"Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York..." I read for the upteenth time as Bumblebee drove me from school to the Ark.
"That makes no sense, Sandra. I don't understand what the slag this Richard III guy is talking about and I can't believe you're suppose to memorize the entire thing," said Bumblebee.
"He's just talking about his jealousy and how he plots to take over the throne, and we don't have to memorize the whole thing but we can for extra credit," I explain.
"But it still sounds kind of funny," Bumblebee confided.
"Yeah, but no one actually talks like that in Shakespeare's time. It's only a play."
"That's good, I don't even want to know what it would be like if I had to talk like that."
"Exactly."
By the time the whole Shakespeare conversation ended we were already at the Ark.
Algebra 1-2 was easy so I finished it with a breeze, the rest were okay. Now, I had to start memorizing the soliloquy:
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
Our bruisèd arms hung up for monuments,
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
And now, instead of mounting barbèd steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature,
Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them-
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determinèd to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunk prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other;
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mewed up
About a prophecy which says that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul - here Clarence comes!
"What the slag were you reading?"
I turned around to see the Twins looking at me with confused expressions.
"Oh, hey guys! I was just reading something for English class."
"What for?"
"To memorize for a project at the end of the year."
Sunstreaker frowned, "But what you're reading doesn't make any sense."
I rolled my eyes, "That's because it's something you don't say in real life, these lines are just from a play!"
The twins looked at each other before looking at me.
"Sooo, how many times are you going to read that?"
"Ummm...probably until I memorize the majority of, if not all the lines from the speech, why?"
The twins gave an evil smile.
"You'll see."
Later
By the time I was done reading in the microphone, which was then heard on the intercom, both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker started laughing their heads off from looking at the confused reactions of many other Autobots and some that were laughing because it just didn't make sense.
I shook my head. Sometimes I just can't believe they are in charge of me.