Abandoned scenes: dramaturgy and theatricality

I also initially included some detail about his lodging in Silver Street, but again this was too much in the story telling mode. 

WILL:

 

(calls) yes very good keep going..Quiney … 

Judith’s husband  

“cut all the logs … …the only chopper I would have you  wave about this town..

Margaret Wheeler died birthing his baby. An expensive mess to cover

(shouts) when  the wood is done gather the water..   

(to audience) 

I  leave £300 to Judith and her alone… 

Quiney’s life will not be his own for I know her.. ha ha  

most of the rest goes to Susanna., and her john..

one marries  a profligate with his cock hanging from his breeches and the other a dry puritan..

WILL:

These…

they are fine gloves father  … … 

what were your words?

  “measure men  .. weigh their harm and need … 

We are new kinds that live between dog and master… 

and must at times pull our  little all through crooked ways to make it stretch, …

my crimes  are just weights and measures… for which the lawyers are still building scales …”  … 

When you lost your post as alderman-

 were prosecuted for wool dealing and usery 

illegal dealing and usury … … hundreds of pounds… .. 

your application for a coat of arms failed … 

All jests left.. 

thousands of  pounds of wool and hundreds of pounds… .. lost…to the magistrates 

you only beat our mother once …then  when struck low and lost all pride.. and (shouts )

but I have beat mine not at all…  

Well enough…!

I first walked the oxford road

Londons catch-throat stench 

Of fish guts, iron works, tanners, midden heaps, 

crow blown bodies of tyburn 

filthy lick of shit clogged streets

silver thames, teemed with boats 

the great guildhall, the courtyard around Crumbling st paul’s  

merchants, hirers pickpockets and the publishing houses . 

they were my university.. where an old friend from Stratford published my first poems 

This was the 80’s: 

All swagger: broad doublets, oversized breeches, 

the bloody plays; intrigues 

of Marlowe and Kydd

 

Nashe called it, a sea sucking in all scummy channels of the realm..

Everyone was 20 drunken and fighting for your purse, 

New privateers jarred fresh values with outworn chivalry  

 I emptied all thoughts to commonplace books 

 spies everywhere …. The air compact fear of 

 Catholics,  French, Dutch and 

Spanish, plague  the Irish or of an everyday quarrel that might end in a stabbing. “

People feared of the foreign,

 are easier to rule, 

 

I lodged in Shoreditch: 

spill town of barns, cottages and fields. 

Near hog lane where Kit Marlowe and Thomas Watson would kill William Bradley, over a bill

 All the actors, writers, Criminals and whores lived here mostly together

Greene, Peele and Nashe married  wenches for their dowrys  and ran from them here  to write … 

….. Ben you did this too later … 

WILL:

Aemilia hated it 

flashing your sharp Dark eyes  to  chide for speaking not well of women in my plays 

“do not  like  a viper deface the wombe wherein you were bred.”

Shh Aemilia  …. leave me in peace this was not a time i knew you

I wrote and wrote 

in leafy silver street,

living with the Mountjoys 

protestant Huguenots greatly skilled in crafts 

despite swinging taxes, and dangerous hostility … 

my hosts had lightness 

and Marie Mountjoy was fine fingered and white limbed 

but  I have ever been  drawn to exotic beauty

dusky dark women,,, Helen of troy and Cleopatra …

 tawny… gipsy and riggish.. all women are of another country

I loved you …….

But 

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;

Mad in pursuit and in possession so;

All this the world well knows; yet none knows well

To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. – 

We loved and ruined our 

 Hearts

Your  dark skin in the taper light 

Rested on your back 

writing The Merchant of Venice ..

and your other lover

 my friend .. 

whose name I no longer speak 

poor Anne … 

this was no mechanic meeting of bodies 

or of two young men sharing love not finished for women

these I have had and to some shame  

but we loved with the metre of music

two solitary hearts played in time

she guessed all of my love but we never spoke of it

I met you then Ben

Strange to think your Company should slowly shake me, 

 back to sense 

I needed male rivals on healthier pitches than 

tiring house beds 

and in theatre at least then

I was more potent than ever 

Remember, after your satire the isle of dogs jailed you   

and closed the theatres, almost  for good..

it was I who, 

asked you to you write for us… no one else would touch you

“and I taught you  much about classical writing” 

which I ignored 

“ahh.. poor shagsbeard you were never as deep a print of learning as I” 

True Ben you stand one foot in Greece 

with your head in Rome 

at times poor London gets only your arse.

Ha ha …

We drank hard you felt more cheated by the university wits than I 

Praise for the learned man should be shared with his teacher, 

And William you and I were to ourselves both teacher and pupil 

universities breed whores who make a profession of what they first did love.

I thought the world did that don’t we do that?

Well ben You have an honorary degree now ..

I’m a counterfeit gentleman ….  you an honorary whore 

actors in and writers of our own tragicomic dramas

 

I initially gave more detail; here about apprentice riots and the condition of refugees in London which ends with the Thomas more speech attributed to Shakespare. 

 

 

My landlord’s arm was crook’d 

He been beaten some years before 

by apprentices of London 

that seeing  wretched strangers,

with babies at their backs and their poor luggage,

Plodding tooth ports and costs for transportation,

 sat as kings in their desires, accused refugees of taking jobs 

threatened their lives

this cankered malice made london ugly 

chid down all the majesty of England;

and taught men to be ravenous fishes

feeding on one another

I felt desire to use my pen for without those strangers london would 

Be back to a meaner darker times, 

less goods worse food and closer horizons

Dekker told me that he Chettle; Heywood were mending mundays old 

Thomas more play, I offred to write 

The part decrying , a similar riot against strangers 

would you be pleased

To find a nation of such barbarous temper,

That, breaking out in hideous violence,

Would not afford you an abode on earth,

Whet their detested knives against your throats,

Spurn you like dogs,

what would you think To be thus used? 

this is the strangers case;

And this your mountanish inhumanity.

This section continued to speak of Aemilia, and more of Jonson and of the theatre itself. I eventually rewrote this section and omitted a great deal but the original research is more evident here.

Some abandoned sections from an early draft (26/10/2014)

Here in an obvious Tempest reference. Will has Quiney, his daughter's errant husband chopping logs. This felt too contrived and the early language of the narrative is more colloquial in the style of some of the more roistering Shakespeare biography plays and over-sells the research. The story didn’t return.

This section from the same draft adds some detail to the story of Will’s Father. I liked the idea that Will’s later attempt to gain a coat of arms might have had some emotional resonance with the failure of his own father to do so. I also like the description of the new middling sort but this slowed the flow of the text.  

These next sections were descriptions of London that I liked but in performance would have been too descriptive and slipped into a story telling mode that disengaged with the rest of the text.

I gave Aemelia Lanier greater voice initially using words from her own poetry, again simply cut for reasons of flow.

December chilled the plagues revels 

And we were called to Hampton court 

I as one of James’ new indulgences 

Old saws , Romeo Juliet, henry the 4th

The king freed jails and executed others at wim

 

I had no feet in this new dance 

the King's Men, enemies of puritan rectitude 

arrived in the midst of a theological conference 

James wine most oft in hand was in debate with an assembly of sober puritans 

seeing Augustine wearing his most senseless Flemish fashions

 one vinegar face muttered  “the king now keeps peacocks for his amusement” 

what cocks? said Augustine 

“all I have seen are sparrows  drab birds and  all alike, and they hop furiously rather than soar…

………………..

 

We showed Measure for measure

a new kind of  comedy in a dark world with an elusive ruler

 It was a new kind of play; legal debate, satire 

Justice and tyranny were all confused 

the duke says: 

I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes:

Through it do well, I do not relish well

Their loud applause and Aves vehement;

James said of the prying crowd:

“gods wounds I will pull down my breeches and the crowds shall see my arse..

 

 

 

You Ben, blundered back into jail with Chapman 

For mocking the scots in eastward ho 

remarkable you being half scot yourself 

Which, you announce much more now than before

…………

James is negotiating a treaty with the Spanish and has found the English contingent thin 

We are to costume As British nobles, and give swagger, 

suggesting we each have vast bodies of men and ships at our command…. 

we acted men at court and for a pittance 

and precious gifts went to the meanest 

of the Spanish court 

he accrued great debts,,using England as though it were Christmas.. 

…………

I worked..with with young Middleton on Timon of Athens 

the new writers are after my own style but more modern: Fletcher, Marston, Middleton, 

some have “theories” but Middleton has a bitter wit;

 over ale  he treasonablly mocked one of Ben’s court masques, saying :

Behold the kings dream.. London a new Athens 

its philosopher prince.. the sun king 

a glittering light to cleanse all 

london awake 

and sees itself to be only ruled 

by yellow, glittering, precious gold 

That makes black white, foul fair, 

And knits and breaks religions

 

Timon is a generous but profligate dreaming noble

drawn by parasites he dies penniless and hated,

……………… 

thoughts piecemeal grew inundated 

With jealousies guesses, and imaginings 

Of Anne, of Emilia 

my works teemed with misattributed Jealousy,  undetected innocence , hidden plots

 Othello , measure for measure, lear winter’s tale, Macbeth

 

When clear I saw my mind Ary When clouded the imagined deeds of others

justified my lying  with women of changing beauty and breeding 

and with one or two lads of the theatre,


Ben shewd me his verse wrote on the death of his boy

My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy.

Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay,

Rest in soft peace, and, asked, say, "Here doth lie

Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry,

 

I said I wonder at your honesty 

I only incidentally write of myself .. 

of my dead .. 

poor lost boy 

 

I weave the threads of my sorrows and betrayals.. into my characters 

 hang then upon the broken Bones of my own hurt and offences 

tis what we all do , he says .. 

1606 the gunpowder plot … I heard from my house the screams

Of Everad  Digby hung, drawn and quartered 

 And when The executioner cut out his heart,

 Shouting  “Here is the heart of a traitor” 

I heard Digby call 

 “Thou liest.” 

 

I saw as if from heaven 

Myself hardened to so much death  

Memorising the words:

….I have the heart of a traitor 

……….

 

All were worried about Jame’s new 

union with Scotland 

What did I think… fool to the king I 

Stood at the balancing point of oppositions 

Lear divided a kingdom did not unite it 

As James in uniting also divided  

…….

Once again I equivocate and weigh both scales: 

destruction certainties ,

 James saw celebration of union… 

men are as the time is…. 

James adrift in the land knew much, 

But like but like Lear  

slender knew himself..… 

gave gifts unwisely

and  I was an absent father to my daughters 

growing tired,

lear, king of the end of worlds … 

 

 

……………..

Baumont has died 

John fletcher’s writing companion

It was rare to see them together outside their bankside lodgings 

twixt the brothels and  bear pits

 they shared one best suit of clothes and a wench in the house between them.", … 

one would walk in town leaving  the other to tup lily their girl: at home….. 

this day Beaumont was touching the blackfriars audience as

”too simple to appreciate his satire of outdated romance.. 

 

Fletcher..was  it was satire ? 

thought it genuine  outdated romance 

 

Beaumont put a knife in the wall an inch from johns face

and Fletcher laughed catching my look: “shakestaff he missed why so melancholy” 

 

well, because I had old Shoreditch  my mind

 Marlowe, Kyd, Burbage dear Augustine and the others  

we too had pitted prides and made great reckonings in little rooms

Beamont married to ease his purse 

and struck immobile by disease the same year

could not write 

comedy or tragedy? … 

A play is not life ….. but

life is all play …. And new playwrights will always dispute with old wisdoms and ways..

in disgraceful London rooms 

………..

I wrote Pericles, with George Wilkins.  He owned a tavern of women

 food , wine dice, and tobacco, chambers upstairs for pleasure 

He had been arrested for robbery violence and rape 

Wilkins made money from whores in the north London playhouses 

But business is business pimp, playwright?

 a good writer and an apt for the times 

 

……………….

The kings Danish cousin christian came to court 

carousal sports women, and wine of astonishing plenty, 

embraced at table. 

nobles wallowed in wine and ladies rolled in intoxication. 

A masque of the queen of Sheba was made,  

And the Queen tripped emptying her gifts into his Danish Majesties face , and fell at his feet,

 danced with the Queen of Sheba ; 

but  fell and was carried to an inner chamber and 

laid on a bed which he defiled with wine, cream, jelly, beverage, and cakes, 

The show went forward, 

and the presenters fell backward, or down in wine 

then appeared, in rich dress, Hope, Faith, and Charity: 

Hope drunk could not speak 

Faith staggered out and
Charity looked on as they both spewed in the lower hall. 

Next came Victory, in bright armour, too drunk to make sense and 

Peace furious with her attendants rudely made war with her olive 

branch, about the heads of those who did oppose her com- 

ing. 

 

john Harrington The courtier whispered: 

these pegeantries, bring to my remembrance what passed of this sort in our 

Queens days; of which I was sometime an humble presenter and 

assistant: but I neer did see such lack of good order, discretion, 

and sobriety, as I have now done. I

I will now, in good sooth, declare to you, who will not blab, that the 

gunpowder fright is got out of all our heads, and we are going 

on, hereabouts, as if the devil was contriving every man shoud 

blow up himself, by wild riot, excess, and devastation of time 

and temperance. I do often say (but not 

aloud) that the Danes have again conquered the Britains, for I 

see no man, or woman either, that can now command himself or 

herself.

My Anthony and Cleopatra echoed this  soft sensual 

Egypt and hard warlike Rome melted and merged

As my resolution had in emilias arms  

Anthony’s  Epicurean cooks

Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite. 

almost every character betrays their country, ethics, or a companion.

And are united not in their love but in their attempts to avoid shame

 

And to chase fame 

She shall be buried by her Antony:

No grave upon the earth shall clip in it

A pair so famous.

Shame comes from without 

Guilt from within 

I would appease both

I am not good with city comedies and 

must often work with others to improve my works 

But the rousing speech and mind of the great man,

 I still do well..

I do not understand Ben or fletchers conjecture’s 

about Horace or style

Ovid was my master..all is change  

I learn by the action itself 

If I lived another hundred years 

I’d begin to know

Then tastes and modes 

Then will have 

Metamorphosed a thousand times

No art like all is a bastard changing thing 

 I am an aged shepherd 

Locked from familiar old pasture 

Wishing for the certainty of 

old customs 

I am tired

I know the stranger 

And I love a craftsman

Dramaturgy: 


In editing the work for the stage my editors were clear that unless I kept a through line of emotional involvement they began to lose interest. Kurt Vonnegut’s injunction that anything that doesn’t tell us more about the character or move the story should be omitted was proved many times. Thus many sections that dealt with 'clever ideas' like the section on sonnets or some of the more philosophical actions had to be clipped, and the section of deleted scenes illustrates some developments of the text. 

 

I discovered that to maintain a political or social context the macro and the micro had to be conjoined. For example in order to discuss Shakespeare’s tax avoidance I made his constant shifting homes the reason that he could not get to see his son before he died. This conjoining of evidence from his life in order to mix the personal and the political became a tool that developed with the text.


It comes to a peak at the description of the queen watching Richard II after the Essex rebellion where Shakespeare has been dragged out of hiding to attend. 

 

Other sections were lost, including interesting conjecture about about the publishing of the sonnets and life at court. In-depth descriptions of Elizabethan London based on eye witness accounts had to be omitted from the final script or the dramatic narrative would have given way to material that had more interest only to researchers.


Large sections of interaction with his family also had to go or the play’s back would have broken under the weight of subplots. 


The omitted material or research found its way into numerous references or convergences that were clear to Scholars who could join the dots but didn’t disrupt the emotional through line of the piece. 

Theatricality:


There are a number of plays in the playlist that generate extreme theatrical situations and are characterised by a kind of rambunctious bawdy humour. 

 

I chose to avoid sensational dramatic devices. There are a number of apocryphal sources which create dramatic and comic narratives around Shakespeare like this anecdote, from John Manningham’s 1601 diary, which concerns a performance of the play we now call Richard III. Richard Burbage played the King and caught the attention of a woman in the audience. The lady was so impressed by Burbage’s performance that she invited him to her home that evening — as long as he promised to stay in costume and character. Shakespeare got wind of the assignation and went first to the lady’s residence. Burbage arrived at the appointed time but Shakespeare was already inside, being 'entertained and at his game'. When the lovers were informed that Burbage was at the door, a triumphant Shakespeare sent his colleague a mischievous reply that contained a sharp lesson in English history: "William the Conqueror,” he said, “was before Richard the Third.

 

I did put the 'William the conqueror came first' gag in the play but played it in a consciously clowning style undercut by the reality of his infidelities later, in an attempt to replicate the kind of balance that Shakespeare works with clown scenes undercutting and commenting upon more serious content. 

 

Probably this approach has more to do with modern ideas of masculinity than any projected idea of what constituted an Elizabethan contract of the male, as such a thing is a long way from our understanding.

 

But in working with two feminist-minded editors and with a female director I hoped to adjust the gaze of the piece and alleviate the possibility of this play being focused specifically from a masculine perspective.

 

The principal theatrical device was for Shakespeare to act other characters and also tranform into them, causing a confusion about space and time. This enabled the audience to engage with a number of posibilities regarding which plane of reality was being embodied, allowing more flexibility to offer a series of contrasting aspects of his character.  

This section was not really essential to the play but again offers interesting background into the theatre scene in which Shakespeare was operating.

The following sections on James 1st, his court, and the theatre world at that time were cut from the final play. The choice was right as the play began to divert into countless subplots but I think there is value in this as a first draft.