The Merchant Of Venice - Tumblr Posts
Do you have anything recycled by Maggie smith?
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(This is how I am introduced, too^)
-William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
Oxford World’s Classics Redesign: Shakespeare
Part II. Comedies
You speak an infinite deal of nothing.
William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
Despite her better judgement, the long days with nothing to do eventually lure Anne back into the jam room. She can remember a time (lifetimes ago, surely) when she was a wain brought to the music room to meet her instructor. She’d slammed the piano lid down on his fingers and was never again made to practice music, though at her mam’s knee she’d learned the spoons and sang in a voice that made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in talent, a plain voice given more to crowing than to singing. (She sounds better these days, but not by much.)
She doesn’t open any instruments or make any ruckus: she’s just wandering about, as aimless in her feet as in her mind as she takes a seat, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat. The other room seemed oppressive, somehow, but there was no work to be done to make up for that. She’d decided she wanted the sunlight to read by, and found it a quieter place here than in the galley or on the deck, with fewer prying gazes. When she’d borrowed the play from Bonnet’s library, she’d only meant to reread her father’s favorite line. Fix it back right in her mind, since she had both the time and the means for it for a change…
…but in the dirt-dulled sunlight falling in a slant through the port windows, Anne finds herself starting at the beginning instead.
In sooth I know not why I am so sad. / It wearies me, you say it wearies you. / But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, / What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born, / I am to learn. / And such a want-wit sadness makes of me / That I have much ado to know myself.