Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the tag “Shakespeare”

23 Apr 2026
9 Comments

The Writer’s Life: Got the Room to Write


April 23 is Shakespeare’s birthday, which falls around the time in my blog schedule in which I voice some thoughts about the writing life. I’m in the midst of reading different biographies of Shakespeare, while juggling a few writing projects. In the middle of all this I feel fortunate I have a room of my own in which to write, unlike some women writers my reading has uncovered.

Man in historical clothing smiling at a birthday cake with candles and inscription 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY W.S. - 1599' in a warmly lit tavern.

First of all, what I’ve uncovered about Shakespeare:

My reading has added to what is known about Shakespeare with some additional sidenotes. For instance:

Robert Greene casts a snide asperity upon Shakespeare by referring to him as an “upstart crow” in 1592. This is supposedly the first verified appearance of Shakespeare in London. Greene died shortly after that verbal attack. Hmm.

Prior to his London debut, it’s well-known Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway in 1582, became a father in 1583 and again in 1585. His only son, Hamnet, died at age 11. Several facts came to light about his family, such as his father sliding into financial ruin, several of his siblings dying young, his shrewd real estate purchases. Sifting information held within the plethora of tomes about Shakespeare, a few nuggets come sparkling forth. 

  • He was a profound businessman, buying houses and acreage to pad his retirement funds. Let alone that he went from a nobody London hopeful to a respected playwright, actor, and part owner of the most popular theatre in London.
  • He visited Stratford more than people give him credit for, allaying the idea he forsook wife and family for the glittering lights of London. It’s recorded he stayed at The Crown Tavern, an inn owned by the Davenants. He became so close to the Davenants that paternity rumors swirled about, mostly by the Davenant’s son who (it is thought) wanted to grab a bit of Shakespeare fame.
  • He helped arrange a marriage between his landlord’s daughter, and her father’s apprentice, and later appeared in court concerning a domestic matter, namely the nonpayment of the daughter’s dowry.
  • His acting troupe performed at both Queen Elizabeth I’s and James I’s court numerous times, becoming the most successful among the numerous players in London.
  • With his success Shakespeare was able to purchase a coat-of-arms, something his father had wanted, which made him a gentleman, earning him the title of “Mr. Shakespeare.”
  • He outlived all his brothers, and regarded his last surviving sister, Joan, well enough to provide her and her family the means to stay in the cottage he owned after his death. 

As fascinating as Shakespeare is, how interest in him continues, as in the adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet, there is a new focus on the Stratford bard through his sister Joan. It has recently come to light that a religious tract was found hiding in the rafters of Shakespeare’s family home. Signed “J. Shakespeare” it was once attributed to John Shakespeare, the father; however, new research is learning towards Joan, Shakespeare’s younger sister, being the probable author. This indicates the following:

  • She was literate during a time women did not receive a formal education. 
  • She felt strongly enough about her Catholic beliefs to put them to paper in an era when papists (as they were called) could be severely persecuted.
  • More attention is needed in learning about Shakespeare’s sister who lived to be 77 years old, quite a feat thousands, since so many died of ailments ranging from simple infections to the devastating plague.

    As for my recent thoughts about writing, as prompted by the recent discovery about Joan Shakespeare Hart:


    Virginia Woolf created an interesting premise about Shakespeare’s sister with her classic feminist essay “A Room of One’s Own,” exploring the relationship of women and creativity. It did not end well for Shakespeare’s sister in Woolf’s story; on the other hand, it did for the real sister. Joan married, had four children, lived a long life, and was favored by her successful brother. More than that, the discovery that she authored a tract, and is receiving notice some 400 plus years after it was written, shows she has earned a name for herself as a writer.

How many other creative works of sisters, wives, daughters will be found that have just been waiting for credit and discovery? In the meantime I will plonk away in my own little room, thankful I don’t have to hide my efforts in the roof timbers.

Woman in historical clothing writing a letter with a quill pen at a wooden table
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17 Apr 2026
8 Comments

April Is…


As sayings go, I don’t think April is the cruelest month as much as I think it fickle. The indecision of committing to either a rainy day or a sunny one is a tad frustrating.

Rain is lovely in many ways—giving life to the winter weary garden for one, instilling a domicile coziness, and the ion freshness, that petrichor essence.

Alas, too much of a good thing happens after the third day of drenching, not trickling showers. My newly planted bulb garden is now a swamp. The sink backs up due to the overfilled septic field. Coziness has become house damp.

In a teasing reprieve April will suddenly decide to gift us some sun and all is well. Except for those days of sporadic the rain and sun combo. Taking a walk requires extra thought, such as packing an umbrella, just in case. Tending to those fresh weeds that feed upon rain-infused-with-warmth days initiates fortitude, that determination of whether to stick out the few raindrops and hope the sun comes back out.

But April is more than fickle weather. It’s Easter, that joyful recognition of resurrection. It’s assurance winter is receding (never mind those hiccups of occasional snowflakes). It’s poetry month. Shakespeare’s birthday. And it’s Library Appreciation Month.

So-

While April is not my favorite month, I do recognize it is fairly special. In tribute to all the happenings in April here are a few poetical offerings that capture the varied essence of this month.

Dedicated to libraries, librarians, and library workers :

There is no Frigate like a Book (1286)
By Emily Dickinson
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –

Dedicated to poets and poems with a nod to April, with a nod that rain isn’t that bad after all:

An April Rain Song (1921)
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night.
And I love the rain.

Ah, yes–Shakespeare, who celebrates his birthday on April 23, recognizes the melancholy of April’s spring:

Sonnet 98
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud pied April dress’d in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

An Easter Prayer
by Helen Steiner Rice

God, give us eyes to see
the beauty of the Spring,
And to behold Your majesty
in every living thing.

And may we see in lacy leaves
and every budding flower
The Hand that rules the universe
with gentleness and power.

And may this Easter grandeur
that Spring lavishly imparts
Awaken faded flowers of faith
Luing dormant in our hearts.

And give us ears to hear, dear God
the Springtime song of birds
With messages more meaningful
than man’s often empty words.

Telling harried human beings
who are lost in dark despair
‘Be like us and do not worry
for God has you in his care.
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20 Mar 2026

Bard Bits: Spring


Having grown up in a town surrounded by the country, William Shakespeare was comfortable and familiar with the onset of spring. Since the 20th marks the beginning of spring, according to my Dollar Store calendar, here is WS’s tribute to spring in a poem appropriately titled “Spring.”

When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: 
Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: 
Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

For those interested in analyzing possible intent in his words, click “here.“

Being Shakespeare, it is par for the course that he would mix in references to country life, marriage, and the season. There are times I wonder if WS would have found a niche as a country western singer had he traveled in this era.

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06 Mar 2026
3 Comments

Reader Roundup: February 2026


Winter flung its last fling in February providing enough snow to cause much joy and celebration for those seeking a skication. No longer a slope aficionado sought solace by reading a few decent books with only a couple rating a good read.

It’s difficult to find a book about Shakespeare that isn’t a good read. Having no remembrance of where I pick this up, I am glad to have found it on my Shakespeare shelf. Yes, I do have one bookshelf dedicated to Shakespeare.

Anyway–

Ann Donnelly provides a slim yet expansive guide providing an informative overview of Shakespeare. The title aptly reflects what is covered and the accompanying illustrations complement the text well. It nudges me closer to flying across the pond for a Shakespeare-driven holiday.

The other good read is once again a volume of The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion by Beth Brower. This one was volume 8 and unfortunately it is the last volume until Ms. Brower provides further entries to Miss Emma’s life. I have to admit I became somewhat distraught upon finishing this book knowing there are no further Emma journals to peruse. They honestly are addicting.

Apparently, in some reading circles, these slim excursions have become quite popular, and at my local library there is often a waiting list for them. The plain cover belies the wit, the wink of wordplay, the hint of Austen that is present in each entry. I am truly having a difficult time finding other reads that I enjoy quite so well.

The truly odd thing was that they came to my attention via my husband, who began reading them upon the recommendation of another fellow reader. I usually recommend books to the hubs, not the other way around. His snorks of laughter as he read them initiated my curiosity and I confess I would have ignored the non-descript little books on the popular reads shelf otherwise.

Has anyone else discovered Emma M. Lion?

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24 Feb 2026
4 Comments

Bard Bits: Dusting off Bill


Yup, I’m a Shakespeare fan. I even reference my appreciation as a Bardinator, meaning I’ll be back for more in a determined manner (sans the accent).

Some use the term Bardolator, but I can’t say I idealize Shakespeare. I’m still learning about him, hence my given term, since I keep coming back for more.

Really real or not so real—that used to be my question

But I used to think WS was a phoney baloney.

*Gasp*

I know.

I fault my public education’s failure to introduce me to Shakespeare. Nothing in elementary or middle school and just a squeak of a mention in high school. Okay, I did watch Zefferelli’s R&J in the theater and was caught up in the drama, although understanding the dialogue was challenging. That Renaissance English floated over my adolescent head.

I didn’t fully understand Shakespeare beyond I knew he wrote some famous plays and had some poetry creds.

Then I got my teaching gig and realizing Romeo and Juliet was in the curriculum I quickly got myself up to speed.

Long story short I became known as the Shakespeare Lady at school. And over the years have had a fine time getting to know more about the Bard of Avon.

I even visited the Folger Library, which brings me to the important point: even though Shakespeare is such an incredible influence why is there so little known about him?

That niggling doubt of “Was Bill for real?” pops up. Which brings me to the discovery of this article.

It makes sense doesn’t it? Why haven’t historians done the CSI thing sooner and dust for prints or his DNA before?

To think a bit of William might be found cozied in books he could have read is fairly cool. It makes me rethink how much of me is left behind in all those books I’ve read.

I’m with David Tennant on the question of whether or not of Bill. I don’t really care. I simply enjoy his works. And I’ll be back for more.

Posted in historicals, humor, Literature, Reading, reflections, Shakespeare and tagged , , , , , ,
20 Oct 2025

Bard Bits: Time Traveler Report


As much fun as it is to read Shakespeare, sometimes it’s easy to get sidetracked and read about Shakespeare, specifically about his life and times. Then again, since not much is known about his life, more is discovered about his times: Elizabethan England.

As the time period suggests, this is during primarily during the time of Elizabeth I, and of her life there is much written, with plenty of cinema bio treats ranging from Bette Davis to Helen Mirren. If needing a bit of a history refresher, the EETP (Elizabethan England time period) was from 1558-1603, basically her reign which is also known as the Golden Age.

However, all was not golden during that age. Even though that particular era ushered in much modernity into the world, it harbored some fairly ruthless aspects including torture, class divisions, lack of hygiene, illness, amidst other important considerations.

Ian Mortimer, a well-regarded historian, wrote a couple of books presented in a guide format as if the reader were dropped into a particular time period and needed some help navigating everyday life. Since information about William Shakespeare is roughly 20% fact and 80% supposition (my opinion) reading about the times he lived in starts to create a fuller portrait of the man.

Picking up Mortimer’s The Time Traveler’s Guide to Elizabethan England (as a time traveler interested in learning more about Shakespeare), I decide to investigate what a man might wear during EETP because we all know the expression “Clothes make the man” can be very true and applicable.

Did you know?

  • Both boys and girls wear skirts in infancy? Boys don’t get “breeched” (a type of hose) until they are around 6 years of age about the time boys head off to school. Girls don’t get to go to school and unless their family can afford a tutor girls are relegated to housewifery lessons. You would think having such an accomplished woman monarch would have inspired the nation to provide to equal education rights.
  • The thigh-length shirt a man wears to bed is tucked into his breeches and worn throughout the day. With its slit sides the shirt can be tucked inside the legs to act as drawers (boxers aren’t available yet).
  • I hear that question–only the well-off have the affordability to have extra shirts on hand, and bathing wasn’t an everyday occurrence (in fact, bathing was rather a not happening part of EETP), so yes, the times beget rather a distinctive ripeness amidst the population.
  • Men wore waistcoats, doublets, cloaks, hats, shoes/boots, and those ridiculous ruffs, those odd scalloped collars that remind a person of the cone-of-shame a dog or cat endures while healing from procedure. And let’s not forget pumpkin pants.
  • Both men and women wore ruffs, which encircled the neck being sewn out of cambric or linen, and were originally a small adornment but eventually grew in size to become status symbols requiring a servant to starch and maintain its shape.
A jaunty EETP gentleman sporting a double ruff (hoity-toity)

Most portraits indicate Shakespeare was balding and wore his sides long, while choosing to have a fashionably trimmed beard. Men could go to the barber or have a home visit. A comb was one of the essential items a man carried, along with a knife (for all sorts of purposes, including eating–no forks yet). The comb had wide teeth at one end (for detangling) and narrow teeth at the other end (for removing nits–now you will never look at your comb quite the same way). Beard style ranged from the pointed to full to goatee to mustache to a combination. Of course, clean-shaven was also an option. Today’s current trend of the ubiquitous five o’clock shadow would be not well-accepted: either beard up fully or shave in Shakespeare’s day. Sorry Jason Statham.

Sorry, Jason, the tuxedo does not replace the fact you need to shave, particularly for an evening’s entertainment at QEI’s court.

Shakespeare, if following the fashions of his time, would complete with his ensemble with accessories. The comb and knife being mentioned, another item is the purse. This was more of a small leather bag for coins and was attached to the belt. One had to watch out for cutpurses, who did just that. Working as an individual (children were just the right height to snatch and run) or as a gang, purses were cut quickly from belts and the culprit(s)ran off into the crowd. This should have cautioned wealthier individuals from showing off their jewelry; however, one had to show off status. Women weren’t the only ones who liked bling. Men wore gold chains with pendants, or rings, and there is that portrait of Shakespeare wearing a gold earring, although ear piercing among EETP males wasn’t prevalent. A proper gentleman would also carry a sword.

Not only were swords or the thinner rapier, handy for defense, they were also status symbols.

So–
There may not be a plethora of descriptive passages of what Shakespeare wore, although Mortimer provides a fair idea of what he might have worn. Not being a country farmer, nor of royalty, and having achieved some fame and success in the theater, Shakespeare could have attempted to dress in a way that reflected his growing status. He might have looked something like this:

Yes, you can rent this from Boston Costume for a mere $105.00
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22 Sep 2025
9 Comments

Bard Bits: See You Later Summer


When the Montana Shakespeare Troupe arrives in August to our fair town, it is a generally accepted acknowledgement that summer is on the wane. Pleasant weather still lingers, although it is a bit chill in the early morn and evening. There remains the essence of summer.

And then the calendar chimes out its equinoxal announcement that summer is past and autumn is now upon us. I’m not quite ready to bring in the patio furniture yet.

Shakespeare eloquently presents a metaphorical passing of one’s age in his often quoted Sonnet 73:

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Back when in my AP teaching days, this was a poem we studied for its rich imagery and underlying message of mortality. However, bypassing an analysis (I hear that sigh of relief), I do want to focus on the last two the lines, the ending couplet.
In the previous lines the speaker has expressed his concern how he is aging to his lover (maybe even a child–oops, that’s analysis) and in the ending couplet we see the volta, or turn, that indicates a change of mood. Here the speaker interposes the thought that though he might be aging in his own eyes, and in perhaps his lover’s eyes, it is this very state of aging that should initiate an even deeper love for the narrator.
In other words, though summer (his youthfulness) is diminishing and hints of winter are coming (touches of grey in hair), this season of in between, autumn, should be even more cherished as it is the in between time before winter is fully realized.

Yeah, what Shakespeare said.

I welcome spring, enjoy summer, and embrace fall. Fall or autumn still has the warmth of summer, yet it ushers in harvest and nature’s graceful transition into a foliage showcase of beauty. Since retirement I am taking advantage of the gentle warmth of September afternoons. Previously (20 years worth) I wouldn’t get home until after the shadows filled my backyard and I would mourn having missed out on the sunshine having been inside a building all day (okay, mourn is a bit extreme, but I really disliked having to wait until the weekend to enjoy the fall sunshine).

Hoping you are appreciating the fall weather.

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21 Aug 2025
2 Comments

Bard Bits: Bard in the Park


I’ve experienced Shakespeare plays (one experiences his works, versus watches them—a bit pompous sounding,sorry) in a variety of forms: live on stage (several as an audience member and once as Horatio—very brief); large screen theater; small screen TV; reading, and teaching.

One favorite form is watching a performance in the park, as it is open air, much like a Globe performance. Plus there is the anticipation of lively audience response, the atmosphere being one of shared spaces and camaraderie. And the plays are usually free, at least the one that comes to our fair city is.

Every year in August the Montana company arrives and performs one of Shakespeare’s popular plays in a local park. This year they presented a As You Like It, which is one of Shakespeare’s more popular comedies.

Laughing Out Loud
Bard in the Park

Arriving at the park 40 minutes early I discovered the space already teeming with people, but no matter since I prefer the back for that quick exit to avoid the parking lot tangle.

As the sun drifted behind the trees the temps cooled down and the stage action heated up with runaway sons and daughters, tangled romance, and character arcs. As You Like It is a fun romp and the audience showed its appreciation with plenty of applause and laughter.

Bard in the Park signifies the transition from summer fun to back to school readiness. And Jacques mentions going to school in his famous “All the world’s a stage” soliloquy.

Anyone catch a Shakespeare in the Park performance this summer?

Posted in authors, creativity, humor, Literature, reflections, Shakespeare, summer and tagged , , , ,
02 Jul 2025
2 Comments

Reader Roundup: May/June


Time to catch up on my reading shares. I’m having an absolute jolly time in my retirement reading books whenever I want. Mornings used to find me scrambling out the door to get to class before the parking lot filled and evenings were often spent grading, leaving a smidgen of time during the weekend to leisurely read.

Not so anymore. I have started to luxuriate in bed in the mornings and read for a couple of hours before starting my day. Since I am still on teacher time I get up at 5 am and even reading for a couple of hours I am up and ready for whatever the day brings by 8 a.m. I am also deeply investing in hammock time this summer and depending on the book (a shout out to Anthony Horowitz) will spend ALL DAY reading.

When not reading I am at the library volunteering (my happy place), working on my own stories, or fiddling about with yardwork. Reading is definitely my retirement go to.

Here are the five star reads over the past couple of months:

I Could Murder Her by E.C.R. Lorac

Inspector MacDonald steps in early and in his usual smooth, methodical manages to untangle this messy family drama.

Mockingbird Summer by Lynda Rutledge

As with her other book, West with Giraffes, the main character is full of heart and refreshing insights as the book explores the complications of friendship across the tracks in 1964. The ending resonates after the last page is read.

The Essence of Malice by Ashley Weaver

A tangled case for Milo and Amory–this time in Paris.

The Wright Sister: Katharine Wright and Her Famous Brothers by Richard Maurer

Who knew Wilbur and Orville had two other brothers, let alone a dynamic sister? An informative middle grade biography of the Wright brothers’ sister who turns out contributed significantly to their success.

Marble Hall Murders by Anthony Horowitz

The third outing for Susan Ryeland provides readers with a different perspective. No Andreas, for one. And only a brief mention of Katie. Susan is absolutely on her own and once again caught up in editing a book with a sinister agenda that will threaten her life and livelihood.

Candle Island by Lauren Wolk

As with her other books Wolk provides a unique setting with a memorable set of characters. This story combines many plot threads: loss, new beginnings, creativity, animosity, respect, and adapting. Wolk’s signature lyrical prose is admirable.

Shakespeare: The World as Stage by Bill Bryson

A concise, user-friendly overview of Shakespeare in under 200 pages divided into quick chapters blending in known facts with neutral conjecture that adds nicely to anyone interested in learning something but not everything about the Bard.

The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart by Holly Ringland

A deeply profound story of healing through the emotional language of flowers that centers on Alice, who literally rises from the ashes of childhood abuse to a strong, confidant woman. This was also made into a series with Sigourney Weaver, but I have yet to watch.

The Poet’s Dog by Patricia MacLachlan

A short, poignant story of a dog and two children surviving a winter storm huddled together in a cabin once owned by a poet.

As always, you can find my other reviews on Goodreads–I hope you stop by.

Posted in reflections and tagged , , ,
21 Apr 2025
2 Comments

Goats and Monkeys: the other aspect of Shakespeare


National Poetry Month is still among us for a few more days and I would be remiss not to mention Shakespeare and his sonnets. There–duly mentioned.

I am sorely tempted to give a brief lesson about the sonnet, something I miss teaching from my AP English Lit days. BUT (which is an indication of the turn in the sonnet mood or message known as the volta–see what I did there? Yes, I did squeeze in a brief lesson), I shall refrain and instead spotlight that other aspect of Shakespeare.

No–not him being a playwright. Did you know he started out writing sonnets and not plays? That he considered himself more poet that playwright and that he inserted many a sonnet into many of his plays? There are four sonnets in Romeo and Juliet alone. The prologue that introduces the play is a sonnet (watch for the volta–hint, hint “which” works as well as “but”):

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudgeParenthesis break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

There I am talking about sonnets again. Well, it is National Poetry Month. And being such a famous, well-known poet it is difficult not to have spent at least a bit of time about how the Bard rocked sonnets.

Sonnets. Plays. He did write them supremely well. We still read them, watch them, recite them, discuss them and you know what? Just watch a master recite the master discussing April–very appropriate, wouldn’t you say?

The cat is a nice touch.

Here I meant to talk about the other aspect of Shakespeare, and sonnets distracted me. A worthy distraction, true that. Yet, (another word that works as a volta, since I am changing the direction of this focus), beyond the perfect prose and poetry Shakespeare is so admired for there is a darker, mmm, not quite the right word–ribald, yes, Shakespeare has a definite ribald side to him: his insults!

Throughout his plays his characters lob the cheekiest insults at one another. Keeping in mind the majority of those attending Shakespeare’s plays were of the down-to-earth crowd, known as “groundlings” because they pay a penny to watch the performance and stood for the entire time, often shouting out their commentary to the stage actors. Stands to reason then why Shakespeare inserted earthy lines into his plays. He knew how to play to the crowd.

Here are some examples. They start at mild and run the course from G to PG13.

  • “Neighbors, you are tedious. ” —Much Ado About Nothing, Act 3, Scene 5
  • “[You] peevish baggage.” —Pericles, Act 4, Scene 6
  • “[H]e has not so much brain as earwax.” —Troilus and Cressida, Act 5, Scene 1
  • “You are not worth another word; else I’d call you knave.” —All’s Well That Ends Well, Act 2, Scene 3
  • “Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.” —Richard III, Act 1, Scene 2
  • “Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!” —Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2
  • “A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.” —Richard III, Act 3, Scene 3
  • “You rise to play, and go to bed to work.” —Othello, Act 2, Scene 1
  • “Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.” —Othello, Act 4, Scene 2

For more Shakespeare insults try this link:

Or you can create your own insults with this link. This is a classroom activity we used to do during our Shakespeare unit in English. It would culminate in an insult-off between a student and myself with the object of hurling such a created invective that the other person would cry–actually it usually ended up with everyone laughing.

So, a tribute to Shakespeare’s prowess with prose and poetry and a solid nod to his poison pen when it came to hurling insults.

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