Collaborative theatrics

A lot of comment on Twitter about Toby and Kenton wanting to re-write the ‘egg laying’ scene in Mother Goose and, almost inevitably, someone (@foggyknitter) suggested Shakespeare would have had similar problems.

This is far more accurate than she or he may have guessed, as the Elizabethan theatre was full of improv, collaboration, stock characters and logistical issues which combine to mean that there was probably NEVER one definitive version of the text.

Plays were produced quickly with small casts playing multiple parts and actors would largely stick to similar characters- clowns such as Will Kempe, lead actors such as Richard Burbage, boys who played leading women, perhaps specialists in older females such as the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet, and so on. The main company were ‘sharers’ who had a commercial interest in the success of the plays, which would only attract revenue when performed- there was no money to be made from lengthy rehearsal time. It is also tempting to imagine the egos which might accompany perceptions by well-known actors of themselves as an ‘audience draw’ and the concomitant rearranging of scenes or expansion of parts which might accompany such.

The main logistical impediment to a cohesive and consistent script would be the lack of full/’fair’ copies. Paper would have been scarce and actors would have received only their cues and parts. Romeo’s script for the balcony scene would look something like this (starting at line 39, you can see the full script of Act 2 scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet here).

R (aside): Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

J:… Take all myself.

R: I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptis’d; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

J:… stumblest on my council?

R: By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: my name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.

J:… and a Montague?

R: Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

(Continues…)

You can see immediately that this requires a completely alternative skill set from that which an actor would possess today. The actor playing Romeo needs to have a different set of listening skills. He may also need a better- or certainly other type of- memory, as he cannot associate his own following lines with what comes before. Romeo doesn’t know how long Juliet’s previous lines are; they could be having back-and-forth repartee or he could be listening to her unfold for two minutes.

We know the acting would have been different in the Elizabethan theatre but this shows how much. How can the actor begin to look into motivations when he doesn’t know why his line is what it is? It is important to understand that plays were far more like production lines, part of entertainment on an evening out that would have also included a trip to bear-baiting or a brothel, and far less a sophisticated and thought-provoking evening that we might think of when we think of a trip to a play today. It may have been quality entertainment, but not of the same quality as we would expect to see in today’s Globe or at the RSC. (Actually it would be interesting to try to put on a play using this technique, if you could find actors who would do it, but I bet the result wouldn’t be viewed favourably.)

We also can’t discount the fact that many of Shakespeare’s plays were based on stories the audience (and cast) would have known already. This might have meant that the narrative of the play itself was more important than the overall arc- if the ending isn’t a surprise, does it matter more, or less, how you get there? This may explain some of the comedic inserts- such as the Porter- which jar somewhat in tragedies when performed today- a bit of (unexpected) light relief for audiences who already know that the ending will feature blood and death.

It may well also have been the some parts of plays were relatively unscripted, particularly soliloquies. It is tempting to imagine Will Kempe being told ‘you have a dog, his name’s Crabbe, he’s a misery, you have to leave your family and he doesn’t care, now get on with it for three minutes’, and what follows is Act 2, scene 3 of Two Gentlemen of Verona.
These factors combine to mean that, at the time the plays were first written down for publication, the availability of a fair copy was crucial, but relatively unlikely. The fair copy, even if available, might not have reflected what was actually performed and, without it, there would be a dependence on memory which could so easily be incorrect. There is an often-quoted theory/idea that the original version of arguably the most famous line in all theatre was ‘To be or not to be/ ay, there’s the rub’. If we assume this is true, we can consider the many ways which this discrepancy between what we know now and what was originally written could have occurred: Burbage, playing Hamlet, could have altered the line and the fair copy changed accordingly; someone could have remembered the staged version incorrectly, and so on. It is also possible that the line we now know was never meant to be, that the ‘ay, there’s the rub’ was the line performed and preferred and that ‘that is the question’ was the original, judged inferior at the time but used later in error by whoever wrote the script for publication- or taken from an unedited fair copy. 

It is arguable that one of the reasons why Shakespeare’s works have been so extensively adapted is because of the lack of one authentic text. Most modern versions will take their text from more than one source, if more than one exists; part of the editor’s job will be to examine differences between the Folio and Quarto and choose a preference. This means different versions of the plays exist to this day- although they are becoming more similar over time there will still be variations, particularly in punctuation and line breaks. These are less relevant than the difference between ‘ay, there’s the rub’ and ‘that is the question’, particularly in performance, but reveal a legacy of difference. It is also easier to cut lines which make little sense if you are aware that this might be because they are ‘wrong’- and always have been.

The Elizabethan theatre was an industry of potential financial fragility. There was plenty of competition for audience attention and the Lord Chamberlain could close you down at any time. Plays had to be produced quickly and to maximise success. It is easy to see how the company as a whole would be contributing, arguing over efficacy of parts and storylines or even making lines up on the hoof to fill time or keep audiences entertained during costume changes. It is now acknowledged that Shakespeare did not write many of the plays alone. Recently, both Christopher Marlowe and Thomas Middleton have been officially named as co-authors of some of the works. It is suspected many of the plays were written by more than one person, although many of the collaborators are as yet unidentified.

Perhaps Lynda would be comforted to learn that Shakespeare also faced influence from his cast and theatrical community. Perhaps not, considering he would have known and no doubt expected it. He may even have welcomed it. It seems likely that, as in other years’ pantos, Mother Goose will be met with last-minute crises to be averted, and plenty of supportive Robert to calm her troubled sniffs and reassure her on the marvellous job she is doing as Ambridge’s equivalent to the Bard.