There are two very different ways to read\/perform Shakespeare. <\/p>\n
One very obvious and one much lower carrying a level of subtext that must be read with the opposite intent. In doing so, one can insult the very nature of behavior while surreptitiously teaching a very difficult lesson. <\/p>\n
Today, I find my inner nature at odds with my ability as a performer to relegate the ability to transcend the obvious.<\/p>\n
So, now.. one of the most argued passages of Shakespeare that is likewise one of the most misperformed audition pieces.
\n<\/p>\n
Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
\nAnd dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
\nTo wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
\nIt blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
\nConfounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
\nAnd in no sense is meet or amiable.
\nA woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
\nMuddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
\nAnd while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
\nWill deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
\nThy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
\nThy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
\nAnd for thy maintenance commits his body
\nTo painful labour both by sea and land,
\nTo watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
\nWhilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
\nAnd craves no other tribute at thy hands
\nBut love, fair looks and true obedience;
\nToo little payment for so great a debt.
\nSuch duty as the subject owes the prince
\nEven such a woman oweth to her husband;
\nAnd when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
\nAnd not obedient to his honest will,
\nWhat is she but a foul contending rebel
\nAnd graceless traitor to her loving lord?
\nI am ashamed that women are so simple
\nTo offer war where they should kneel for peace;
\nOr seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
\nWhen they are bound to serve, love and obey.
\nWhy are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
\nUnapt to toil and trouble in the world,
\nBut that our soft conditions and our hearts
\nShould well agree with our external parts?
\nCome, come, you froward and unable worms!
\nMy mind hath been as big as one of yours,
\nMy heart as great, my reason haply more,
\nTo bandy word for word and frown for frown;
\nBut now I see our lances are but straws,
\nOur strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
\nThat seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
\nThen vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
\nAnd place your hands below your husband’s foot:
\nIn token of which duty, if he please,
\nMy hand is ready; may it do him ease.<\/p>\n