Enter the tragedian

From "Winefred's Well":

Therefore airy vengeances

Are afoot; heaven-vault fast purpling portends, and what first lightning

Any instant falls means me. And I do not repent;

I do not and I will not repent, not repent.

The blame bear who aroused me. What I have done violent

I have like a lion done, lionlike done,

Honouring an uncontrolled royal wrathful nature,

Mantling passion in a grandeur, crimson grandeur.

Now be my pride then perfect, all one piece. Henceforth

In a wide world of defiance Caradoc lives alone,

Loyal to his own soul, laying his own law down, no law nor

Lord now curb him for ever. O daring! O deep insight!

What is virtue? Valour; only the heart valiant.

And right? Only resolution; will, his will unwavering

Who, like me, knowing his nature to the heart home, nature’s business,

Despatches with no flinching. But will flesh, O can flesh

Second this fiery strain? Not always; O no no!

We cannot live this life out; sometimes we must weary

And in this darksome world what comfort can I find?

Down this darksome world cómfort whére can I find

When ’ts light I quenched; its rose, time’s one rich rose, my hand,

By her bloom, fast by her fresh, her fleecèd bloom,

Hideous dashed down, leaving earth a winter withering

With no now, no Gwenvrewi. I must miss her most

That might have spared her were it but for passion-sake. Yes,

To hunger and not have, yét hope ón for, to storm and strive and

Be at every assault fresh foiled, worse flung, deeper disappointed,

The turmoil and the torment, it has, I swear, a sweetness,

Keeps a kind of joy in it, a zest, an edge, an ecstasy,

Next after sweet success. I am not left even this;

I all my being have hacked in half with her neck: one part,

Reason, selfdisposal, choice of better or worse way,

Is corpse now, cannot change; my other self, this soul,

Life’s quick, this kínd, this kéen self-feeling,

With dreadful distillation of thoughts sour as blood,

Must all day long taste murder. What do nów then? Do? Nay,

Deed-bound I am; one deed treads all down here cramps all doing. What do? Not yield,

Not hope, not pray; despair; ay, that: brazen despair out,

Brave all, and take what comes—as here this rabble is come,

Whose bloods I reck no more of, no more rank with hers

Than sewers with sacred oils. Mankind, that mobs, comes. Come!

Traditio Agenda for Thursday:

1. Prayer & Catechism

2. POL Recitation 2

3. Biblical Comparison: John the Baptist, Jesus & Elijah, Elisha

4. Continue reading Oedipus Rex

Traditio Agenda for Friday:

1. Prayer

2. Ecce Oedipus Tyrranus (watch the 1957 film version of W. B. Yeats' translation)

REVIEW HW:

1. Be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect. Pray, that you may not stumble.

2. Bring Iliad books (We begin Homer on Monday!)

3. Continue to work on memorizing Poetry Out Loud (POL) selections

4. 12-line Imitation of POL due Friday (12/10)

5. Finish Sophocles Worksheet (due Wednesday 12/8)

6. Finish JTB & Jesus Worksheet (due Tuesday 12/7)

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