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    The Shakespeare Notebooks

    Page 7
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      The Tempest – New thoughts

      Keep the island, keep the shipwreck, keep the surprise water cannon.

      Prospero is not just Duke. He is also a magician wizard who studies books of magic. Took them with him to island? Or developed magic powers on island? Both?

      Prospero gets powers from vast-ancient alien underground machine magic tree magic stick branch staff!

      He causes storm at beginning to bring usurper Duke to island (good!). Removes coincidence. Also magic shipwreck to explain why only usurper Duke, King of Naples, Duke’s son, courtiers and funny servants come to shore. Rest of crew and boat on other side of island, everybody asleep.

      Prospero has metal man to carry out orders. “Robot” as in the “movie”? Too much like man in suit of armour, audience will never buy it. Fairy? Familiar spirit? Needs windy name? Wafty? Gust? Aireo? Arial? Ariel perhaps.

      (Check to see if Puck costume still in stores)

      Love story – Girl is Prospero’s daughter, exiled to island with him, has never seen any other men, love at first sight. Prospero uses Puck Ariel to put boy through the mill a bit to check he’s worthy of his daughter. Girl is overcome when she sees other arrivals, “oh lovely brave new world that has such boys men people in it”. Work in chess game.

      Prospero uses Puck Ariel to sort out court intrigue, saves King of Naples life. Using “force field” to make weapons freeze in air etc.

      Invisible id monster attacking “force field” – not sure even Blackfriars up to it. But invisible idea good. Puck Ariel is invisible (but we can see him). Do people-being-pinched-by-invisible-attacker gag (been ages since we did it in “Midsummer’s Night Dream”, no one will remember). Also fairy can shove clowns into rivers lead clowns into swamp.

      Can also show off acoustics of Blackfriars, Ariel singing from behind audience, music coming from hidden musician’s gallery. Masque section – Prospero summons up invisible band and more dancing fairies. Appear and vanish using trapdoors! Insubstantial pageant. Sounds and sweet airs.

      Still needs “baddie”. Monster is ancient alien that built machine? Or primitive? Needs cannibally name. Think anagrams. Whole tribe or only one? Check budget.

      Instead of ancient alien machine, a witch was exiled to island (good!). Canibal was her servant / son. She created Ariel. Then died, leaving Canibal alone on island. (What happened to Ariel? Buried in fathoms of the Earth? Or in sea five fathoms deep? Or trapped in magic tree?)

      Set free by Prospero, hence debt of gratitude. At end, Prospero sets Ariel free, gives up magic stick staff and books. Time to return to real world, dream is over etc.

      Pair up Canibal with clown double-act. Get him drunk on wine, dress up in hilarious trousers (another of Ariel’s magic pranks). Strange bedfellows!

      Big show-down between Prospero and witch at end. Duelling magic staffs. Lots of explosions, smoke, trapdoor business. (Note: check we still have witch costume in store, or we may have to keep witch off-stage.)

      Name for witch? If this is my last play, might as well use that name suggested by Doctor as little thank you. Call her Sycorax!

      So, three plot lines, court intrigue, love story, comedy business with clowns / Canibal. All sorted out by Prospero and Ariel. Too easy? Or claim it is deliberate “deux ex machina” to impress Johnson? Is there a gag in “Dukes ex machina”?

      Nearly there, rest of story will write itself. Should be a real crowd-pleaser, short, sweet and simple! Just need to think of character names for clowns, etc.

      Ah, might be able to help you with that. Here’s a list of the moons of Uranus – Miranda, Ferdinand –

      What is Uranus? That’s not a word I would ever come up with, it sounds disturbingly like –

      Planet, ice giant, seventh one out, won’t be discovered for another eighty years so keep it to yourself. Oh, and one last thing. Don’t forget to put this sheet in with your ‘foul papers’ so I’ll come across it when proofreading the Folio, or, you know, fabric of time.

      I will not forget, Doctor. And thank you for your help. I trust the fabric of time is secure. But I still need a name for the King of Naples. A name I have never used before.

      Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Allons-y, Alonso!

      ALONSO! Yes, that’s it! Alonso! Alonso! ALONSO!

      * * *

      Now could I drink hot chocolate. Through my special straw that makes it fizzy.

      * * *

      EXIT, BY ANOTHER MEANS

      This alternative draft of a section of Act III Scene iii of The Winter’s Tale includes a very different exit for Antigonus after he leaves the baby Perdita to fend for herself. Famously, as published in 1623, the stage direction is: Exit, pursued by a bear. The manner in which Antigonus leaves in this version is rather different, but again it is clear that he has been removed from the action of the play and will not return.

      It is amusing to think that Shakespeare may have replaced this version with ‘Exit, pursued by a bear’ as he thought the audience would find that more plausible.

      There lie, and there thy character; there these

      Laying down a bundle

      Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,

      And still rest thine. The storm begins. Poor wretch,

      A wind blows up from nowhere, unearthly

      That for thy mother’s fault art thus expos’d

      To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,

      But my heart bleeds; and most accurs’d am I

      To be by oath enjoin’d to this. Farewell!

      For I must haste return to Gallifrey

      Too long have I on Earthly shores been homed

      ’Tis time to leave. A savage clamour!

      The strangest sound akin to great wheezing and groaning that ever did assail the ear. A blue box doth appear.

      ’Tis the strangest sound to assail the ear

      And now my blue box doth appear.

      Well may I get aboard! This is the chase;

      I am gone for ever.

      Exit, into the blue box, which then vanishes amid great clamour

      * * *

      A TARDIS, a TARDIS, my kingdom for a TARDIS . . .

      * * *

      THE WINTER’S TALE

      Another draft extract from Act V Scene iii of The Winter’s Tale – this time part of the scene in the Chapel at Paulina’s house that forms the climax of the play, as Paulina reveals what purports to be a statue of the dead Hermione. Of course, the audience knows that the statue is actually Hermione herself, who isn’t dead at all . . .

      LEONTES

      O Paulina,

      We honour you with trouble; but we came

      To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery

      Have we pass’d through, not without much content

      In many singularities; but we saw not

      That which my daughter came to look upon,

      The statue of her mother.

      PAULINA

      As she liv’d peerless,

      So her dead likeness, I do well believe,

      Excels whatever yet you look’d upon

      Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it

      Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare

      To see the life as lively mock’d as ever

      Still sleep mock’d death. Behold; and say ’tis well.

      PAULINA draws the curtain, and discovers

      HERMIONE standing like a statue

      I like your silence; it the more shows off

      Your wonder; but yet speak. First, you, my liege.

      Comes it not something near?

      Enter a strange PHYSICIAN, wearing a hat of Afric.

      PHYSICIAN

      Oh, good job I got here in time.

      You are as bad as Julius Grayle, you know,

      In keeping cutain’d statues hid from view.

      Think I wouldn’t find you, did you – eh?

      Aye, well I’ve got news for you, Sunshine.

      The rest of you, keep looking on the scene

      Beware the statue that appear
    s to be

      Cold stone, unmoving, safe and fancy free.

      I warn you not to blink or look away

      Your lives depend on what I tell you now

      Don’t blink, don’t blink – whate’er you do don’t blink.

      LEONTES

      Methinks the fellow is sore vexed at heart.

      PHYSICIAN

      I tell you, vexed is but the start of it . . .

      Hang on. Am I in the right place? This is 1904, isn’t it, or has my watch stopped? Again? Just a minute – you’re not even a real statue. What’s going on here? Some jolly japes is it? Party games? Pin the tail on the . . . No, sorry, I’m spoiling things aren’t I? This was meant to be a big surprise, climactic reveal and everything. And my iambic pentameters just went right out the window. Sorry everyone. Especially you, Miss Statue. I should . . . I’ll just be going now, if that’s all right with everyone? Um, bye then.

      Exit the PHYSICAN.

      * * *

      To reverse or not to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow?

      * * *

      ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA

      This early draft extract from Antony and Cleopatra appears without explanation in the Notebooks. In this scene, Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, defeated in battle by Caesar and mourning for Antony, has retreated to her monument, where she plots to kill herself.

      ACT V, SCENE II

      . . .Enter Clown with basket

      CLEOPATRA

      Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there

      That kills and pains not?

      CLOWN

      Truly, I have him; but I would not touch him, for his biting is immortal. This is most falliable, the worm’s an odd worm.

      CLEOPATRA

      I thank you. Farewell.

      CLOWN

      Indeed, there is no goodness in the worm.

      CLEOPATRA

      Yes, yes, get thee gone. Farewell.

      CLOWN

      One word more, my queen. Put up thy hand.

      CLEOPATRA

      For sooth! Would you tell me my fortune?

      I hazard I can do that well myself.

      CLOWN

      Be not so sure, good lady. Fortune turns her wheel. A clown shall be a king and a king shall be a clown. The worm will do his kind. Behold.

      Uncovers basket.

      CLEOPATRA

      Fair snake, are you ripe fortune’s worm, indeed?

      CLOWN

      The Mara offers you its hand. I follow the snake and the snake follows me. Such is fate. This worm’s an ouroboros that eats its own tail and is never full. Fortune turns her wheel. Civilisations rise and civilisations fall. And the worm eats all.

      CLEOPATRA

      What a poetic fool art thou!

      CLOWN

      Yesterday a soothsayer. Today a fool.

      I am what the worm bids me. Look at me.

      CLEOPATRA

      A queen look at a clown? Go to.

      CLOWN

      Look at me. I’m not trying to harm you.

      Look at me.

      CLEOPATRA

      Tis a basilisk glare!

      I like not that. There’s hunger in thy stare.

      CLOWN

      Your path’s as forked as is my tongue.

      One way leads down, the other up the hill.

      Take my hand and we shall rise together.

      For my snake has wings that turn the wheel.

      CLEOPATRA

      Magick snake indeed. You do seem taller.

      CLOWN

      My snake gives me power. I serve it well.

      It serves me better. We are well match’d.

      CLEOPATRA

      I am in thrall to no one.

      CLOWN

      No? Good queen,

      You’ve saddled to countless Emperors.

      Why not ride with a snake to generation?

      CLEOPATRA

      Couple with a serpent? I am no fool.

      I do not fear the asp’s bite. I fear its promise.

      CLOWN

      Look at me. Take my hand. And the snake shall

      Take thee whole. All is not lost. The wheel turns.

      You shall be right Egypt’s queen again.

      CLEOPATRA

      Royal Egypt by a gypsy gyped!

      I have won enough fortunes to not count

      The losing of them. You cannot restore

      What I most wish.

      CLOWN

      Your kingdom? ’Tis no matter.

      CLEOPATRA

      My Antony.

      CLOWN

      In that you are too late.

      CLEOPATRA

      Then what is a kingdom without a king?

      Antony’s my horizon and my ruler.

      Cleopatra with no Antony is

      No Cleopatra. I would not be ruled

      By else. No snake can charm his place.

      CLOWN

      Take my hand, fair queen. It will not bite.

      Shake hands with a snake? Ah that’s less certain.

      A woman is a dish for the gods.

      Reach into the basket and find time’s jaw.

      CLEOPATRA

      Ah, get thee gone. Farewell.

      CLOWN

      Yes, forsooth. I wish you joy o’th’ worm.

      Exit

      CLEOPATRA

      Give me my robe. Put on my crown. I have

      Immortal longings in me.

      * * *

      That which we call a Rose by any other name would still be Tyler.

      * * *

      TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

      This is a peculiar variant version of Shakespeare’s play about the Trojan War – a conflict that began when Paris, son of Priam, King of Troy, persuaded the Spartan Queen, Helen to leave her husband, Menelaus, and return with him to his home city. Troy was besieged by the Greeks for almost a decade – until the deadlock was broken by a clever trick involving a wooden horse.

      Here, the Prologue from the original version of the play seems to have some trouble keeping to his place in the drama – and also claims to be the author of the successful Greek plan. Some scholars point to this as more anachronistic evidence that the Notebooks are fakes.

      ACT I

      PROLOGUE

      In Troy, there lies the scene. I’m sure you know

      The tale. Perhaps you’ve read it in a book,

      Or seen it on your television set.

      Perhaps a classics master, with a cane

      Tapped out Homeric rhythm on your desk?

      When Susan went to that ridiculous school

      She carried home some volume from Miss Wright

      That detailed what was known about this war.

      (She sat upon her bed and rolled her eyes.)

      We had a copy, too, of the long work

      That Chaucer made of Troilus and Criseyde

      Bought from a barrow on the Goldhawk Road.

      And I recall a dismal afternoon

      When I took refuge in the ABC

      And saw the story screened in Cinemascope

      With stuck-up British actors flouncing round

      In dreadful togas all in pastel shades.

      (Whatever happened to that Maxwell Reed?)

      The maker Robert Henrysoun, I think,

      Wrote the first version that I came across.

      I said to him, “Now sir, does this poor girl

      In Testament of Cresseid have to die

      In such a nasty way?” I read it out.

      (Excuse the change in metre as I quote.)

      “My cleir voice, and courtlie carrolling,

      Quhair i was wont with ladyis for to sing.

      Is rawk as ruik, full hiddeous hoir and hace

      My plesand port all vtheris precelling.”

      And if you have forgot your Middle Scots

      He’s writing of the scars of leprosy

      Visited upon Cresseid as punishment

      For faults, it seems to me, were not her own.

      (I told him this was harsh, but he was set.)

      So how did Shakespeare tell the story? Hmmm?

      He star
    ted with a Prologue, as I do.

      Uneasily, like this: “From isles of Greece

      The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,

      Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,

      Fraught with the ministers and instruments

      Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore

      Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay

      Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made

      To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures

      The ravish’d Helen, Menelaus’ queen,

      With wanton Paris sleeps; and that’s the quarrel.”

      This is supposed to be an epic play.

      Old Homer in the Iliad produced

      A list of ships of somewhat greater length:

      One thousand, one hundred and eighty-six.

      And “quarrel” seems a feeble choice of word

      When Grecian heroes are protagonists;

      Or so I thought, before the morning came

      When my own ship, the TARDIS, made landfall

      Upon the windblown plains of antique Troy.

      And then I saw the truth of it myself.

      This is how good Will Shakespeare sketched it out

      In his fair play: “To Tenedos they come;

      And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge

      Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains

      The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch

      Their brave pavilions: Priam’s six-gated city,

      Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,

      And Antenorides, with massy staples

      And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,

      Sperr up the sons of Troy.” What do you think?

      The list of names seems less than necessary:

      You won’t hear some of these again tonight.

      But note that “fresh and yet unbruised” bit.

     


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