Bardisms (32 page)

Some details:

This Bardism always reminds me of the actress Irene Worth. Born in a tiny Nebraska town, she went on to become one of the grandes dames of the twentieth-century British and American stage. (She changed her name from Harriet Elizabeth Abrams and pronounced Irene with three syllables:
i-REE-nee
. The theater is a place of all sorts of transformations.) I had the honor of working with her only once, at a benefit evening in which celebrity actors—Kevin Kline, Sigourney Weaver, Christopher Walken, Robert Sean Leonard, and others—read Shakespeare’s sonnets. At one rehearsal an actor in the group worked through Sonnet 60, which begins:

Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end;

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Ms. Worth sat nearby, listening. She walked over to the actor and said, in her seismically resonant, British-inflected voice, “Darling, just do this:
always
stress the word
all
.” When Irene Worth said the word
all
, it really was all—the sun, the moon, the stars; yesterday, today, and tomorrow; everything in God’s creation. Ms. Worth wasn’t saying that
all
should sound grand. She was saying that the breadth and size of the idea the word communicates cannot be ignored or given short shrift. The Bardism that organizes this book makes her case—
All
the world’s a stage / And
all
the men and women merely players—as do these others:

How
all
occasions do inform against me…

He was a man, take him for
all
in
all
,

I shall not look upon his like again.

All
my pretty ones?

Did you say
all
? O hell-kite!
All
?

What,
all
my pretty chickens and their dam

At one fell swoop?
*

Remember Irene Worth. Always stress
all
.

SHAKESPEARE ON PARTIES

Good company, good wine, good welcome Can make good people.

—G
UILDFORD
,
Henry VIII
, 1.4.6–7

We established at the opening of this chapter that the rotund Justice who stars in Jaques’ Fifth Age enjoys a good meal. He also likes to opine about every subject under the sun. Add a cigar or pinch of snuff and a snifter of brandy or glass of port and you’ve got yourself one middle-aged party animal. Despite the fact that this fifty-something frat boy appears in
As You Like It
, he’d feel at home in any of the dozen or so Shakespeare plays in which the Bard includes a party scene.
Romeo and Juliet
gets rolling with one;
The Taming of the Shrew
ends with one. Mark Antony gets drunk at one; Cassio gets blotto at one. Beatrice and Benedick flirt at one; Timon gets his revenge at one. Henry VIII meets his wife at one; he then meets another wife at another one.

Shakespeare’s parties feature all the energy, spontaneity, fun, and unexpected drama that we find in real-life gatherings and celebrations. That means that for we band of brothers (and sisters) who, four hundred years on, continue to turn to our
Complete Works
for words to suit the occasions of our lives, there is in that volume a splendid assortment of Bardisms for every party we throw, attend, or even bolt. Below, the highlights.

LET’S PARTY!

Just prior to setting out for Alexandria and his final showdown with his mocking and disrespectful enemy, Octavius Caesar, Mark Antony decides to throw a big going-away blowout for his men, himself, and Cleopatra. His clarion call to his fellow revelers is a forerunner of the classic
Animal House
chant of “To-GA! To-GA! To-GA!”

Come,

Let’s have one other gaudy night. Call to me

All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more.

Let’s mock the midnight bell.

—A
NTONY
,
Antony and Cleopatra
, 3.13.184–86

In other words:

Come on! Let’s party hearty one more night. Gather all my serious-minded friends. Pour some wine again, and let’s stay up all night!

How to use it:

Any of the short sentences that make up this speech could serve as the headline to a party invitation, or the subject line of an e-vite to this weekend’s big debauch. I always hear in Antony’s call to “mock the midnight bell” my own childhood joy at being given permission on New Year’s Eve to stay up past twelve, so I’ve recommended that passage to friends planning all-night revelry.

This is not a speech for the faint of heart. It’s big and boisterous—the full-throated cry of a man who’s clambered up onto the bar to announce to everyone that drinks are on him.

Some details:

Antony wants his
bowls
filled because such were the vessels from which wine was drunk in the Renaissance. In addition to those, Shakespeare’s characters drink wine from
stoups
(i.e., tankards),
chalices
(i.e., goblets), and
cups
, but never from glasses, as we do today. This may be because the Jacobean world was a lot less genteel than our own and preferred a major guzzle to a dainty sip. But it may also be because Renaissance wine was not quite the quality beverage we imbibe today. Jacobean oenophiles routinely did things no connoisseur today would dream of: mix sugar into their wine, dip toast into it like donuts into coffee, float chopped fruit in it, or heat it to steaming. Preparations like these called for containers suited to heavier duty than crystal stemware.

LET’S FURTHER THINK ON THIS…

When Fleetwood Mac was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Mick Fleetwood summoned the band onstage to perform their hit “Say You Love Me” by crying, “If music be the food of love, play on!”—the opening line of
Twelfth Night.
There’s not another livin’ soul around who didn’t think it was a superb Shakespearean shout-out.

WELCOME TO MY SHINDIG!

Once the invitations have gone out and the RSVPs have been counted, the host’s next public duty is to extend a gracious welcome to his guests. Here are three Bardisms for the job. First:

You’re welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady

Or gentleman that is not freely merry

Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome,

And to you all, good health!

—C
ARDINAL
W
OLSEY
,
Henry VIII
, 1.4.36–39

In other words:

My gorgeous guests, welcome! Any lady or gent who’s not up for a good time is no friend of mine. I raise this glass as proof of my welcome, and I drink to your health!

How to use it:

This
at the midpoint of line 3 is what’s known as an
index word.
It indexes, or indicates, or points to, some specific thing. Here,
this
refers to the glass (or bowl, or stoup, or cup) that you’re raising to your guests. This Bardism is therefore ideal for that moment during the party when the host rises to thank everyone for coming, and to instruct everyone to have a ball.

The four monosyllables that begin line 3 are the center of the speech. Let each one ring out, but in good humor—you don’t really mean that you’re going to end your friendship with anyone who’s a downer at your party. It’s playful hyperbole.

Second, if your gathering features food, you can rise and offer this Shakespearean
bon appétit
, as Cardinal Wolsey does in
Henry VIII
just a few dozen lines after welcoming his guests with the lines above.

A good digestion to you all, and once more

I shower a welcome on ye—welcome all.

—C
ARDINAL
W
OLSEY
,
Henry VIII
, 1.4.62–64

Third, Cardinal Wolsey’s party in
Henry VIII
is a very posh affair. The scene’s stage directions specify that there are multiple tables, including one very long one; dinner takes place “under the cloth of state,” or royal insignia of the king; there’s music, supplied by “hautboys” or oboes, as well as a “drum and trumpet”; and cannon fire accompanies the arrival of the most prominent guests. Don’t despair if your party isn’t quite so grand.
*
Instead, remind your guests that your parsimonious provisioning needn’t mean they’ll have a bad time: