THE ‘PRENZIE’ OF MEASURE FOR MEASURE

By Joel Friedman

The First Folio. Measure for Measure, 111.i:

Isabella. This outward fainted deputie,

Whose settled vifage, and deliberate word

Nips youth i’th head, and follies doth emmew

As Falcon doth the Fowle, is yet a diuell:

His filth within being cast, he would appeare

A pond, as deepe as hell,

Claudio. The prenzie, Angelo?

Isabella. Oh ‘tis the cunning liuerie of hell,

The damnest bodie to inuest, and cover

In prenzie gardes:

The Oxford English Dictionary, 2^nd Ed., Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1989:

prenzie. a, obs. A doubtful word…probably an error.

The Yale Shakespeare, Yale University Press, New Haven, 1926:

There has been no satisfactory elucidation of the word’s meaning. The context seems to require a meaning akin to ‘puritanical’ or ‘prim’. Hotson, however, believes that prenzie is Shakespeare’s translation of the now obsolete Italian word for prince (prenze) and the prenzie guards means therefore ‘prince-robes’, clothes with rich trimming. The explanation is not very convincing.

New Cambridge Shakespeare, Cambridge University Press, Gr. Br., 1991:

Prenzie: This crux still resists solution; F2’s emendation ‘princely’ and Tieck’s ‘precise’ are possible, the latter orthographically more plausible, the former attractive for its irony: but Collier supposed Shakespeare introduced the Italian word for ‘prince’, ‘prenze’ and this if unlikely cannot be ruled out with certainty. ‘Precise’ was often applied to Puritans in the sense ‘strict, scrupulous’ (OED). Perhaps ‘prenze’ is Shakespeare’s coinage, fusing ‘princely’ and ‘precise’?

The Arden Shakespeare, Routledge, London, New York, 1988:

The precise Angelo!

O ‘tis the cunning livery of hell

The damned’st body to invest and cover

In precise guards!

precise Angelo!...precise guards! Collier suggested prenze and Br. Nicholson, N & Q (1883) 464, described ‘prenzie’ (F) as an English adjective from the old Italian word used by Boccaccio and others, prenze alias prence, a prince or ruler. L Hotson (TLS, 22 Nov. 1947) mentions that prenze appears in Florio (1611) and compares the formation ‘prenzie’ with ‘countie’, from Italian conte ‘count’. But the word was certainly obscure, or it would not have been changed in F2 (princely). It is even less likely as an adjective with ‘guards’. ‘Precise’ could have been misread as ‘prenzie’, was sometimes accented on the first syllable (with ‘i’ normally pronounced as in French), and makes good sense in the second instance.

In considering the Arden’s choice of ‘precise’, several objections become evident:

a. It is used by the Duke in a highly complimentary context

1.3.11. 50-51:

Duke. Lord Angelo is precise;

Stands at a guard with Envy;

And earlier in his colloquy with Escalus,

1.i.11. 19-24:

Duke. Lent him our terror, drest him in our love,

And given his deputation all the organs

Of our own power. What think you of it?

Esc. If any in Vienna be of worth

To undergo such ample grace and honour,

It is Lord Angelo.

Isabella and Claudio, however, have had vastly different experiences. They have been threatened with dire punishments. The one with loss of virginity, the other with loss of life. It is most likely that ‘precise’ for the Duke holds the same meaning as ‘precise’ for them.

b. Its accent is on the second syllable which halts the rhythm of the speech in the Claudio/Isabella exchange.

c. To use a similar word or expression with disparate, unrelated meaning results in audience confusion.

The word, whichever it may be, is introduced by Claudio in response to Isabella’s severe depiction of Angelo as a hypocrite ‘outward sainted’, a murderer ‘nips youth i’th head’ and a devil. It is unlikely that he would respond with ‘priestly’ or even in its wide generic sense as ‘princely’. He would choose and expression that reflects what specifically disturbs him about Angelo:

Arden Shakespeare, I.2.11.154-160:

Claudio. But this new governor

Awakes me all the enrolled penalties

Which have, like unscour’d armour, hung by the wall

So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round,

And none of them been worn; and for a name*

Now puts the drowsy and neglected act

Freshly on me: ‘tis surely for a name.*

’tis surely for a name’ suggests that arrogance and self-promotion are conveyed in the disputed word Claudio introduced as a response to Isabella’s scalding characterization of Angelo, and with which she eagerly agrees.

In the Postscript to Sir Walter Scott’s novel The Heart of MidLothian there is the following passage:

Helen Walker was held among her equals pensy, that is proud or conceited…

The Oxford English Dictionary:

Pensy, a. Now Scot. and dial. Giving oneself airs, self-conceited.

Dictionary of the Scots Language:

Conceited, overweening, ‘stuck-up’…

What, however, is strikingly significant is that the word ‘pensy’ is used in respect to clothing:

…of things, esp. clothes: neat, well-care-for, smart…

‘Guard’ has a double meaning: to defend, protect (in this instance, a reputation); and to preserve the edge of clothing by preventing it from fraying. Earlier it had been noted that ‘guard’ was used in its first meaning:

Duke: Lord Angelo is precise,

And stands at a guard with Envy; i.e. in a swordsman’s position of defense.

By use of ‘pensy’ Claudio in characterizing the deputy as the arrogant, the self-promoting Angelo, is expressing his animosity. Isabella’s vehement response augments the argument by employing the double meaning of ‘guard’, and by preparing ‘pensy’ in its association with clothing thus attaining the culminating epithet, ‘pensy guards’.

Cl. The self-serving, the conceited Angelo?

Is. Oh ‘tis the cunning livery of hell,

The damnest body to clothe and conceal

His appearance in proper, well-preserved clothing

So as to camouflage his arrogance and self-conceit.

The First Folio, Introduction p. xviii, the Norton Facsimili,

W. W. Norton, New York, 1968, Charlton Hinman, Ed.

The work didn’t always go smoothly. One or the other of the partners was fairly often required elsewhere for at least a short time. When this happened

* My italics

either the remaining compositor carried on alone…or another partner took the place of the absentee.

There were then ample opportunities for lapses and inconsistencies to occur as in the case of ‘prenzie’. Of the three traditional attempts at emendation: precise, princely, and priestly-pensy is closest in pronunciation. In working together is it not unlikely that one man may have dictated to the other, and the word ‘prenzie’ was not misread but misheard?

ã 2009

The Use of the Word ‘Comb’ in

Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew and Cymbeline

Joel Friedman

Petruchio: A herald, Kate? O! put me in thy books.

Katherine: What is your crest? A coxcomb?

Petruchio: A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.

(II i. 222-224, Arden Edition)

In The Taming of the Shrew this repartee has been insufficiently understood. The particular bawdy implications, no doubt, have either escaped the editors or kept them, due to a sense of propriety, at a distance.

The Yale Shakespeare:

coxcomb badge of the court fool

combless gentle, with the crest cut down.

The Pelican Shakespeare:

in thy books in your heraldic registers (playing on ‘in your good graces’)

crest armorial device

coxcomb cap or a court fool (playing on crest, comb: Petruchio then quibbles on cock’s comb)

combless gentle (with comb or crest cut down)

The Arden Shakespeare:

crest (i) a figure or device borne above the shield and helmut in a crest of arms.

(ii) a ‘comb’ or tuft of feathers, or the like, on the head of a bird or animal

coxcomb the professional fool’s cap, like a cock’s comb in shape and color.

A combless cock an aggressive cock, the cut comb being indicative of humiliation.

All the editors cited generally agree on the definitions to which we are giving our attention. However, even without specifically solving the problem one would be hard put to expect Petruchio to characterize himself as ‘gentle’, ‘unaggressive’, or a subject of humiliation.

In 1611 Thomas Coryat (1577?-1617) succeeded after several rejections in printing a book on his world travels called Crudities. Its opening lists a series of panegyrics to the author, most probably solicited and collected by him to facilitate its publication. One of them written by Inigo Jones is most relevant to our investigation. Its opening verses are:

Odde is the Combe from whence this Cock did come,

That Crowed in Venice gainst the skinless Jewes,

Odcombe was Coryats’s birthplace and its division into ‘Odde’ and ‘Combe’ was as well-used literary device. The book has a section where the life-style of the Venetian Jews is discussed including a description of their rite of circumcision.

Taking the couplet on its literal level what is odd about Coryat’s comb cannot be ascertained and is beyond the scope of this inquiry. But the word ‘skinless’ (circumcised) and its juxtaposition with the term ‘cock’ and ‘combe’ suggests particular genital implications. In this context the comb of the cock is equated with the foreskin of the penis, and a ‘combless cock’, in the case of the Jews, is the penis without a foreskin (skinless). Moreover, the association of comb with the crest of an armorial shield adds further substantiation since the function of the foreskin is to shield the penis.

But Petruchio’s retort to Kate of a ‘combless’ or ‘skinless’ cock depicts a condition other than that of circumcision. ‘What is your crest? A coxcomb?’, she asks. ‘A combless cock, so Kate will be thy hen.’ He is telling her his cock is combless due to an erection, and that he is sexually ready to use her as a ‘hen’ (the primary play on ‘cock’) or to bed her.

The Taming of the Shrew was performed in 1594. Jones, like Shakespeare, was a man of the theatre and his contemporary. There is a strong likelihood that he recalled Petruchio’s remark from this or a later revival of the comedy, or that the bawdy use of these terms, as evidenced in Jones’ panegyric to Coryat, may have been current during this period.

In calling Petruchio a coxcomb Kate invited more than she bargained for; but only momentarily. A few lines later, contemptuous of his sexual arrogance, to Petruchio’s, ‘Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you,’ she ripostes, ‘Yet you are withered.’

The further use of ‘comb’ signifying a foreskin is found in the following exchange in Cymbelline:

Cloten: …I must go up and down like a cock,

That nobody can match.

Second Lord: You are cock and capon too, and you

Crow ‘cock’ with your comb on.

(11 i. 1123-26)

The Yale Shakespeare:

Capon…comb on Both these words refer probably to the fool’s cap or coxcomb.

The Arden Shakespeare:

Capon idiot. There’s a play on the “fool’s cap” or “coxcomb,” which also meant simpleton.

Once more the editors’ limited knowledge and conventional use of these terms obscure the full appreciation of the author’s brilliant verbal imagery and ingenious use of the pun. Cloten boasts his penis goes ‘up and down’ and is such ‘that nobody can match.’ The Second Lord careful that he is not too well understood mumbles? (there is no direction of ‘Aside’ in the Folio): You boast you are the possessor of a cock but you are a capon (eunuch) as well. But a further meaning is: Your cock has a ‘cap on’, i.e. as a cock it acts like that of a eunuch-it is incapable of an erection. Furthermore, you boast of your masculine prowess by crowing “’cock’ with your comb on,” i. e. your comb or foreskin tells us your penis is not erect. Is it any wonder Cloten’s response is: Sayest thou?

ã 2009

SHYLOCK’S UNCERTAINTY

A reassessment

by

Joel Friedman

Commentators and interpreters of Shylock have, for the most part, given the impression of a confident, self-sufficient predator. In so doing much of Shakespeare’s subtlety in building the character has been overlooked. Shylock is by no means the stalwart figure that has been generally accepted. The clue to his true disposition lies in the strange choice of his story of Jacob and Laban.

Shylock’s narrative of Jacob outwitting Laban as to the acquisition of the parti-coloured lambs (Genesis xxx 31-43) is puzzling in that it does not adequately respond to Antonio’s denial of taking interest:

11. 56-57 Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow

By taking nor giving of excess,

Curiously, in the next moment Shylock asks:

11. 64-65 Shy. Me thoughts you said, you neither lend nor borrow

Upon advantage.

And Antonio repeats:

11. 65 Ant. I do never use it.1

It is at this point that Shylock tells the story of Jacob and Laban:

11. 66-83 Shy. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban’s sheep,-

This Jacob from out holy Abram was

(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf)

The third possessor: ay, he was the third.

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest?

Shy. No, not take interest, not as you would say

Directly int’rest, -mark what Jacob did, -

When Laban and himself were compromis’d

That all the eanling that were streak’d and pied

Should fall as Jacob’s hire, the ewes being rank

In end of autumn turned to the rams,

And when the work of generation was

Between these wooly breeders in the act,

The skillful shepherd pill’d me certain wands.

And in the doing of the deed of kind

He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,

Who then conceiving, did in eaning time

Fall parti-colour’d lambs, and those were Jacob’s.

That the response to Antonio is off the mark, and that the story itself misses the point has struck several commentators:

The argument has been variously interpreted; (1) it is “Shylock’s bid for mutual undrerstanding” and undermines the differentiation between “natural” and “unnatural” kinds of money-making by showing that profit is always “controlled by the exercise of human skill and ingenuity” (H. B. Charlton, Shakesperian Comedy (1938), pp 141-2;… (2) it is a “sophistical and specious defense of what to an Elizabethan was manifestly wrong” (H. R. Walley, Essays in Dramatic Lit., ed. H. Craig (1935), p 237); (3) it “indicates Shylock’s preoccupation with the problem of…how he may match the cunning of his ancestor…and collect interest without taking interest” (L. W. Wilkins, M. L. N., lxii (1947), 28-30); and (4) it shows that Shylock expects a miracle-“…as God gave the flesh of cattle to Jacob…so will He give Antonio’s flesh to Shylock”…(S. Q., 1 (1950), 256-7.2

The wide variety of these interpretations merely begs the question, i. e., Why does Shylock reply to Antonio’s never taking interest with the telling of the story?

Now Shylock is anything but dull-witted. He has received Antonio’s answer twice, yet we know he is perfectly aware of the merchant’s position regarding interest. He has told us so in his first soliloquy upon encountering Antonio:

11. 39040 Shy. He lends out money gratis, and brings down

The rate of usance here with us in Venice.

Why, then, his insistence on knowing what he already knows and to such an extent that:

11. 41-47 Shy. If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

He hates our sacred nation and he rails

(Even there where merchants most do congregate)

On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,

Which he calls interest: cursed be my tribe

If I forgive him!

Now, why does he tell us Antonio does not take interest, hears Antonio tell him he does not take interest, upon that, immediately asks Antonio if he takes interest, again receives Antonio’s negative response, and then proceeds to tell Antonio the story of Jacob and Laban?

Shylock no sooner begins when Antonio interrupts to ask if Jacob took interest. No, says Shylock, not “Directly interest.” This further confounds the matter for Shylock himself most definitely takes interest, and in so doing puts himself in a bad light in comparison to his ancestor as well as to Antonio. What is gained then by the telling of the story? Surely not its conclusion which Shylock promptly offers:

11. 84-5 Shy. This was a way to thrive, and he was blest:

And thrift is blessing if men steal it not.

In spite of the questionable “eugenics” of Jacob in acquiring possession of the parti-coloured lambs, Shylock justifies Jacob’s behavior because he did not steal and he was blest. But look carefully at, “And thrift is blessing if men steal it not.” Shakespeare is insidiously clever in creating the line’s ambiguity. The reading that first comes to mind is: thrift is a blessing if men do not steal to gain thrift; but alternatively it reads: thrift is a blessing if men do not steal the blessing.

Every member of Shakespeare’s audience was acquainted with this story, and every member of the audience was acquainted, as well, with the circumstances under which Jacob obtained the blessing. Shakespeare is careful to introduce this idea early in Shylock’s narrative:

11. 67-9 Shy. This Jacob from our holy Abram was

(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf)

The third possessor; ay, he was the third.

The nature of the blessing is powerful in the extreme for Abraham, the initial leader of his people, the first possessor, by conferring the blessing onto his son, Isaac, by virtue of its mythic omnipotence, relegated the leadership of the Jews into Isaac’s hands, the second possessor. Now, in his declining years Isaac wished to pass the blessing on to his son Esau, but Rebecca, mother of Esau and Jacob, wished her favorite, Jacob, to receive Isaac’s blessing: “(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf).” She placed Jacob before the blind Isaac, and because Esau was hirsute and Jacob was not, she covered him with skins so that Isaac when he placed his hands on the young man would believe he was blessing Esau. When the ruse was discovered it was too late, the blessing had been delivered, could not possibly be rescinded, and Jacob became the third possessor of his people. Shakespeare is leading his audience toward one conclusion in spite of Shylock’s effort at justification: the blessing is stolen as well as the parti-coloured lambs. And to be doubly certain that his auditors will be aware of this deception, Antonio has this response:

11. 89-90 Ant. Was this inserted to make interest good?

Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?

Shylock’s rejoinder is patently lame:

11. 91 Shy I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast, -

How can Shylock known for his intelligence, his cunning, in the face of this critical confrontation with his sworn enemy come off so poorly?

At this point it would be enlightening to consider Shakespeare’s position toward usury.

“By laws civil and ecclesiastical, usury – that is, the exaction of interest of any

sort – was a crime. With expanding trade and manufacture the practice was widening, but was by no one approved in principle. By 37 Henry viii cap ix, the old laws against usury are indeed abolished, and a rate of ten per cent is indirectly legalized by the fixing of severe penalties for any rate higher; but the practice is condemned, and classed with corrupt bargains.” Under Edward vi the act of Henry viii is annulled but by 1570 Elizabeth has re- enacted Henry’s law, but “foreasmuch as all Usurie, being forbidden by the law of God is synne and detestable,” it ordains that interest even at ten per cent is a criminal act.3

In spite of ecclesiastical opprobrium business was conducted as usual for it could not possibly be conducted without the instrument of interest or “usury” as the church would have it. There was hardly a business man in Shakespeare’s audience who did not charge or pay interest at some time or other, and at the same time attend Sunday sermons fulminating against the practice. Both the church and the mart simply looked the other way. Shakespeare, then, was writing for an audience largely ambivalent to the practice of usury. Therefore, he took every opportunity to emphasize its employment as a crime by taking pains to establish its negative character, for example, in this short scene selects a wide variety of terms deprecating it, viz., thrift, advantage, excess, use, usage, and interest. Shylock, the villain of the piece, had to be presented at the outset as the criminal, the alien, the outsider; Antonio, the victim, strange as it may seem from a business point of view and regardless of his prosperity as a successful merchant, must remain innocent of Shylock’s crime.

Although Shylock is undoubtedly the criminal there is however, ground for mitigation. The supposition that many commentators would have that Shylock asks enormous rates of interest and gouges his debtors out of their property is not evident anywhere in the play nor is it substantiated by the facts just cited. Shylock who is ever conscious of the letter of the law would never dare charge more than the legal ceiling of ten per cent. In fact, his tenacious adherence to the law is the very cause of his downfall. In act IV, scene I, it is his insistence that the letter of the bond be followed that provides Portia with the means of saving Antonio’s life, i.e., not shed one drop of blood or weight of flesh beyond the strict stipulation of the bond.

1. 310 Shy. Is that the law?

Shylock is introduced to the play by going over the terms of the bond with Bassanio. It is evident that it is the latter, eager to secure the money who seeks out Shylock. Antonio, considering the profound hatred existing between him and the money-lender would never approach Shylock. Later, it is established that Bassanio does not seek him out and initiates the terms of the bond:

11. 59-62 Ant. …(To Bassanio) is he yet possessed

How much ye would?

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

Ant. And for three months.

Shy. I had forgot, - three months, - (To Bassanio) you told me so.

Bassanio has informed Antonio of the bond’s conditions before the present encounter. Shylock approves the money to be loaned, the length of time of the loan, and in the third instance, approves the fact that Antonio shall be bound to its payment:

11. 1-5 Shy. Three thousand ducats, well.

Bas. Ay, sir, for three months.

Shy. For three months, well.

Bas. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. Shy. Antonio shall be bound, well.

This last statement is given emphasis on its placement as the third and final provision of the bond. But, more importantly, in the choice of language: “Antonio shall be bound, well.” That final “well” is like the strike of an anvil. Shylock at long last has made a concrete connection to his adversary. Up to now there have been only insults hurled at him by Antonio in the mart and on the Rialto. The question before him is how to make capital of this opportunity. Bassanio asks him for his response but he hedges. He says Antonio is a reliable business risk, “a good man,” but then proceeds to summarize the perils of taking him on: he has “squandered” his ships throughout the seas, ships are flimsy vessels, sailors unreliable, the threat of pirates, the weather unpredictable. Yet after enumerating these conditions, oddly enough, he tells Bassanio he will take the bond. He asks to speak with Antonio. Bassanio says he may see him at dinner to which he is invited. He refuses the invitation but later accepts. What is Shylock doing? He has consented to the terms of the bond, why, then doesn’t he close with Bassanio? Evidently he is biding his time – he doesn’t know what his next move should be. But then he catches sights of Antonio. To appear at ease he aimlessly asks, “What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?” Now, in an aside, he expresses his hatred for him:

11. 41-2 Shy. If I could catch him once upon this hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

He senses he has been given his opportunity but still doesn’t know what to do with it. To gain time he claims he cannot readily come up with the money but, no matter, his friend Tubal, will furnish him. Now Antonio is at his elbow. Again he asks how many months are desired. Of course, he knows. But here stands Antonio and he is contemplating his next move. He greets Antonio who ignores the greeting. Instead, Antonio goes straight to the business of the bond, telling him he will make an exception of giving or taking interest for the sake of his friend. Ignoring Shylock once more, he asks Bassanio if Shylock, “is yet possessed of how much ye would?” To gain a footing Shylock interrupts and answers the question. Antonio adds, “And for three months.” Still playing for time he claims he had forgotten the term was for three months.” Still playing for the time he claims he had forgotten the term was for three months. He attempts to calculate the rate, “and let me see, - “ of course he knows the rate perfectly well. He brings up the question of Antonio never taking interest which Antonio has just expressed. An unwise question since he is well aware of the answer and reveals what a tentative state he is in. Antonio repeats that he never uses it. Still not quite knowing how to proceed and not in any way responding to Antonio’s reply concerning his never using interest, he plunges into the story of Laban and Jacob. The story fails to make its point with Antonio and results in his bitter barb:

11. 90-1 Ant. Is your gold and silver ewes and rams?

Shy. I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast,-

A lame rejoinder. Sensing this, and at a standstill, he resorts to business, “But not me, signior.” He is about to calculate the rate of the bond for the second time when Antonio, ignoring him once more, addresses Bassanio with his most insulting remark, “The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose,-“ Shylock disguises his humiliation by repeating the conditions of the bond, and, for the third time, needlessly attempts to calculate the rate. Antonio turns to him:

11. 100 Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?

After the last insult and the arrogance of this question Shylock can contain himself no longer, and lashes out with all the vehemence stored up for so long, culminating in:

11. 123-25 Shy. You called me dog: and for these courtesies

I’ll lend you thus much moneys?

Antonio responds venomously:

11. 125-6 Ant. I am as like to call thee so again

But then:

11. 127-32 Ant. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

As to thy friends,……………………………….

…………………………………………………………

But lend it rather to thine enemy,

Who if he break, thou may’st with better face

Exact the penalty.*

In the instant Antonio has furnished Shylock with his opportunity! Out of his own mouth Antonio has delivered to Shylock the instrument of his own possible destruction. Shylock has “caught him on the hip” at last. Now he sees his way clearly. Three times he had tread water by pretending to estimate the bond’s rate – but no more. He must make the terms of the bond as attractive as possible. He will take “not a doit of usance” for his money. The ducats will be obtained on the instant. He urges Antonio to hurry with him to a notary and seal the bond. He will “purse the ducats straight.” No need for the Tubal ploy now. And the pound of flesh? Well, a passing jest, a jolly idiosyncrasy, nothing of the slightest concern. Anything to conceal the device dealing the death blow. All is done in friendship, in kindness. But only let us hurry to seal this merry bond.

The action rushes forward now, for there must be no time for the audience to wonder at Antonio’s precipitate acceptance of this ridiculous proposition. They have Shylock’s “this is kind I offer,” Bassanio’s “This were kindness,” again Shylock’s “This kindness will I show,” and Antonio’s “There is much kindness in the Jew,” ringing in their ears. Anyway, the stipulation of the pound of flesh is so outrageous an idea that in spite of Bassanio’s objections Antonio accepts it without question. The scene is rich in subtlety. Shylock’s inability to directly pursue his incessant intention to harm Antonio, reveals his misjudgement in the selection of Laban and Jacob, and through the cunning justification of Jacob’s shady practice exposes his own duplicity. Only with the fortuitous admonition of Antonio to lend money, “rather to thine enemy” does he provide Shylock with a direct path to his revenge.

* (My italics)

---

1 All quotations from The Merchant of Venice are to be found in The Arden Shakespeare, Harvard Univ. Press, 1959.

2 Ibid., Act 1, scene 3, p. 26, n. 72-85.

3 The Merchant of Venice, The Signet Classic Shakespeare, New York, 1987, p. 165.

ã 2009

ARCHITECTURAL ELEMENTS OF SHAKESPEARE’S GLOBE

A Directorial Point of View

Joel Friedman

Despite the reconstruction of the Globe Playhouse (1997), any reproduction of an Elizabethan theatre remains subject to a legion of suppositions. The little that is known of the stage itself is dominated by the de Witt sketch (c. 1596) of the Swan’s interior. Although the sketch is based more on assumption than assurance the drawing persists as the accepted model.1 This model now stands on London’s Bankside and is popularly considered the definitive recreation of Shakespeare’s Globe.

Questions remain, however, concerning the architectural features of this stage or any other stage that presented Shakespeare’s plays. First, how do actors get to and from the upper and lower levels? Second, should the upper gallery be, as it is in the present Globe, roofed, recessed, and fenced by a railing broken at intervals by columns as depicted in the de Witt sketch? If so, would not this arrangement impair the audience’s view of the action? Finally, what type of windows did Shakespeare employ and how did they function? A close scrutiny of Shakespeare’s texts will take us a considerable way towards solutions to these questions.

In considering the first of these problems – how actors get to and from the upper and lower levels – those involved in the reconstruction of the Globe, as well as most scholars and editors, believe the only way of reaching either level was by means of a staircase concealed behind the tiring-house. This notion has persisted despite the fact that the texts demand the use of an on-stage stairway that ascends to some form of upper stage. There is no doubt there were concealed stairs, but they served as they still do in the modern theatre as an ‘escape’ to complement the staircase on stage for the purpose of allowing actors to be discovered above, or for exits and entrances to and from the backstage area. Those editors who have accepted the existence of the concealed stairway in lieu of the one on-stage, consequently misinterpret the demands of the texts, and have assumed, wherever original stage directions were lacking or seemed contradictory, that Shakespeare or his compositors had been somewhat remiss. Such editors supplied texts and entrances in order to justify their assumptions.

Smith accepts these stage directions wholly:

…a stairway was not in the front of the tiring-house façade, or elsewhere in full view of the audience, for whenever an actor went from one floor to another, he disappeared from view. This fact is indicated by the many stage-directions which give an ‘exit’ to an actor when he stakes to the stairs, and an ‘enter’ or ‘re-enter’ when he appears at the new level. The stairs, therefore, were off-stage, behind the scenic wall. 2

Consider, however, 3 Henry VI, scene 1.3 The Folio’s direction:

Enter Warwick, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and Others upon the Walls.4

1. 6. Enter Somerville.

Somerville enters onto the platform stage and tells Warwick, above, that the drum being heard is not that of Clarence, points out the direction of Southam, and remarks that whoever approaches is near at hand. At 1.15. he must ascend to join Warwick as the enemy, Edward, Richard, and soldiers enter onto the platform. There are no stage directions instructing Somerville to exit below and enter onto the upper gallery which a concealed stairway would require. Therefore he must visibly ascend. In so doing, and here we address the second question, does he climb over the traditional railing to gain access to the upper gallery, or is it more likely that he has easier entry to that area?

1.57. Enter Oxford, with drum and colours.

At 1.59. he, too, ascends to join Warwick. Again, no stage directions, but the following line has Richard saying:

1.60 Rich. The gates are open, let us enter too.

Reinforcing the position that there is visible access to the upper area.

1.66 Enter Montague, with drum and colours.

And 1.67. no stage directions are provided, but he must ascend following the action of Somerville and Oxford.

1.71. Enter Somerset, with drum and colours.

At 1.72. again, no stage directions; still he must ascend as well.

Had Coventry been situated on the platform level, where the editors Capell and Malone, due to the lack of stage directions, place it, there might be some justification for their instructions to Oxford, Montague, and Somerset: “He and his forces enter the city.” (These editors have forgotten Somerville.) But Coventry is already established on the upper level where, among others, stands ‘the Mayor of Coventry.’ A concealed staircase would not be directorially practical because all this activity would require those ascending to exit the platform, disappear, and then re-enter above. This would impede the action and add a repetitious quality to the scene. No directions are specified, nor need there be, since the stairs are at hand and visible.

Now we are looking at a considerable number of actors upon the upper gallery. There are no less than four plus ‘…Others upon the walls’ discovered at the top of the scene. In addition, there are Somerville, Oxford, with drum and colours, requiring, at a minimum, two actors; Montague, with drum and colours, and Somerset, with drum and colours. That makes fourteen plus ‘Others’ all assembled on the upper level. It is doubtful that the area of the traditionally railed ‘Tarras,’ now part of the present Globe, could possibly accommodate such a large company, and that the actors could be clearly seen behind such a railing interrupted by columns.

Let us consider Smith once more:

The rough and tumble battles that were staged upon it in some of the early historical plays suggested that it was fronted by a sturdy balustrade, or even (as in the de Witt drawing) by a solid parapet.5

Nevertheless, he considers the directorial authority of Harley Granville-Barker who he quotes:

What could the groundlings, or people in the lowest gallery, effectively see of scenes played three feet back or more behind that masking balustrade, and of seated figures particularly? Make them out, perhaps they could, but it is not enough. For scenes to be effective, especially if they are of emotional import, the actors of them must be able to dominate their audience, Juliet, leaning over he balcony, can do this. But Hamlet and the Ghost, or Cleopatra with the dying Anthony – put them behind a Venetian shutter or balustrade, and the actors might as well be acting in a cage. 6

Granville Barker’s italics.

As all exit, the text states:

Warwick and his company follow.

11. 112-16. War. Alas, I am not cooped here for defense!

I will away toward Barnet presently

And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest.

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.*

Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!

Exeunt. March. Warwick and his company follow.

More specifically, Kind Edward on the platform ‘leads the way’ and exits through the platform doors. ‘Warwick and his company follow’ Edward down the stairs. It would not be visually logical for Warwick to ‘follow’ Edward by exiting off the upper stage level. This stage direction negates the possibility, as well, that some of the actors may have exited unobtrusively. The only practical way to clear such a large company off the stage – and speed is essential at the transition of scenes – is to have them descend the on-stage stairs. Such time must be taken for this ‘Exeunt’ that it is not unreasonable to believe that two stairways, right and left of the upper level, may have been used. The platform is occupied by ‘Edward, Richard, and soldiers’ and later joined by several characters ‘with drum and colours’ bringing the total number, both on the upper level and on the main stage, to seventeen plus soldiers and others. This is a heavy strain on any company, yet the necessary presence of all mentioned discounts the possibility of doubling.

Many instances, as further citations will show, of on-stage stairs leading up to a projected upper platform devoid of railing and columns and spacious enough to

* My italics throughout.

accommodate a goodly number of actors, thrusting out onto the main stage and open on three sides, are a requirement of the texts. C. Walter Hodges’ concept, despite latter-day conjectures, is still most compelling in suggesting:

…a temporary structure jutting out from the façade of the of the tiring-house and raised about seven feet from the main stage….

Which would be spacious enough to accommodate so great a number. Using the instance of Christopher Sly in The Taming of the Shrew, Hodges is aware that the frequent coming and going of the servants catering to Sly must require:

A light stairway (that) leads up on one side, and up this from below come the servants with apparel, basin, and ewer.

Does his ‘light stairway’ mean a ladder or a portable unit to be moved on and off the stage? The doing of this would slacken the pace of the performance. It would serve the situation better if his ‘temporary structure’ were a permanent feature of the theatre’s architecture.7

In the earlier cited 3 Henry VI stage directions for the opening scene are:

Alarum

Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard, Norfolke.

Montague, Warwicke and Soldiers

The text requires that a throne be situated on the upper platform with stairs descending to the main stage, for Warwick says:

11. 21.-25. War. ……………victorious Prince of York

Before I see thee seated on that throne

I vow by heavens these eyes shall never close.

This is the palace of the fearful King,

And this the regal seat:

1. 32: They go up. This is the Folio direction.

No exit from the main stage is given nor an entrance onto the upper platform in order to reach the throne. The visible stairs discount the need for such directions. A curious note is appended to this stage direction by the Arden editor:

S. D. They go up) …to the chair of state at the back of the stage. It is unlikely to have been on the upper stage; as Wilson points out (129), ‘the dialogue… allows no time for “going up” by the stair in the tiring house.’

Wilson, of course, is right in that there is no time to use the off-stage stairs. ‘They go up’ does not mean up-stage ‘to the chair of state at the back of the stage’ in the sense that this term is used in the modern theatre. It means they ascend on-stage to the throne above.

In Act 111, scene 3. once again a throne is situated on the upper platform with stairs leading down to the main stage. The Folio direction:

Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, his sister,

Bona, his admiral, called Bourbon.

They enter onto the upper stage.

Prince Edward, Queen Margaret, and the Earl of Oxford

Enter onto the main stage.

Lewis sits and riseth again.

11. 1.-3 K Lew. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,

Sit down with us: it ill befits thy state

And birth that thou should’st stand while Lewis sit.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

11. 15.16. Lew. Whate’er it be, be still like thyself,

And sit thee by our side.

At some point she ascends, for the direction is:

Seats her by him.

1. 43. Enter Warwick.

He enters onto the main stage.

11. 44.-46. Lew. What’s he that approacheth boldly to our presence?

Mar. Our Earl of Warwicke, Edward’s greatest

Friend.

Lew. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings

thee to France?

He descends. She ariseth.

Once more, no exit for Lewis off the upper stage nor entrance below. Yet Warwick is speaking to the king as Lewis descends. At this point Margaret has but two lines:

11. 47.-48. Mar. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;

For this is he that moves both wind and

tide.

Yet Warwick is addressing Lewis on his descent:

11. 49.-52. War. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,

My lord and sovereign and thy avowed

friend,

I come in kindness and unfeigned love,

First to do greetings to thy royal person…

Act IV, scene 7. The stairway descends from the upper platform to meet gates crossing it at the lower level.

Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, Hastings, and Soldiers.

11. 7.-19 Edw. What then remains, we being thus arrived

From Ravenspurgh haven before the

gates of York,

But that we enter, as into our dukedom?

Rich. The gates made fast! ……………………………

……………………………………………………………

Edw. By fair of foul means we must enter in,

For hither will our friends repair to us.

Hast. My liege, I’ll knock once more to summon them.

Enter, on the walls, the Mayor of York and his Brethren.

May. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming

And shut the gates for safety of ourselves,

For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.

11. 27.-29. Hast. Why, Master Mayor, why stand you in doubt?

Open the gates; we are King Henry’s

friends.

May. Ay, say you so? the gates shall then be opened.

He descends.

No exit from the upper level is given.

Enter the Mayor and two aldermen.

11. 35.-37. Edw. So, Master Mayor: these gates must not be shut

But in the night or the time of war.

What! fear not, man, but yield me up

the keys;

Takes his keys.

The Mayor has visibly descended. The stage direction: Enter the Mayor… indictated his arrival at the gates.8

1 Henry VI, Act 1, scene 5:

Here an alarum again, and Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth

him; Then enter Joan La Pucelle, driving the Englishmen before her.

Then enter Talbot.

He drives the Dauphin down the stairs. He is given no exit off the upper level. Joan drives the Englishmen down the other stairway. She is given no exit off the upper level. While her action is taking place, Talbot ‘enters’ onto the platform stage.

11. 1.-4. Tal. Where is my strength, my valour, and my

force?

Our English troops retire, I cannot stay

them.

A woman clad in armour chaseth them.

Enter Pucelle.

Here she comes. I’ll have a bout with thee.

The Folio’s entrance of Talbot, and the entrance of Joan, has them both descend severally down the stairs onto the main stage.

Here they fight.

11. 13.-14. Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:

I will go victual Orleans forthwith.

A short alarum: then enter the town with soldiers.

She ascends the stairs to re-enter Orleans which has been established throughout scenes 4 and 5 on the upper level. The Arden editor cites a most interesting note for 1. 14. :

S. D.) Joan here goes form the lower level to the upper stage …lines 15-18 being spoken thence (Brooke).

11. 15.-18. Puc. O’ertake me if thou canst: I scorn thy

strength.

Go, go, cheer up they hunger-starved men;

Help Salisbury to make his testament:

This day is ours, as many more shall be. Exit.

Tucker Brooke agrees that Joan’s speech is spoken as she ascends to the upper level.

Act II, scene 1. of the same play has the upper level held by the French. The stage direction:

Enter a Sergeant of a Band, with two Sentinels.

The Sergeant leaves. The rest, of an unspecified number, remain.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with scaling ladders.

Their drums beating a Dead March.

They enter onto the main stage and place the ladders against the upper level. After the English have scaled the walls with: Cry, ‘Saint George!’ ’A Talbot!,’ the stage direction at I. 38. is:

The French leap over the walls in their shirts….

This direction discounts the presence of a railing and suggests that the front of the three-sided elevation earlier described was used for just such a purpose.

Simularly, King John, Act IV, scene 3. Arthur leaps off the wall after expressing a rhymed couplet:

11. 7.-8. I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away

As good to die and go, as die and stay.

and lands on the main stage with the following rhymed couplet:

11. 9.-10. O me! my uncle’s spirit is in these stones:

Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!

To have him slow the action by clambering over a railing would impair the textual formality of the event, impede the cohesiveness and continuity of the couplets, and dissipate the spontaneity of the suicide.

To return to 1 Henry VI, Act V, scene 3. has the direction:

Sound. Enter Reignier on the walls.

he parlays with Suffolk who is on the main stage:

1. 143. Reig. Upon they princely warrant I descend

To give thee answer of thy just demand.

Capell gives Reignier an exit off the upper level which does not appear in the Folio.

1. 145. Suf. And here will I expect your coming

Trumpets sounds. Enter Reignier.

Again, this ‘entrance’ marks a visual descent onto the main stage.

1. 146. Reig. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories;

There is no time for him to use the tiring-house stairs. However, in order to justify his descent in the traditional way, J. Dover Wilson states: ‘The fanfare gives time for Reignier’s descent.’ (Cited in the Arden Edition). This reasoning based on the accepted assumption that the concealed stairway is the only means of descent, does not recognize the necessity of the continuity of the dialogue nor the theatrical need to avoid dead time.

Titus Andronicus Act 1, scene 1.

Flourish. Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft. And then enter

Saturnius and his followers at one door, and Bassanius and his

Followers at the other, with drum and colours.

The brothers enter from each of the main platform doors with their entourages and sure for the crown, appealing to the Tribunes and Senators situated on the upper level. The brothers dismiss their followers:

1. 62. Sat. Open the gates and let me in.

1. 63 Bas. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

Flourish. They go into the senate house.

Since they entered from opposite doors the logical staging would have them each ascend the stairway right and left to the upper platform.

Richard II displays the most vivid use of the on-stage stairway. Act 1, scene 3. finds the kind observing from the upper platform the lists located on the main stage. Mowbray, and the appellant, Hereford, are to confront each other in single combat.

The Lord Marshall addresses Richard:

11. 52.-55. Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your Highness

And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.

Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms.

Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right…

No exit from the upper platform is provided for Richard. The text succinctly illustrates his movement. Richard, as he says, descends the on-stage stairway to embrace Hereford and remains to wish him well. He returns to the upper platform at some point before:

1. 99. Rich. Order the trial, Marshall, and begin.

In Act III, scene 3. Bolingbroke, York, and Northumberland appear on the main stage before Flint Castle. At 1. 61. Richard appears on the walls attended by Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroope, and Salisbury.

11. 176.-79. North. My lord, in the base court he (Bolingbroke) doth

attend

To speak to you: may it please you to come down?

Rich. Down, down I come, like glistering Phaeton,

Wanting the manage of unruly jades.

The dramatic point of the speech is not only his descent before the eyes of Bolingbroke and his party but before the eyes of the audience, for all to observe the manner in which he comes down: ‘frantic’ says Northumberland at 1. 185. For Richard has rushed in his descent in imitation of the incapable Phaeton handling so incompetently Apollo’s runaway horses.

11. 180.-83. Rich. In the base court? Base court, where kings

grow base,

To come at traitors’ calls, and do them grace!

In the base court? Come down? Down, court!

Down, king!

For night-owls shriek where mounting larks

should sing!

At this point he has reached the main platform. Yet Capell has Richard and his supporters still on the upper level and gives them: ‘Exeunt from above,’ a stage direction that does not appear in any of the Quartos or Folio. It instructs Richard, Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroope, and Salisbury all to exit and re-appear on the lower level during the speaking of a bare two and one-half lines:

11. 184.-86. Bol. What says his majesty?

North. Sorrow and grief of heart

Makes him speak fondly like a frantic man;

Yet he is come.

Nor does Capell’s direction: ‘Enter King Richard and his attendants below’ appear in any of the Quartos or Folio. Yet the Arden editor supports Capell in this:

Richard descends form the upper stage by the stairs concealed in the

tiring-house and emerges through one of the stage doors onto the platform stage. This change seems to take place during Bolingbroke’s

words at 1. 184…

There is no question of ‘seems’ for the point of the descent is missed: that is, Richard’s attitude and physical movement are lost in the enactment of the ‘glistering Phaeton’ simile; Shakespeare’s direction is ignored, and, consequently, the confrontation between Bolingbroke and Richard is obliviated. All because the text is not perceived as a guide to the use of architectural elements nor taken at its directorial value.

Troilus and Cressida, Act IV, scene 5. opens with the Folio’s stage direction:

Enter Ajax, armed, Achilles, Patroclus, Agamemnon, Menalaus, Ulisses,

Nestor, Calcas, Etc.

At 1. 63. all ‘Exeunt,’ except Ajax who remains on stage followed immediately by the direction:

Enter all of Troy, Hector, Paris, Antenor, Helenus and Attendants.

Flourish.

The ‘Exeunt’ of the Greeks instructs them to ascend the stairs to the upper platform where they are joined by the Trojans, except for Hector, who remains on the main stage to engage in single combat with Ajax. Now on the upper level there are ten principals plus the indeterminate ‘Etc.’ of the Greeks, and ‘all of Troy’ of the opposing camp. Once more, it must be noted that so large a group could not possibly be accommodated by the conventional ‘Tarras’ of the present Globe.

Now both Greeks and Trojans look down on the lists in which Ajax and Hector are to fight. At 1. 157. the Folio has:

Enter Agamemnon and the rest.

whereby all descend the stairs to join the two combatants on the main platform. The exits and entrances of so large a group leaving the main stage to re-appear above, then to leave the upper stage and re-re-appear on the lower platform, which a concealed stairway would necessitate, could only result in time wasted during which no lines could be spoken, thereby halting the progression of the action and creating general confusion.

King Lear, Act II, scene 1. at the penultimate line of Edmund’s speech:

1. 19. Edm. ………………………………………Briefness and Fortune work!

Quarto’s 2 and 3 and Folio have:

Enter Edgar.

1. 20. Edm. Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say!

Edmund sees him above and bids him come down. There is no exit for Edgar, and the ‘Enter Edgar’ indicates his descent to the main stage.

The initial direction in Julius Caesar, Act III, scene 2.:

Enter Brutus and goes into the pulpit, and Cassius, with the Plebians.

Since the Plebians enter on platform stage along with Brutus’ co-conspirator, Cassius, it is necessary that Brutus obey the double direction: ‘Enter Brutus’ with Cassius, and leaving Cassius, ‘Goes into the pulpit,’ that is, ascends to the upper level. The juxtaposition of the two directions is too close to suppose that Brutus exits to ascend then re-appearing above.

Gurr and Ichikawa in spite of their acceptance of the traditional balcony, realize that this direction disallows Brutus from speaking at such a disadvantage:

In Julius Cause, 3.2 when Brutus enters for his oration, the stage direction reads, ‘Enter Brutus and goes into the pulpit, and Cassius with the Plebians.’

The fact that he is said to enter followed by the others indicates that he does

not speak from the upper level, the stage balcony. Some object was available

on the main stage. It had to provide him with height, so that his head could be

clearly visible above the crowd…9

1.11. 3 Pleb. The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!

He ascends under the eyes of Plebians. At 1. 63. Brutus is given an exit. To be consistent with the earlier ascent he must descend visibly and leave through one of the platform doors.

Later, Antony asks the Plebians:

II. 162.-65. Ant. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?

All. Come down.

2 Pleb. Descend.

3 Pleb. You shall have leave.

Antony descends in the short time it takes 2 Pleb. to say:

1. 168. 2pleb. Room for Antony, most noble Antony!

He immediately arrives on the main stage with:

1. 169. Ant. Nay, press not upon me; stand far off.

It would be impossible to create Shakespeare’s staging of this scene’s graphic action and Antony’s rapid descent, if his only means were a concealed staircase.

Act V, scene 3, of this play:10

1. 12. Cas. This hill is far enough. Look, look Titinius!

It is evident that Titinius partially ascends the stairs. There is no stage direction.

11. 13.-19. Cas. Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?

Tit. They are, my lord.

Cas. Titinius, if thou lovest me,

Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in

Him,

Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops

And here again, that I may rest assured

Whether yon troops are friend or enemy.

Tit. I will be here again, even with a thought. Exit.

This ‘Exit’ is the Folio’s direction. Tititnius is only partly up the stairs as we know from Cassius’ instruction to Pindarus in the next line. To exit Titinius must descend.

1. 20. Cas. Go, Pinadus, get higher on that hill;

Pindarus ascends the stairs to a higher point than that of Tititnius. There needs no stage direction.

1.21. Cas. My sight was ever thick. Regard Titinius,

And tell me what thou not’st about the field.

Hanmer needlessly supplies an exit for Pindarus; the Folio has none. During the following three lines of Cassius, Pindarus has gone ‘higher’ on the hill; the Folio places him ‘Above.’

1. 33. Cas. Come down; behold no more.

At 1. 36. the Folio has ‘Enter Pindarus’ where he rejoins Cassius on the platform. We have seen this direction before where no exit from the upper level is indicated yet an entrance is given to visibly descend. The action on this ‘hill’ is most persuasive evidence of the presence of an on-stage stairway.

J. W. Saunders is also aware of the necessity of a ‘visible scalado’.

In Julius Caesar there is a need for a raised elevation described as

a ‘pulpit’ or ‘publicke chair’ in III, 2, and as a ‘hill’ in V, 3. In the first

scene there is a direction ‘Enter Brutus and goes into the pulpit’

and references like ‘The Noble Brutus is ascended’ and ‘Noble

Antony go up,’ but no exits or re-entrances marked, as we might

expect if the players had had to leave the platform to reach the

higher level of the Tiring-House. In the second, Pindarus climbs

‘higher on that hill’ and is given the directions ‘Pind. Above’ and

after his descent ‘Enter Pindarus.’ His ascent occupies 2 and one-

half lines of the play and his descent 2, insufficient time to leave the

platform from an upper level…Indeed, Pindarus takes about the same

time to reach his hilltop as Antony takes to reach the pulpit. (The

assumption is that his ‘scalado’ is used in both scenes establishing the permanency of the stairway).** Here we have the choice of a window

reached by a visible scalado…11

The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act IV, scene 5.12

Enter Host and Simple. Simple states he comes to speak with Falstaff.

1.5. Host. There’s his chamber, his house, his castle, etc.

Go knock and call.

That Falstaff’s house is on the upper level is established by:

1.10. Simp. There’s an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his

chamber. I’ll be so bold as to stay, sir, till she comes

down. I come to speak with her, indeed.

The Host calls up to the house and Falstaff appears:

1.17. Fal. How now, mine host?

Host. There’s a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of

thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her descend.

Enter Falstaff. The Quarto direction.

** My parenthesis

No exit from the upper level is indicated. Once more, this direction ‘Enter’ brings

him down the on-stage stairs to join the Host and Simple onto the main platform.

The final scene of Timon of Athens, Act V, scene 4. has the direction:

Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens.

They enter onto the main stage.

1.11. Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town

Our terrible approach.

‘Sounds a parlay’

‘The Senators appear upon the Walls.’

At the very least four Senators appear to contend with Alcibiades.

1.55. Alcib. Descend and open your uncharged ports.

later, once again:

1.64. Alcib. Descend and keep your words!

The Senators descend and although no exit nor entrance is marked for them, it is apparent they have visibly reached the main stage:

1.81. Alcib. ……Bring me to your city.

……………………………………….Exeunt.

The final direction indicating that Senators, Alcibiades, and Powers all leave by the main stage doors.

The on-stage stairway is imperative for an understanding of Shakespeare’s staging of Act 11, scene 2. of Macbeth. But first, the opening of the scene must be considered. Lady Macbeth enters and addresses her speech to the audience at the center point of the platform’s edge, a convention generally accepted as the position most effective for the delivery of the soliloquy. After her ninth line the Folio has Macbeth ‘Enter’ with:

Who’s there-what ho!

He appears on the upper level as she exclaims, still to the audience:

11. 9.-13. Lady. Alack! I am afraid they have awaked,

And ‘tis not done:-th’attempt and not the deed

Confounds us.-Hark! I laid their daggers ready;

He could not miss ‘em. Had he resembled

My father as he slept, I had don’t.

Macbeth and the Lady are now on stage, he above, she below,13 and she continues her address to the audience, presumably ignoring her husband.14 Editors and directors, not appreciating the dramatic value of this staging have, for the most part, followed Steevens (1773) and Johnson in discounting the Folio’s ‘Enter’ for Macbeth, and substituting ‘Within,’ requiring Macbeth’s exclamation to be heard off-stage. This emendation impairs the tension of the moment for it is the playwright’s purpose to show simultaneously Macbeth’s panic and his wife’s anxiety on hearing his cry and concluding that the murder is unaccomplished.

After completing her soliloquy Lady Macbeth turns toward him:

11. 13.-17 Lady. …………………………………………My husband!

Macb. I have done the deed. –Didst thou not

hear a noise?

Lady. I heard the owl scream and the cricket cry.

Did you not speak?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now?

Macb. As I descended?

Lady. Ay.

Macbeth says he spoke as he descended. She could not have answered ‘Ay’ had she not seen him do so.

The ‘Monument scene,’ Act IV, scene 15. in Antony and Cleopatra has puzzled scholars, editors and directors. The problem has been created by the insistence of placing the monument on the upper ‘Tarras’ and then determining how to negotiate the heaving of Antony’s body up to that area. There is the further difficulty in how to stage the action behind the railing.

Bradbrook is aware of the problem but due to his acceptance of the received idea concerning the area settles on the following compromise:

A solution would be to place Friar Lawrence’s cell above…. This would

involve some difficulty, of course, since Romeo is lying on the floor in

3.3, and he would be concealed by the balcony rails. The same difficulty occurs in Antony and Cleopatra, where the wounded Antony is hoisted over the rails and dies behind them. When characters have to leap the walls it would add greatly to their difficulties if they had to vault the rails in order to do so.15 **

** See the death of Arthur above.

J. W. Saunders, however, doubts the practicality of the railing, but accepts the stairways:

The text leave no doubt that in both scenes the ‘Monument’ is an

elevated acting area accessible from below on two opposite sides.

In IV, 15 stage directions-‘Enter Cleopatra, and her Maides aloft’ and ‘They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra’ – imply that the hero is hoisted

aloft, perhaps with the aid of block and pulley…’ …the protagonists

cannot make much of themselves or their passion, precariously balanced on a windowsill or prone behind gallery banisters.16

Before proceeding, what must be determined is the height to which Antony had to be raised. Beckerman conjectures:

How high the body had to be raised is uncertain. … Neither 10’ nor 12’ are prohibitive heights although a railing would be difficult to work over. Perhaps it was possible to remove a portion of the railing.17

The height of ten or twelve feet would be prohibitive, indeed. The leap of Arthur to the lower stage from such heights would be most dangerous. So it would be for the French who ‘leap over the walls in their shirts’ in Act 11, scene 1. of 1. Henry VI. Hodge’s conjectures of seven feet is more likely and much safer. Beckerman attempts to cope, as well, with the railing of the upper gallery.

Gurr comes nearer to a solution:

The question of what was below the tiring-house gallery, is less easy to resolve…There must in fact have been two kinds of feature. One was permanent, a curtained alcove or discovery space in the tiring- house wall, which served as a shop, tomb, cell, study or closet. The other was a special property, a raised platform…as in Antony and Cleopatra a ‘monument’ big enough to hold Antony’s body and several women on top, but low enough for the women to lift the body up on to it… 18

Twenty years later, however, in collaboration with Ichikawa he appears to have changed his position:

It might even be thought that the top of the monument was the main stage platform, and that Antony was brought in from the yard, where the Roman soldiers come in to catch Cleopatra. The chief evidence cited in support of this reading is Diomedes saying ‘looke out o’thother side your monument,’ which seems to suggest it had sides, like the main stage, while the linear balcony did not.

But the authors reject this theory and are still left with the raising of Antony’s body to the upper stage. They then ask:

…would Antony have been laid on the balcony floor for his dying speeches, out of sight behind the balustrade? What could justify the conclusion that this whole scene was staged in the small balcony space, leaving the vast space of the main platform empty?

The author’s solution is that he was raised to the upper gallery in a chair!

It would hold Antony conveniently seated both for hauling him up and for setting him down to speak his last speeches with his head still visible over the balcony.19

A staging even the most inept director would quail at. Imagine Antony speaking the immortal line, ‘I am dying, Egypt, dying’ seated in a chair with only his head visible.

Thompson comes closer to the mark:

The conclusion must be that the gallery in the tiring-house façade was ideal for the accommodation of a silent observer, but inadequate in every respect for any scene of prolonged dialogue…The problem comes with the dialogue that follows the raising of Antony. To set one of the play’s climactic moments at the back of the stage, behind at least a railing or banister, if not something more solid, seems to me to be lunacy…The preference…must be for some structure erected on the platform proper, with upstage treads concealed from most of the audience. Access to the Monument for Cleopatra and her attendants would be through the stage door and up these treads. Diomedes then enter through the other stage door, an stands against the tiring-house facade to answer Cleopatra’s question by telling her of Antony:

His death’s upon him, but not dead.

Look out o’ the other side your monument;

His guard have brought him thither.

(11. 7-9)

The instruction can be obeyed quite literally. Cleopatra turns to look downstage as Antony is carried in. He dies, as any actor of the part would choose, in full view of the audience – and his body is carried out by way of the upstage treads and the stage door.20

Thompson is thinking of a free-standing structure which would require Cleopatra and her attendants to enter through the main stage doors, use treads to reach the top of the monument, then descend with Antony’s body and exit through one of those doors. These ascents and descents, however, are unnecessary in view of the thrust platform, three-sided and unrailed, which abuts the tiring-house wall and affords exits and entrances directly to the upper level. Thompson’s treads are concealed for the simple reason that lifting Antony up to Cleopatra would make no sense if the treads, visible to the audience, should not be used for that purpose. The stairs, rising right and left to the upper level, might possibly have been covered by canvas or cloth resulting in a pyramidal form so suitable to this scene.

The raising of the body, then, is quite simple. The soldiers bring Antony on to the front of the monument. At a seven-foot height they have only to lift him up to the waiting women of which there are at least five: ‘Enter Cleopatra with her Maides aloft, with Charmain and Iras,’ who have possibly a foot more in which to ‘heave’ him onto the platform.21 This does not suggest that the acting of the raising of the body would appear easy. ‘How heavy weighs my lord!’ They exit, bearing Antony’s body upstage off the upper level.

Finally, what type of windows did Shakespeare work with? How did they function? Do they meet the specifications of the text? The bay window and the conventional window, supported by the wall in which the latter is set, do not. Most likely, they must have been windowed or casement doors more like our ‘French doors’ opening out toward the audience.

In Act V, scene 1. of The Taming of the Shrew, 1. 13.: ‘Pedant looks out of the window’ is the compositor’s direction. It is accepted that the Pedant appears on the upper level. The direction at 1. 55. is: Enter Pedant with Servants, Baptista, Tranio’ where he then appears on the main platform. How does he get from the upper to the lower level? Simply by passing through the window, that is, the windowed door. Surely he is not expected to climb over the sill of a bay or conventional window. Once through, he descends the on-stage stairs. The Arden editor, under the supposition of a concealed stairway, is puzzled that the Pedant is not given an exit at 1. 53. in order to make the concealed descent before appearing on the lower stage. This editor has:

…after 1. 53. no exit is marked for the Pedant, but he must be given time to leave the window before his entry on the main acting level after 1. 55.

The Pedant needs no time nor is there necessity for such an exit. Are we to conclude along with the Arden editor that the compositor failed to designate an exit but, two lines later, supplied the Pedant with a legitimate entrance? This misconception disappears in view of the on-stage stairs and the use of the windowed door. Finally, the compositor’s direction: ‘Enter Pedant with Servants, Baptista, Tranio.’ serves a double purpose. It not only instructs the Pedant to descend, a device we have met with before, but brings the rest onto the platform by one of the main stage doors.

The Folio’s ‘Enter’ for the Pedant, that is, his descent to the main stage, is similar to the direction for Jessica in The Merchant of Venice, Act 11, scene 6. Here 1. 25. states, ‘Jessica above.’ She has passed through the windowed door in response to Lorenzo’s, ‘How! Who’s within?.’ At 1. 40. Lorenzo asks her to ‘Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.’

11. 49.-50. Jes. I will make fast the doors and gird myself

With some moe ducats and be with you straight.

No exit is marked for Jessica in either Quarto or Folio. At 1. 57. there is ‘Enter Jessica.’ Again, would not the compositor note the discrepancy and correct it? He does not because there is none. The direction for her to enter does not pre-suppose an exit above to a concealed stairway. Her entrance, like the Pedant, is nothing more than her arrival onto the platform stage where she joins Lorenzo. In the seven-line interim she is occupied in doing what she has said she will do: locking the windowed door through which she has entered, picking up a bag of ducats (pre-set), and descending, whereupon without further word they leave.

In Romeo and Juliet, Act II, scene 2. the use of the windowed door is quite apparent:

1.3. Rom. But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

He suspects he sees her behind the door. As she passes through it:

1.4. Rom. It is the east and Juliet is the sun!22

A similar use of door and stairway is made in Act III, scene 5. The initial stage direction of Quarto I is: ‘Romeo and Juliet aloft at the window.’ At I. 36.: ‘Enter Nurse hastily.’ She warns Juliet of Lady Capulet’s approach:

11. 30.-31. Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.

The day is broke, be wary, look about.

I. 64. has ‘Enter Lady Capulet.’ That she appears on the main stage is evident from Juliet’s remark who speaks from above: Is she not down so late…’ At I. 67. in Quarto 1 Juliet’s direction is: ‘She goes down from the window’ bringing her bedroom with her,23 so to speak, for the scene is unchanged but continues on the main stage to join Lady Capulet, the Nurse remaining above. In order to do so Juliet must pass through the windowed door. There is no exit for Juliet to gain access to the tiring-house stairs, nor an entrance to appear below. To Lady Capulet’s question:

1. 68. L. Cap. Why, how now Juliet?

Juliet’s response follows directly:

L. 69. Juliet. Madam, I am not well.

where she is already on the platform stage. The Arden editor has:

Juliet withdraws at the upper level and descends unseen, reappearing

on the stage to answer her mother’s call.

This is clearly impossible as there is no time for such an action, as well as ignoring the stage direction: ‘She goes down from the window.’ The direction at I. 125. ‘Enter Capulet and Nurse’ serves, as in former citations, the double purpose of bringing the Nurse down the stairs to join Capulet who enters on to the main stage.

It is unfortunate that the de Witt sketch of the Swan has wielded so prevailing an influence. It was seriously limited students of the period to the possibilities that theatres other than the Swan may have been designed with variant architectural features. Taking the drawing as it stands it is strangely lacking in the most essential of productional elements. What serves as an upper stage appears to be occupied by spectators rather than character of a play. In view of this perhaps the gallery of the Swan may never have been meant as an area for the play’s action at all. There is an absence of an inner stage or discovery space which the Roxana (1632) and Messalina (1640) title pages clearly depict, and the unsided platform lacks a trap door. Is it possible that van Buchel never saw the presumed lost drawing of de Witt and set down a graphic rendition of de Witt’s verbal report?24 To consider this sketch, incomplete as it is, as a template for all Elizabethan and Jacobean playhouses contradicts the practice of theatrical construction. No architect attempts a replication of a standing building without some measure of improvement.25

The undertaking of the reconstruction of the present Globe is a most significant event in the evolution of Shakespearean research and certainly makes a cardinal contribution merely by dint of its existence. But how much more authoritative would so worthy an enterprise be, if it had freed itself from traditional concepts and turned to one of the more obvious and richer sources of information concerning Shakespeare’s stage – his texts.

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1 Lawrence, W.J. The Elizabethan Playhouse and Other Studies, Shakespeare Head Press, 1912, p. 12. “…The van Buchel sketch (after de Witt) is not a minutely accurate mirroring of the playhouse (the Swan) it depicts at second hand. It is, indeed, matter for regret that we have no satisfying view of the interior of a Pre-Restoration playhouse, nothing that corroborates or amplifies the evidence synthetically derived.

2 Smith, Irwin, Shakespeare’s Globe Playhouse, Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1956, p. 118.

3 All scenes cited and their lineations are from The Arden Shakespeare.

4 Cairncross, Andrew S., cited in 3Henry VI, The Arden Shakespeare, Methuen, 1962, xix. “It is obvious that (Folio) was based on the author’s manuscript. The stage directions as Sisson notes, are elaborate and literary and thus presumably authorial.”

5 Op. cit. p. 120.

6 Ibid. pp. 127-28.

7 Hodges, C. Walter, The Globe Playhouse, Coward McGann, Inc. New York, 1964, p. 60. “…First I find that Professor G. F. Reynolds after a close analysis in his book, The Staging of Elizabethan Plays at the Red Bull Theatre, has come to a similar conclusion, and gives many examples of the textual and theatrical aptness of such a fit-up. Sir Edward Chambers, too, is prepared to accept it, speaking of the possibility ‘of some porch-like projection from the back wall’ which may have been supported by posts, and Cranford Adams has conjectured such a feature as being an intermediate development in the structure of the playhouse.”

8 This arrangement of stairs leading down to gates is represented in The Triumph of James I, London, 1604, Plate 32, cited in Hodges.

9 Gurr, Andrew and Ichikawa, Mariko, Staging in Shakespeare’s Theatres, Oxford Univ. Press, 2000, p. 58.

10 First noted by W. J. Lawrence. Cited in Hodges, p. 61.

11 Saunders, W. J., Staging at the Globe 1599-1613. Cited in Bentley, Gerald Eades, The Seventeenth Century Stage, Chap. xv, Univ of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 1968, p. 252.

12 For this play the Quarto’s stage directions are more reliable.

13 Thompson, Peter, Shakespeare’s Theatre, London and New York, 1988, p. 153.

14 That, at first, she ignores Macbeth, that is, does not ‘see’ him is a convention

Shakespeare has used before in King John, Act IV, scene 3. (11. 11-34).

At the death of Arthur, who has hurled himself off the wall, Pembroke,

Salisbury, and Bigot enter, yet they do not ‘see’ the body during the remaining fourteen. Here are four characters on the main stage who do not

‘see’ him; the same area upon which lies the corpse of Arthur

15 Brabbrook, M. C., Elizabethan Stage Conditions, Cambridge Univ. Press, 1932, pp. 39-40.

16 Op. cit., p. 251. Saunders block and pulley has been employed in modern theatre. This writer recalls seeing Laurence Olivier being hoisted up by such means. This was in 1951 in New York at the Ziegfeld Theatre where he presented Shaw’s Caesar and Cleopatra and Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra in repertory. However, he does not believe such an arrangement was Shakespeare’s intention. For one, anchoring hooks would have had to be pre-set into the floor and the ‘monument.’ Secondly, too much time must be taken for the actors to set up the rigging, then secure Antony’s body to it, and after he is hoisted up, free him from the ropes or chains, and then set him down on the upper platform floor. During this prolonged action the text must be halted which almost always shatters the continuity of the performance.

17 Beckerman, Bernard, Shakespeare at the Globe, Macmillan, New York, p. 230.

18 Gurr, Andrew, The Shakespearean Stage, 1514-1642, Cambridge Univ, Press, 1980, p. 136.

19 Op. cit. p. 64.

20 Op. cit. p. 54.

21 Such an arrangement is depicted in Hodges. Op. cit. p. 59.

22 It is questionable whether Juliet appears ‘above’ in this most famous of balcony scenes. In none of the Quartos or First Folio is she so directed. The Arden editor states: “According to Q Juliet appears at a window in the tiring- house façade, not a balcony.” That she appears ‘above’ was introduced by Cappell. Only at `1.141. in the Second Folio is there a direction ‘Enter Juliet above’ which has the appearance of an after-thought.

23 Granville-Barker finds Juliet’s descent a ‘clumsy device.’ On the contrary, it has great theatricality and delineates the fluidity of Shakespeare’s stage as well as providing insight into Elizabethan productional conventions.

24 Beckerman, p. 100: “…in developing an image of the Globe, we cannot rely on the Swan drawing.”

25 Leacroft, Richard, The Development of the English Playhouse, London and New York, 1973, p. 41. “It is, however, highly likely that the relationship of the audience to both stage and tiring-house had not remained that illustrated by de Witt and indeed it is to solve these very problems that the pattern of the theatre may well have changed by the time the second Globe and similar theatres were built, so that with the majority of the audience occupying positions from which they could view the tiring-house wall, the use structural galleries in this position would have been a practical proposition.”

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