Humanities Videos of Interest 2, Two, II

Section 2: Renaissance, Baroque & Classical

Michelangelo Leonardo Da Vinci Donatello

Raphael Shakespeare Martin Luther

Palestrina Bacon Medici

Gutenberg Machiavelli Galileo

Rembrandt Newton Vivaldi

J. S. Bach Handel Bernini

Versailles Opera Encyclopedia

Harvey Napoleon Mozart

Beethoven David

1. Michelangelo, Florence-The Cradle of the Arts (At the fall of Constantinople, many Greek Scholars and Artists fled to Florence.)

2. Leonardo Da Vinci

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kam9kdcN_Ig

3. Raphael, School of Athens, Air on a G String, by J. S. Bach

4. The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 130-a poem, My Mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

from the Drama/Play Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!