Thursday, January 24, 2013

Enobarbus


I will tell you,
The Barge she sat in, like a burnisht Throne
Burnt on the water: the Poope was beaten Gold,
Purple the Sails: and so perfumed that
The Winds were Love-sick.
With them the Owers were Silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat, to follow faster;
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggered all description, she did lie
In her Pavillion, cloth of Gold, of Tissue,
O’er-picturing that Venus, where we see
The fancy out-work of Nature. On each side her,
Stood pretty Dimpled Boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers color’d Fans whose wind did seem,
To glove the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.

(Anthony and Cleopatra, Act 2, Scene 2)


One book I’ve read (Will Power: How to Act Shakespeare in 21 by John Basil, and, no, I’m not turning to acting) mentions Patrick Stewart, of Star Trek Captain Picard fame, speaking Enobarbus’s speech “as though it were an oil painting.” What a great simile, Mr. Basil! Now, re-read the speech with that thought in mind …

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