a sense of movement, concentrated thing, dance tango, I discovered tango, popular tango classics, something flowing through, suggest a story, tango, tango is a little like the blues in that you have a kind of structure, There is a storytelling element in tango
“There is a storytelling element in there. The tango form is a little like the blues in that you have a kind of structure. It’s not as rigid as twelve bar, but it’s very much a storytelling medium — and there’s an element of call-and-response, and a particular arc in the musical form, that suggest a story. It’s about being in the moment, with the music; and responding to your partner, and the particular feeling and momentum in her body in any one moment. It’s a very concentrated thing; you can’t think about anything else while you are doing it. If you try to hold a conversation, it just kind of falls apart. The music was what really drew me into tango. Everyone knows a few of the more popular tango classics, but once you get into it, there’s such a rich field. It’s astonishing, this kind of miraculous musical form that developed in a very small locality: two cities on either side of the River Plate, in Argentina and Urugauy. It started in the 1880s or ’90s, and there are all kinds of mysteries, myths and stories, about how tango started and developed. It was first of all considered really low-life, almost reptilian. Something to be avoided and not talked about. And then it became this word wide phenomena. . .and I could go on talking about tango forever. . . . but its also to do with movement. I try to get that into my pictures: a sense of movement, something flowing through. A while ago, I realised how much I’d been drawing dancing figures in the corners of my sketchbooks for years before I discovered tango!”
― Alan Lee
“Cities & Countries by Roman Payne is a book about travel, about searching and wandering, about finding greatness in the midst of the world.” Strange adventures meet Alexis when he wanders far from his familiar home in a quest to become a man of the world. What begins as a search for the “Great City,” leads to a wayward and whimsical, romantically poignant, and at times powerfully despairing, jaunt through various cities and countries, far and wide. Along the way, he meets soldiers and hunchbacks, criminals and revolutionaries, madmen and fishermen, goatherds and opium smokers, charlatans, fanatical holy men and beautiful noblemen’s daughters. He encounters glory, suffers poverty and loss. Friends and lovers come and go, while youth gives way to wisdom and experience. Payne speaks to us in his unique timeless tone, mixing mythology, realism and allegory to create a stage for an extraordinary drama that blends comedy, tragedy, gritty prose and magical poetry in an exploration of joy and sorrow, hope and despair.
Whether viewed as a subtle, self-conscious exploration of the haunted house of Victorian culture, filled with echoes of sexual and social unease, or simply as “the most hopelessly evil story we have ever read,” The Turn of the Screw is probably the most famous of ghostly tales and certainly the most eerily equivocal. This new edition includes three rarely reprinted ghost stories from the 1890s, “Sir Edmund Orme,” “Owen Wingrave,” and “The Friends of the Friends,” as well as relevant extracts from James’s notebooks and journals.
About the Series: For over 100 years Oxford World’s Classics has made available the broadest spectrum of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford’s commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, voluminous notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more.
Act 2, Capulet's Garden, Do not swear at all, I know not how to tell thee who I am, love, love poem, My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words, O Romeo, Romeo and Juliet: Annotated Balcony Scene, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?, Scene 2, shakespeare, The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine, William Shakespeare, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied, With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls
Romeo and Juliet: Annotated Balcony Scene, Act 2, Scene 2
Scene II. Capulet’s Garden.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east and Juliet is the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief (5)
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love! (10)
O that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold: ’tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, (15)
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven (20)
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek! (25)
O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven (30)
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? (35)
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
[Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy: (40)
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose (45)
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name, which is no part of thee, (50)
Take all myself.
I take thee at thy word.
Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptis’d;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, (55)
So stumblest on my counsel?
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee. (60)
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
Of thy tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. (65)
How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, (70)
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye (75)
Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet
And I am proof against their enmity.
I would not for the world they saw thee here.
By whose direction found’st thou out this place?
By love, that first did prompt me to enquire.
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. (85)
I am no pilot, yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash’d with the furthest sea,
I should adventure for such merchandise.
Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek (90)
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
What I have spoke. But farewell compliment.
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ‘Ay’,
And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear’st, (95)
Thou mayst prove false. At lovers’ perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
I’ll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, (100)
So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou mayst think my ‘haviour light:
But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange. (105)
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ‘ware,
My true-love passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love
Which the dark night hath so discovered. (110)
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops —
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. (115)
What shall I swear by?
Do not swear at all.
Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
And I’ll believe thee. (120)
If my heart’s dear love —
Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be (125)
Ere one can say ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast! (130)
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
And yet I would it were to give again. (135)
Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee, (140)
The more I have, for both are infinite.
Nurse calls within
I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.
“This was how it was with travel: one city gives you gifts, another robs you. One gives you the heart’s affections, the other destroys your soul. Cities and countries are as alive, as feeling, as fickle and uncertain as people. Their degrees of love and devotion are as varying as with any human relation. Just as one is good, another is bad.”
― Roman Payne, Cities & Countries
‘The past is a foreign country’ has become a truism, yet we often forget that the past is different from the present in many unfamiliar ways, and historical memory is extraordinarily imperfect. We habitually think of the European past as the history of countries which exist today – France, Germany, Britain, Russia and so on – but often this actually obstructs our view of the past, and blunts our sensitivity to the ever-changing political landscape.
Europe’s history is littered with kingdoms, duchies, empires and republics which have now disappeared but which were once fixtures on the map of their age – ‘the Empire of Aragon’ which once dominated the western Mediterranean; the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, for a time the largest country in Europe; the successive kingdoms (and one duchy) of Prussia, much of whose history is now half-remembered at best. This book shows the reader how to peer through the cracks of mainstream history writing and listen to the echoes of lost realms across the centuries.