happy birthday

William Shakespeare's birthday is traditionally celebrated today, April 23rd. In honour of the occasion, a short poem:

from MacBeth

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

1 WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd.
3 WITCH. Harpier cries:—'tis time! 'tis time!

1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

3 WITCH. Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches' mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg'd i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add there to a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.

ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

2 WITCH. Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

haunted hantsport

I love "true" historical ghost stories and whenever I travel, I try to find a local ghost walk or graveyard tour to add to my sightseeing schedule. Fortunately, not far from home, there are several old mansions with reputations for housing wandering ghosts. Many were the homes of sea captains and ship builders. Old sea captains' homes are notorious as a haven for ghosts. And last night, one of them was hosting a moonlight tour. (The house, not the ghost.)

Churchill House in Hantsport was built by Ezra Churchill in 1860 for his son John Wiley Churchill as a wedding gift. It has its reported sightings of wandering women, running children, unexplained chills, slamming doors, ghostly music heard in the night . . . but I thought the creepiest story was the one associated with this painting, which is found near the stairway. The painting is of Tennyson's Lady of Shalott, reportedly Churchill's favourite poem. He had the painting hung in the entrance of his home so it would be the first thing to greet him each time he returned. According to the legend, at midnight during a full moon, the lady's hand drops and trails along in the water, the clouds scud across the sky and the boat is rowed along by the oarsman. No full moon last night, nor was I there at midnight, so I'll have to take their word for it.

Down the street from the Churchill mansion is the town's old graveyard. And yes, members of the Churchill family have their very prominent grave stones there. But theirs wasn't nearly as interesting as some of the others, like this plot. Sometimes the need for privacy extends beyond the grave.