Romeo and Juliet Act 5.1

Meanwhile, over in Mantua, there’s Romeo, whom we may have begun to forget. Obviously by this juncture, Shakespeare has to begin to wrap things up, to fulfil his audience’s expectations, and to move on to the play’s climax. Notable here is the role of coincidence and/or fate, and it is significant that this element is again associated with Romeo who throughout the play has invoked “fate” in one form or another. His opening speech in this scene recalls his recent dream: “I dreamt my lady came and found me dead / (Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!).” Of course, people do dream; however, it is rather convenient that Romeo should dream an inversion of what is about to happen in the play, i.e. Romeo finding Juliet “dead.” In the second part of the above quotation, it might be possible to detect Shakespeare commenting wryly on his own creaky dramaturgy, i.e. a dead man in a dream being able to think. This is followed swiftly by more plot manipulation; Balthasar arrives with news of Juliet’s death (so he thinks), which, naturally, induces an immediate, impulsive reaction from Romeo. Note too the convenient reference to the lack of any letters from Friar Lawrence–“Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?” This provides a ready answer to those who might remember that part of the plot. The more cynical might ask how this came about–a knot in the plot which the next scene answers.

Equally convenient and contrived is the second part of this scene. “I do remember an apothecary, / And hereabouts ’a [he] dwells.” Not only that, but said apothecary is poor and hungry and generally in need. And lo and behold “As I remember, this should be the house” where the apothecary lives. Although the apothecary is more than wary of Romeo’s intentions and even cites the laws of Mantua that forbid selling poisons, “My poverty but not my will consents” to sell said drugs. (Note Romeo’s epigrammatic reply: “I pay thy poverty and not thy will.”) And so, poison in hand, off goes our hero. All rather too convenient? The cynical might say so, and if true, then that would decrease the effect of the tragedy. For the more we are made aware of the elementary construction of the drama, the less is the realism achieved; and surely a strong sense of realism is needed to bring about the final emotional effect–otherwise everything is simply play-acting.

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 4.4, 4.5

[Note: The Norton edition combines 4.4 and 4.5 into one scene, 4.4. That rationale can be explained by the way in which 4.4 ends, with the Nurse re-entering and being told to wake up Juliet. Since the Nurse immediately begins 4.5, combining the two scenes eliminates any necessity for the Nurse to leave the stage and re-enter yet again. However, there is no absolute reason why she should not do so, and the location of 4.4 appears to be another part of Capulet’s house, while 4.5 is Juliet’s bedroom. Nevertheless, the action would be continuous regardless of how the two scenes are labeled.)
Given the dramatic close to 4.3, the interesting question in an audience’s mind might well be–how will Shakespeare handle events now? (This assumes an audience that does not know specifically, of course.) Obviously, Juliet’s fake “death” needs to be discovered so that she will be conveyed to the tomb, there to await Romeo’s return–this in itself builds up audience anticipation. Shakespeare enlarges on that anticipation by delaying the discovery and by 4.4 being occupied by mundane preparations for the wedding. That in itself has a measure of irony because of its inherent futility. But look at the tone of 4.5 once the Nurse has made a discovery as exemplified in several speeches:

“Nurse: She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!
Mother: Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!”

“Nurse: O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day, most woeful day
That ever ever I did yet behold!
O day, O day, O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this.
O woeful day! O woeful day!”

These speeches would be equally at home in 5.1 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in the mechanicals’ “tragedy” of Pyramus and Thisby. The repetition of words, phrases, and ideas reduces the speech to almost nothingness (try reciting “balloon” numerous times, and see the effect). Elsewhere, the characters also pile up words excessively–“accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!” “Beguiled, divorcèd, wrongèd, spited, slain!” “Despised, distressèd, hated, martyred, killed!” Indeed, as M. Python might observe, the girl is dead, deceased, expired, passed away, defunct, moribund, extinct, lifeless, departed, is no more, etc. In short, the overall effect is a comic one, and since we know Juliet is not really dead, the scene is indeed comic and provides a release of the previous tension (even though there lingers the sense of the ultimate result that “fate” has in store). And one of the hallmarks of Shakespearean tragedy is the use of the comic at grim moments in a play (think of the gravedigger scene in Hamlet, the Fool in King Lear). But then surely existence is like that, where the comic, the tragic, the absurd co-exist, and where it is only a matter of emphasis before the one becomes the other.

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 4.3

If it has not become evident by now, this scene makes one thing abundantly clear: the emphasis of the play from the end of 3.3 (when Romeo left for exile) has shifted to Juliet. (As a side remark, this alone justifies the title of “Romeo and Juliet.”) The scene (an all female scene) opens with the scene setting business of Juliet preparing for bed, aided more or less by the Nurse, though not Lady Capulet in her brief appearance. Thereafter, Shakespeare gives Juliet a substantial soliloquy that helps crystalize her character, etc. (Incidentally, it is worth recalling that in Shakespeare’s day, the role would have been played by one of the boy/young male actors, and this soliloquy gives us an idea of his capabilities–Shakespeare knew for whom he was writing, and therefore adjusted his text accordingly. Had the boy been incapable of sustaining the role, the role would have been smaller {though one would have to remark, it is also unlikely an inept boy would have been a part of the company!!})

In addition to its length, Juliet’s soliloquy is notable for the way in which she debates whether she should go through with the plan devised by the Friar. She considers and weighs various aspects, including whether the Friar might in fact be trying to deceive her. As she thinks about these things her mind begins to dwell on the fearful (Gothic?) aspects of lying in the vault awaiting Romeo’s return. Then her imagination, not surprisingly, begins convincingly to enlarge upon her fears. The speech is full of convincing detail, and, significantly, absent of rhetorical devices such as anaphora that might suggest contrivance and theatrical self-awareness. (Note her “back-up plan” of using the dagger if the potion doesn’t work reinforces this point.) The upshot is her final swift determination to take the potion: “Romeo, I come! This do I drink to thee.” Potentially, these could be her final words, and Romeo is all her thought–suitably, though effectively, romantic.

One final staging note. Juliet would fall on to a bed that would be behind curtains covering one of the entrances to the stage.  The curtains would be open for this scene, but quickly closed before the next scene, allowing for the discovery made in 4.4.

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 4.2

Those in the audience with a keen eye, and/or a good memory, may notice that the opening of this scene recalls a moment in 1.2. There Capulet had charged a servant to “find those persons out / Whose names are written there.” As a consequence (and not to mention the demands of the plot) the illiterate servant encountered Romeo and Benvolio who read over the list of guests for him, and thus was set in motion the whole action of the play. Now in 4.2 a “servingman” is charged by Capulet “So many guests invite as here are writ” to the wedding. The same illiterate servant???? We never know since he leaves immediately and without comment. However, I rather imagine Shakespeare thinking wryly to himself, “I wonder if they’ll spot that one.” The remainder of the scene is really very straightforward and demonstrates Juliet’s newly found determination to go through with the Friar’s plan (from 4.1). She also does not hesitate to lie (rather than to be ambiguous) to all and sundry. Hence Capulet’s closing line is grossly ironic: “My heart is wondrous light, / Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed.” We all know that the complete opposite is true, and doubtless some in the audience will think–just you wait and see. Finally, the scene does serve one additional function (Juliet’s lying notwithstanding). Since it is a rather brisk and bustling scene, it provides some change of pace and mood before what will be the final sequence of dire events.

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 4.1.44-126

Juliet dominates the first half of this sub-scene, primarily through her determination to commit suicide if she is forced to marry Paris (and thereby lose Romeo). Moreover, her determination is emphasized by her chosen means–a knife. Stabbing oneself is, I would have thought, not the easiest of methods to chose. As if to stress that point, she does also mention other possibilities (throwing herself from “the battlements of any tower,” wandering among “serpents,” facing bears, frightening herself to death in the charnel house, or even being buried alive with a recent dead person). But her first choice is to stab herself. Also, ironically I think, she also stresses Friar Laurence’s wisdom: a wisdom that devises a rather bizarre rescue plan–namely that Juliet take a sleeping draft, appear to be dead, then to be buried, and in the meanwhile Romeo will be told of the plan (by means of letters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and then Romeo and the Friar will rescue Juliet from her tomb sometime later. It is interesting that the Friar details this plan in a lengthy speech (or rather Shakespeare gives him a lengthy speech so to do). It’s worth pondering why this is so. Is his speech lengthy in order to convince Juliet? If so, does that obscure how rather dangerous, or far-fetched the plan is? Or is it that the Friar’s description of the plan is rather like a story, dare one say it, a fiction? Thus it might raise a red flag in the audience’s mind (although, as has been noted more than once, the audience already knows the outcome of the tragedy). Whatever the reason, the Friar’s lengthy speech convinces Juliet thoroughly, as her one-line acceptance demonstrates–“Give me [the potion], give me! O, tell me not of fear!” In many respects she is remarkable, if also naive.

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 4.1.1-43

The scene opens with an “in media res” conversation between Friar Laurence and Paris; this is indicated by the Friar’s use of a question “On Thursday, sir?” The implication is that (what we have not seen on stage) Paris has already told the Friar that he wants to marry Juliet on Thursday, and the Friar (on stage now) is questioning the day. Again, Paris’ speeches reveal that he is a reasonable and considerate person–some might even say rather bland and acquiescent–and he thus contrasts sharply with Romeo (and Juliet). The other interesting feature of the opening sub-scene is Friar Laurence’s aside “I would [i.e. wish] I knew not why it [the wedding] should be slowed.” This serves two purposes. The aside reveals the Friar’s own doubts etc, as well as reminding the audience of the fact that he has been an accomplice in the previous dubious events (marrying Romeo and Juliet on the off-chance it would bring about a reconciliation of the two feuding families). So, although an aside is a rather creaky theatrical device, its use (as here) can be very economical in conveying what the dramatist wants the audience to know.

What follows next (18ff) also reveals much through the style/rhetorical device Shakespeare employs, namely stichomythia (or what might be called ready repartee). Juliet engages in a verbal fencing match (one or two line sharp verbal exchanges), in which she shows her own quick-wittedness, her ability (again) to be ambiguous and misleading. What makes this all the more remarkable are the circumstances Juliet has found herself in (again we should remember she is very young). It’s true that Paris replies in kind, though his situation is markedly different from Juliet’s. Indeed, his sub-text is that of the younger lover happily eager to marry Juliet, and with the approval of her parents.

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© 2008

Julius Caesar Act 1.3.41-130

As Cicero leaves, Cassius enters, and again Shakespeare signals the (open-air/daylight) audience that this is a night-time scene by Cassius’ “Who’s there?” (it’s difficult to see at night), and “Casca, by your voice” (easier to identify by sound at night-time). We are also reminded of the disturbances elaborated upon in the opening sub-scene (1-40), and indeed thunder punctuates the conspiratorial conversation between Cassius and Casca (conspiracy seems to be emphasized simply because there are only two of them?). Noteworthy is Casca’s initial response to Cassius–“A Roman,” which encapsulates much in a single word, much as it would if an American, for example, did the same–though the values and concepts might well be different from what Casca means by “A Roman.” In fact, Cassius’s manipulation of Casca (who incidentally seems to a rather different person from that presented on his first appearance in 1.2) serves to bring out some of the characteristics of what it means to be a Roman, especially when that is threatened by “the senators to-morrow / mean to establish Caesar as a king.” Cassius has led up to this point with his lengthy speech (57 ff) that challenges Casca’s cowardly behaviour. One feature of that speech is the use of the rhetorical figure of anaphora (the series of somewhat parallel phrases beginning with “why”). Shakespeare uses the device frequently in his plays and usually as a means of  alerting the audience that something special is being said (as indeed is usually the purpose of any striking rhetorical device).  Cassius’ dominance of the conversation serves a similar function, at least so far as character is concerned–Casca has few lines, though his response “So every bondman in his own hand bears / The power to cancel his captivity” (101-02) demonstrates the efficacy of Cassius’ oratory, as does their handshake when Casca agrees to join Cassius plot.

There is not space here to delve deeper into the imagery/words of this sub-scene, though suffice to say it is worth close examination–for example, the use of animal imagery in Cassius’ speech 103 ff. Although the use of “wolf” and “sheep” is commonplace, it should be placed in the context of what is sometimes called the Great Chain of Being, in which man’s position in the hierarchy of things is above that of animals by virtue of his exercising rational powers. To say a Roman is behaving as a sheep implies both cowardice and irrationality, broadly construed.

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© 2008

Macbeth Act 1.6

The use of “torches” in the stage directions for the scene indicates that this is a night-time scene (one should remember that Shakespeare’s original audience was seeing the play in the open air in daylight). Notice too that “hautboys” or oboes are to be played, an instrument that can sound ominous and plaintiff (and it is certainly a tricky instrument to play so far as tone produced is concerned). However, Duncan, in a typical piece of verbal scene-painting, points out that Macbeth’s castle “hath a pleasant seat,” that it, it has pleasant surroundings (grand irony, given what we have heard from Lady Macbeth in the preceding scene). Banquo enlarges on these pleasant aspects with his discourse on “the temple-haunting marlet [martin]” and “the air is delicate.” As if to ensure we pick up on the irony, these lines are no sooner spoken than Lady Macbeth, “our honoured hostess,” enters. Noteworthy is the exchange of formal, and apparently friendly greetings; and we should not forget that Duncan is, indeed, the king. One crucial line, from Duncan, is “Fair and noble hostess, / We are your guest to-night” (23-24), which invokes the concept of the rights and responsibilities of a host towards guests when placed under the safekeeping of the host’s roof, as it were. This makes Lady Macbeth’s behaviour all the more hypocritical, to say the least. But it also reveals aspects of her character–that she is able to switch from one role to the next almost without missing a beat, that she can seem to be what she is not. In short, she is, at this juncture of the play, a cool, cold, calculating person, and hence a formidable opponent.

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© 2008

Julius Caesar Act 1.3.1-40

The stage directions for this scene are of some interest. Shakespeare specifies “thunder and lightning” (both effects easily achievable in his day), and these provide the ominous mood for what transpires in the scene. Since Cicero greets Casca (“Good even, Casca”), it is more than likely that they enter from opposite sides of the stage, which provides theatrical/visual interest. (Had they been conversing already, their conversation “in media res,” then obviously they would have entered together from the same side of the stage).

Notably Cicero has few words, a reflection of his character. Casca is voluble and reveals aspects of his somewhat cowardly, superstitious nature. Shakespeare is, however, also using Casca to provide verbal scene painting beyond that achieved by the thunder and lightning aforementioned. There has been a “sway of the earth,” and a very strong “tempest” (that Casca describes extensively and as unlike any other he’s experienced). Moreover, Casca has seen a slave with a burning hand, a wandering lion, “a hundred ghastly women” and their tale of more burning men, a night owl shrieking in daylight, etc. He ends his descriptions with the superstitious conclusion: “ I believe they are portentous things / Unto the climate they point upon.” However, and this is his function (to provide the strong element of rationality), Cicero cooly declares:
“Indeed it is a strange-disposèd time.
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.”
Indeed, that is a universal truism–whatever the evidence, people tend to interpret it subjectively.
It is also very tempting to hear Shakespeare’s own thoughts behind those words. He may have been brought up in rural Warwickshire where “things go bump in the night,” and where locals might tell tales of Robin Goodfellow and his supernatural pranks, but to put straightforward logic into a character’s mouth (that controverts strongly superstition) seems to require a parallel innate belief on the part of the author. But, then again, may be not–and while biographical interpretations of literature have their place (see Charles Dickens and some of his novels) they are also inherently dangerous?

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© 2008

Romeo and Juliet Act 3.5.65-244

The structure of the remainder of 3.5 follows a fairly familiar pattern in this play. First we have Juliet (“left over” from the opening sub-scene) joined by her mother. Second are added Lord Capulet and the Nurse; thirdly we are left with Juliet and the Nurse. So there is clearly a symmetrical form, particularly with the Nurse replacing Lady Capulet, which marks a shift from the parental to however the Nurse’s relationship with Juliet is viewed (possibly a mixture of friend, parent, worldly).

The first section sees Juliet exercising some of her wiles as she engages in double-talk with her mother. Lady Capulet speaks much against “that same villain Romeo,” and “the traitor murderer lives,” which elicits Juliet’s two-edged reply”Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. / Would none but I might venge my cousin’s death!” Given the circumstances is reflects her quick-wittedness, and one doubts whether Romeo would have be capable of that (more likely he would have bewailed his fate). Perhaps an even better example of Juliet’s “ambiguities” comes in the lines “Indeed I never shall be satisfied / With Romeo till I behold him–dead– / Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed.” The lines have an additional resonance when it is recalled the bawdy innuendo contained in “dead” (experience orgasm). However all does not go Juliet’s way since Lady Capulet also tells her about the forthcoming marriage to Paris (which obviously Juliet cannot go through with). Yet even that draws another misleading statement from Juliet: “I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear / It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, / Rather than Paris.”

Capulet arrives to reinforce the notion that Juliet should obey their “decree” to marry Paris (now a major shift from his earlier apparently liberal stance). Now Juliet is a “young baggage! Disobedient wretch” who must obey “or never after look me in the face” (i.e. be disowned). In the midst of Capulet’s growing anger the Nurse’s brief line or two in Juliet’s defence reveals a stronger side to her character (although this is also in the stage tradition of the servant who is wiser than his or her master/mistress). Of course, the Nurse also does not want the marriage to Paris is occur since she is deeply implicated in Juliet’s match with Romeo.

With her parents gone, Juliet is left to sound out the Nurse on what’s to be done: “Comfort me, counsel me.” At this juncture Shakespeare could have taken several tacks, but (and rather typically) he turns to the comic (the Nurse has already been the source of much humour in the play). The Nurse’s advice is “practical.” Romeo is banished, therefore Juliet should marry Paris. Moreover, Paris is “a lovely gentleman,” and in comparison “Romeo’s a dishclout” [dishcloth]. Not exactly what Juliet wanted or expected to hear. Again, her quick thinking leads her to mislead the Nurse; she has displeased her father and so she’ll go and confess her sin to Friar Laurence. Her real reason for seeing him is, of course, to see if he can come up with another solution. But what is really striking is her final determination: “If all else fail, myself have the power to die.” It might be argued that this is the typical teenager’s response (I’ll kill myself) to things not working out. However, Juliet is more thoughtful; she’s exploring possibilities, and sees suicide only as a final answer after all else has failed. Her attitude here is, therefore, all the more admirable, particularly given the circumstances she has faced (in this scene she has seen all the elements that have previously supported her gradually peel away and leave her alone and isolated).

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© 2008