The Classic Theatre

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #35Synopsis:The poet excuses the beloved by citing examples of other naturally beautiful objects associated with things hurtful or ugly. He then accuses himself of being corrupted through excusing his beloved’s faults. No more be grieved at that which thou hast done.Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.All men make faults, and even I in this,Authorizing thy trespass with compare,Myself corrupting salving thy amiss,Excusing ⌜thy⌝ sins more than ⌜thy⌝ sins are.For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense—Thy adverse party is thy advocate—And ’gainst myself a lawful plea commence.Such civil war is in my love and hate That I an accessary needs must be To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)Visuals from Sunrise: A Song of Two HumansDirected by F. W. Murnau, 1927 — public domain

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #34 Synopsis: In this sonnet the sun is again overtaken by clouds, but now the sun/beloved is accused of having betrayed the poet by promising what is not delivered. The poet writes that while the beloved’s repentance and shame do not rectify the damage done, the beloved’s tears are so precious that they serve as atonement.   Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way, Hiding thy brav’ry in their rotten smoke? ’Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face, For no man well of such a salve can speak That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace. Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief; Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss. Th’ offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief To him that bears the strong offense’s ⌜cross.⌝  Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,  And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #33 Synopsis: The poet describes the sun first in its glory and then after its being covered with dark clouds; this change resembles his relationship with the beloved, who is now “masked” from him. But if even the sun can be darkened, he writes, it is no wonder that earthly beings sometimes fail to remain bright and unstained. (This is the first of a series of three poems in which the beloved is pictured as having hurt the poet through some unspecified misdeed.)   Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy, Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendor on my brow, But, out alack, he was but one hour mine; The region cloud hath masked him from me now.  Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;  Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #32 Synopsis: The poet imagines his poems being read and judged by his beloved after the poet’s death, and he asks that the poems, though not as excellent as those written by later writers, be kept and enjoyed because of the love expressed in them.   If thou survive my well-contented day When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, And shalt by fortune once more resurvey These poor rude lines of thy deceasèd lover, Compare them with the bett’ring of the time, And though they be outstripped by every pen, Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme, Exceeded by the height of happier men. O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought: “Had my friend’s muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought To march in ranks of better equipage.  But since he died and poets better prove,  Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love.” (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #31 Synopsis: The poet sees the many friends now lost to him as contained in his beloved. Thus, the love he once gave to his lost friends is now given wholly to the beloved.   Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts Which I by lacking have supposèd dead, And there reigns love and all love’s loving parts, And all those friends which I thought burièd. 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 removed 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 loved I view in thee,  And thou, all they, hast all the all of me. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

#30 Synopsis: The poet pictures his moments of serious reflection as a court session in which his memories are summoned to appear. As they come forward, he grieves for all that he has lost, but he then thinks of his beloved friend and the grief changes to joy.   When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste; Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night, And weep afresh love’s long since canceled woe, And moan th’ expense of many a vanished sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before.  But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,  All losses are restored and sorrows end. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #29 Synopsis: The poet, dejected by his low status, remembers his friend’s love, and is thereby lifted into joy.   When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;  For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings  That then I scorn to change my state with kings. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #28 Synopsis: Continuing the thought of s. 27, the poet claims that day and night conspire to torment him. Though he has flattered both day and night by comparing them to beautiful qualities of his beloved, day continues to exhaust him and night to distress him.   How can I then return in happy plight That am debarred the benefit of rest, When day’s oppression is not eased by night, But day by night and night by day oppressed; And each, though enemies to either’s reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toil, the other to complain How far I toil, still farther off from thee? I tell the day to please him thou art bright And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven; So flatter I the swart complexioned night, When sparkling stars twire not, thou ⌜gild’st⌝ the even.  But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,  And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #27 Synopsis: In this first of two linked sonnets, the poet complains that the night, which should be a time of rest, is instead a time of continuing toil as, in his imagination, he struggles to reach his beloved.   Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear repose for limbs with travel tired, But then begins a journey in my head To work my mind when body’s work’s expired. For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see; Save that my soul’s imaginary sight Presents ⌜thy⌝ shadow to my sightless view, Which like a jewel hung in ghastly night Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.  Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,  For thee and for myself no quiet find. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #26 Synopsis: The poet, assuming the role of a vassal owing feudal allegiance, offers his poems as a token of duty, apologizing for their lack of literary worth. He begs his liege lord to protect this expression of his duty until fortune allows him to boast openly of his love.   Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, To thee I send this written embassage To witness duty, not to show my wit; Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it, But that I hope some good conceit of thine In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will bestow it; Till whatsoever star that guides my moving Points on me graciously with fair aspect, And puts apparel on my tattered loving To show me worthy of ⌜thy⌝ sweet respect.  Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;  Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #25 Synopsis: The poet contrasts himself with those who seem more fortunate than he. Their titles and honors, he says, though great, are subject to whim and accident, while his greatest blessing, his love, will not change.   Let those who are in favor with their stars Of public honor and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlooked for joy in that I honor most. Great princes’ favorites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun’s eye, And in themselves their pride lies burièd, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famousèd for worth, After a thousand victories once foiled, Is from the book of honor razèd quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.  Then happy I, that love and am beloved  Where I may not remove nor be removed. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #24 Synopsis: This sonnet elaborates the metaphor of carrying the beloved’s picture in one’s heart. The poet claims that his eyes have painted on his heart a picture of the beloved. The poet’s body is both the picture’s frame and the shop where it is displayed. His only regret is that eyes paint only what they see, and they cannot see into his beloved’s heart.   Mine eye hath played the painter and hath ⌜stelled⌝ Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is best painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill To find where your true image pictured lies, Which in my bosom’s shop is hanging still, That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes. Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done: Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.  Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art:  They draw but what they see, know not the heart. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #23 Synopsis: The poet blames his inability to speak his love on his lack of self-confidence and his too-powerful emotions, and he begs his beloved to find that love expressed in his writings.   As an unperfect actor on the stage Who with his fear is put beside his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart; So I for fear of trust forget to say The perfect ceremony of love’s rite, And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay, O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might. O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love and look for recompense More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.  O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.  To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #22 Synopsis: This sonnet plays with the poetic idea of love as an exchange of hearts. The poet urges the young man to take care of himself, since his breast carries the poet’s heart; and the poet promises the same care of the young man’s heart, which, the poet reminds him, has been given to the poet “not to give back again.”   My glass shall not persuade me I am old So long as youth and thou are of one date, But when in thee Time’s furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate. For all that beauty that doth cover thee Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me; How can I then be elder than thou art? O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary As I not for myself but for thee will, Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.  Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain.  Thou gav’st me thine not to give back again. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #21 Synopsis: The poet contrasts himself with poets who compare those they love to such rarities as the sun, the stars, or April flowers. His poetry will, he writes, show his beloved as a beautiful mortal instead of using the exaggerated terms of an advertisement.   So is it not with me as with that muse Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s firstborn flowers and all things rare That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems. O, let me, true in love, but truly write, And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother’s child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven’s air.  Let them say more that like of hearsay well;  I will not praise that purpose not to sell. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #20 Synopsis: The poet fantasizes that the young man’s beauty is the result of Nature’s changing her mind: she began to create a beautiful woman, fell in love with her own creation, and turned it into a man. The poet, thus deprived of a female sexual partner, concedes that it is women who will receive pleasure and progeny from the young man, but the poet will nevertheless have the young man’s love.   A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion; An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; A man in hue all hues in his controlling, Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth. And for a woman wert thou first created, Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting, And by addition me of thee defeated By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.  But since she pricked thee out for women’s pleasure,  Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #19 Synopsis: The “war with Time” announced in Sonnet 15 is here engaged in earnest as the poet, allowing Time its usual predations, forbids it to attack the young man. Should this command fail to be effective, however, the poet claims that the young man will in any case remain always young in the poet’s verse.   Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws And make the Earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s ⌜jaws,⌝ And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood; Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets. But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: O, carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; Him in thy course untainted do allow For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.  Yet do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong,  My love shall in my verse ever live young. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #18 Synopsis: In a radical departure from the previous sonnets, the young man’s beauty, here more perfect even than a day in summer, is not threatened by Time or Death, since he will live in perfection forever in the poet’s verses.   Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed. But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st, Nor shall Death brag thou wand’rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.  So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #17 Synopsis: As further argument against mere poetic immortality, the poet insists that if his verse displays the young man’s qualities in their true splendor, later ages will assume that the poems are lies. However, if the young man leaves behind a child, he will remain doubly alive—in verse and in his offspring.   Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were filled with your most high deserts? Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb Which hides your life and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say “This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.” So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage And stretchèd meter of an antique song.  But were some child of yours alive that time,  You should live twice—in it and in my rhyme. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #16 Synopsis: Continuing the thought of s. 15, the poet argues that procreation is a “mightier way” than poetry for the young man to stay alive, since the poet’s pen cannot present him as a living being.   But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time, And fortify yourself in your decay With means more blessèd than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens, yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers, Much liker than your painted counterfeit. So should the lines of life that life repair Which this time’s pencil or my pupil pen Neither in inward worth nor outward fair Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.  To give away yourself keeps yourself still,  And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #15 Synopsis: In the first of two linked sonnets, the poet once again examines the evidence that beauty and splendor exist only for a moment before they are destroyed by Time. Here the poet suggests—through wordplay on engraft—that the young man can be kept alive not only through procreation but also in the poet’s verse.   When I consider everything that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheerèd and checked even by the selfsame sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their brave state out of memory; Then the conceit of this inconstant stay Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay To change your day of youth to sullied night;  And, all in war with Time for love of you,  As he takes from you, I engraft you new. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #14 Synopsis: As astrologers predict the future from the stars, so the poet reads the future in the “constant stars” of the young man’s eyes, where he sees that if the young man breeds a son, truth and beauty will survive; if not, they die when the young man dies.   Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck, And yet methinks I have astronomy— But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, Or say with princes if it shall go well By oft predict that I in heaven find. But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive, And, constant stars, in them I read such art As truth and beauty shall together thrive If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;  Or else of thee this I prognosticate:  Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #13 Synopsis: The poet argues that the young man, in refusing to prepare for old age and death by producing a child, is like a spendthrift who fails to care for his family mansion, allowing it to be destroyed by the wind and the cold of winter.   O, that you were your self! But, love, you are No longer yours than you yourself here live; Against this coming end you should prepare, And your sweet semblance to some other give. So should that beauty which you hold in lease Find no determination; then you were ⌜Your⌝ self again after yourself’s decease When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear. Who lets so fair a house fall to decay, Which husbandry in honor might uphold Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?  O, none but unthrifts, dear my love, you know.  You had a father; let your son say so. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #12 Synopsis: As he observes the motion of the clock and the movement of all living things toward death and decay, the poet faces the fact that the young man’s beauty will be destroyed by Time. Nothing besides offspring, he argues, can defy Time’s scythe.   When I do count the clock that tells the time And see the brave day sunk in hideous night, When I behold the violet past prime And sable curls ⌜all⌝ silvered o’er with white; When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard; Then of thy beauty do I question make That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow;  And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defense  Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #11 Synopsis: The poet once again urges the young man to choose a future in which his offspring carry his vitality forward instead of one in which his natural gifts will be coldly buried. The very exceptionality of the young man’s beauty obliges him to cherish and wisely perpetuate that gift.   As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; Without this, folly, age, and cold decay. If all were minded so, the times should cease, And threescore year would make the world away. Let those whom nature hath not made for store, Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish; Look whom she best endowed she gave the more, Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish.  She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby  Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. #10 Synopsis: This sonnet, expanding the couplet that closes s. 9, accuses the young man of a murderous hatred against himself and his family line and urges him to so transform himself that his inner being corresponds to his outer graciousness and kindness.   For shame deny that thou bear’st love to any, Who for thyself art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lov’st is most evident. For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate That ’gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate Which to repair should be thy chief desire. O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind. Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love? Be as thy presence is, gracious and kind, Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove.  Make thee another self for love of me,  That beauty still may live in thine or thee. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

Nellie is dreamy and lost in thoughts of her future and the man she loves. As she stares into the mirror, she sees the reflection of her future husband and begins to imagine her life with him. Suddenly, Nellie's dream is interrupted by a crisis. Her husband is ill and Nellie rushes to the doctor's house for help.

And here comes the winning ticket! The numbers are... When Ivan Dmitritch reads the newspapes, he sees that the winning numbers from the lottery are very much the same as his wife’s ticket. They immediately start to daydream about all the things they can buy now and the life they are going to have from now on. And it is exactly because of this that they fail to notice the obvious problem. Enjoyable and amusing, "The Lottery Ticket" is one of those stories of Chekhov that can be grouped under the general "stories with a twist". A recommended read, by all means.

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #9 Synopsis: The poet argues that if the young man refuses to marry for fear of someday leaving behind a grieving widow, he is ignoring the worldwide grief that will be caused if he dies single, leaving behind no heir to his beauty.   Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye That thou consum’st thyself in single life? Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die, The world will wail thee like a makeless wife; The world will be thy widow and still weep That thou no form of thee hast left behind, When every private widow well may keep, By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind. Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it; But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end, And, kept unused, the user so destroys it.  No love toward others in that bosom sits  That on himself such murd’rous shame commits. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #8 Synopsis: The poet observes the young man listening to music without pleasure, and suggests that the young man hears in the harmony produced by the instrument’s individual but conjoined strings an accusation about his refusing to play his part in the concord of “sire and child and happy mother.”   Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly, Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy? If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds, By unions married, do offend thine ear, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear. Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, Resembling sire and child and happy mother Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing;  Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,  Sings this to thee: “Thou single wilt prove none.” (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #7 Synopsis: This sonnet traces the path of the sun across the sky, noting that mortals gaze in admiration at the rising and the noonday sun. When the sun begins to set, says the poet, it is no longer an attraction. Such is the path that the young man’s life will follow—a blaze of glory followed by descent into obscurity—unless he begets a son.   Lo, in the orient when the gracious light Lifts up his burning head, each under eye Doth homage to his new-appearing sight, Serving with looks his sacred majesty; And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill, Resembling strong youth in his middle age, Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still, Attending on his golden pilgrimage. But when from highmost pitch with weary car Like feeble age he reeleth from the day, The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are From his low tract and look another way.  So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,  Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #6 Synopsis: Continuing the argument from sonnet 5, the poet urges the young man to produce a child, and thus distill his own summerlike essence. The poet then returns to the beauty-as-treasure metaphor and proposes that the lending of treasure for profit—i.e., usury—is not forbidden by law when the borrower is happy with the bargain. If the young man lends his beauty and gets in return enormous wealth in the form of children, Death will be helpless to destroy him, since he will continue to live in his offspring.   Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled. Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed. That use is not forbidden usury Which happies those that pay the willing loan; That’s for thyself to breed another thee, Or ten times happier, be it ten for one. Ten times thyself were happier than thou art If ten of thine ten times refigured thee; Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart, Leaving thee living in posterity?  Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair  To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

"About Love" is an 1898 short story by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov. The third and final part of the Little Trilogy, started by "The Man in the Case" and continued by "Gooseberries". (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #5 Synopsis: In this first of two linked sonnets, the poet compares the young man to summer and its flowers, doomed to be destroyed by winter. Even though summer inevitably dies, he argues, its flowers can be distilled into perfume. The beauty of the flowers and thereby the essence of summer are thus preserved.   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 everywhere. 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 distilled, though they with winter meet,  Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #4 Synopsis: The poet returns to the idea of beauty as treasure that should be invested for profit. Here, the young man’s refusal to beget a child is likened to his spending inherited wealth on himself rather than investing it or sharing it generously.   Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thyself 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 thyself alone, Thou of thyself 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 usèd lives th’ executor to be. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

The Proposal is a one-act farce by Anton Chekhov, written in 1888–1889 and first performed in 1890. A young man Lomov comes to propose to his neighbour Natalya but they keep on fighting over various topics. Rather than emotionally bonding in relationships, people instead connect with wealth and money. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #3 Synopsis: The poet urges the young man to reflect on his own image in a mirror. Just as the young man’s mother sees her own youthful self reflected in the face of her son, so someday the young man should be able to look at his son’s face and see reflected his own youth. If the young man decides to die childless, all these faces and images die with him.   Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity? Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.  But if thou live remembered not to be,  Die single, and thine image dies with thee. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #2 Synopsis: The poet challenges the young man to imagine two different futures, one in which he dies childless, the other in which he leaves behind a son. In the first, the young man will waste the uninvested treasure of his youthful beauty. In the other, though still himself subject to the ravages of time, his child’s beauty will witness the father’s wise investment of this treasure.   When forty winters shall besiege thy brow And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tattered weed of small worth held. Then being asked where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise. How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use If thou couldst answer “This fair child of mine Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,” Proving his beauty by succession thine.  This were to be new made when thou art old  And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.  #1 Synopsis: In this first of many sonnets about the briefness of human life, the poet reminds the young man that time and death will destroy even the fairest of living things. Only if they reproduce themselves will their beauty survive. The young man’s refusal to beget a child is therefore self-destructive and wasteful.   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, Thyself 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. (Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic

William Shakespeare’s ‘The tragedy of Macbeth’ as performed by Sanio Kurtesevic