If Loving Fashion is a Crime, I Plead Guilty

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Some Princesses Don't Have Happy Endings

Hamlet : I did love you once
Ophelia : Indeed my lord,you made me believe so
Hamlet : You should have not believed me, for virtue cannot innoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it.I lov'd you not
Ophelia : I was the more deceived..

poor ophelia
QUEEN: There is a willow grows askant the brook…

There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
Clamb’ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up,
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds,
As one incapable of her own distress…

            - Act 4, Scene 7, line 190

On the calm black wave where the stars are sleeping
the white Ophelia floats like a great lily.
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
--Far off in the woods there are hunters’ calls.

-a piece from Arthur Rimbaud's Ophelia

my words fly up, my thoughts remain below
words without thought never to heaven go

I forbid my tears
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet
It is our trick. Nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will. When these are gone,
The woman will be out.—Adieu, my lord.
I have a speech of fire that fain would blaze,
But that this folly doubts it.

Soft you now,my fair Ophelia
nymph in thy orisons be all my sins remember'd

Ophelias's death,incapable with her own distress
Larded all with sweet flowers;
Which bewept to the grave did not go
With true-love showers.

Here's the water, just ankle deep high
Lay back relax and look up at the sky.

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