Nick took me to see Much Ado About Nothing for my birthday, and I spent the rest of the night thinking about how weird it must have been to suddenly switch into Shakespearean speak and iambic pentameter when I realized that I've totally done that before.
In my Shakespeare's Tragedies and Romances class, we were given two choices for our final. We could either write an essay or write a deleted scene for one of the plays we read. I chose to write a final scene for The Winter's Tale, where Perdita finds out about what happened to her mom and then runs off to elope without her crazy family.
I'm not going to stick you with all ten pages of it, so here is an excerpt:
PERDITA: ‘Tis most strange, his sudden leave-taking.
Mayhaps I was the cause behind such times
he cares not yet to summon memory.
HERMIONE: Think not such thoughts. Thy presence has brought
naught
but joy.
FLORIZEL: There is much good sense in what thy
mother spake. I see not how any bad
can come from thee. Thy body is filled with
such grace, there be little space for evil.
PERDITA: If I bring not bad memories, wherefore
did his mood turn foul? It seems I am like
the red rose, such grace and charm in petals,
yet hidden ‘neathe are thorns that bruise and make
mortal fingers bleed.
HERMONE:
This comes from my lips
as unwilling as birdlime from the poor
feathered creature’s foot, yet I am trapped and
must sing out the truth and thou can hear the
true sweet melody of they natural
goodness. When I carried thee in the womb,
they father did think ‘twas Polixenes
that made me swell thus.
FLORIZEL: T’would be but folly!
HERMIONE: Aye, yet t’is true. His jealousy drove out
his senses, driving him to grave measures.
Even when the oracle proclaimed my
innocence, he remained convinced that I
had transformed him into a cuckold. To
rid himself of those hateful horns, he sent
me away to jail and ordered that thou
wouldst be left to some remote and desert
place. Thy poor brother did suffer so and
perished from the toils of the event.
PERDITA: By my fay!
HERMIONE:
Judge not thy father harshly,
For ‘twas not him that did these deeds, but a
monster that did take the form of him. These
events are all passed. Let us move forward.
I must stand beside him and assist him.
Exeunt Hermione.
PERDITA: Forsooth, my past is filled with much darkness
and woe. To think on how much mine mother
and brother hath suffered at the hand of
the King tortures my thoughts.
FLORIZEL: The Queen doth seems
to have forgiven him. Can you not grant
him that blessing anon?
PERDITA:
Wouldst thou forgive
a man that hath torn they family asunder?
It is more than I can bear to have this
man be near me the day of our union.
FLORIZEL: (aside)
If I keep this side, the only ring I
shall see is the one I wrap around her
dainty finger upon our wedding day.
(To Perdita) Fret
not, my dear Perdita, we have run
away to be together without some
quarrelsome father once and we shall do’t
again. We shall go back to Bohemia
and marry on the spot where mine eyeball
first come across thy shape whilst thou went to
tend to the fields and the sun lit up thy
face and set thy features ablaze and thus
astounded me so that I thought I was
looking upon some virgin goddess. Let
us steal away from this place. I shall find
a ship and crew to hire and we shall
take our leave this very day. And, mayhaps,
leave a note for thy mother that she may
not worry when we are found to be gone.
PERDITA: Aye, ‘tis a noble idea. The farmland
I once felt so out of place in now sounds
like a haven to me.
FLORIZEL: I
shall set to
work now or the gap we make in time will
be brought to the attention of the king.
I shall not be long. Soon we will set sail.
Exeunt Florizel
PERDITA: Could it be that the jealous fury which
boiled his blood could surge through mine own veins?
Aye, there is no cure for’t. The heartache which
has left my mother beats within myself.
To raise children in a land full of such
villainous times is a though I cannot
linger on. Though this be my true home, I
shall not be happy here. Must I go? T’would
be simple to stay and make false faces of
joy amongst those of real. No man could pick
mine out as separate in a sea of
people. I could stay and try to make do
with what I know and learn to live with it
and transcend it. I am not as strong as
others who know the tale and can live with
knowledge of’t. ‘Tis
but a dream made of
nothing, made of thin air. Any fool could
make something of nothing, it is a better
person who couldst make something of something.
It is real and solid. No, I must leave
and search for places new where I may start
a safe life. My dear mother, it pains me
to leave you so soon after we have just
met, but I must. With his blood in me, the
King already has too much flowing
influence. In his presence, it can only
grow worse still. If you had but nursed me in
my youth, there may be some balance. But, alas,
‘tis too late for such hope.
Exeunt Perdita
Basically, my professor's only real comment was that he thought Florizel was too stately to make a sexual innuendo, but c'mon, it's Shakespeare. There has to be at least one.
I promise I will be much less boring next week.
much love,
hedgie
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