St George’s Day

For Elizabeth, St George and England!! For Shakespeare, the Commonwealth and Yorkshire pud!! For the Ashes, the Ryder Cup and the Six Nations!! It’s about pride (and prejudice), natural justice and common law!! It’s Spring, it’s cold and wet, it’s just the way it is!! England!!

Author: janus

I'm back......and front - in sunny Sussex-by-the-sea

11 thoughts on “St George’s Day”

  1. For a refresher in WS’s genius, see Bernard Levin’s marvellous essay, ‘quoting Shakespeare’.

    If you cannot understand my argument, and declare “It’s Greek to me”, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger; if your wish is father to the thought; if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a fool’s paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then – to give the devil his due – if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then – by Jove! O Lord! Tut tut! For goodness’ sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! – it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.

  2. if your wish is farther to the thought . . .

    That should be father, Janus – or was it Bernard Levin’s mistake?

  3. I am, as you all will be well aware by now, a dedicated, tireless campaigner for multiculturalism, minority rights for the BLT community, diversity, unfettered immigration for any Tomaz, Diego and Hamid who fancies it (but not living too nearby, you understand) and cross border understanding even to the point of hugging a Scotsman. I therefore object to this blatant expression of jingoistic, racist, colonial oppression which has no place in our 21st century Britain.

    I therefore demand this thread is deleted immediately, failing which I will open an account on social media to launch a campaign for the framing in law of my worthy, entitled stance and, er, the renaming of Birmingham as Begumstan. I will nevertheless be lodging a claim with Ambulance Chasers ‘r’ to compensate for my outrage which can only be assuaged by rubbing it with a large cheque paid for by you running dogs of capitalism.

    Oh, and a very Happy St George’s Day to all you reactionaries everywhere.


  4. OZ, I too am all in favour of the Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato community. (That is what BLT means, isn’t it?) Can I get one delivered at lunchtime, please?

  5. Thankyou Janus for reminding us all of a debt to WS. And thankyou OZ for stirring stuff on the music front. Surely that song would fire the hearts of all ENGLISHMEN (and women) on the sports fields.

    There’ll always be an England
    While there’s a country lane,
    Wherever there’s a cottage small
    Beside a field of grain.
    There’ll always be an England
    While there’s a busy street,
    Wherever there’s a turning wheel,
    A million marching feet.

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