SHAKESPEARE NOTES
by Maria Rioux


 


AN INTRODUCTION TO SHAKESPEARE

        I suppose my first exposure to Shakespeare was through my mother who fixed her unwavering eye upon this offending child and asked, "To be or not to be, that is the question..." While she was not contemplating self-slaughter, her thoughts were murderous all the same. The language was not one to which I was accustomed, but the meaning was clear.  Much of what was familiar to Elizabethan audiences will be foriegn to us, and yet we can appreciate the full beauty and nuances of the English language as well as the deeper meanings and themes expressed.  I have been asked to choose from among Shakespeare's works four plays suitable for high school students. The difficulty lies not in selecting four suitable plays, but in limiting the selection to four.

    Shakespeare's plays can be divided, roughly, into three categories: comedies, tragedies, and histories. I have chosen one play in each style, and Shakespeare's undisputed masterpiece, Hamlet.  When reading the plays one must bear in mind that, while Shakespeare is a master, he is not a god. We should resist the sort of unwholesome reverence which renders him unapproachable.   We may marvel at his ability and delight in his gift, but we should not allow ourselves to be intimidated by him.  Shakespeare himself wrote for the masses and would consider his work a failure if it could only be appreciated by the erudite. While students may not grasp all the subtleties and implications of the plays, they will undoubtedly understand the universal human themes and interpret these at their own intellectual and emotional level.   In recent years, students have approached Shakespeare much like David approached Goliath: out of a sense of duty and necessity,  an undesired and seemingly insurmountable task, little knowing their God-given ability.  Like David, students can conquer, given half a chance.

  Shakespeare's strength lies in his ability to delight us with the beauty of his phrases and the wisdom and truth we find therein. These truths are eternal: they are what make Shakespeare truly great and relevant now as much as then. Human nature does not change, and Shakespeare does know human nature.  Shakespeare's genius lies in his ability to express with uncommon clarity and depth the full range of human experience. Through him we stand alone with kings, weep bitter tears and plot revenge with the oppressed, and bask in the wonder and tenderness of love. This is the art of poetry, of which Shakespeare himself said, "The poet's eye in a fine, frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And, as imagination bodies forth the form of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, that, if it would apprehend some joy, it comprehends some bringer of that joy; or in the night, imagining some fear, how easy is a bush suppos'd a bear!" (Midsummer Night's Dream, V.i )
His plays are sometimes bawdy and violent,  which appealed to the masses then as much as now. And yet, every play Shakespeare ever wrote has, beneath this crowd-pleasing surface, elements of beauty and truth that raise its subject to the sublime.  He is a master who fascinates  audiences today no less than the patrons of the Globe Theatre centuries ago. 

       In making my selection, I chose plays that have themes with which the student of today will identify, plays which parallel contemporary problems or ask eternal questions.  King Lear asks the question: What is a man? While no simple answer can be given, we do see one thing through the play: when a man loses everything, his worldly wealth and position, his children, and even his reason, he is yet able to love and be loved. Lear reminds us of the truth in St. Paul's words: "And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. (1 Corinthians: 13: 2)   It shows us, apart from any religious commandments, that man is man through his capacity to love.

      The tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark is Shakespeare's most famous play. How does this beloved and intelligent prince fall so far so fast?  Hamlet has gone down in history as the world's greatest deliberator.  He delayed so long and  deliberated so much, that as a result of his all but standing still, those nearest and dearest to him died, and he loses his own life. Hamlet is not a man who does not know how to act; what Hamlet cannot bring himself to do is to avenge his father and murder his uncle. While he vows, "with wings as swift as meditation or the thoughts of love...sweep to my revenge," (I, v, 27-29) he does not do what he knows he ought. He is the great procrastinator, and every student knows what evils result from procrastination!

       The comedy of The Taming of the Shrew has been roundly criticized for its brutality to women, but this may be  due more to a certain sensitivity of our times than to any real cause in Shakespeare.  This is not the tale of the taming of an insufferably bad tempered woman by an equally intolerable brute. Petruchio alone sees the good hidden behind the shrewish Katherine and loves her enough to teach her that she is better than this.  He disguises himself as what she has allowed herself to be; he is a mirror in which she may recognize the ugliness of her own contrary and willful behavior. The end of any play, as Shakespeare tells us, is exactly this:  "the end of playing is to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature." Hamlet: III,ii,22-23) The battle these two fight is not based upon intense mutual dislike, but rather on ever-increasing love. Petruchio could not abide a tamed and broken wife any more than Katherine could have endured a meek and timid husband. His intent is not to break her spirit, but rather her pride. In Katherine's final surrender we have a meeting of the minds, and the two come together in an elegantly negotiated, not an imposed, peace.

     Most children will fantasize about castles and kings. In Henry V our fairy  visions vanish; we come to  feel the burden and loneliness of command.  Henry has wonderful speeches, delightfully comical and yet tender wooing scenes, and carefully constructed phrases that identify him with God and England. Henry was wildly popular, and Shakespeare presents him as a good and noble king. The battles he fights are God's battles;  he knows the humility and infinite responsibility  of the man who must commend thousands of men to their deaths. His St. Crispin's Day speech would stir men's hearts and rouse them to battle as effectively today as those many years ago:
"And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, from this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembered; we few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so base, this day shall gentle his condition: and gentlemen in England, now a-bed, shall think themselves accursed they were not here; and hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's Day." (IV, iii, 35)

Shakespeare's plays are simply that: plays. They were meant to be acted, seen, and heard. If these plays are to be kept alive, it must be through the medium of theatre.  Students of Shakepeare would do well to read and study; they would do better to perform.


Comedy of Errors

Aegeon's pain at the outset of the play is so great and his story so poignantly told, that we cannot completely forget his plight throughout the comic scenes that follow. The references to time in almost every scene that follows are a reminder that the clock is ticking---time, for Aegeon, is running out. This unlikely mix of both comic and tragic elements serves to render the play neither a true comedy nor a real tradgedy. The play ends happily, complete with the prospect of marriage between Lucianna and Antipholus S. and Dromio E. and the kitchen maid,  weighing the scales in favor of comedy.

Changes in Characters:

It is interesting to note the changes in the Duke. At the outset he is the servant of the state, the hand of justice,

        "Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more...."

 who will uphold the law despite the fact that doing so conflicts with his own judgement.

"Hapless Aegeon, whom the fates have marked to bear the extremity of dire mishap! Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, against my crown, against my dignity, which princes, would they, may not disannul, my souls should sue as advocate for thee."
This laying aside of personal perspective to uphold the laws of the state is noble and good; without law there is anarchy. Unjust laws must be changed through legitimate means.  On the other hand, even just laws must be tempered with mercy (and there is definitely some question whether  this could be termed a just law!).

At the close of the play the Duke has softened:

"Yet once again proclaim it publicly; If any friend will pay the sum for him, he will not die; So much we tender him."

Here we find the Duke, working within the constraints of the law that binds him,
affording Aegeon every opportunity to escape his fate. If mercy can be had, the Duke will gladly give it. Lastly, the sum is to be paid by the twin sons, but the Duke makes one more leap: the sum is rejected, and mercy is complete.
     
      "It shall not need; Thy father hath his life."

Again, Adrianna at the outset is independent and forceful:

"Why should their liberty than ours be more?"

"There's none but asses will be ridden so." Note: reference to servitude; Dromio makes numerous references to being an ass.

At the close of the play, after the Abbess "did betray me to my own reproof ", she is docile, solicitous, and reconciliatory.

"Whom I made lord of me and all I had."
"To fetch my poor distracted husband hence. Let us come in that we may bind him fast, and bear him home for his recovery."


Themes of the play:

Love: familial, romantic, and  Divine.

Familial:
We begin the play with all the main characters apart from those they love. Aegeon has lost his wife and two sons, and later his two remaining sons. One interesting physical image is the use of perfectly identical twins to stress the strength of familial bonds. These bands, in the end, prove so strong that they are able to reunite a family after many years and difficult journeys.
Antipholus S.  left his father, and when he lands on Ephesus finds that he must "lose himself" as well. He is more than alone. (Initially, he does have Dromio, but
loses him directly, to be replaced by Dromio E. who only serves to add to his feelings of confusion and loss of identity.)

        "He that commends me to mine own content commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water that in the ocean seeks another drop; Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:So I, to find a mother and a brother, in quest of them, unhappy, lose myself."

Antipholus E. has been separated from both his parents, is estranged from his wife, and loses his brother in the same way that Antipholus S. loses his.

At the close of the play all these matters are resolved:
Aemelia and Aegeon are reunited with both their sets of twin sons; Antipholus E. is reconciled to his wife; Antipholus S. is about to marry Lucianna (thus creating an even stronger bond with his brother).

Romantic Love:
The same imagery applied in the case of familial love is  seen again when we are speaking of romantic love.

"Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! For know, my love, that easy as mayst thou fall a drop of water in the breaking gulf, and take unmingled thence that drop again, without addition or diminishing, as take from me thyself, and not me too."

Adrianna beautiful expresses the truth of married love: they are no longer two, but one, and to try to tear the one from the other is as impossible (and as painful) as to withdraw that one drop from the pounding surf.

"There once was time when thou unurged wouldst vow that never words were music to thine ear, that never object pleasing in thine eye, that never touch well welcome to the hand, that never meat sweet-savored in thy taste, unless I spake, or looked, or touched, or carved to thee."

If that isn't a delightful despription of how lovers feel about the beloved, I don't know what is.

"I am possessed with an adulterous blot; My blood is mingled with the crime of lust; For if we two be one, and thou play false, I do digest the poison of thy flesh..."

Adrianna describes what any would feel having been betrayed by a spouse. She  uses physical images so forcefully one can almost touch the aversion one would feel. And yet, later in the play, she loves her husband so deeply she is willing to forgive him. The vow is "For better or for worse" not "For better, maybe a little worse, but definitely not for bad..."

Adrianna is a complex character and also my favorite. She is by turns angry, disgusted, jealous, loving, kind, compassionate and deeply sad.  She is, if her husband's words are to be trusted, unreasonably jealous.

         "My wife, ---but I protest, without desert---hath oftentimes upbraided me withal."
    
Her question "Why should their liberty than ours be more?" is probably a controversial statement for the day. Through the lens of Christian marriage, however, it seems sound, if we are not asking "Why shouldn't we each be completely free to do as we please?' That sort of liberty was obviously set aside when one chose to marry. Once married, each works for the good of the other, the family, and the greater glory of God. Neither is independent--the two are one.  Neither has time (nor any other good) at his disposal; all things are held in common for the good of the family. To push this one step further, the husband as head of his wife, mirrors Christ as Head of the Church. Christ came to suffer and die that He, the Head, might preserve us, the Body of Christ, or the Church. Lastly, the Master (Christ, and our exemplar) serves for the good of all.  

Adrianna says, "Antipholus, my husband, whom I made lord of me and all I had..." . This is possibly my favorite line of the play. It stresses the fact that women are in control of their married lives. It is often through unreflected choices that women find themselves unhappily bound. Men must ask women to marry them. The choice is ours.

Divine love:

The Abbess represents the church. The Duke, who represents Divine love or mercy, affirms her goodness:

       "She is a virtuous and a reverend lady: it cannot be that she hath                                      done thee wrong."

Through her, Adrianna is reconciled to her husband. Through the Duke, Aegeon is reunited with his wife and sons, and rescued from his fate.  All is righted. One might say of all the choas that led to the final resolution that God's ways are not our ways, but He is good. Aegeon is rewarded not through any personal merit or payment of any debt, but simply for being who he is. It is Divine mercy, sealed with the approval of the Duke. One might make a further point and suggest that here we have the state and the Church ruling as one for the good of all.

Role of Women:

We've already spoken of Adrianna at length.  Let's turn to Luciana. She is probably my  least favorite character.

"Why headstrong liberty is lashed with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye but hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, are their males subjects and under his controls: Men more divine, the masters of all these, lords of the wide world and the watery seas,  indued with intellectual sense and souls,or more preeminence than fish and fowls are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords."

Adrianna points out two things: this attitude keeps Luciana from wanting to marry(at least she shows some sense) and if Luciana were to find herself in Adrianna's perceived predicament, she'd be singing a different song. We will add that her reasoning is, by Christian standards, faulty. Men and women are equal in dignity, both being made in the image of God. Women are called to be submissive to their husbands (in all things but sin), just as the Church is submissive to Christ, not because they are less "divine".

"If  you did wed my sister for her wealth, then for her wealth's sake, use her with more kindness: or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth."
"... Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; Apparral vice like virtue's harbiger; bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted."
"Alas, Poor women! make us but believe being compact of credit, that you love us. Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve."

It is in this exchange that Luciana shows herself to be among the most stupid of women. What puzzles me is that this is the discourse that causes Antipholus to fall for her! Proof, as though it were needed, that men can be compelled by reasons as moronic and shallow as women.  Luciana  is working for a reconciliation. She wants her sister to be happy. Who would want  happiness that is such a shadow of the real thing?
Role of society:
The identity of the individual as defined by the state and society is first seen when Antipholus begins to lose himself after having to hide the fact that he is from Syracuse.  We meet it again when Dromio is told to "know my aspect and fashion your demeanor to my looks" by Antipholus. Shortly thereafter Dromio begins to doubt his identity.  Again, Adriana measures herself by her husband, to some degree, pointing to the fact that spouses are in some way defined and affected by each other.
 
"Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, makes me with thy strength to communicate."

When spouses no longer know each other, and servants likewise fail to recognize their masters, all is confusion to the point of doubting one's own identity. We are social animals. Without society, we are, to some extent, lost.

 
Macbeth

In Macbeth, there are no subplots, nothing to take our attention away from the the plottings of Macbeth and his wife, and it's developing ugliness. All the action of the play follows upon a single decision by Macbeth to act on his ambition.

The fact that Duncan is a wise, old, just and generous king makes Macbeth's betrayal all the more repugnant. He admits to a double betrayal: one as a soldier of the king, and one as a host to his guest.
(Porter's reference to the Gunpowder Plot: Jesuits tried to blow up the king, his heir, and both houses of Parliament by placing gunpowder under the Parliament building.)
If we look to Scottish history, what Macbeth did initially was not so very grievous nor uncommon. The Scot's did not cling to a sort of Divine right of kings, nor  follow blood succession that closely.

The evil humans commit is reflected in the weather and in the behavior of animals.  Macbeth is seduced by prophecy and by Lady Macbeth's and his own greed for power, as well as his love for Lady Macbeth and his desire to earn her love and respect. His initial murder might be viewed by Scots as somewhat expected, and surely, no one in the play seems either deceived nor surprised. However, this one act leads to other murders, culminating in the murder of a woman and her children as they sleep, the murder of the innocent.

In both the plot and the language, Shakespeare explores the influence of fate and free will. The Witches could be vehicles of fate, or they could be Macbeth's ambition personified. In support of this, Hecate reprimands the witches for their part in fanning the flames of Macbeth's ambition as though he could, indeed, choose otherwise. Macbeth seems to act, and then to sit back and resign himself to the consequence of his chosen actions as if he had no will in the matter.

Macbeth is the tragic hero, for he was not always evil. He begins the play good and noble, for which he is rewarded with the title "thane of Cawdor." He struggles against his ambition and ignoble thoughts, but is rather easily overcome by his wife's ambition and scorn.

Duncan says:
       "No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive our bosom
        interest. Go pronounce his present death, and with his former title
        greet Macbeth."

Ironically, the granting of this title gives Macbeth the idea to kill the king. Macbeth will go far beyond deceiving Duncan's "bosom interest."

Macbeth  is astounded when he is addressed as "thane of Cawdor," but Banquo warns him that evil sometimes tells small truths to trick people into believing larger lies. Macbeth is confused, but  the thought that he might soon rule Scotland begins to erode his noble nature.  Lady Macbeth knows her husband's nature all too well and braces herself to undermine the good in him. She fears he is all to noble to do the ugly things that 'must' be done. One has to chuckle a bit at her prayer to unsex herself. She doesn't seem to require a whole lot of pushing to quiet any tender and gentle tendencies she might have. It is important to add that this is true only in the abstract. Once the deed is done, and her hands are wet with Duncan's blood, she begins her decent into madness. Having denied her nature, her mind begins to acquire an unnatural sickness.

Banquo is right: the witches tell only part of the truth, and then only that part which disguises the evil required for these events to come to pass. Macbeth argues that since the witches' predictions have begun to be true, how can the witches be evil? If they were evil, they would lie. This ignores the evil of equivocation - when partial truths serve a greater lie. Banquo warns against equivocation:  "oftentimes, to win us to our harm the instruments of darkness tell us truths".   Shakespeare establishes Banquo as  heroic and wise, a faithful servant of the king, of Scotland, and a fit father for future kings.

The fact that the witches lie, or at least, shield the truth, suggests that Macbeth is not ruled by fate. He has a choice, which they hope to influence, but they cannot command his actions or they would not bother to hide the reality from him. He must be at least able to struggle against fate.

 "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me  without my stir."
It's as if Macbeth is simply resigning himself to fate. On the other hand, we see that he does not. He takes matters into his own hands, not waiting for the fates to have their will. Perhaps he feels that any action is justified because the fates have sort of given him the nod: this is what he is meant to be, hence, meant to do.

Lady Macbeth seems to be more vicious than her husband. She readily adjusts to the evil plans, seeking only their personal good. (One might ask if personal good is ever distinct from common good. )

Macbeth invites Banquo to a feast, already planning his demise.
This is the first evil deed Macbeth plans without his wife's knowledge and        strength. He admits to guilt and fear, but uses these feelings to justify further evil deeds.   Since Macbeth here attempts to outsmart the witches' predictions by
 killing Banquo and Fleance, a strong argument can be made that even        Macbeth knows he has chosen an evil path, not just had one dictated to him by Fate. He begins as a hero who requires convincing from his wife. He proceeds from regicide to betrayal of a friend and his child. Ultimately, he murders a
woman and her children.
 Macbeth's moral decay is revealed when he says:
"For now I am bent to know,  by the worst means, the worst. For mine own good all  causes shall give way. I am in blood stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er.  Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,  which must be acted ere they may be scann'd"

A deeply troubled Lady Macbeth attempts to wash blood off her hands; she is not as  immune to conscience as  she had first appeared. She displays the same fears of blood and starts at knockings. We cannot help but see the parallel between this Lady Macbeth and Macbeth himself after the murder of the king. At that time, Lady Macbeth showed her nerves to be almost of steel, and her husband felt he did not know her.The Macbeth's have reversed roles.
"I begin to be weary of the sun." This is Macbeth, having heard the forest has risen up against him and his wife is dead.  While their roles were reversed, he relies on her to support his evil deeds. He recognizes the end is near and begins to despair. Macbeth achieved what he wanted, the ultimate power of being king, but because he accomplished his goals through evil, he is left with no allies  or loyalty.

Macbeth is the tragic hero who wrestles with his weaknesses and falls. He is supposed to rise to a higher level than from whence he fell, but I wasn't able to find that he did.
Deceit in Macbeth is used to further the schemes of the tragic hero. Deceit in the comedies was used to aid others, whether consciously or unconsciously.

 
Henry V

In the opening act of Henry V, the Archbishop of Canterbury states that Henry is a changed man: "The breath no sooner left his father's body, but that his wildness, mortified in him, seem'd to die too." (Act I, sc.1, 26-27)  In this paper we ask whether the self-absorbed and self-indulgent Henry is indeed changed for the better: I think not.
     If we were to judge Henry by the opinions of the Bishop of Ely and the Archbishop of Canterbury, we might be persuaded that something akin to the transformation of Saul took place at the deathbed of Henry's father.  He is reputed to have grown in wisdom and grace, and likened to Alexander the Great: "Turn him to any cause of policy, the Gordian Knot of it he will unloose." (Act I, sc. 1, 47-48) Indeed, as we listen to Henry, we do feel that "the air is still, and the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, to steal his sweet and honeyed sentences".  However, when we measure his words by his deeds, we begin to question his motives.
     At the outset, the bishops attempt to prevent "half of our better possessions", namely Church lands, from being legally seized by parliament for the Crown.  As landowners died, they tended to leave their lands and wealth to the Church in the hope that heaven would smile upon their generosity.  With more land going to the Church, less was controlled  and taxed by the king.  In considering this bill, Henry showed that he was ready to steal from the Church in order to profit the Crown. The issue was how much can he 'steal' from the Church, and how will he accomplish it. In fact, his main reason for warring with France is to gain "a greater sum than ever at one time the clergy yet did to his predecessors part withal." (Act I, sc. 1, 81-83) By contrast, when Bardolf, an English soldier and former riotous companion of Henry's, steals a chalice from a French church, he is hanged for this comparatively minor theft. Henry comments that, "We would have all such offenders so cut off" (Act 3, sc. 6,112), and then gives orders that no soldier may molest the French villagers in any way. Henry's reason for this is shrewd, but not necessarily noble: "when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner" (Act 3, sc.5, 117-119). Henry seems gentlest with himself.
     One might even go so far as to say that Henry invited this sort of behavior outside of the gates of Haffleur, which would make his reaction to it that much more appalling and hypocritical.  Henry, who earlier referred to himself as "no tyrant, but a Christian king" (Act I, sc.2, 241) threatens before his men, as a soldier and commander of an army, to shut the gates of mercy against Haffleur,  and allow "the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart, in liberty of bloody hand shall range with conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants." (Act 3, sc.3, 10-14) While Henry claims to be unable to hold back his men once they have set themselves against Haffleur, he has no trouble making an example of Bardolf and reigning in the conduct of his men when it suits his purpose.
    Shakespeare seems to emphasize Henry's deceitful and hypocritical nature in a play on words. The night before the battle at Agincourt, Henry attempts to cheer Gloucester, Erpingham, and Bedford. His forces are outnumbered 5-1, but he finds good in what appears to be dismal: "For our bad neighbor makes us early stirrers, which is both healthful and good husbandry." (Act IV, sc.1, 6-7) Henry tells Erpingham  that "a good soft pillow for that good white head were better than a churlish turf of France," to which Erpingham replies, "Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better, since I may say, 'Now lie I like a king.'" (Act IV, sc. 1, 17)  Both men literally lie on the ground, but, if one recalls that Erpingham, now so eager for the glory of battle, was doing his utmost to  avoid battle at the breech at Haffleur's walls, one can divine a deeper meaning.
     Henry, as king, is changed; he is no longer childish and petty in his preoccupations. He has tasted ambition, and rather than trade virtue for vice, he looks to gain greater goods than personal pleasure. That his good might also be England's  good is not the point. No longer self-indulgent, he remains self-absorbed.

 
The Taming of the Shrew

Themes:
Familial Love and Romantic Love
Identity

There are three story lines in this play, and each begins with someone pretending to be what he is not and becoming what he was not.
In the case of Christopher Sly, we have a drunkard and a fool (indicated by the use of prose) "becoming" a nobleman (indicated by his use of verse in the very moment that he accepts his new identity).

Am I a lord, and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now?  I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak, I smell sweet savors; and I feel soft things. Upon my life, I am a lord indeed, and not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly. Well, bring our lady hither to our sight, and once again a pot o'the smallest ale.

Throughout the rest of the play, he is a nobleman, speaking only in verse. Even more interesting is the transformation of Bartholomew as the newly-made nobleman's wife. While he is most convincing, given Sly's reaction to him, he cannot be what he is not. At some point, this disguise must fail. It is significant that Sly, the male character, is completely transformed, while Bartholomew, the female character, is not. This sets the stage for the play that follows: all is not what it appears to be, and the females, in particular, are disguised at first, only to reveal their true selves in the end.

First Lucentio has come to study and learn: "Here let us breathe and haply institute a course of learning and ingenious studies..." . His servant is pleased by his resolve, though he should not be: "Glad that you thus continue your resolve to suck the sweets of sweet philosophy...". In the next moment, Lucentio sees Bianca and all thought of study is gone. He plots to become what he is not, namely a teacher, in order to have the opportunity to be near and woo Bianca.  Tranio, for his part, will play the part of master, which is a reflection of Sly, the tinker, playing the part of a lord. Tranio, however, speaks in verse, which is an indicator of intelligence rather than noble birth. He handles the various difficulties that arise efficiently and effectively.
Another suitor, Hortensio, disguises himself as a music instructor. These deceptions are like that of Bartholomew in that they are not intended to succeed completely; at some point each suitor intends to be recognized for who he really is and be married by the (apparently) sweet Bianca. There are more plots and side-twists, to the point of pulling in a complete stranger to play the part of Vincentio, Lucentio's father.  In having so many characters play a part, Shakespeare focuses our attention on the fact that no one is what they seem to be.

Bianca is described as "sweet", "fair", and "mild", but is she? When her father tells her to "Bianca, get you in...", she does, indeed, go in.
 "Sir, to your pleasure, humbly, I subscribe: my books and instruments shall be my company, on them to look and practice by myself."

 But does she do as he instructs?  Shortly thereafter her teachers reveal themselves as suitors, and she does not protest. She enjoys their wooing, and is even coy, encouraging both. "Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, that I have been thus pleasant with you both." Also, we find that she isn't quite as mild and docile as we were told.

"Why, gentlemen, you do me doubly wrong, to strive for that which resteth in my choice: I am no breeching scholar in the schools; I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times, but learn my lesson as I please myself."

This is similar to what Kate says later on:

Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak and speak I will; I am no child, no babe. Your betters have endured me say my mind. and if you cannot, best you stop your ears. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break; and rather than it shall, I will be free even to the uttermost as I please in words."

Here we have an indicator as to why things are as they are. Bianca has all the appearance of mildness and womanly virtue, while Katherine has none. She is  honest about what she feels. Baptista obviously favors Bianca. One wonders if the shrewish nature attributed to Katherine isn't more of an angry response to the injustice she recognizes in her family and the pain this engenders, than a reflection of her true nature.

At the close of the play we see Bianca, now married, her goal attained. She no longer needs to hide her true self, and she doesn't:

"Fie, what foolish duty call you this?"

"I would your duty were as foolish too: the wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, hath cost me a hundred crowns since suppertime."

"The more fool you, for laying on my duty."

Bianca is revealed for what she always was, just as Bartholomew at the outset must come to be known for what he is. Katherine, also is shown to be what she always was. We were unable to recognize it in her at the outset because it was disguised and hidden by her apparent shrewish nature. Two passages point to the real Katherine.

"Husband, let's follow to see the end of this ado."
"First, kiss me Kate, and we will."
"What, in the midst of the street?"
"What, art thou ashamed of me?"
"No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss."
"Why, then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away."
"Nay, I will give thee a kiss; now pray thee, love, stay."
"Is not this well? Come my sweet Kate: Better once than never, for never too late."

Kate is gentle and honest. Their conversation is companionable,  between complementary equals. They speak with tenderness, and above all, respect. A shrill, nagging woman is as ugly as an over-bearing, domineering man.  Neither have the dignity proper to their nature: both have become more beasts than men. Petruchio wants something better for Katherine. I think he sees her goodness, and in an attempt to help her recognize her true self, he becomes what she has disguised herself to be.   Petruchio alone loves her enough to teach her that she is better than this. He will not allow her to behave this way.  Somewhat similar to the disguises the suitors of Bianca put on, Petruchio disguises himself, but it is at and after his wedding that he chooses to hide his real nature.

"A bridegroom say you?  'tis a groom indeed, a grumbling groom and that the girl shall find."
"Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible."
"Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend."
"Why she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam."
"Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him!"

Shakespeare let's us know this is a disguise, because Petruchio comes dressed in tatters and rags, unkempt and unmatched, down to his boots, the antithesis of the lord and gentleman that he in fact is. Throughout the rest of the play, Petruchio remains 'in costume'.  His method is simple. He is like a mirror for her to see the ugliness of her own contrary and willful behavior. It is like the parent of an unruly child who lays down and  kicks and screams right alongside him. Were we to witness such behavior we might question the sanity of the parent, but it is effective in gaining the child's attention. Seeing the behavior in this ridiculous light, the child recognizes it in all it's ugliness. Petruchio rants and raves more than Kate ever did; so much so, that people begin to wonder if he is mad. His ravings are extreme in order to amplify the ridiculousness of such behavior. He will brook no opposition. Again, the analogy to children is helpful: When  reasonable parents stand their ground through a child's testing, the child no longer feels the need to tests the boundaries  of acceptable behavior to make sure they are there.  In the same way,  when Petruchio refuses to be "crossed", she no longer feels the need to test him and determine whether or not he is strong enough to insist on acceptable, rational behavior. She recognizes the ugliness of her earlier behavior, and finds her hidden, beautiful self.
Is this too kind an interpretation? Is Petruchio rather an oafish brute, who tames his wife as he might tame a falcon?

Thus have I politicly begun my reign, and 'tis my hope to end successfully. My falcon now is sharp and passing empty; and til she stoop she must not be full-gorged, for then she never looks upon her lure. Another way I have to man my haggard, to make her come and know her keeper's call, that is to watch her, as we watch these kites, that bate and beat and will not be obedient. She eat no meat today, nor none shall eat; last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not;
.....this is a way to kill a wife with kindness; and thus I'll curb her mad and
headstrong humour."

The falcon imagery is again employed at the end, when the men bet against their wives virtue:

"Twenty crowns? I'll venture so much of my hawk or my hound, but twenty times so much upon my wife."

It is interesting to note what the nobleman says at the outset of the play:

"Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is embossed, and couple Clowder with the deep mouthed brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good, at the hedge corner in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound."

Petruchio, who is to paralleled to the nobleman,  may count Kate among his possessions, but if so, she is surely well-prized. Petruchio plans to "man" his haggard" which means he plans to tame her and to be a man to her. He will not allow her to make him what he is not, namely a hen-pecked husband afraid of his domineering wife. It is her "mad and headstrong humour" he wishes to curb. His intent is not to break her will, but to curb it; to teach her to curb herself.  I think the text supports this in that when she does behave as any human ought, that is, with civility, he bends his will to hers.

She rebukes her sister and the widow, in a stirring speech of wifely virtue. (The woman of today might say she takes it a bit far, but if Christ, who is God, can humble Himself and wash our feet out of love for us (as signified through the apostles), I don't know why we would consider it demeaning to similarly serve those we choose to love above all others.  It is important to note that this is not a uniquely, wifely function: husband's are called upon to love their wives as they love themselves. Many a husband has demeaned himself in the eyes of the world, and even humbled himself in his own eyes, in order to benefit his wife or children. Service which springs from love is so beautiful that nothing can besmirch it. What is more delightful than to find the one you love eager to please and serve you? Children find comfort and security in the fact that none of their needs are too base, nor too trivial for their parents to meet.  Older children witness this service on the part of their parents and their hearts are warmed by the thought that not so long ago this was the love that was shown to them. They never question the dignity of the parents, nor view them as if they were now, by these acts, rendered servants.)

Katherine could be viewed as being her true self as a shrew and disguising this to appear to be an obedient wife at the close of the play. I don't think this is as satisfying an interpretation. I think Katherine had more honesty and spirit than that.

The Introduction to Taming of the Shrew

     In this paper we ask whether the lord in the introduction of the Taming of the Shrew is kind and charitable in his treatment of Christopher Sly.  We meet Sly as he exits an alehouse, having drunk more than his fill. He refuses to pay what he owes for damages incurred, and promptly lies down in the street, unwilling and unable to make his way home. We are not immediately moved to pity, for  his indignities are self-inflicted.  The lord, seeing Sly in this sad state, responds similarly:  "O monstrous beast! How like a swine he lies."  It is then that he conceives a plan to make Sly forget who and what he is and to transform him into a lord. He executes this plan with all gentleness and apparent care:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber and hang it round with all my wanton pictures: Balm his foul head in warmed distilled waters and burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Procure me music ready when he wakes to make a dulcet and a heavenly sound, and if he chance to speak, be ready straightŠ This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs."

If we were to look at the manner of treatment that Sly receives, we might be persuaded to think the lord something like a good Samaritan. He gives his own, best things for Sly's comfort. However, the question of whether the lord  is beneficent or not lies more in his motives than in his means. As with any action, what is done is made morally significant by why it is done. Charity, that is, real love, seeks the true good of another as opposed to the apparent good. In this case, the lord is not seeking Sly's good, but rather his own passing pleasure.  He will happily pay handsomely for some humor at Sly's expense.
"Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up and manage well the jest."

"It will be pastime passing excellent, if it be husbanded with modesty."

"Well, you are come to me in happy time; the rather for I have some sport in hand wherein your cunning can assist me much."

"I long to hear him [Bartholomew] call the drunkard husband, and how my men will stay themselves from laughter when they do homage to this simple peasant. I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence may well abate the over-merry spleen which otherwise would grow into extremes."

He will "practice on this drunken man" and see if he cannot make "the beggar then forget himself." He does not hope for any permanent change: in fact, the ruse at some point must fail, for the lord will not give up his own to a beggar. When it does fail, and Sly realizes he is not what he has come to believe himself to be, what will pass through his mind? The delicious food, luxurious surroundings, tender care, and sweet music are not his, and never will be again. Some comforts are better not known, for they make the return to 'real' life that much more painful. Epicurus thought that men should delight in simple things, for such goods are commonplace and thus more accessible. Who is more likely to be able to be happy, the man whose pleasures are costly and rare, or the man who can take joy in the simple pleasures of life? Is Sly, then, better off for having fleetingly felt the joys of the 'good life', a life that will never be his? More telling, how will he feel when he realizes the woman presented as his loving wife is in truth a man playing a part? He will leave the lord's manor with less than he came, stripped of any dignity,  mocked with everything he does not have,  for being what he is.
"Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Š I would not lose the dog for twenty pound."

"Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well, and look unto them all.

 The lord has more real care for his dogs than for this unfortunate man.


 
Twelfth Night

Themes:
Romantic Love, Familial Love; Pride; foolishness; wit

Familial Love:
Viola and Olivia are both mourning a brother, but there is a significant difference in the manner of their mourning. Olivia immerses herself in mourning and makes great efforts to ensure that these feelings of grief will not abate. Viola fears her brother may be lost to her forever, yet she hopes he is still alive and struggles not to succumb to grief.  Grief, for Olivia, seems less real, self-indulgent, and affected. In describing her, Valentine uses the comparison of tears to brine. Brine is used to "season," or preserve foods; her tears, by the metaphorical association, will preserve her brother's memory.

"The element itself, til seven year's heat, shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk and water once a day her chamber round with eye offending brine: all this to season a brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh and lasting in her sad remembrance."

It's as if Olivia thinks her prolonged mourning will cast a favorable light on her in the perception of others. It is almost a point of pride. On the other hand, she's right:
O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame to pay this debt of love but to a brother, how will she love when the rich golden shafthath killed the flock of all affections else that lived in her...."

When Olivia speaks of her grief the language she uses is dramatic and poetic; Viola's manner is plain and straightforward, denoting grief but also sensibility. Viloa is optimistic by nature, as seen in her attitude towards the captain. Although she does not know him well, she presumes that he has a "fair and outward character" from their limited interaction, and his offers to help her. She assumes the best of him, rather than the worst, But is also aware that  appearances can be deceiving.

There is fair behavior in thee, captain; and though that nature with a beauteous wall doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe thou hast a mind that suits with this thy fair and outward character.

Romantic Love:
Orsino is besotted by Olivia. From the outset, his manner is richly poetic and full of extravagant imagery. Olivia does not return his affections; she does everything in her power to dissuade him, his efforts are fruitless, and he should have no allusions as to what hopes he might have.

Your Lord does know my mind: I cannot lov him:Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him nobl, of great estate, of fresh and stainless youthin voices well divulged, free, learned, and valient;and in dimension and the shape of nature a gracious person: but yet, I cannot love him; He might have took his answer long ago.

One wonders what her objections to the paragon of manhood might be. At first I had the sneaking suspicion that here was yet another instance of the heart devoid of reason. As the play progresses, however, we see the very great pride of Olivia and realize she would no more marry below her station than above it.

She'll none o' the count: she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, or wit.

I see what you are, you are too proud; but if you were the devil, you are fair.

      Ironically, it is through Orsino's efforts to woo and win Olivia that she meets and falls for Viola (a dead ringer for her brother, apparently. Viola later admits to patterning Cesario on her brother, which works well in the story since it makes it more believable that Olivia could substitute Sebastion for Viola. It also seems somewhat reasonable, for what better way to omfort grief than to watch your brother live in you?) Olivia's favor for Viola is first shown in Act I, scene 5:
What is your parentage? Above my fortunes, yet my state is well, I am a gemtle man. I'll be sworn thou art; thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, thy actions, and spirit, do give thee five fold blazen: not too fast, soft, soft! Unless the master were the man. How now! Even so quickly may one catch the plague! Methinks I feel this youth's perfections with an invisible and subtle stealth to creep in at my eyes.

 Olivia asks Viola about parentage, perhaps to see if this young page is of a high enough rank to be considered for marriage. When Viola leaves, Olivia remarks on the young page's looks, and states her preference for Cesario over Orsino; yet, Olivia is not one to rush into the situation, asking herself if "even so quickly may one catch the plague". For the last lines spoken in this scene, Olivia even reverts to rhyme, speaking two couplets about her new favor for Viola/Cesario. "Fate, show thy force, ourselves we do not owe; What is decreed must be, and be this so." Previously in this act, rhyme and verse were primarily spoken by the lovelorn Orsino; perhaps this sudden shift from prose to rhyming verse is meant to show that poetry is born of love, and that eloquence in verse is a symptom of being in love.
     One major theme of the play, first developed in this act, concerns how Olivia and Orsino are changed by their relationship with Viola, and how her simplicity and directness helps them to shed their affectations.  Before meeting Viola, Orsino speaks poetically but somewhat artificially about his love for Olivia; after he meets Viola, he gets right to the point, disclosing to her the extent of his affections, and his plans to woo her. He's in the realm of the practical now. He still heaves heavy sighs, there remain occasional outbursts of sentiment, but these are tempered and less flowery. It was as if, at the outset, he was as focused on the outward expression and appearance of being in love as Olivia was in regard to the loss of her brother and her expressions of grief.  Viloa has a similar effect on Olivia. Her  shows of mourning are dropped, as Olivia must use her wit and plain speech in order to deal directly with Viola. Olivia proves herself witty, direct, and having good judgement. She correctly pegs Malvolio: "You are sick of self love, Malvolio..." She notes his propensity to make "birdbolts into canon bullets" which would be the equivalent of making a mountain out of a mole hill, although more colorfully stated.  Viola is not affected in her behavior or manner, although she is an aristocrat. Through their dealings and contact with her, both Orsino and Olivia become less self-absorbed and more direct and honest with themselves and those around them.

     We meet Sebastion, who appears to be more formal than Viola, making his grief seem less personal. While Valentine spoke of Olivia's  tears as brine, Sebastian creates a metaphor between his tears and the ocean which drowned his sister, both being salt-water. Sebastian is truly grieved, for he admits he is about to break into tears. His language may be a device he uses to detach himself from the situation.  Sebastion's prescence leads to misunderstandings. Olivia is in love with Cesario, who looks like Sebastion, acts like Sebastion, and can be replaced by Sebastion. The affections of the heart, it is hinted, are fickle.
     Viola sees  how her disguise will cause problems  in her relationship with Orsino, and will hinder her from expressing her true feelings for him. She notes this bothersome contradiction, that "as I am man, my state is desperate for my master's love"; but that, "as  woman, what thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!" (II.ii.36-9). Viola also laments that Olivia could fall in love with Cesario so easily; she compares women's hearts to sealing wax and notes how easily the "proper false" leaves a lasting impression in their hearts (II.ii.29). Viola's  statements foreshadow a confrontationwith Orsino and Olivia about her true identity; and she does not look forward to disappointing either one. She feels a sort of kinship with Olivia, as they both have loved and lost brothers. This leads her to be kind and gentle in her refusals of love.

      As Orsino becomes more despondent in his love and more cynical about women,Viola tries to persuade him that his views of women are not fair. At first, Orsino states that men are more wavering in their affection than women are, with "fancies are more giddy and infirm" (II.iv.32). Paradoxically, he espouses the opposite view later in the scene; he talks about how "no woman's heart hold so much" as his can, and how women's love is very variable and not lasting(II.iv.94-5). Again, Orsino uses the image of the sea to describe how vast his love is; but the love Viola describes, of a fictional sister, eclipses both what Orsino professes to feel, and what he thinks women are capable of feeling.  Several of the characters in the play are greatly bound up in love; Orsino is consumed by his love for Olivia, Olivia is torn by her love for her dead brother and her feelings for Cesario, Viola is conflicted by her love for Orsino,(she presents his case to Olivia without tempering it in any way, and without reference to her own feelings and how this situation affects her hopes) and Malvolio is thwarted by his love for himself. The difference in the quality, nobility, and constancy of the love of the various characters in the play  determines their outcome at the end, and whether their love deserves to be requited. When Orsino asks Viola about love, Viola states that she is in love with someone of Orsino's same complexion, and age; this is indeed true, though Viola is speaking of Orsino himself. The irony of Orsino's negative statements about women's capacity for love is that Viola loves him at least as constantly as he does Olivia, and with more devotion.

A blank, my lord. She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought; and with a green and yellow melancholy she sat like patience on a monument, smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? We men may say more, swear more, but indeed, our shows are more than will; for still we prove much in our vows, but little in our love.

Viola's speech shows Orsino transitioning from his previous self-absorbed state in which only his grief mattered, into someone who is sympathetic and cares about Viola's story at least as much as his own. When Viola's story is done, it is she who has to turn the focus of their conversation back to Olivia; he is engrossed by her story, and temporarily forgets about his suit to woo Olivia. This scene shows how Orsino and Viola's relationship has matured into a very deep friendship, with a poignant emotional bond; from this point on, though his suit to Olivia continues,his emotional connection to Viola runs far deeper.

Though the play discusses issues of love, death is ever-present. There is a kind of changeabilty of feeling that one experiences in the polay.  Even Feste recognizes the variability of Orsino's nature; Feste says Orsino is like an opal, a symbol of changeability because of its iridescent qualities. Orsino is not so inconstant that his affections change rapidly; yet, his feelings are variable because of the influence of love, and he can turn from calm to despairing in little time at all. Olivia is once grieved and mourning, and next feeling the first flush of love for Cesario.

There is a kind of pervasive foolishness in the play which suggests that idiocy  is the plague of the living. Sir Toby and Sir Andrew continually mistake each other's meaning. Olivia and Orsino are both to some extent foolish in their lavish display of emotion, more than is warranted. Malvolio is made a fool inpart through the manipulation of others, but more through his own pride. Feste, who is a fool, that is, a jester, is by contrast perceptive, learned, and intelligent.

Feste is not just a comic relief figure, like Sir Andrew; he is perceptive when others are not, as Viola notes after the encounter. Feste and Viola actually have a good bit in common; both are paid servants who are much more than they seem to be. Viola knows, unlike Olivia, Orsino, and the others, that Feste is anything but a fool; he "is wise enough to play the fool, and to do that well craves a kind of wit,"  (III.i.59). Feste is a good judge of human nature, as he shows in his correct assessment of Orsino in Act II; and, he might also be the only one in the play to guess at Viola's disguise. "Now Jove in his next commodity of hair send thee a beard," (l. 44); the statement can be taken as proof that Feste knows that Viola is indisguise, and Viola's quick and somewhat agitated reaction supports this claim.
 The  confrontation between Feste and Viola also brings up the theme of appearance versus reality. Neither of them are quite what they seem, though both of them are able to see through the other's disguise with little problem. Also, Viola speaks of the real divide between wisdom and knowledge; those who appear, or wish to appear aswise, like Malvolio, are often greater fools than Feste, who hides his knowledge behind his shows of foolery. Feste seems beligerent towards Viola and is characterized as a kind of mercenary (his attempts to get more money), while Viola is shown to be even-tempered and slow to anger.
 At the end of the play, Malvolio still has no knowledge of his failings; although the pranks played on him were meant to punish him for his pride and vanity, he has still not seen the error of his ways, or tried to change himself. Feste's statement about how his enemies "tell me plainly I am an ass, so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself," could be taken as a justification for the whole attempt to bring Malvolio to penance. It remains unsuccessful, accentuating the earlier theme of foolishness. Some fools are irredeemable.
The play is a comedy, although there is the element of darkness as in other plays we have read. Olivia has married Sebastion, and the two are content even though they are strangers. Viola and Orsino plan to marry once things are sorted out. Antonio and Orsino remain angry, and Malvolio remains Malvolio, much as we had hoped for a new man. Orsino talks about the "goldentime" they are soon to enjoy, but Feste's prologue, "for the rain it raineth every day,"  casts a pall over Orsino and the others' sunny expectations.

 
Julius Caesar

Tragedy:
It is hard to decide who is the tragic hero in this play, although the title tempts us to favor Caesar. He does have a tragic flaw, but he does not recognize it or struggle to overcome it.

Tragic flaw: ambition and a sort of recklessness rooted in pride.

Mark Anthony claims that Caesar was not ambitious, but history does not support the claim. Caesar crossed the Rubicon with his army, against Roman law. Perhaps he would have been untouched by power and not abused it. He did enjoy having it, he did wield it, and he was feared for it. I think Casca reads matters aright when he says, "he put it by once, but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it; then he put it by again, but to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it...."Act I, ii, 237
As evidence to support this, it is the mention of being crowned that causes Caesar to reconsider his decision to stay home.
"...: the senate hath concluded to give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, their minds may change."
Lastly, while Caesar did wish to conquer, he conquered for Rome, not for himself. Would he have wished to rule Rome as a tyrant? It seems doubtful considering the type of general he was. Shakespeare seems to be of like persuasion:
"O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit that touches Caesar nearer: read it great Caesar."
"What touches us ourself shall be last served."
Act III, i, 15
"I must prevent thee, Cimber. These crouchings and these lowly courtesies might fire the blood of ordinary men.."
Act III, i, 40

As to recklessness, Caesar had ample warnings to beware the ides of march, a written warning detailing the plot which remained in his hand, unread, at his death. He dismisses his wife's premonition and dream, as well as the violent storm and strange natural, or rather unnatural, occurrences."Caesar shall forth: the things that threatened me ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see the face of Caesar, they are vanished." He almost forgets that he is, indeed, mortal.

On the other hand, Brutus is said to be the "noblest Roman of them all" by Mark Anthony, which would place him above Caesar. His tragic flaw would be a kind of unreasonable trust and naivete; his incapacity to understand that not all men are as noble as he.
"Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet I see thy honorable metal may be wrought form that it is disposed: therefore it is meet that noble minds keep ever with their likes; for who so firm that cannot be seduced?"
Act I, ii, 275
We find this to be true, for Brutus' own opinion of Caesar gives no cause for concern:
"and to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known when his affections swayed more than his reason."
Act II, i, 21

All the other conspirators had motive for hating Caesar, and yet Brutus sees only what their words declare: they desire the common good of Rome.
"All the conspirators, save only he, did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He only, in general honest thought and common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements so mixed in him that nature might stand up and say to all the world 'This was a man!'

He does seem to come to an understanding of the wrong that has been done:
"Do not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for."
"You have done that you should be sorry for."
Act IV, iii, 63
Not only does Brutus allow Anthony to speak at the funeral,he makes a further error in judgement in allowing him to speak last. He is all to trusting.
The tragedy of  Brutus is that he was too noble to be adept at politics.
 
Mark Anthony might be considered a sort of tragic hero, except for the fact that he is one of the few left breathing at the end of the play. Tragedies, in Shakespeare, leave us unhappy. Caesar's death is avenged, but Rome has lost her noblest citizens. The fact that Brutus is not shamed, and will be afforded all respect and honors at his burial does little to comfort us in our loss of a truly great man.

Shakespeare's point:
A more interesting question is what is Shakespeare saying about power, rule, and law? We find Brutus impunging motives to Ceasar and justifying assainiation for the common good of Rome. The result is that Rome is plunged into civil war, and countless senators die. Isn't tyrany better than choas? The French Revolution would be a case in point. However loyal, noble and clever Anthony appears to be, Caesar would not be proud of a subject so willing to create chaos and disorder as portrayed in Anthony's soliloquy, when he states: "Mischief, thou art afoot, take thou what course thou wilt"(Act III, ii, lines 26o). Anthony's mischief proves to be a unifying force. Society demands order and rule; order and rule require a ruler. Whether it be a tyrannical dictator or a democratic assembly of nobles, the need for a unifying force is pertinent to a successful society. Caesar was destined to become king and found an empire in Rome.  It is ironic that although Caesar was murdered in the flesh, the spirit of Caesar  surivived, which resulted in an empire born under Octavius and Anthony in the spirit and name of Caesar.

 
Much Ado About Nothing

The play is a comedy of errors, although it contains a dark element in the form of Don John. One sympathizes with him to some extent in that he has to bear the sins of his father through the social stigmatism of being a bastard son. He is silent  for the most part, which gives him a sort of brooding air. At the opening of the play we are struck by the almost excessive politeness of both Leonato and Don Pedro. Leonato makes it seem as though having troops at his home for a month is something for which he has hoped; he eagerly anticipates hosting the men, and would in fact lose his smile were they to deprive him of their prescence.  Anyone who has had guests for more than a week suspects he is less than truthful. By contrast, Don John is socially rebellious and rude. "I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all..." This suggests that his ill humour is due in part to the fact that he will never fit into the society to which he has been born. He reminds us to some extent of Shylock, for he bears similar injustices due to circumstance of his birth which are out of his control. He can  no more help the fact that he is a bastard than Shylock could have avoided being Jewish. It is Don John and his manipulations that give the comedy it's dark, forboding feel.
One other point of interest: Leonato comments at the opening of the play, "How much better it is to weep at joy than joy at weeping." Don John seems to delight in the misfortunes of others. There is that part of him which suggests that he would matters were otherwise, and for this we pity him to some extent.  He would like to enjoy the same sort of friendship and respect that exists between Claudio and Don Pedro. "That young start-up has all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him anyway, I bless myself every way."

Themes: Gossip, Social Norms, Infidelity
Romantic love, familial love and obligation, platonic love

Gossip:
Much Ado About Nothing is a comedy about miscommunication and gossip. The title alone suggests this. The word "nothing" would actually have been pronounced "noting" in Shakespeare's time, and he makes wonderful word plays on this.  It is because few  note what is actually happening that misunderstanding result, making much out of nothing. Claudio asks, "Didst thou note the daughter of Leonato?" to which Benedick replies. "I noted her not, but I looked on her." He then begins to make jokes about her appearance. It is an interesting exchange because Claudio claims to have noted her, but has really only seen her, that is appreciated her on the surface level. Benedick knows the difference. He admits to not having noted her, but then assaults her appearance. Anyone can take in the superficial qualities of another at a glance. One cannot love another, appreciating the good found in them, at a glance. Claudio, who apparently trusts his senses implicitely without any appeal to the use of reason, may not be capable of "noting" anything until at the end he finally does note Hero in the guise of her cousin. Once Hero has been won, and the two plan to marry, Claudio says, "Silence is the perfectest herald of joy." Seen in the context of the play, these are possibly the wisest words Claudio has ever spoken, but unfortunately, he doesn't note them. Had people spoken less, none of this would have happened.  On one other occasion, Claudio speaks a great line which sums up the play and the theme of gossip and its effects: "O what men dare, what men may do! what men daily do not knowing what they do!"
 As an aside, it is indicative of the shallowness of their relationship that once won, neither have a thing to say to each other.
Bendick and Beatice, on the other hand, note everything that does not have a direct bearing on themselves. In their own case, they appear to be blind, but then, isn't love always a bit blind?  Leonato comments on this when he says, "Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly." (This is also a sort of  a backhanded compliment because there is a sort of reference to shrewishnes in the word play as well. Earlier Leonata had said Beatrice would never marry "if thou be so shrewd of tongue.")
Fr. Francis is one of the few who notes things and discerns the truth by doing so. He notes Hero's reaction to the charge of infidelity and is thereby convinced of the truth. He "plays God" by arranging for her death, and Claudio resurects her through his sacrifice of marrying Hero's cousin.

There are further word plays on the noting, for there are many references to music (the playing of notes). Don Pedro says, "I will teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner." He will teach them to make note of things, and so restore order. Later on Balthasar makes the connection even stronger: " Because you talk of wooing, I will sing:...Note this before my notes; there's not a note of mine that's worth noting."

Miscommunications are rampant. Don Pedro is overheard by two persons, but only one of them hears and understands. This leads to all sorts of misunderstanding, but the most interesting is Claudio. He readily believes his good friend will play him false. One wonders if Claudio has any real relationships or has ever known trust.  Claudio has a similar reaction when he believes Hero to be unfaithful, but in that instance we can forgive him. He barely knows her, although he could probably pick her out in a line up. He seems to have fallen for the appearance of virtue...or appearance alone, and takes no time at all to see anything deeper.
Benedick and Beatrice are both deceived by what they hear, while Claudio and Don Pedro are deceived by both what they hear and see. The senses cannot be trusted. It is not until various persons take the time to make a note, to write down, all that has been happening that matters are righted. Even in the case of Benedick and Beatrice, as they are on the point of marrying and declaring their love, they miscommunicate, resulting in misunderstandings which threatens their relationship. It's only through their written words, produced by Claudio and Hero, that they recognize they do indeed love each other.
Dogberry is especially helpful to the plot by showing us, by his own words, just how confusing speech can be. He is also the one who insists on a written report, probably because he's used to having to sift through his own muddled thoughts and expressions and knows the benefit of the written word.

Infidelity:
Both Leonato and Benedick express the fear that men have with regard to infidelity. Where children are involved, there is never any doubt who the mother is. Men, on the other hand, can never be certain of their paternity (this is before the days of test tubes and DNA). Leonato hints at this theme at the outset: "I think this is your daughter." "Her mother hath many times told me so." Benedick prefers to remain a bachelor than to chance wearing the "bull's horns", which is the mark of a cuckold husband. These references prepare us for Claudio's reaction to Hero's apparent infidelity.


Romantic love:
Hero and Claudio represent romantic love, although, again, it is so unreasonable and almost impersonal, it is hard to find it at all believable. Hero is at first willing to accept Don Pedro, but readily agrees to Claudio in his stead. She seems more interested in pleasing her father and being obedient than in matrimonial happiness. Claudio is equally detached. He claims to love Hero, but easily dismisses her, first when he believes Don Pedro to be wooing for himself, and later when he agrees to marry Hero's cousin by way of atonement. It is interesting to note that it is only then that Claudio seems to really see Hero for herself. He cries out, "Another Hero!" to which she responds, "Nothing certainer."  which is again a play on the words "noting" and "nothing." Claudio has apparently learned to look a little deeper.

Benedick and Beatrice both have a dim view of marriage. Beatrice: "Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a peice of valiant dust?" The use of "overmastered" suggests that she fears tyranny rather than submission in principle, which explains why  she would be willing to marry Benedick later on in the play.  She appreciates the merit of man, for she does not want a boy who could be easily mastered. "What should I do with him" dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting gentlewoman?...he that hath no beard is less than a man...and he that is less than a man, I am not for him." She recognizes the equal dignity of man and woman: "Adam's sons are my brethren," and refuses to settle for any relationship that does not respect this. "Contempt farewell, and maiden pride, adieu! No glory lives behind the back of such. And benedick, love on; I will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand.." This passage supports the notion that Beatrice sees the good of marriage and wishes this for herself. She will happily submit to a loving hand. It is interesting to note that Benedick shaves his beard when he begins to woo Beatrice: he is a man, for he has the ability to grow a beard, but he shaves it off for her, who has already said she " could not endure a husband with a beard on his face."

Benedick fears the threat to his honor. He does not want to trust his honor to a woman who, through her unfaithfuness, can cause him to have to wear the "bulls' horns". On the other hand, both see good in matrimony and urge Don Pedro to find himself a wife.
"Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably." This is one of the best lines in the play. It suggests that they are  among the few who approach matters of the heart without the rose-colored glasses. They cannot woo peaceably because they are not willing to blind themselves to the other's faults. This will undoubtedly cause some strife. It does not impede their ability to love.  When Benedick asks Beatrice if she loves him she responds, "Why no. No more than reason."  He feels similarly. Real love does involve reason and an appreciation of the good we find in others. Beatrice is not a silly girl who will happily fall for anyone who gives her a second glance, as opposed to Hero, for whom that is apparently the only criteria.  She has more self-respect than that, and for good reason. She and Benedict battle with wits, and Beatrice is the victor.  She and Benedick have much in common. They both lay clain to cold hearts, which points more to the tendency in both to rely upon their head more than their hearts.
Platonic love:
Friendship is exemplified by Claudio, Benedick and Don Pedro. The deceit Claudio believes Don Pedro of is forgiven among good friends because "Friendship is constant in all other things save in the office and affairs of love..." Beatrice insists that this friendship be subservient to the friendship between lovers when she requires Benedick to prove his love for her by killing Claudio.

Deceit:
Don Pedro and Claudio are deceived by Don John through Borachio and Margaret.  Margaret, in her turn, is deceived by Borachio, who is simply using her. Benedick is deceived by Claudio and Don Pedro; Beatrice by Ursula and Hero.
One interesting scene occurs between Beatrice and Benedick. She fails to recognize him beneath his mask and tells him Benedick is the Prince's jester. Later, in retelling the tale, which has stung him to the quick, Benedick who has removed his mask and revealed himself, acts out the events and becomes what Beatrice called him.

 

Hamlet

Themes:
Madness:  Hamlet determines to "put an antic disposition on" (1.5.172); in other words, that he will act mad.  We know he is acting, because he is not always mad, and tells Rosencrantz et al that he "knows a hawk from a handsaw." (2.2.387) Hamlet always appears mad before those characters from whom he has something to fear - Claudius, Gertrude, Polonius, and even  Ophelia, after she has been reduced to the role of bait for Hamlet. He is buying time in order to avange his father. (That is not his only grievance: In a later letter to Horatio, he accuses Claudius of the murder of his father, the whoredom of his mother, and having "popped between the election and my hopes" (5.2.65)).
There is only one time when Hamlet's actions suggest that he may be mad. He has just left the chapel, deciding against kiling Claudius as it would only send him directly to heaven. (We might excuse his hate given the information he has had from his father: The ghost cries that he was killed before he could repent of his own sins, "sent to my account with all my imperfections on my head" (1.5.70ish, meaning that he cannot go to heaven.) Hamlet berates his mother for her conduct, hears a noise, which he cannot imagine is Claudius (having just left him) and whom he must suspect if Polonius. He claims it is a rat, stabbing through the tapestry. That's one tall rat, for his sword fatally injures Polonius. Hamlet had no real motive to kill Polonius, although Polonius did conspire against him to some extent. In this, Polonius was protecting his daughter whom he feared Hamlet was merely trifling with. This act of Hamlets suggests that he is losing control. Hamlet describes his deed as "almost as bad, good Mother,  as  kill a king, and marry with his brother" (3.4.29-30). This points to complicity on the part of  Gertrude, for between her and Claudius only she can marry the king's brother. Hamlet couples the marrying with the killing, each action having the same implied subject.  The fact that Gertrude cannot see the ghost could also be taken as evidence of Hamlet's madness. Earlier apparitions were seen first by Hamlet's men, then by him. Why is it that Gertrude cannot see her former husband? It is significant, that the characters that can see the ghost are the same characters that see Hamlet in control of his faculties. Gertrude, meanwhile, is one of the characters for whom Hamlet puts on his "antic disposition." Perhaps the ghost appears  only to those who would be sympathetic to his plea for revenge. On the other hand, Hamlet's father expressly told Hamlet to leave his mother to God's justice, as if her actions were less culpable. Even in this somewhat questionable instance, Hamlet tells his mother he is not mad, but mad in craft. (3.4.188-189).

Ophelia also goes mad, but her madness is both like and unlike Hamlet's. Both are occasioned by the death of their fathers, but Ophelia's is completely without deliberation or craft.


Manipulations vs. Direct Action
This theme is introduced in Polonius's desire to "by indirections, find directions out" (2.1.66), regarding Laertes's activities in France. Indirection is the method by which each of the principal characters pursues his end. Hamlet uses the play to "catch the conscience of the King" (2.2.617). (It is interesting that the word of his father is not enough for Hamlet. He wants confirmation before he acts, and he doesn't trust himself to be objective about it. He instructs Horatio to watch the king closely. These precautions give us cause for saying Hamlet would have made a good king. In this most personal of grievances, Hamlet does employ prudence and seek justice.) Polonius uses Reynaldo to spy upon Laertes, and Ophelia to spy upon Hamlet, and Claudius uses Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to spy on Hamlet. Laertes, who initially seems inclined to direct action when he confronts Claudius over the death of his father, is eventually drawn into manipulations as well, when he agrees to conspire with Claudius in an attempt to murder Hamlet. The obvious contrast to the manipulations and back-stabbing of the Danish court is the behavior of Fortinbras, the Norwegian prince, who takes direct action by invading Denmark and taking the throne at the end of the play. Even Fortinbras, however, employs some indirection, since he uses the invasion of Poland as a pretext to get his forces in the field so that he may then invade Denmark.
Neither Hamlet nor the king can reasonably act openly. Hamlet finally does, but only after the king has been shown to be the treacherous scamp that he is.

Appearance vs. Reality: Hamlet realizes early on that "one may smile, and smile, and be a villain" (1.5.108). He uses the appearance of madness to hide the reality of his desire for revenge. This theme ties in nicely with that of the supernatural since, with each case, what is real must be separated from what merely appears to be real.  The ghost tells the story of his murder after decrying the manner in which "that adulterate beast won to his shameful lust the will of my most seeming virtuous queen" (1.5.45-46). "Seeming virtuous" is a key phrase, echoed by Hamlet:  "Seems, madam? Nay, it is. I know not 'seems'" (1.2.76). "Seeming" is a recurrent theme in this play: Claudius "seems" a reasonable man and turns out to be a murderer. Hamlet claims to "know not seems," but puts on "an antic disposition" in order to buy time to set his own schemes in motion. Laertes seems honorable, but is easily manipulated into taking part in murder. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seem to be Hamlet's friends, but are in reality  spies. Gertrude's role in the death of King Hamlet is not clear, though Hamlet suggests her involvement and King Hamlet supports this when he says, "Leave her to heaven and to those thorns that in her bosom lodge to prick and sting her" (1.5.75 ish). The only characters in the play who consistently are what they seem to be are Fortinbras and Horatio: Fortinbras is the unabashed enemy of Denmark, and Horatio is Hamlet's faithful friend. These two are the only main characters still alive at the end.

 Revenge: Hamlet hopes to avenge the death of his father (among other things), Fortinbras hopes to avenge his father(who suff