FIRST WITCH: Why, how now, Hecate! You look angrily.

HECATE: Have I not reason, beldams, as you are
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?

- William Shakespeare, "Macbeth" (Act 3, Scene 5)

#ShakespeareSunday #GothicSpring #Literature #Poetry #Theatre #Theater #Shakespeare #WilliamShakespeare #Macbeth

Sonnet 001 - I
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

“Swipe Right for Venice: a spicy retelling” – Poetcore Shakespeare: The Bard for Gen Z

(T.A.E.’s LitBites) – A modern retelling of The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare

Bassanio’s life is basically a group chat where he’s always low on clout. He wants to impress Portia — a total icon who lives in a fancy villa and is famous for being brilliant and kind — but winning her heart costs serious cash. So he turns to his best friend Antonio, a calm, broody merchant who’s always putting his money into ships and business flexes. Antonio has savings tied up in trade and low-key hates that Bassanio spends like it’s a game, but of course he still loves him. Friendship vibes > everything.

Antonio, sad about his blocked cash but loyal to Bassanio, goes to a lender: Shylock. Shylock’s been burned by Antonio’s public insults — Antonio hates money-lending and spits on Shylock’s trade — so he’s bitter. Shylock agrees to a loan for Bassanio, but he wants more than interest. He writes a dramatic contract: if Antonio can’t pay back in time, Shylock can claim a pound of his flesh. It’s savage, a little theatrical, and everyone at the signing treats it like a grim joke. Nobody thinks it’ll matter — Antonio’s ships are supposed to bring the money home.

Bassanio rolls into Portia’s doorstep in Belmont like it’s the red carpet. Portia isn’t a trophy; she’s sharp, runs her own household, and hides a rule: suitors must pick one of three locked boxes to win her. Bassanio picks the right one (luck? fate? vibe-check?), proves he’s both brave and sincere, and Portia gives him her ring — a symbol that says, “You’re mine.” They’re #couplegoals for a hot second. Bassanio goes back to Venice to be with Portia, glowing and grateful.

Then the news drops like a viral clip: Antonio’s ships are wrecked or delayed, his accounts are drained. He can’t pay Shylock. Shylock, who’s been pushed and mocked for years, decides to go full-on revenge mode. He drags Antonio to court demanding the literal pound of flesh from the contract. Everyone freaks out. People beg Shylock to be humane; he refuses. The city is split between pity and legal panic. It’s ugly and tense.

Portia hears and won’t sit quiet. She dresses up as a guy — a hotshot lawyer called Balthazar — and steps into the courtroom with Nerissa (her quick-witted maid), who also poses as a clerk. They enter the most dramatic courtroom flex: Portia, in legal robes, quietly taking apart the case. When the judge asks the law to speak, she speaks law and mercy.

Portia’s play is genius: she acknowledges the contract — yes, Shylock has a right to the pound of flesh — but she points out a tiny, savage loophole. The bond allows flesh, but it never said anything about blood. If Shylock removes a pound of Antonio, there will be blood. Venetian law prohibits shedding Christian blood in another’s house. So Shylock would either kill Antonio (illegal) or fail the exact terms of his contract. Boom — he can’t take the pound. The court flips. Shylock is humiliated and legally crushed: the law forces him to give up half his money and, in one version, to convert to the dominant religion. It’s a messy, painful aftermath that leaves everyone uneasy — Portia wins, Antonio lives, but the cost is complicated and morally fuzzy.

Back in Belmont, the story softens into awkward, adorable domestic drama. Bassanio and Gratiano (his loud friend) admit they traded Portia’s and Nerissa’s rings to the disguised lawyer as thanks — and now Portia (still pretending) demands those rings back. The husbands panic because those rings were promises. The reveal is comic: Portia and Nerissa drop the act and reveal they were the “lawyer” all along. There are tears, jokes, a few heated apologies, and everything kind of snaps back into place.

The play ends with parties, parties, and a weird peace treaty: lovers reunited, friendships complicated but intact, and Venice left to think about justice, mercy, and how we treat people who are different. It’s a story about how loyalty can be brave, how revenge can feel satisfying and hollow at once, and how law — clever and cold — can be twisted both to save and to hurt. In other words: love, loan contracts, courtroom drama, and one savage loophole that changes everything.

Sonnet 002 - II
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

‘Sonnet 55’ by William Shakespeare (plus a note to readers on our 1,000th poem)

https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/william-shakespeare-sonnet-55

#poem #poetry #english #literature #shakespeare