Excluded from the study of staging have been many scenes which depend primarily upon acting. In these scenes, which make up large segments of the plays, the qualities of clear speech and passionate action play the major part. A discussion of their staging would be fruitless because the method of staging them has little influence upon the final effect. Most numerous among these scenes are those devoted to plotting, singing, word-play, commentary upon character or situation, railing against another, and pleading. Scenes of mocking and loving follow closely behind these.
Among these scenes are some of the greatest expressions of Shakespeare’s dramatic powers. For example, there are twenty pleading episodes in Shakespeare’s Globe plays. This score includes Portia’s plea to Brutus for confidence (Julius Caesar, II, i), Isabella’s plea to Angelo for Claudio’s life (Measure for Measure, II, ii), and perhaps the finest example of all, Volumnia’s plea to Coriolanus for Rome’s salvation (V, iii). But few of these derive their powers from elements of staging. Where they are located on-stage does not matter much, for they create an environment of their own. Yet scenes such as these need dimension. If the actors kneel and plead, they need scope to do so. That is why it is hazardous to depart from the conditions of the open platform in reconstructing the staging.
The handling of entrance and exit and the representation of the conventional devices and scenes provide the framework of the staging. Interwoven and interpolated are those scenes which rely not on formal presentation but on spontaneous action. These are the scenes which, through the intensity of their poetic conception, the penetration of their observation, or the keenness of their wit, illuminate the stage. But no sharp distinction exists between the conventional device and the spontaneous action. They both spring from the need to sustain and perfect an extended narrative.
V. THE STAGING OF THE FINALES
The art of staging in the Elizabethan theater reaches its culmination in the ritualistic finale which usually brings the narrative to a close. The dramatic nature of the finale has been fully discussed in [Chapter Two]. Its theatrical execution may fittingly conclude this chapter.
Most of the finales depict a sequence of action foreknown to the audience but not to the figure or figures central to the action. This fact contributes greatly to the ritualistic impression of the finale. Thematically, the finale completes the process of rendering judgment and rewarding faithfulness or love. This process is elaborately and meticulously worked out so that all possible complications of the narrative are unraveled.
Theatrically, it is accomplished in one of two ways. The final “mystery” is solved with the ranking person usually directing the process (All’s Well, Twelfth Night, Measure for Measure), or a final conflict takes place between a figure rendering judgment, a champion, as in Lear, and a figure receiving judgment. Thus, pictorially, there can be one of three centers of focus: the judge, the combat, the revealed mystery. In some cases the rendering of judgment is effected by the central character upon himself, as in Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, and Othello. Othello, who has been touched by Christian morality, is conscious of rendering self-judgment. Brutus and Cleopatra, instead, commit suicide in the high Roman fashion.
About two-thirds of the finales begin with only one or two characters on stage who set the conditions for the finale (Antony and Cleopatra, Twelfth Night, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Othello, and so on). Once the basic premises are assured, the essential action takes place. In Twelfth Night it centers about the contradictory accusations against Viola. In Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra, Brutus and Cleopatra probe the necessity for death and direct the preparations for suicide, the latter more elaborately than the former, of course. The finales of Measure for Measure and All’s Well follow a similar pattern: a ruler seeks the answer to a mystery by holding a hearing.
All concluding dramatic situations have a courtly or martial formality, except for the finales of Merry Wives, Othello, and Troilus and Cressida. The finales of Hamlet, All’s Well, Measure for Measure, As You Like It, Twelfth Night, and Antony and Cleopatra reveal a courtly formality of one sort or another. In these scenes the subordinate figures are grouped in relation to the sovereign. This fact alone favors symmetrical balance in the design. For example, the King in All’s Well, after first welcoming Bertram, is prompted by seeing Helen’s ring on his finger to question the manner of her death. All action is related to the King. Probably standing at center, he receives and dismisses Bertram from one door and receives Diana from the other. In Hamlet, the duel is the focal action of the scene. The placement of the King and Queen, however, dictates the grouping of the court. The stage directions specify that a table with flagons of wine upon it is brought in (Hamlet, V, ii, 235f.). The stage direction in the Quarto of 1604 calls for “cushions” which may have been placed on the stools (Sig. N3v). But apparently no state is introduced. Therefore, the King and Queen probably stand or possibly sit in the center, well enough downstage to be easily seen, the duelists fight before them, and the court is grouped behind them. Until the entrance of Fortinbras, the only speakers are the King, Queen, Hamlet, Laertes, Osric, and, briefly, Horatio, who speaks once when Hamlet is wounded and once when Hamlet is dying. Even this résumé does not convey any idea of the actual sequence of the speeches. No more than two or three people speak in any one part of the scene. The members of the court, placed at the sides and the rear of the stage, are called upon only once to cry “Treason, treason.” Otherwise they are virtually ignored. Earlier in this chapter I outlined the finale of As You Like It in the same way, to show the division of the scene into episodes of twos and threes. To formalize the grouping, Shakespeare introduced Duke Senior into all the episodes, thus using him as a point of reference.
Where martial conditions prevail at the conclusion, the grouping is governed by the presence of the triumphant general or prince. Malcolm, hailed as King of Scotland, is ringed about by his thanes. At first Alcibiades is engaged in a parley with the Athenian Senators, but when they leave the walls, he is left completely alone. In Julius Caesar the opposite happens, for the defeated leader is the center of interest. One by one, Brutus approaches the remnants of his supporters, who are ranged about him, to persuade one of them to slay him. Finally, the last man gratifies his wish. Even when the conquering generals enter, his body remains the center of attention, thanks to Antony’s eulogy.