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Tragedy Final For each play’s text discuss the following issues: 1. Tragic structure: flawed choice/downward spiral/?/recognition 2. Senecan influence Vs Greek 3. Fate or Flaw or both 4. Revenge tragedy structure (if not present, why not) 5. Role of chance in tragic action 6. Great chain of being 7. Chronology and development (where is this play in relationship to others) 8. Presentism: how is a performance a reflection of time and place For your proof: Who is speaking? To whom is he or she speaking? What are the emotions and objectives of the speaker (want the listener to do)? Use the sounds, images, and rhythms of the text. A performance must be used with each play to receive full credit and 10 points will be deducted if you do not. Five answers: One play for each and one issue for each play, no repetitions. Macbeth Macbeth, Macbeth Act 5 Scene 5 There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6t0oc4AQrY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGbZCgHQ9m8&nohtml5=False King John (since this play is considered a history, discuss how it is or is not a tragedy) Constance: Constance: No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Death, death; O amiable lovely death! Thou odouriferous stench! sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy detestable bones And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows And ring these fingers with thy household worms And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust And be a carrion monster like thyself: Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love, O, come to me! King Phillip: O fair affliction, peace! Constance: No, no, I will not, having breath to cry: O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation. Cardinal Pandulph: Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Constance: Thou art not holy to belie me so; I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost: I am not mad: I would to heaven I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal; For being not mad but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be deliver'd of these woes, And teaches me to kill or hang myself: If I were mad, I should forget my son, Or madly think a babe of clouts were he: I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpAZju8RbiI Camille O’Sullivan plays Constance in King John, Act III, Scene 4. Constance laments the loss of her son, Arthur, who has been captured, but disputes the suggestion that she has gone mad. Timon of Athens Timon IV sc I 1 Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, And minister in their steads! to general filths Convert o' the instant, green virginity, Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, Your potent and infectious fevers heap On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, at their society, as their friendship, may merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, But nakedness, thou detestable town! Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! Timon will to the woods; where he shall find The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confound—hear me, you good gods all— The Athenians both within and out that wall! And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQCTxRfIvwk King Lear Edgar II iii 1 I heard myself proclaim'd, And by the happy hollow of a tree Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape, I will preserve myself; and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape That ever penury, in contempt of man, Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth, Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots, And with presented nakedness outface The winds and persecutions of the sky. The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. 'Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!' That's something yet! Edgar I nothing am. [Exit] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFwryRkK34s https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nu26VoK0ShE Romeo and Juliet Juliet's death scene [JULIET wakes] Juliet. O comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo? [Noise within] Friar Laurence. I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; 3115 And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet, [Noise again] 3120 I dare no longer stay. Juliet. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. [Exit FRIAR LAURENCE] What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: 3125 O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make die with a restorative. [Kisses him] 3130 Thy lips are warm. First Watchman. [Within] Lead, boy: which way? Juliet. Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! [Snatching ROMEO's dagger] This is thy sheath; 3135 [Stabs herself] there rust, and let me die. [Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exYVRtnRJZA Troilus and Cressida CRESSIDA Hard to seem won: but I was won, my lord, With the first glance that ever--pardon me-If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. I love you now; but not, till now, so much But I might master it: in faith, I lie; My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools! Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us, When we are so unsecret to ourselves? But, though I loved you well, I woo'd you not; And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man, Or that we women had men's privilege Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue, For in this rapture I shall surely speak The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws My very soul of counsel! stop my mouth. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWGA9ybfPvI Anthony and Cleopatra Act4 Scene14 "Here I am Antony, Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. I made these ward for Egypt; and the QueenWhose heart I thought I had, for she had mine." https://youtu.be/nsrM__k9Wdg start in 0:55 Coriolanus Volumnia V iii 148 Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so that our request did tend To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, 'This we received;' and each in either side Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, But with his last attempt he wiped it out; Destroy'd his country, and his name remains To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, To imitate the graces of the gods; To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: Perhaps thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, And spurn me back: but if it be not so, Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, That thou restrain'st from me the duty which To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; This is the last: so we will home to Rome, And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: This boy, that cannot tell what he would have But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, Does reason our petition with more strength Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; His wife is in Corioli and his child Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, And then I'll speak a little. 4:30 in https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7N1mExdMlo&nohtml5=False