Henry IV: Falstaff & The Boy Who Would Be King (Shakespeare By The Sea’s 2024 Production) Theatre Review

Every summer, Shakespeare By The Sea takes two of Shakespeare’s works on the road, performing them at various parks all over Los Angeles and Orange County. The company’s current stop is Garfield Park in South Pasadena, where last night the group performed a special combination of both parts of King Henry The Fourth, adapted and directed by Stephanie Coltrin, who last year gave us that extraordinary production of Hamlet. The two parts of King Henry The Fourth are not produced as often as they deserve to be. The First Part Of King Henry The Fourth is one of the funniest of Shakespeare’s plays, mainly because of the character of Falstaff, and the two parts done together create a moving experience, for the audience gets a chance to see the entire arc of the relationship of Prince Hal and the rotund knight, who acts as a sort of father figure for him, as well as the arc of Hal’s relationship with his actual father. This production features some outstanding performances, including those by Cylan Brown, who is perfect as Falstaff, Jane Macfie, who does a remarkable job as Henry IV, Jonathan Fisher, who is a delight as Hotspur, and Trevor Guyton, who is wonderful as Prince Hal.

The stage has a few different levels, and the area in front of the stage is reserved for the action as well, adding yet another level, and the company makes great use of it from the performance’s opening moments, as Falstaff and his companions enter. Interestingly, as they enter, they sing Feste’s song from the end of Twelfth Night, all of them joining in on the line “For the rain it raineth every day.” Falstaff takes center stage, the others naturally gathering around him. It’s an interesting way of beginning the play, and as they quiet down on the lower levels, Henry IV enters and takes center stage above them, and we hear lines from Richard The Second that clearly still haunt him, including “God save the King! Will no man say ‘amen’?” and “tell sad stories of the death of kings.” It is a striking opening, and what follows is actually a scene from Act IV of The Second Part Of King Henry The Fourth, in which the king is assured that his son Prince Hal is but studying his companions and when the time is right will cast off his followers. We then go to the second scene of The First Part Of King Henry The Fourth, with Prince Hal waking and then waking the snoring Falstaff. There is a nice moment when Mistress Quickly (Megan Ruble) puts out her hand for payment, and Falstaff gently pushes her open hand toward Hal. This production’s Mistress Quickly is younger than usual, but also wise, and she is immediately likeable. When Falstaff says “I must give over this life,” he delivers the line with a sincere tone, which is interesting and gives us a brief glimpse of his future.

When Hotspur and the others enter to speak with Henry IV, Hotspur sits while everyone else remains standing, a choice that sets him apart. Is his aim to show disrespect or just to keep his cool? He then rises on his first line, “My liege, I did deny no prisoners.” Jonathan Fisher is excellent here, and after Henry IV exits and Hotspur feels freer to rant, he is even more fun to watch. It’s impossible to dislike him as he goes on about teaching a starling to say nothing but “Mortimer” to torment the king. And speaking of characters that would be impossible to dislike, the action then returns to Falstaff and company. And though Falstaff is their leader, the others still have fun at his expense. Early in the scene, when he calls out to Poins (Peter Green), Bardolph (Caleb Fietsam) and Peto (Melissa Ortiz), each responds with a little noise from his hiding spot, a humorous bit of business that conveys a sense of joviality among the group. The robbery of the travelers is done quickly and is funny, as you’d expect. When the group next enters, they playfully engage with an audience member in the front, urging him to drink with them and cheering him when he obliges. Falstaff is such a delightful storyteller, weaving a great tale of how he fought off a large group of thieves. And it seems no one takes as much delight in his story as does Prince Hal himself, and we feel that this is the very reason why Poins and Prince Hal played the trick on him in the first place. Falstaff’s reaction when he learns the truth is wonderful. Trevor Guyton is also excellent in this scene. When Falstaff asks him if he’s not afraid to have Hotspur and Glendower as enemies, Hal’s pause before answering “Not a whit” shows that he knows just how serious the situation is. We can see his thoughts before he answers, for within that pause there is a moment where Prince Hal considers answering honestly and thus perhaps putting an end to their good fun, and decides against it. In that pause, we see that these companions are not as close to him as they might believe. And in that pause we catch an image of the future. It’s a fantastic moment. There is another wonderful moment when Falstaff, acting as Henry IV, with a cushion as a crown, begins to describe himself in somewhat glowing terms. When he finally says “his name is Falstaff,” the others all shout out “Falstaff” with him, playfully joining the game while also poking fun at him. Prince Hal allows himself another meaningful pause before delivering the portentous line, “I do, I will.”

As you might expect from an adaptation that contains two plays, there is a bit of reordering of scenes and moments. For example, Henry IV’s “How many thousand of my poorest subjects” speech from the third act of Henry IV Part 2 occurs just before Act II Scene iv of Henry IV Part 1. During that speech, Henry IV removes his crown, and then puts it on again just before that speech’s great final line, “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” Where Jane Macfie especially shines as Henry IV are the scenes between the king and Prince Hal, the father-and-son scenes. The audience truly feels for him in those moments, particularly in the scene where Henry IV expresses concern that Hal is not following the example set by him. It is not anger, but concern for his son when it is his time to ascend the throne, that drives his speech, and that makes all the difference. We see a father there, not a king. And we see the understanding in Hal’s expression. That scene is particularly moving in this production. As Hal’s relationship with his father grows stronger, that with Falstaff weakens. And the line that stands out as being Falstaff’s undoing is his “Dost thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father?” It is especially striking coming so soon after the conversation between Hal and Henry IV, when Hal is thinking seriously about casting aside his youthful indiscretions. We see Prince Hal’s changing attitude again in his reaction to Poins’ “I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.” His expression shows understanding, and some determination. Peter Green is also excellent in this scene as Poins, and is particularly touching when saying, “those two things I confess I cannot help.” For a production that packs two plays into two hours, it does not in any way sacrifice the human relationships contained within them, and somehow manages to heighten them.

The main relationships in this production, as mentioned, are the two father-and-son relationships that Hal experiences, but there is another relationship that stands out, and that is between Hotspur and his wife Kate (Savannah Moffat). It is from Kate that we get a better idea of Hotspur’s character. She brings out a different side of him, and we witness true affection and companionship. Their scenes together are excellent, and it is through Kate’s eyes that we come to like Hotspur more. Another moment when we can’t help but love Hotspur is when he replies to the ridiculous bragging of Glendowar, who has just claimed he can call spirits. Hotspur says, “Why so can I, or so can any man/But will they come when you do call for them?” It is then that it occurs to us that were the circumstances different, Hotspur and Prince Hal could have been great friends. This production has Kate present in the aftermath of the battle and Hotspur’s death, allowing for a touching moment when Prince Hal hands her Hotspur’s handkerchief, showing the respect he had for Hotspur and the compassion he has for her.

When Prince Hal looks out at the audience and asks Falstaff about the identity of the people he sees, Falstaff tells them they are his men. Hal describes them (and so us) as “pitiful rascals.” It is a funny moment, but also true, for we do feel ourselves to be aligned with Falstaff, to be his men. And so at the end when Hal, now crowned Henry V, rebukes Falstaff, our hearts go out to the knight. His ache is ours. We in the audience end up feeling strongly for both of Hal’s father figures. There is a great moment when the speech of Worcester (DeMarcus Brooks) angers Henry IV, who puts his hand on his sword as if to draw it. Prince Hal goes to his father’s side to calm him, to keep him from acting rashly. We see the changing relationship clearly in that moment. At the end of that scene, Prince Hal and Falstaff embrace, and by Hal’s expression we fear it might be their last such embrace. There is another touching moment when Prince Hal believes Falstaff to be dead. It is interesting that Shakespeare also provides a scene when Hal believes his father to be dead. In that speech, several lines are cut, so that “My gracious lord! my father!” directly follows “majesty!” and thus reminds us of Hamlet’s words to the Ghost of his own father when trying to conjure a response: “I’ll call thee Hamlet/King, father.” It’s also interesting because these two scenes give Hal a chance to see how his life might be without his two father figures. Henry IV takes back his crown on “Up, vanity!” So then on Prince Hal’s “There is your crown,” he points to it. Jane Macfie is phenomenal in this scene. The look Henry IV gives Prince Hal as Hal helps him away is so tender that it is nearly heartbreaking.

The final scene to feature Mistress Quickly, Falstaff and the others begins as did the opening scene, with them singing. While the feeling among those characters might be the same as it was then, it has a different feel for those of us in the audience, who sense what is coming. Falstaff is so joyful and excited in this scene that the audience might wish to leave right then and not witness his subsequent decline. For we have come to love Falstaff as much as Falstaff has come to love Hal. This is a fantastic production, driven by marvelous performances.

This production of Henry IV: Falstaff & The Boy Who Would Be King runs through August 3rd. There is one twenty-minute intermission, coming at the end of Act III scene iii of The First Part Of King Henry The Fourth. Tonight at the same park in South Pasadena, Shakespeare By The Sea will be performing Cardenio; Or Double Falsehood, a rarity and a special treat.

The Substance Of Fire (The Ruskin Group Theatre’s 2024 Production) Theatre Review

When you believe your parent is making a mistake and perhaps losing control, when should you step in? It’s never an easy decision, and for the children of Isaac Geldhart, it is made even more difficult by the circumstances of his childhood which have more or less defined his life and continue to do so. How can you argue about priorities and values with a survivor of the Holocaust? Jon Robin Baitz’s play The Substance Of Fire is a compelling drama of family dynamics and the changing values of a world that perhaps never made sense to begin with. The excellent new production of the play at The Ruskin Group Theatre in Santa Monica stars Rob Morrow as Isaac Geldhart and Marcia Cross as Marge Hackett, a social worker who is to help determine Isaac’s competency.

The play begins in a conference room at the New York publishing firm owned and run by Isaac. It is 1987. The set includes an outline of the skyline as part of the back wall, a nice touch, and the sounds of the city outside are heard until the first lines of dialogue, putting in mind the hustle of the city. As the play opens, Sarah Geldhart (Fiona Dorn) and Martin Geldhart (Barret T. Lewis), two of Isaac’s three children, are discussing the situation at the publishing house. And they are clearly not close. Sarah is seated at the conference table, while Martin remains standing for a while, his backpack still on his shoulder, as if he might leave at any moment, indicating he is not comfortable there, even with just his sister. At one point, she reaches out, inviting him to dinner, but he tells her he can’t make it. Before Isaac even enters, the audience gets a sense of the troubling dynamic of this family. And when he does enter, it is like a strong force, and he is followed immediately by the third son, Aaron (Emmitt Butler), and the two seem to be in the middle of an argument, one that we guess to be ongoing. The question is whether to potentially save the company financially by publishing a novel of dubious literary quality, a novel that Aaron has brought to the firm, and which both Martin and Sarah like. Isaac is not willing to entertain the idea, not willing to risk the reputation of the company. We in the audience can’t help but love Isaac’s passion for reading and for books, even as we suspect he might be wrong about refusing to publish the novel in question. Instead, he plans on publishing a six-volume work on Nazi medical experiments. Aaron tells him he doesn’t understand his father’s Nazi obsession.

Though we sense the three siblings are not particularly close, we do learn that they often speak on the phone, and the subject of these conversations is their common worry about their father. There is a nice stage picture at one point, with Martin at one end of the room, Aaron at the other, and Sarah and Isaac seated at the table in the middle. But even Sarah will turn against her father before the end of the scene. The play is, in part, about what we decide to prioritize and where we make our stands. What is wonderful is that at various times we in the audience find ourselves disagreeing with each of the characters. There isn’t a villain here, and there isn’t an easy solution to things, though you might also find yourself wishing to offer one. (The one that occurred to me was to create a different imprint under the publishing company for novels that might not strike Isaac as serious enough to fit his company’s regular brand.) Each of the actors does such a good job that we find ourselves siding with the different characters in turn, and hoping for a positive outcome, even as we see them heading toward destruction.

The play is also about turning down dinner invitations. In addition to Sarah’s invitation to Martin, Martin asks Isaac when they last had dinner together. And there is a touching moment between Sarah and Aaron, when Aaron asks her to dinner and she says she can’t (though she had earlier invited Martin). The first act ends with Martin again inviting his father to dinner, and Isaac telling him it’s not possible. We get the feeling that if all dinner invitations would be accepted, perhaps everything could be resolved. After all, these dinner invitations are the characters’ way of reaching out, trying to connect to each other, and they are thwarted at each opportunity. In the second act, which takes place in Isaac’s living room, Isaac invites Marge to dinner, an invitation that is at first also turned down. In the second act, we learn that there might be something else within Isaac that possibly leads him to make his decisions. Marge is there to start the process of determining whether Isaac is competent. Is he in his right mind? Three and a half years have passed, not a terribly long time, but long enough to see a change. He admits to getting confused. Is it simply aging? How much of his present is still a product of his childhood during the Holocaust? Earlier, was he simply being cruel to his children, or were those hints of some mental decline? It is easier to accept if it’s the latter, for we like the character. Isaac repeatedly confuses Marge with a person who might want to purchase his literary collection, which includes a postcard created by Adolf Hitler. And how much is his current mental state the result of losing the company, of believing he has been betrayed by his children?

These questions and ideas keep the audience engaged, but it is mainly the performances that do that. I wonder if the play would be so compelling with a lesser cast. All five actors deliver strong performances, and Rob Morrow and Marcia Cross are especially captivating, giving nuanced performances that draw us further in. What a pleasure it is to see actors of this caliber in such an intimate space. When Isaac asks Marge if her children think she’s crazy, her honest and matter-of-fact answer of “Yes” is delightful. It’s also hilarious. That is something you might not expect because of the work’s subjects and themes, but this is actually a funny play. The audience last night was laughing aloud often. And much of the humor comes in the interactions between Isaac and Marge in the play’s second half. When she finally begins to ask him the questions on her paper, he finds the first one to be ridiculous and says, “Next.” It is a completely delightful moment, and we find ourselves relating to him all the more. Earlier in the play one of his sons accused him of having lost his sense of humor, but in this scene we see that he has managed to retain it. The play is both funny and heartbreaking at different moments, sometimes in the same moment. Isaac at one point says, “There was a time when people used to revel in words,” and we can’t help but feel for him, because what he has lost we feel we’ve all lost. While there are some issues that are brought up in the first half that are left unresolved in the second, there is not the sense that we’re missing something. It is like we are seeing two pieces of this man’s life. But when Marge does agree to have dinner at some future date, we feel that things are going to be okay. And the play leaves us with a final incredibly touching moment with Isaac and Martin.

This production of The Substance Of Fire was directed by Mike Reilly, with scenic design by Ryan Wilson, lighting and sound design by Edward Salas, and costume design by Michael Mullen. The play runs through September 1, 2024, with performances every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. There is one intermission. The Ruskin Group Theatre is located at 3000 Airport Avenue, in Santa Monica, California.

Shakespeare Reference in Parlor Games

The Shakespeare reference in Parlor Games isn’t in the text, but in an illustration. It comes on the pages detailing the game Clumps II: Botticelli, which is a variation of Twenty Questions where the person chooses “a notable historical personage” (p. 47). The pages contain illustrations of examples, including one of William Shakespeare. The book was written by Paul Barnett, and the illustrations were done by Ivan Hissey.

Parlor Games was published in 1992, through Anness Publishing Limited, and is a Bulfinch Press Book. The copy I read was the First United States Edition.

Shakespeare Study: Revisiting A Few Plays And Reading One For The First Time

My personal Shakespeare study continues. The last several weeks I read different editions of certain plays.

King Lear by William Shakespeare – I think I revisit this play more often than any of the others. This time I read the Wordsworth Classics edition, edited by Cedric Watts. In the introduction, Watts writes, regarding Lear’s men: “Are Lear’s followers riotous, as Goneril says, or well-behaved, as Lear says? But this leads immediately to the other question, where is this huge retinue? In Act I, scene 4, Lear is attended, according to the earliest text (1607-8), only by some servants; whereas, according to the 1623 text, he is there attended by an unspecified number of knights. Certainly, thereafter, we see no large body of armed supporters” (pages 9-10). Later in the introduction, Watts writes: “In its moral concerns, King Lear reminds us of the human capacity for hatred, cruelty and injustice; it also reminds us of the human capacity for love and forgiveness. There are parts of the work which may gratify the desire for moral justice (Cornwall, Edmund, Regan and Goneril perish); but there are also parts which mock that desire (Gloucester and Lear suffer appallingly, and Cordelia is killed)” (pages 18-19). At the end of the introduction, Watts writes, “In short, the power of King Lear may lie less in any answers it suggests than in its dramatic questioning of nature, morality, reason and order, and in its eloquent voicing of a gamut of human emotions” (p. 20). The text of this edition is a conflation of the Q1 and Folio versions of the play. Watts writes, “I have combined, as I think best, material from both the Quarto and the Folio, so that no important speeches are absent” (p. 29). All notes on the text are presented after the play. A note on Kent’s “turn their halcyon beaks” line in Act II scene 2 reads: “The halcyon (kingfisher), when dead and suspended, was supposed to turn its beak in accordance with changes in the wind. Kent says that sycophantic servants likewise reflect and support every changeable mood of their masters” (p. 137). A note on the Fool’s line “And I’ll go to bed at noon” reads: “proverbial for ‘I’ll play the fool, too’. This line is in F1, not Q1” (p. 142). This book was first published in 1994 by Wordsworth Editions Limited. The copy I read contains newly-edited text, new introduction and notes, published in 2004.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare – I recently picked up The RSC Shakespeare edition of Hamlet, edited by Jonathan Bate and Eric Rasmussen. This volume uses the Folio Hamlet as its base, so some famous speeches are not included in the text, but rather in a special section after the text. In the introduction, Bate and Rasmussen write: “there can be little doubt that Shakespeare’s innovation in Hamlet was to take the figure of the revenger from the old play and turn him into an intellectual, so making revenge into a moral dilemma as opposed to a practical task to be carried out through effective plotting. Hamlet’s problem is that his intelligence makes him see both sides of every question, whereas in the drama of revenge there is no place for debate and half measure” (p. xii). Regarding the exchange of swords between Hamlet and Laertes, they write: “But Hamlet and Laertes would originally have dueled with ‘rapier and dagger,’ the commonest weapons for such an encounter, as illustrated in Vincentio Saviolo’s treatise on fencing skills, The Art of Practice (1595). The grip used for the rapier meant that it was very hard to remove it from the opponent’s hand save by an advanced maneuver known as the ‘left-hand seizure.’ Hamlet would have dropped his dagger to the ground and grabbed the hilt of Laertes’ rapier with his left hand, twisting it out of his grip. Laertes would have responded with the same action, resulting in the switch of weapons. The move, which is illustrated in continental fencing handbooks of the period, is so skillful that Hamlet’s action must have been purposeful. He would not initially have seen that Laertes’ rapier was ‘unbated’ (not blunted in the way that was customary to prevent the injury of gentlemen participating in sporting fights), but on receiving a ‘hit’ his skin would have been pierced by the point. Realizing that Laertes is in earnest, not play, he instantly responds with the maneuver that makes the switch. Now he is in deadly earnest himself” (pages xv-xvi). The text includes footnotes. Regarding Marcellus’ line “Thou art a scholar,” the note reads: “i.e. one knowledgeable enough to know how to address a ghost; a ghost was thought to be unable to speak until spoken to” (p. 5). In this volume, Hamlet says “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,/Than are dreamt of in our philosophy” (p. 33) rather than “your philosophy,” something I don’t recall from any other edition. Is it simply a typo? The volume includes a scene-by-scene description, and in that section, regarding Claudius’ speech in Act I Scene ii, the authors write, “The speech is formal and ceremonious, as Claudius emphasizes his new role as king, but it seems awkward as well: it is difficult to reconcile his apparent grief with his happiness at his marriage” (p. 150). In addition, the volume contains a history of performances, both on stage and film, before getting into the RSC performances. The authors write: “Obviously, Hamlet’s sense of intense grief plays a large part in the way he perceives the world. Grief can often bring with it an exaggeration of the senses, a cruel self-awareness and feelings of isolation” (p. 187). A little later in that section they write: “Hamlet’s dilemma after seeing the Ghost lies in the fact that is too aware of the possible consequences of his actions. The intelligence of his imagination is such that he knows that the Ghost’s request for revenge has two possible outcomes for him: death or madness. As hot-blooded avenger he will provoke the punishment of the state, whereas not to act – to withdraw – would only compound and multiply his already unbearable grief and frustration to a state of madness. Both of these options are against his nature and his sensibility. However, Shakespeare demonstrates their tragic consequences in the reactions of Polonius’ children, Laertes and Ophelia” (p. 190). The book contains interviews with three directors. Regarding the question of why Claudius doesn’t just kill Hamlet, John Caird says: “The answer is that he kills his brother so that he can become him. It’s an attempted act of transformation. That’s why he tries genuinely, desperately, to persuade Hamlet that everything is the same as it used to be. His father may be dead but he has a new father now. It’s Hamlet’s incapacity to accept this new status quo that throws Claudius into confusion and ultimately forces him into the position of having Hamlet killed” (p. 198). Regarding why Gertrude doesn’t see the Ghost, John Caird says: “But he isn’t real to Gertrude, or doesn’t appear to her. This is psychologically apt. She can’t ‘see’ her husband any longer. If she could still see him she wouldn’t have married his brother. It is Hamlet’s perception of his father that brings her to her senses. He reminds her of her former happiness and her love for her husband and son. This is the beginning of Gertrude’s madness. She never recovers from this scene” (p. 207). This book was published in 2008.

Arden Of Faversham – This is a play I had not read before. At the end of the RSC edition of Hamlet, there is a list of Shakespeare’s works in chronological order, and the first item on the list reads: “1589-91 ? Arden of Faversham (possible part authorship).” So I took out a copy of the play from the library. It’s the New Mermaids edition, edited by Martin White. The First Quarto of this play was published in 1592, without an author listed. Its main source is Holinshed’s Chronicles, also a source Shakespeare used for several of his plays. The introduction details some of the ways the play differs from the source. Regarding authorship, Martin White writes, “It is not surprising, however, considering the literary qualities and theatrical skill of the play, that the claims have centred on the three most notable dramatists known to have been working in London in the late 1580s and early 1590s – Marlowe, Kyd, and Shakespeare” (p. xv). White continues, “The most persistent and intriguing claim is, of course, that made for Shakespeare” (p. xv). And he writes: “The external evidence to support an ascription to Shakespeare (or anyone else) is non-existent. The play was published in three quarto editions without having a name put to it, Hemminges and Condell did not include it in the First Folio (1623), and it was not among the apocryphal plays added, with Pericles, to the second issue of the Third Folio in 1664” (pages xv-xvi). He adds, “Kenneth Muir, for example, considers Arden the ‘best of the apocryphal plays’, but still argues that it ‘does not resemble in style or theme any of Shakespeare’s acknowledged plays’” (p. xvi). White then writes, “Other critics, however, have found strong similarities between Arden and, particularly, the Henry VI trilogy and Richard III in their style, language and imagery, and in their presentation of a ruthless and amoral world” (p. xvi). In a note on the character of Alice, White mentions that Symonds “describes her as ‘the bourgeois Clytemnestra, the Lady Macbeth of county connections’” (p. xviii). Notes on the text are at the bottom of each page, and these notes include some similarities with Shakespeare’s word usage, such as: “As Wine notes, Q1’s ‘marrow-prying’ is striking metaphorically and may be the correct reading. A similar expression is used in Soliman and Perseda, V.ii, 14 (‘Such is the force of marrow burning love’) and in Venus and Adonis, 1. 741 (‘the marrow-eating sickness’), though in both those cases it clearly refers to the contemporary belief that the marrow of the bones is a sexual provocative. Q2’s reading compares with The Taming of the Shrew, III.ii, 142 (‘The narrow-prying father, Minola’)” (p. 8). The lines “I, that should take the weapon in my hand/And buckler thee from ill-intending foes,/Do lead thee with a wicked, fraudful smile,/As unsuspected to the slaughterhouse” (p. 41) remind me a bit of some of Macbeth’s speech about how he should protect Duncan, not murder him. And speaking of Macbeth, a note reads: “boltered ed. (bolstred Qq) in tangled knots, or matted with congealed blood (cf. Macbeth, IV.i, 123, ‘blood-bolter’d Banquo’” (p. 45). Another note reads: “white-livered cowardly. Cf. ‘the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice’ (2 Henry IV, IV.iii, 103-4)” (p. 48). White notes another similarity to Macbeth, when Alice and Susan talk about washing away the blood (p. 92). I noticed that this volume contains a mistake. It has Arden say, “See, Susan, where thy quondam master lies;/Sweet Arden, smeared in blood and filthy gore” (p. 95). At this point, Arden is dead, and unlikely to talk about his own bloody corpse. I believe it should be Alice who speaks those lines. The book’s appendix includes the passage from Holinshed’s Chronicles regarding Arden. This book was published in 1982.

The Comedy Of Errors by William Shakespeare – This time I read The New Cambridge Shakespeare edition, edited by T.S. Dorsch. The book’s introduction begins with an attempt at dating the play, including references to historical events and similarities between this play and The Taming Of The Shrew, and also to Arden Of Feversham (which is apparently the original spelling, not Faversham). Then there are details of the main source of the play, along with other sources, and the changes Shakespeare made to the story. Dorsch writes, “The tale of Appollonius of Tyre narrated by Gower in Book VIII of Confessio Amantis seems to be the main source for the romantic side of the play, Egeon’s adventures and his discovery of his long-lost wife” (p. 10). The introduction then gets into the characters: “The Dromios are not, as is often said, as like as two peas. Dromio of Ephesus is the more sprightly, and the more in command of all the tricks of language that make for the comic and the witty” (p. 14). Regarding the presentation of the play, Dorsch writes, “The play has often invited musical adaptation, but in the changing poise and pace of its verbal art it has a music of its own” (p. 20). Notes on the text are provided at the bottom of each page. In the play’s first scene, there is a note on the line “As could not be distinguished but by names” which reads: “To help to bring about the errors of the play, the two pairs of identical twins are given identical names…However, on their first notice in entry SDs Antipholus of Syracuse is named ‘Antipholus Erotes’ (? the wandering twin, from Latin errare; ? confusion with the Courtesan’s name, Erotium, in Plautus); Antipholus of Ephesus is ‘Antipholus Sereptus’ (surreptus = snatched away)” (p. 43). A later note about the discrepancies of time, specifically about the Abbess’ line “Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail,” reads: “Theobald added the eighteen years of I.I.125 to the ‘seven years’ of 320 above, and emended to ‘Twenty-five.’ At I.I.132 Egeon says that he has been searching for ‘five summers’. The audience would hardly notice this further inconsistency” (p. 109). After the text of the play, this edition includes notes on the performance of 1594 and biblical passages relevant to the play. This book was published in 1988. The copy I read is from the 1994 reprint.

Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare – This book is a volume in the Oxford School Shakespeare series, edited by Roma Gill and intended for students. It contains a brief introduction, in which we are told about the character Julius Caesar: “The character who gives the play its title appears in only three scenes, and speaks very few lines – none of them particularly memorable” (p. v). Roma Gill adds: “In the play Caesar is murdered at the beginning of Act 3, and you may first think it odd that the hero should vanish from the stage before the play is half-finished. But although the man is dead, his spirit lives on. It is present in the minds of those who murdered him, and of those who seek to avenge the murder. We are so conscious of this unseen presence that it is no surprise when the spirit materializes, and the ghost of Caesar appears to Brutus before the battle at Philippi. Brutus, too, is unperturbed, and accepts with equanimity the promise of another encounter” (p. vi). This volume includes a scene-by-scene synopsis, and then longer commentary on each scene. Regarding the first scene, Gill writes: “The Roman citizens are very important in Julius Caesar, and provide an essential background to the action. They are influenced by emotion, not by reason, and their affections are not to be trusted: in the past they cheered for Pompey; now they are welcoming Caesar, the man who has defeated Pompey; and soon we shall hear them applauding the men who have murdered Caesar” (p. xii). Regarding the second scene of the third act, Gill writes: “Brutus speaks in prose, trying to present a reasoned argument to justify the murder. The citizens are fairly satisfied with this, but it is ironic that they now wish to elevate Brutus into Caesar’s place: they have not appreciated the principle behind Brutus’s act. Antony’s speech is in verse; there is no attempt to produce logical argument, for the oration – with its repetitions, rhetorical questions, ironies, and open display of emotion – is aimed at the hearts, and not the heads of the people. We see the citizens in the process of changing their minds every time that Antony makes a well-calculated pause in his speech” (p. xvi-xvii). Regarding the third scene of the fourth act, Gill writes: “Two passages in this scene duplicate the information about Portia’s death. Shakespeare probably wrote first the version given in lines 181-95, and then – perhaps thinking that he had made Brutus too much a Stoic – added the lines that now appear as 147-57; and forgot to cross out the first draft” (p. xvii). As for the text, this volume uses the New Cambridge Shakespeare text of 1998. Notes appear on the left side of each page. A note about the feast of Lupercal reads: “A feast day in honour of the fertility god Lupercus was held on 15 February. Shakespeare has accelerated the action of the play by merging the triumphant return from Munda (October 45 BC) into the events of spring 42 BC” (p. 4). The note on Antony’s “Cry havoc” reads, “Only a king could give this order, which was the signal for mass slaughter and plunder” (p. 54). Following the text of the play, there is a section of passages from Sir Thomas North’s translation of Plutarch’s Lives of the Greeks and Romans. The book also includes study questions, information on England at the time of Shakespeare’s writing, and some biographical information on Shakespeare. In that last section, Gill writes: “Finally, before he retired from the theatre, he wrote another set of comedies. These all have the same theme: they tell of happiness which is lost, and then found again” (p. 127). This book was first published in 1998, and then revised in 2001 and 2006. My copy is from the 2010 edition.