Thoughts always racing - often toward an unnerving conclusion.
When I saw this in The Tudors a few weeks back, it brought a tear to my eye - it speaks a truth that hit home hard:
Script:
What's that, my Lord?
Oh, nothing. A trifle.
I daresay the Earl of Surrey's "trifles" will someday be regarded as some of our greatest poesy.
Then I daresay your Grace can read it. It's a translation, in sonnet form, of one of Martial's epigrams. That is, of course, the Roman poet...but that doesn't matter. It's about the happy life. The Golden Mean.
The happy life be these I find,
The riches left, not got with pain.
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind.
The equal friend; no grudge nor strife
No charge of rule nor governance.
Without disease, the healthful life.
Wisdom joined with simplicity.
The night discharged of all care.
The quiet mind.
The night discharged of all care. Wisdom joined with simplicity. My God, how I wish these things were true.
Which of these, your Grace, do you not have?
All of them.
Then you are like me. And like all the Romans. And all the Barbarians. And all the generations before us...and all those yet to come. For who does not wish, or rest, with all their heart for the quiet mind? Tell me a single soul who has ever found it?
The actual poem is longer, but within the context of the TV show, I found it was just as powerful:
My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;
The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;
The mean diet, no dainty fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;
The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.
Ed
When I saw this in The Tudors a few weeks back, it brought a tear to my eye - it speaks a truth that hit home hard:
Script:
What's that, my Lord?
Oh, nothing. A trifle.
I daresay the Earl of Surrey's "trifles" will someday be regarded as some of our greatest poesy.
Then I daresay your Grace can read it. It's a translation, in sonnet form, of one of Martial's epigrams. That is, of course, the Roman poet...but that doesn't matter. It's about the happy life. The Golden Mean.
The happy life be these I find,
The riches left, not got with pain.
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind.
The equal friend; no grudge nor strife
No charge of rule nor governance.
Without disease, the healthful life.
Wisdom joined with simplicity.
The night discharged of all care.
The quiet mind.
The night discharged of all care. Wisdom joined with simplicity. My God, how I wish these things were true.
Which of these, your Grace, do you not have?
All of them.
Then you are like me. And like all the Romans. And all the Barbarians. And all the generations before us...and all those yet to come. For who does not wish, or rest, with all their heart for the quiet mind? Tell me a single soul who has ever found it?
The actual poem is longer, but within the context of the TV show, I found it was just as powerful:
My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;
The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;
The mean diet, no dainty fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;
The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.
Ed
Last edited: