Grace

We’re in the forest, and it’s cold, and there’s a very old man near death, because he’s had nothing to eat in days. His name, fittingly enough, is Adam. He’s followed his young master into exile, and there the boy has brought him, carrying him like a child, and setting him before another band of men in exile. These are good men, too, and their leader, Duke Senior, driven from his realm by his envious and ambitious brother, gives to the newcomers of what they have. “Welcome,” he says to the boy. “Set down your venerable burden, / And let him feed.” Meanwhile, he asks one of his kin to play music and sing, because that too is soothing and restorative for body and soul. The song is one of Shakespeare’s saddest and loveliest. Here is the first verse:

Blow, blow, thou winter wind;
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude.
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly!
Most friendship is feigning, most lovi…