Shakespeare’s Three Little Swine
By Luana Krause
Once upon a time there were three little swine, Aragon, Barnardo and Caesar. They set out to seek their fortunes and after journeying for many a day, became weary from their travels, so each determined to build a house.
Aragon, remembering the comfortable barn of his youth, built a house of straw. His brothers mocked him and attempted in vain to dissuade him from this foolhardy endeavor. Aragon resisted their arguments forthwith, saying, “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.”
“O, what swine dare to do!” exclaimed Barnardo to Caesar as they continued on their way.
Barnardo built a house of sticks, certain the jewel of the tree wouldst serve him well. Caesar scoffed at his brother’s efforts, snorting with disdain, “What light through yonder window breaks? Thou shalt catch thy death before the morrow.”
Barnardo’s anger burned in his breast, “Is this a dagger I see before me?” he threatened.
“Cowards die many times before their deaths,” said Caesar, and left Barnardo to his own devices.
Caesar built a house of bricks. And though it was difficult work that required much patience, to Caesar it was a labor of love. After many days, the house was finished and the pig made merry with a feast of apples and pomegranates. But he had too much wine, and in a drunken stupor, climbed to the roof, raised his cloven hoof in arrogance, and shouted, “A plague on both your houses!”
On the morn, Aragon heard a rapping at his door.
“Who is’t?” he asked.
“It is I, Sir Beowulf, Lord of Gretel, Knight of the Red Hood and Duke of Earl. Open this door and let me in!”
“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
“Then I’ll huffeth and I’ll puffeth and I’ll bloweth your house in!”
Aragon anxiously paced back and forth, “Now is the winter of our discontent!” he moaned. And before he could say “Beware the ides of March,” Sir Beowulf had blown down the door and gobbled him up.
Barnardo heard a rapping at his door anon.
“Who is’t?” he asked.
“It is I, Sir Beowulf, Lord of Gretel, Knight of the Red Hood and Duke of Earl. Open this door and let me in!”
“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
“Then I’ll huffeth and I’ll puffeth and I’ll bloweth your house in!”
Barnardo fell to his knees to beseech his God, “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; words without thoughts never to heaven go.” And before he could say “Out, out, brief candle,” Sir Beowulf had blown down the door and gobbled him up.
Ere long, Caesar heard a rapping at his door.
“Who is’t?” he asked.
“It is I, Sir Beowulf, Lord of Gretel, Knight of the Red Hood and Duke of Earl. Open this door and let me in!”
“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
“Then I’ll huffeth and I’ll puffeth and I’ll bloweth your house in!”
“Wherefore, thou roguish knave?”
“I’ve come to eat Caesar, not to praise him.”
And with that, Sir Beowulf huffed and puffed … and puffed and huffed … blowing with all his might, but he could not topple the swine’s abode. He thus devised a plot, “Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie.”
Inside the house, Caesar heard noises on the roof. Sir Beowulf must be trying to gain entrance through the chimney. So Caesar prepared a fire in the hearth and placed a large kettle on the heat, chanting as he stirred, “Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.”
With a loud splash, Sir Beowulf fell into the steaming kettle, screaming in agony, “This was the unkindest cut of all!” And before Caesar could say “He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf,” the villain was cooked and ready for the dinner table.
It was a bittersweet feast as Caesar recalled the fate of his brothers and wondered, “When shall we three meet again?” Nevertheless, the swine lifted his golden goblet and proclaimed, “All’s well that ends well.”
