Thursday, April 25, 2013

Daily Dose of Bard: How well do you know your opening lines?



The famous lines above, as you probably know, open the comedy Twelfth Night,but can you correctly name other plays based on their opening lines alone.  That's your challenge in today's daily dose of trivia.  Good luck.


1.         When shall we three meet again
            In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2.         Now is the winter of our discontent
            Made glorious summer by this sun of York. 

3.         Two households, both alike in dignity,
            In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

4.         Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly
            That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
            As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.

5.         Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
            Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
            Another moon.

6.         O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
            The brightest heaven of invention,
            A kingdom for a stage, princes to act 
            And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

7.         As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion 
            bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns,
            and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his
            blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my
            sadness.

8.         So shaken as we are, so wan with care, 
            Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
            And breathe short-winded accents of new broils 
            To be commenced in strands afar remote.

9.         In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.

10.       I come no more to make you laugh: things now,
            That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
            Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
            Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
            We now present. 

11.       I wonder how the king escaped our hands?

12.       Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
            Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
            And, countrymen, my loving followers,
            Plead my successive title with your swords:
            I am his first-born son, that was the last
            That wore the imperial diadem of Rome.

Answers:
1.            Macbeth
            First Witch.
            When shall we three meet again  
           In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
            Second Witch. 
             When the hurlyburly's done, 
            When the battle's lost and won.

2.            Richard III
            Now is the winter of our discontent 
            Made glorious summer by this sun of York. 
            And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house 
             In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. 
            Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; 
            Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; 
            Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, 
            Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. 
            Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; 
            And now, instead of mounting barded steeds 
            To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, 
            He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber 
            To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. 

3.            Romeo and Juliet
            Two households, both alike in dignity, 
            In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, 
            From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, 
            Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 
            From forth the fatal loins of these two foes 
            A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; 
            Whole misadventured piteous overthrows 
            Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

4.            Othello
            Roderigo. 
            Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly 
            That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse 
            As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. 
            Iago. 
            'Sblood, but you will not hear me: 
            If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. 
            Roderigo. 
            Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.


5.            A Midsummer Night's Dream
            Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour 
            Draws on apace; four happy days bring in 
            Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow 
            This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, 
            Like to a step-dame or a dowager
            Long withering out a young man revenue.

6.            Henry V
            Chorus. 
            O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend 
            The brightest heaven of invention, 
            A kingdom for a stage, princes to act 
            And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! 
            Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, 
            Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, 
            Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire 
            Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, 
            The flat unraised spirits that have dared 
            On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth 
            So great an object: can this cockpit hold 
            The vasty fields of France?

7.            As You Like It
            Orlando. 
            As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion 
            bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, 
            and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his 
            blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my 
            sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and 
            report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, 
            he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more 
            properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you 
            that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that 
            differs not from the stalling of an ox?

8.            Henry IV pt. 1
            King Henry IV. 
             So shaken as we are, so wan with care, 
            Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, 
            And breathe short-winded accents of new broils 
            To be commenced in strands afar remote. 
            No more the thirsty entrance of this soil 
            Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; 
            Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, 
            Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs 
            Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, 
            Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, 
            All of one nature, of one substance bred, 
            Did lately meet in the intestine shock 
            And furious close of civil butchery 
            Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, 
            March all one way and be no more opposed 
            Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: 
            The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, 
            No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, 
            As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, 
            Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross 
            We are impressed and engaged to fight, 
            Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; 
            Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb 
            To chase these pagans in those holy fields 
            Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet 
            Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd 
            For our advantage on the bitter cross.

9.            All's Well That Ends Well
            Countess. 
            In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.  
            Bertram. 
            And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death 
            anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to 
            whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.

10.           Henry VIII
            I come no more to make you laugh: things now, 
            That bear a weighty and a serious brow, 
            Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, 
            Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, 
            We now present. Those that can pity, here 
            May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; 
            The subject will deserve it. Such as give 
            Their money out of hope they may believe, 
            May here find truth too. Those that come to see 
            Only a show or two, and so agree 
            The play may pass, if they be still and willing, 
            I'll undertake may see away their shilling 
            Richly in two short hours.

11.           Henry VI pt. 3
            Warwick. 
            I wonder how the king escaped our hands. 
            York. 
             While we pursued the horsemen of the north, 
            He slily stole away and left his men: 
            Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, 
            Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, 
            Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, 
            Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, 
            Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in 
            Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.

12.            Titus Andronicus
            Saturninus. 
            Noble patricians, patrons of my right, 
            Defend the justice of my cause with arms, 
            And, countrymen, my loving followers, 
            Plead my successive title with your swords: 
            I am his first-born son, that was the last 
            That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; 
            Then let my father's honours live in me, 
            Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

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