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POETRYETC  2002

POETRYETC 2002

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Subject:

Re: A gee-gaw of sorts

From:

"david.bircumshaw" <[log in to unmask]>

Reply-To:

Poetryetc provides a venue for a dialogue relating to poetry and poetics <[log in to unmask]>

Date:

Mon, 21 Oct 2002 19:52:04 +0100

Content-Type:

text/plain

Parts/Attachments:

Parts/Attachments

text/plain (139 lines)

Being innocent of David Ives, I thought I'd show part of the context of the
piece. What I posted was the third of a set of spoof dramatic sketches,
however, spoofs though they may be, they are also serious, the first is a
semi-parody of Jacobean theatre, if I had anything in mind it was Max
Beerbohm rather than anyone else, agin, my apologies for how the formatting
might come out in e-mail

Episode Two to follow.

Best

Dave



                         O'ER THE TOP

                                or Flaminus and Curzon are Undone

being a Plaie in One Action, as hath on divers times been enacted before the
sarvants

Personae: The Prince; Diadema, betroth'd of the Prince; Flaminus and Curzon,
                  guards to the Prince; Ghost of the Old Retainer; Voice
Within The Mist;
                  The Others.
Scene: the battlements of a castle at night.

Enter Guards.  Thereafter Prince.

Curz. Thou dost affect the royal in thy speech
         Which mars not marries with -
Fla.                                      Peace, the prince.
Both                                                                 My
lord.
Prince Ill-sits my reason with this heavie houre.
          The gross enfuméd mist which ranks and steeps
          Against the mound and vantage of our state
          Doth show and auspice starres of greater pitch,
          Pearl'd from the bosom of the fardest deep,
          Than that faire promise natur'd on my birthe.
          Confinements, treasons, nationhoods forsworn,
          Pour thir miry benisons thicke o'er my soule.
Curz. O burden'd alteration!
Fla.(aside)                             The state lies hard
         Upon this crumbling tow'r.
Enter severally Ghost, Diadema, Others.
Guards & Prince                     But who treads here?
Ghost (to Prince)
         Thy father's servant, and his father's ere.
         Within his bond I watch'd his issue grow,
         From sapling-shoot to manhood-verging stock,
         Untouch'd by blight of care or taint of ruth,
         But now my shade is wrench'd from faithful reste,
         Pluck'd and summon'd hence in sweeling haste.
         If thou be'est true, O self-rack'd prince,
         Venge thy heritance gainst that blurring fogge
         That rubs distinction from the finest clothe,
         Clombs and hazes o'er the stoutest gates
         And dow'rs its uni-versal samenesse all.

Curz. O fearful restitution!
Fla.(aside)                         This prince's sworde
        Must point and pierce the compasse round.
Dia.                                                                      My
lord,
       What tricke or phantasme of the nether ayre
       Doth mock and goade thee on a hollow speech?
       My lord -
Prince             Peace.   Darké-nesse.  Yet in that darkling
       Light allumes mee like the sov'ran sunne.
       On all points hemm'd?  By the fring'd surrounds
       Of this so curtain'd world curtailéd bound?
       Goddes will, for I will not!  On, I goe, on!
       On certe-lesse ends my certain sworde I fend!
(he rushes to the parapet, sword drawn, and falls from the tower)
Prince
        The rest is si -
Dia.                          With thee my prince I die.
(leaps after him)
Curzon runs at the ghost and vanishes from the chronicle and sight.
Flaminus is seized by The Others and as a traitor bound.  A fearful voice is
heard within the mist.
Voice|:
         Why what but why what mine but my what why?
The Others move centre stage, dragging Flaminus on a lead like a dog.
The Others:
         Cut is the budding of that royal tree;
         Grief's forward tides must fell paternity.
         By brumous limn and hue the state's unmended,
         With noble blood our play's now common-ended.

Exeunt all.  Alarums.  Banners.  Selling of Pies.



David Bircumshaw

Leicester, England

Home Page

A Chide's Alphabet

Painting Without Numbers

http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
----- Original Message -----
From: "Douglas Barbour" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, October 21, 2002 7:43 AM
Subject: Re: A gee-gaw of sorts


Glad you enjoy the sigs, Candice.

I'm not really that Bleak, & haven't had time to make my way through the
big Dickens' so cant say I was 'alluding'.

And obviously, had no idea that Dave's gee-gaw might be too close to anyone
else's. Though I recognized a generic, so to speak, comedy at work there...

Doug

Douglas Barbour
Department of English
University of Alberta
Edmonton Alberta Canada T6G 2E5
(h) [780] 436 3320      (b) [780] 492 0521
http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/dbhome.htm

        The blank page
        as merely an interval or
        an intrusion. We could not rescue it

        nor could we huddle, as if the page were
        big enough.
                        Kathleen Fraser

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