Drama (1)

wordfile

1. CONTENTS

Doctor Faustus ( pub 1604)
Hamlet (1601-1602)
Twelfth Night, or What You Will (1601- 1602)
The Tempest (1610–1611)
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar (1599)
The Duchess of Malfi (1614) published 1623
The Way of the World (1700)
The School For Scandal (1777)
The Importance of Being Earnest (1895)
Murder in the Cathedral (1935)
Pygmalion 1913
Riders to the Sea 1904
Waiting for Godot (pub.1954, perf. 1955)
En attendant Godot ( pub 1952. perf.1953)
The Birthday Party (1957)
Lear (1971)





Christopher Marlowe (1564 –1593)
• English playwright, poet and translator of the Elizabethan era.
• Marlowe was the foremost Elizabethan tragedian of his day.
• He greatly influenced William Shakespeare, who was born in the same year as Marlowe and
who rose to become the pre-eminent Elizabethan playwright after Marlowe's mysterious
early death.
• Marlowe's plays are known for the use of blank verse and their overreaching protagonists.

2. • A warrant was issued for Marlowe's arrest on 18 May 1593. No reason was given for it,
though it was thought to be connected to allegations of blasphemy—a manuscript believed to
have been written by Marlowe was said to contain "vile heretical conceipts".
• On 20 May he was brought to the court to attend upon the Privy Council for questioning.
There is no record of their having met that day, however, and he was commanded to attend
upon them each day thereafter until "licensed to the contrary." Ten days later, he was stabbed
to death by Ingram Frizer. Whether the stabbing was connected to his arrest has never been
resolved.
• Marlowe attended The King's School in Canterbury (where a house is now named after him)
and Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, where he studied on a scholarship and received his
Bachelor of Arts degree in 1584.
• In 1587 the university hesitated to award him his Master of Arts degree because of a rumour
that he intended to go to the English college at Rheims, presumably to prepare for ordination
as a Roman Catholic priest.
• However, his degree was awarded on schedule when the Privy Council intervened on his
behalf, commending him for his "faithful dealing" and "good service" to the Queen.
• The nature of Marlowe's service was not specified by the Council, but its letter to the
Cambridge authorities has provoked much speculation, notably the theory that Marlowe was
operating as a secret agent working for Sir Francis Walsingham‘s intelligence service. No
direct evidence supports this theory, although the Council's letter is evidence that Marlowe
had served the government in some secret capacity.
Literary career
• Of the dramas attributed to Marlowe, Dido, Queen of Carthage is believed to have been his
first. It was performed by the Children of the Chapel, a company of boy actors, between 1587
and 1593. The play was first published in 1594; the title page attributes the play to Marlowe
and Thomas Nashe.
• Marlowe's first play performed on the regular stage in London, in 1587, was Tamburlaine
the Great, about the conqueror Tamburlaine, who rises from shepherd to war-lord. It is
among the first English plays in blank verse,
[7]
and, with Thomas Kyd's The Spanish
Tragedy, generally is considered the beginning of the mature phase of the Elizabethan
theatre. Tamburlaine was a success, and was followed with Tamburlaine the Great, Part II.
• The two parts of Tamburlaine were published in 1590; all Marlowe's other works were
published posthumously. The sequence of the writing of his other four plays is unknown; all
deal with controversial themes.

3. • The Jew of Malta (first published as The Famous Tragedy of the Rich Jew of Malta), about a
Maltese Jew's barbarous revenge against the city authorities, has a prologue delivered by a
character representing Machiavelli. It was probably written in 1589 or 1590, and was first
performed in 1592. It was a success, and remained popular for the next fifty years. The play
was entered in the Stationers' Registeron 17 May 1594, but the earliest surviving printed
edition is from 1633.
• Edward the Second is an English history play about the deposition of King Edward II by his
barons and the Queen, who resent the undue influence the king's favourites have in court and
state affairs. The play was entered into the Stationers' Register on 6 July 1593, five weeks
after Marlowe's death. The full title of the earliest extant edition, of 1594, is The troublesome
reigne and lamentable death of Edward the second, King of England, with the tragicall fall
of proud Mortimer.
• The Massacre at Paris is a short and luridly written work, the only surviving text of which
was probably a reconstruction from memory of the original performance text,
[8]
portraying
the events of the Saint Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572, which English Protestants
invoked as the blackest example of Catholic treachery. It features the silent "English Agent",
whom subsequent tradition has identified with Marlowe himself and his connections to the
secret service.
[9]
The Massacre at Paris is considered his most dangerous play, as agitators in
London seized on its theme to advocate the murders of refugees from the low countries and,
indeed, it warns Elizabeth I of this possibility in its last scene.
[10][11]
Its full title was The
Massacre at Paris: With the Death of the Duke of Guise.
• Doctor Faustus (or The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus),
[12]
based
on the German Faustbuch, was the first dramatised version of the Faust legend of a scholar's
dealing with the devil. While versions of "The Devil's Pact" can be traced back to the 4th
century, Marlowe deviates significantly by having his hero unable to "burn his books" or
repent to a merciful God in order to have his contract annulled at the end of the play.
Marlowe's protagonist is instead carried off by demons, and in the 1616 quarto his mangled
corpse is found by several scholars.
• Doctor Faustus is a textual problem for scholars as two versions of the play exist: the
1604 quarto, also known as the A text, and the 1616 quarto or B text. Both were published
after Marlowe's death. Scholars have disagreed which text is more representative of
Marlowe's original, and some editions are based on a combination of the two. The latest
scholarly consensus (as of the late 20th century) holds the A text is more representative
because it contains irregular character names and idiosyncratic spelling, which are believed
to reflect a text based on the author's handwritten manuscript, or "foul papers." The B text, in
comparison, was highly edited, censored because of shifting theatre laws regarding religious

4. words onstage, and contains several additional scenes which scholars believe to be the
additions of other playwrights, particularly Samuel Rowley and William Bird (alias Borne).
• Marlowe's plays were enormously successful, thanks in part, no doubt, to the imposing stage
presence of Edward Alleyn. Alleyn was unusually tall for the time, and the haughty roles of
Tamburlaine, Faustus, and Barabas were probably written especially for him. Marlowe's
plays were the foundation of the repertoire of Alleyn's company, the Admiral's Men,
throughout the 1590s.
• Marlowe also wrote the poem Hero and Leander (published in 1598, and with a continuation
by George Chapman the same year), the popular lyric "The Passionate Shepherd to His
Love", and translations of Ovid's Amores and the first book of Lucan's Pharsalia. In 1599,
his translation of Ovid was banned and copies publicly burned as part of Archbishop
Whitgift's crackdown on offensive material.
Reputation among contemporary writers
• Whatever the particular focus of modern critics, biographers and novelists, for his
contemporaries in the literary world, Marlowe was above all an admired and influential artist.
• Within weeks of his death, George Peele remembered him as "Marley, the Muses'
darling"; Michael Drayton noted that he "Had in him those brave translunary things / That
the first poets had", and Ben Jonson wrote of "Marlowe's mighty line".
• Thomas Nashe wrote warmly of his friend, "poor deceased Kit Marlowe". So too did the
publisher Edward Blount, in the dedication of Hero and Leander to Sir Thomas Walsingham.
• Among the few contemporary dramatists to say anything negative about Marlowe was the
anonymous author of the Cambridge University play The Return From Parnassus(1598) who
wrote, "Pity it is that wit so ill should dwell, / Wit lent from heaven, but vices sent from
hell."
• The most famous tribute to Marlowe was paid by Shakespeare in As You Like It, where he
not only quotes a line from Hero and Leander ("Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might,
'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?'") but also gives to the clown Touchstone the
words "When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the
forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little
room."
• This appears to be a reference to Marlowe's murder which involved a fight over the
"reckoning", the bill, as well as to a line in Marlowe's Jew of Malta – "Infinite riches in a
little room".
• Shakespeare was heavily influenced by Marlowe in his work, as can be seen in the re-using
of Marlovian themes in Antony and Cleopatra, The Merchant of Venice, Richard II,
and Macbeth (Dido, Jew of Malta, Edward II and Dr Faustus respectively).
• In Hamlet, after meeting with the travelling actors, Hamlet requests the Player perform a
speech about the Trojan War, which at 2.2.429–32 has an echo of Marlowe's Dido, Queen of
Carthage.

5. • In Love's Labour's Lost Shakespeare brings on a character "Marcade" (three syllables) in
conscious acknowledgement of Marlowe's character "Mercury", also attending the King of
Navarre, in Massacre at Paris. The significance, to those of Shakespeare's audience who had
read Hero and Leander, was Marlowe's identification of himself with the god Mercury.
Plays
• Dido, Queen of Carthage (c. 1586) (possibly co-written with Thomas Nashe)
• Tamburlaine, part 1 (c. 1587)
• Tamburlaine, part 2 (c. 1587–1588)
• The Jew of Malta (c. 1589)
• Doctor Faustus (c. 1589, or, c. 1593)
• Edward II (c. 1592)
• The Massacre at Paris (c. 1593)
• The play Lust's Dominion was attributed to Marlowe upon its initial publication in 1657,
though scholars and critics have almost unanimously rejected the attribution.
Poetry
• Translation of Book One of Lucan's Pharsalia (date unknown)
• Translation of Ovid's Elegies (c. 1580s?)
• "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" (pre-1593)
• Hero and Leander
Fictional works about Marlowe
• Wilbur G. Zeigler's novel It was Marlowe (1895) was the first book to argue that Marlowe's
death was faked.
• Leo Rost's Marlowe (1981), was an American rock musical staged on Broadway.
• Peter Whelan's play The School of Night (1992), about Marlowe's links to the freethinking
"school of night" and the young Shakespeare, was performed by the Royal Shakespeare
Company in Stratford-upon-Avon.
• Anthony Burgess's A Dead Man in Deptford (1993), an imaginative treatment of Marlowe's
death, was the last of Burgess's novels to be published in his lifetime.
• Louise Welsh's 2004 novel Tamburlaine Must Die
Doctor Faustus
• The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus, commonly referred to
simply as Doctor Faustus, is a play byChristopher Marlowe, based on the German
story Faust, in which a man sells his soul to the devil for power, experience, pleasure and
knowledge.
• Doctor Faustus was first published in 1604, eleven years after Marlowe's death and at
least 10 years after the first performance of the play.
• It is the most controversial Elizabethan play outside of Shakespeare, with few critics
coming to any agreement as to the date or the nature of the text.

6. The two versions
Two versions of the play exist:
• The 1604 quarto, printed by Valentine Simmes for Thomas Law; this is usually called the
A text. The title page attributes the play to "Ch. Marl.". A second edition (A2) in 1609,
printed by George Eld for John Wright, is merely a reprint of the 1604 text. The text is
short for an English Renaissance play, only 1485 lines long.
• The 1616 quarto, published by John Wright, the enlarged and altered text; usually called
the B text. This second text was reprinted in 1619, 1620, 1624, 1631, and as late as 1663.
Additions and alterations were made by the minor playwright and actor Samuel
Rowley and by William Borne (or Bird, or Boyle), and possibly by Marlowe himself.
• The 1604 version was once believed to be closer to the play as originally performed in
Marlowe's lifetime, simply because it was older. By the 1940s, after influential studies
by Leo Kirschbaum and W. W. Greg, the 1604 version came to be regarded as an
abbreviation and the 1616 version as Marlowe's original fuller version. Kirschbaum and
Greg considered the A-text a "bad quarto", and thought that the B-text was linked to
Marlowe himself. Since then scholarship has swung the other way, most scholars now
considering the A-text more authoritative, even if "abbreviated and corrupt", according
to Charles Nicholl.
• The 1616 version omits 36 lines but adds 676 new lines, making it roughly one third
longer than the 1604 version. Among the lines shared by both versions, there are some
small but significant changes in wording; for example, "Never too late, if Faustus can
repent" in the 1604 text becomes "Never too late, if Faustus will repent" in the 1616 text,
a change that offers a very different possibility for Faustus's hope and repentance.
• Another difference between texts A and B is the name of the devil summoned by Faustus.
Text A states the name is generally "Mephastophilis", while the version of text B
commonly states "Mephostophilis" .The name of the devil is in each case a reference to
Mephistopheles in Faustbuch, the source work, which appeared in English translation in
about 1588.
• The relationship between the texts is uncertain and many modern editions print both. As
an Elizabethan playwright, Marlowe had nothing to do with the publication and had no
control over the play in performance, so it was possible for scenes to be dropped or
shortened, or for new scenes to be added, so that the resulting publications may be
modified versions of the original script.


Comic scenes
• In the past, it was assumed that the comic scenes were additions by other writers. However,
most scholars today consider the comic interludes, whoever wrote them, an integral part of
the play.Their tone shows the change in Faustus's ambitions, suggesting Marlowe did oversee
the composition of them.The clown is seen as the archetype for comic relief.

7. Sources
• Doctor Faustus is based on an older tale; it is believed to be the first dramatisation of the
Faust legend.
• Some scholars

believe that Marlowe developed the story from a popular 1592 translation,
commonly called The English Faust Book.
• There is thought to have been an earlier, lost, German edition of 1587, which itself may have
been influenced by even earlier, equally unpreserved pamphlets in Latin, such as those that
likely inspired Jacob Bidermann's treatment of the damnation of the doctor of
Paris,Cenodoxus (1602).
• Several soothsayers or necromancers of the late fifteenth century adopted the name Faustus, a
reference to the Latin for "favoured" or "auspicious"; typical was Georgius Faustus
Helmstetensis, calling himself astrologer and chiromancer, who was expelled from the town
of Ingolstadt for such practices. Subsequent commentators have identified this individual as
the prototypical Faustus of the legend.
• Whatever the inspiration, the development of Marlowe's play is very faithful to the Faust
Book, especially in the way it mixes comedy with tragedy.
• However, Marlowe also introduced some changes to make it more original. He made three
main additions:
• Faustus's soliloquy, in Act 1, on the vanity of human science
• Good and Bad Angels
• The substitution of a Pageant of Devils for The Seven Deadly Sins.
• He also emphasised Faustus' intellectual aspirations and curiosity, and minimised the vices in
the character, to lend a Renaissance aura to the story.
Structure
• The play is in blank verse and prose in thirteen scenes (1604) or twenty scenes (1616).
• Blank verse is largely reserved for the main scenes while prose is used in the comic
scenes. Modern texts divide the play into five acts; act 5 being the shortest. As in many
Elizabethan plays, there is a chorus (which functions as a narrator), that does not interact
with the other characters but rather provides an introduction and conclusion to the play
and, at the beginning of some Acts, introduces events that have unfolded.
• Along with its history and language style, scholars have critiqued and analysed the
structure of the play. Leonard H. Frey wrote a document entitled “In the Opening and

8. Close of Doctor Faustus,” which mainly focuses on Faustus's opening and closing
soliloquies.
• He stresses the importance of the soliloquies in the play, saying: “the soliloquy, perhaps
more than any other dramatic device, involved the audience in an imaginative concern
with the happenings on stage”.
• By having Doctor Faustus deliver these soliloquies at the beginning and end of the play,
the focus is drawn to his inner thoughts and feelings about succumbing to the devil. The
soliloquies have parallel concepts. In the introductory soliloquy, Faustus begins by
pondering the fate of his life and what he wants his career to be. He ends his soliloquy
with the solution and decision to give his soul to the devil.Similarly in the closing
soliloquy, Faustus begins pondering, and finally comes to terms with the fate he created
for himself. Frey also explains: “The whole pattern of this final soliloquy is thus a grim
parody of the opening one, where decision is reached after, not prior to, the survey”
Summary
Chorus
• The chorus announces that this play will not be concerned with war, love, or proud deeds.
Instead, it will present the good and bad fortunes of Dr. John Faustus, who is born of base
stock in Germany and who goes to the University of Wittenberg, where he studies
philosophy and divinity. He so excels in matters of theology that he eventually becomes
swollen with pride, which leads to his downfall. Ultimately, Faustus turns to a study of
necromancy, or magic.
• The technique of the chorus is adapted from the traditions of classic Greek drama. The
chorus functions in several ways throughout the play. It stands outside the direct action of the
play and comments upon various parts of the drama. The chorus speaks directly to the
audience and tells the basic background history of Faustus and explains that the play is to
concern his downfall. The chorus is also used to express the author's views and to remind the
audience of the proper moral to be learned from the play itself. The opening speech of the
chorus functions as a prologue to define the scope of the play.
• The chorus speaks in very formal, rhetorical language and explains that the subject of this
play will not be that which is usually depicted in dramas. Instead of a subject dealing with
love or war, the play will present the history of a scholar. The purpose of this explanation is
that, traditionally, tragedy had dealt with such grand subjects as the history of kings, great
wars, or powerful love affairs. Consequently, Marlowe is preparing the audience for a
departure in subject matter. Most frequently, tragedy is concerned with the downfall of kings,
and Marlowe's tragedy does not fit into this formula since this drama deals with the downfall
of a man of common birth.
• The Icarus image is used in the opening passage to characterize the fall of Faustus. Icarus
was a figure in classical mythology who because of his pride had soared too high in the sky,
had melted his wax wings, and subsequently had fallen to his death. This classical image of

9. the fall of Icarus reinforces the Christian images of the fall of Lucifer brought out in Scene 3.
Both images set the scene for the fall of Dr. Faustus during the course of the drama.
• Another image used by the chorus to describe the situation of Faustus is that of glutting an
appetite by overindulgence. Throughout the play, Faustus is seen as a person of uncontrolled
appetites. His thirst for knowledge and power lead him to make the pact with the devil which
brings about his downfall. The chorus points out the dangers involved in resorting to magic.
It makes clear that Faustus is choosing magic at the danger of his own soul.
Scene 1
• Faustus is alone in his study reviewing his achievements. He concludes that he has attained
preeminence in all fields of intellectual endeavor. He disputes superbly and has mastered all
treatises of logic. He is such a skilled physician that he has saved whole cities from the
plague. He knows all the petty cavils of law but he finds them drudgery. In theology, he takes
two scriptual passages which indicate that all men must eventually die and dismisses them.
After reviewing his achievements, he decides that necromancy is the only world of profit,
delight, power, honor, and omnipotence. He then has Wagner summon Valdes and Cornelius,
who will help him conjure up spirits.
• While Faustus is waiting for the two German scholars, the Good Angel and the Evil Angel
appear. The Good Angel advises him to lay aside the "damned book" of magic and read the
scriptures. The Evil Angel appeals to Faustus' ambitions. Faustus becomes absorbed in a
vision of what he will be able to do by the power of magic.
• When Valdes and Cornelius appear, Faustus welcomes them and tells them that he has
decided to practice magic because he has found philosophy, law, medicine, and divinity to be
unsatisfactory. Valdes assures Faustus that if they work together the whole world will soon
be at their feet. Faustus agrees and tells the two men that he plans to conjure that very night.
Scene 2
• Two scholars come to Wagner to inquire about Faustus. Instead of giving a direct answer,
Wagner uses superficial scholastic logic in order to prove to the two scholars that they should
not have asked the question. After he displays a ridiculous knowledge of disputation, he
finally reveals that Faustus is inside with Valdes and Cornelius. The two scholars then fear
that Faustus has fallen into the practice of magic. They plan to see the Rector to "see if he by
his grave counsel can reclaim" Faustus.
• Essentially, this scene functions as a comic interlude. This type of scene is often called an
"echo scene" because Wagner's actions parody those of Faustus in the previous scene. The
scene also functions as a contrast to the earlier scene in that the same subject is being
presented — the use and misuse of knowledge. Earlier we had seen Faustus alone in his
study displaying his knowledge of logic in order to justify his resorting to black magic. Now
we have a contrast in which Wagner tries to use logic for no other purpose than to try to tell
two scholars where Faustus is at the time.
• Not only is the scene a comic interlude, but it is also a comment on the actions performed by
Faustus.

10. Scene 3
• Faustus decides to try incantation for the first time. He mutters a long passage in Latin which
is composed of passages abjuring the trinity and invoking the aid of the powers of the
underworld. Mephistophilis then appears in a hideous shape, and Faustus tells him that he is
too ugly. He demands that Mephistophilis disappear and return in the shape of a Franciscan
friar. Faustus is elated that he has the power to call up this devil. As soon as Mephistophilis
reappears, Faustus finds that it is not his conjuration which brings forth a devil; a devil will
appear any time that a person abjures the name of the trinity.
• Faustus asks Mephistophilis several questions about Lucifer and learns that he is a fallen
angel who, because of pride and insolence, revolted against God and was cast into hell. When
Faustus begins to inquire about the nature of hell, Mephistophilis answers that hell is
wherever God is not present. Faustus chides Mephistophilis for being so passionate about
being deprived of the joys of heaven, and then sends him back to Lucifer with the proposal
that Faustus will exchange his soul for twenty-four years of unlimited power. After
Mephistophilis leaves, Faustus dreams of all the glorious deeds he will perform with his new
power.
Scene 4
• Wagner accosts the clown and tells him that he realizes that the clown is out of work. He
accuses him of being so desperate that he would sell his soul to the devil for a shoulder of
raw mutton. The clown insists that if he were to make so dangerous a bargain, he would
require that his mutton at least be roasted in a fine sauce. Wagner asks the clown to serve
him for seven years. If the clown refuses, Wagner threatens to have lice tear him to
pieces.
• Wagner gives the clown some French money and warns him that he will have a devil
fetch him within an hour if he doesn't agree to become his servant; Wagner summons
Baliol and Belcher — two devils — who come and frighten the poor clown. Wagner
promises the clown that he will instruct him in how to summon up these devils. The
clown agrees to the bargain but wants to be taught how to turn himself into a flea on a
pretty wench.
Scene 5
• Faustus, alone in his study, tries to bolster his own resolution to forget God and dedicate
himself solely to Lucifer. The Good Angel and the Evil Angel appear. The Good Angel
admonishes Faustus to think on heavenly things, while the Evil Angel emphasizes the value
of power and wealth. Faustus decides to think on wealth and summons Mephistophilis, who
then tells him that Lucifer will agree to the bargain, but it must be signed with Faustus' blood.
Faustus stabs his arm, but as he begins to write, the blood congeals. Mephistophilis rushes to
get some fire in order to make the blood flow. As Faustus begins to write again, an
inscription — "Homo, fuge!" — appears on his arm. Faustus finishes signing the bond and
orders Mephistophilis to deliver it to Lucifer.
• After the bargain has been completed, Faustus begins to ask again about the nature of hell,
but while Mephistophilis is describing hell, Faustus becomes skeptical and refuses to believe
in hell. Then, all of a sudden, Faustus changes the topic of the conversation and tells
Mephistophilis that he wants a wife because he feels wanton and lascivious. Mephistophilis

11. convinces him that he does not want a wife and offers to bring him any courtesan or
paramour that he desires. Before Mephistophilis leaves, Faustus demands three books — one
for incantations and spells, one for knowledge of the planets and the heavens, and one for
understanding plants and animals.
• During this scene, two omens appear to indicate to Faustus that he is in dire danger of
damnation. The first is the fact that his own blood congeals, the second is the inscription
"Homo, fuge!" which appears on his arm. The inscription warns Faustus to flee. He ignores
both of these warnings and continues blindly on his way to damnation by insisting on signing
the pact. Faustus even believes that his senses are deceived by the signs, but it is not his
senses but his reason which is deceived in signing the contract.
Scene 6
• Faustus begins to repent that he has made a contract with the devil. Mephistophilis tries to
console Faustus by telling him that heaven is not such a glorious place and that humans are
more wonderful than anything in heaven. The Good Angel and the Evil Angel appear, and
each tries to influence Faustus' decision. Faustus is haunted by the thought that he is damned.
He thinks that he would have killed himself by now if he had not been able to conjure up
Homer to sing and soothe him. Now he asks Mephistophilis to argue about theoretical
matters. Faustus is not satisfied with the things that Mephistophilis is able to tell him and
maintains that even Wagner knows the answers to such questions. He now wants to know
about the power behind the universe and who made the world. Mephistophilis tries to get him
to think of hell and other things rather than about these heavier philosophical matters.
• Faustus cries out for Christ to save him, and at this moment, Lucifer himself appears. Lucifer
reminds him that he is breaking his promise by thinking on Christ. He tells Faustus that he
has brought some entertainment to divert him.
• The seven deadly sins — pride, covetousness, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, and lechery —
appear before Faustus in the representation of their individual sin or nature. Faustus is
delighted with the show and Lucifer hands him a book and promises to return at midnight.
After everyone leaves, Wagner appears and says that Faustus has gone to Rome to see the
pope.
• t is a highly dramatic moment when Lucifer himself appears on the stage. Faustus maintains
that Lucifer looks extremely ugly, and again the implication is that hell is ugly.
• At the crucial moments when Faustus wavers, the devils always try to divert him in some
sensual manner. When Faustus begins to question Mephistophilis about primeval causes, the
devils try to take his mind off these noble questions and force him to think about carnal
matters. Consequently, in this scene the powers of hell divert Faustus by bringing forth the
seven deadly sins to entertain Faustus and to remove all these troublesome questions from his
mind.
• The appearance of the seven deadly sins is a holdover from the morality plays and becomes
another type of interlude in the play. Furthermore, the manner in which they describe
themselves is somewhat comic. Whereas in a morality play the seven deadly sins would be
paraded before the main character as a warning to abstain from evil, in Doctor Faustus they
are presented to Faustus only to delight and distract him from heavenly thoughts.

12. • The seven deadly sins do have a philosophical significance and do carry forward the
intellectual meaning of the plot, but they also function to appeal to the general audience, who
would find entertainment in the grotesque physical appearance of these awesome creatures.
• Immediately after the appearance of these seven deadly sins, Faustus says "O, this feeds my
soul!"
Scene 7
• Faustus describes the trip over the Alps and the various cities on the way to Rome. After
Mephistophilis tells Faustus that he has arranged to enter the pope's private chamber, he
describes the city of Rome. They prepare to go into the pope's chambers and Mephistophilis
makes Faustus invisible. When the pope and a group of friars enter, Faustus plays tricks on
them by snatching plates and cups from them. Finally, he boxes the pope on the ear. When
the friars who are accompanying the pope begin to sing a dirge to re-move the evil spirit that
seems to be present, Mephistophilis and Faustus begin to beat the friars and fling some
fireworks among them.
• The chorus enters and reviews Faustus' career. When Faustus has seen all the royal courts, he
returns home, where many of his friends seek him out and ask him difficult questions
concerning astrology and the universe. Faustus' knowledge makes him famous all through the
land. Finally the emperor, Carolus the Fifth, asks him to come to his court.
Scene 8
• Robin the ostler enters with a book in his hand and reveals that he has stolen a volume from
Faustus' library. He intends to learn how to conjure in order to make all the maidens in the
village appear before him and dance naked. Rafe (Ralph) enters and tells him that there is a
gentleman waiting to have his horse taken care of. Robin ignores him, saying that he has
more important things to do: he is going to conjure up a devil with his newly stolen book. He
promises to procure the kitchen maid for Ralph, and then they both leave to clean their boots
and continue with the conjuring.
Scene 9
• Robin and Ralph appear with a silver goblet that Robin has apparently taken from a vintner.
Robin is very pleased with this new acquisition, but immediately the vintner appears and
demands that the goblet be returned to him. Robin insists that he does not have the goblet and
allows himself to be searched. The vintner cannot find the goblet.
• Meanwhile, Robin begins to read incantations from Faustus' book. These incantations
summon Mephistophilis, who appears and puts some firecrackers at their backs and then
momentarily disappears. In fright, Robin gives the vintner back his goblet. Mephistophilis
reappears and complains that he has had to come all the way from Constantinople because
these irresponsible servants used incantations without understanding them. He threatens to
change them into an ape and a dog, and then leaves. Robin and Ralph can only think about
how much fun and how much food they might have if transformed into these animals.
Scene 10
• Later at the German court, Emperor Carolus tells Faustus that he has heard reports of his
magical powers and he would like to see some proof of Faustus' skill. Faustus responds

13. humbly that he is not as skilled as the rumors report him to be, but he will try to please the
emperor. The emperor wonders if anyone will ever attain the stature of Alexander the Great,
and he asks Faustus to bring Alexander and Alexander's paramour back to life. As the
emperor makes this request, a knight in the court makes several skeptical and sarcastic
remarks about Faustus' powers.
• At Faustus' request, Mephistophilis leaves and returns with two spirits in the shape of
Alexander and his paramour. After the emperor inspects a mole on the paramour's neck, he
declares that the two spirits are real. Faustus asks that the sarcastic knight be requested to
return. When the knight appears, he has a pair of horns on his head. The knight is furious
about his situation and abuses Faustus. Then, at the emperor's request, Faustus releases the
knight from the spell and the horns are removed. The emperor thanks Faustus for the
conjuration and promises to reward him bounteously.
Scene 11
• Faustus begins to be concerned that the end of his allotted time is drawing near. Suddenly, a
horse-courser enters and wants to know if Faustus will sell his horse for forty dollars. Faustus
willingly agrees to sell his horse but warns the horse-courser that he must never ride the
horse into water.
• When the horse-courser departs, Faustus resumes contemplating that he is condemned to die
and then falls asleep. The horse-courser returns in a great fluster and accuses Faustus of
cheating him. He thought the horse had some magical quality, so he proceeded to ride the
animal into a pond. When the horse disappeared under him, he found himself sitting on a
bundle of hay and he almost drowned.
• Mephistophilis cautions the horse-courser to be quiet because Faustus has just fallen asleep
for the first time in eight days. The horse-courser pulls on Faustus' legs, awakens him, and
demands that Faustus pay him back his money. He is astounded when Faustus' entire leg
comes off. He is so frightened that he promises to pay Faustus forty more dollars.
• Wagner enters to tell Faustus that the Duke of Vanholt desires his company, and Faustus
agrees to see the noble gentleman.
Scene 12
• At the court of the duke of Vanholt, Faustus asks the duchess, who is with child, if she has a
desire for any special dainties. Although it is January, she desires to have a dish of ripe
grapes. Faustus sends Mephistophilis after them, and when he returns with them, the duke
wonders how this could be accomplished. Faustus explains that he sent his spirit to India for
them. The duchess exclaims that the grapes are the best she has ever tasted. The duke
promises Faustus that he will reward him greatly for this favor.
Scene 13
• Wagner enters with the news that Faustus is soon to die because he has given all of his goods
and properties to his servants. He doesn't understand why Faustus continues to feast and to
carouse if he is so near death.
• Faustus enters with scholars discussing who is the most beautiful woman in the world. The
scholars think it is Helen of Troy. Because of their friendship for him, Faustus promises to

14. raise her from the dead and let the scholars see her in all her pomp and majesty. Music
sounds and Helen passes across the stage. The scholars exclaim wildly about her beauty and
thank Faustus for allowing them to see this "paragon of excellence."
• As an old man enters, the scholars leave. The old man prevails upon Faustus to repent of "thy
most vile and loathsome filthiness" so he can come under the grace and mercy of God and be
saved. Faustus fears that hell has him trapped but asks the old man to leave him alone for a
while and he ponders his sins.
• Mephistophilis then threatens Faustus for disobedience to Lucifer, and Faustus agrees to
reaffirm his contract to the devil in blood again. After he writes the second deed, he tells
Mephistophilis that he desires Helen for his own paramour. When she appears, Faustus
decides that Helen's beauty shall make him immortal and thus, he will not need salvation:
• Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?Sweet
Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies!Come,
Helen, come, give me my soul again.Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these lips,And all is
dross that is not Helen.
• After Faustus exits with Helen, the old man re-enters and expresses his disappointment in
Faustus, but he also sympathizes with him because he too has been tempted but has won
victory by turning to God.
Scene 14
• Faustus declares to the three scholars who accompany him that he is in a dejected state
because of what is about to happen to him. He admits that he has sinned so greatly that he
cannot be forgiven. The scholars urge him to call on God, but Faustus feels that he is unable
to call on God, whom he has abjured and blasphemed. He says: "Ah, my God, I would weep,
but the devil draws in my tears! . . . I would lift up my hands but, see, they hold them, they
hold them!" Faustus tells the scholars that he has done the very things that God most forbids
man to do: "for vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity."
• One of the scholars volunteers to stay with Faustus until the last minute, but Faustus and the
others admit that no one will be able to help him. He must face the final moments alone.
• After the scholars leave, the clock strikes eleven, and Faustus realizes that he has only an
hour left before eternal damnation. He suffers because he realizes that he will be deprived of
eternal bliss and will have to suffer eternal damnation. As the clock strikes half past eleven,
he pleads that his doom not be everlasting. He would suffer a hundred thousand years if at
last he could be saved. As the clock strikes twelve, he cries out for God not to look so fierce
upon him. Thunder and lightning flash across the stage and the devils arrive to take him
away.
• The basic situation in this final scene evokes many literary parallels. For example, we are
immediately reminded of Job, who had his friends with him to comfort him during his
suffering, but the friends were no help to him. Likewise, in the play Everyman, Everyman
wants to take all his friends with him to the grave. In Doctor Faustus, the doctor has his
friends with him and one of the scholars wants to stay with him, but Faustus realizes that he
must face death alone.

15. • Man's limitation is that he lives in time, and in his final speech, we see Faustus fighting
against this very limitation. As the clock strikes eleven, he realizes that he has only one hour
left to live. He suddenly understands that one power he does not possess is the ability to
make time stop; he desires to have more time to live and thus repent of his sins.
• Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,That time may cease and midnight never
come;Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and makePerpetual day; or let this hour be butA year,
a month, a week, a natural day,That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
• The drama of the scene is heightened by this constant awareness of the passing of time.
Faustus is almost frantic as his end approaches.
• As the clock strikes the final hour, we have one of the most dramatic scenes in all of
Elizabethan drama. During thunder and lightning, horrible-looking devils appear to take
Faustus off to his eternal damnation. His last pleading words are an effective statement of the
horror of trafficking in the black arts. His final speech is incoherent and incomplete, as
though he were suddenly dragged off in the middle of his plea.
• The chorus makes the final and closing comment on the fall of Faustus. They comment that
he had tried to go beyond the limitations of humanity and had thus fallen into eternal
damnation. The chorus admonishes the audience to take note of Faustus' example and not go
beyond the boundary of lawful things. The chorus expresses the medieval view that Faustus'
fall resulted from his pride and ambition.

Characters
Doctor John Faustus A learned scholar in Germany during the fifteenth century who becomes
dissatisfied with the limitations of knowledge and pledges his soul to Lucifer in exchange for
unlimited power.
Wagner Faustus' servant, who tries to imitate Faustus' methods of reasoning and fails in a
ridiculous and comic manner.
Valdes and Cornelius Two German scholars who are versed in the practice of magic and who
teach Faustus about the art of conjuring.
Lucifer King of the underworld and a fallen angel who had rebelled against God and thereafter
tries desperately to win souls away from the Lord.
Mephistophilis A prince of the underworld who appears to Faustus and becomes his servant for
twenty-four years.
Good Angel and Evil Angel Two figures who appear to Faustus and attempt to influence him.
The Clown The clown who becomes a servant of Wagner as Mephistophilis becomes a servant
to Faustus.
Horse-Courser A gullible man who buys Faustus' horse, which disappears when it is ridden into
a pond.
The Pope The head of the Roman Catholic church, whom Faustus and Mephistophilis use as a
butt of their practical jokes.
Charles V, Emperor of Germany The emperor who holds a feast for Faustus and at whose
court Faustus illustrates his magical powers.

16. Knight A haughty and disdainful knight who insults Faustus. In revenge, Faustus makes a pair
of horns appear on the knight.
Duke and Duchess of Vanholt A couple whom Faustus visits and for whom he conjures up
some grapes.
Robin An ostler who steals some of Dr. Faustus' books and tries to conjure up some devils.
Rafe (Ralph) A friend of Robin's who is present with Robin during the attempt to conjure up
devils.
Vintner A man who appears and tries to get payment for a goblet from Robin.
Old Man He appears to Faustus during the last scene and tries to tell Faustus that there is still
time to repent.
Seven Deadly Sins, Alexander, Helen of Troy, and Alexander's Paramour Spirits or
apparitions which appear during the course of the play.
Chorus A device used to comment upon the action of the play or to provide exposition.
Quotes
“Hell is just a frame of mind.”
“He that loves pleasure must for pleasure fall.”
“Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed
In one self place, for where we are is hell,
And where hell is must we ever be.”
“If we say that we have no sin,
We deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us.
Why then belike we must sin,
And so consequently die.
Ay, we must die an everlasting death.”
“I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and
therefore wish all books were burnt; I am lean with seeing others eat - O that there would
come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone; then thou
should'st see how fat I would be!
“Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burnèd is Apollo's laurel-bough,
That sometime grew within this learnèd man.”
“Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium--
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd.
O, I'll leap up to my God!—Who pulls me down?—
See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah, my Christ!

17. Hamlet
• The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, is a tragedy written by William
Shakespeare at an uncertain date between 1599 and 1602.
• Set in the Kingdom of Denmark, the play dramatises the revenge Prince Hamlet is
instructed to exact on his uncle Claudius.
• Claudius had murdered his own brother, Hamlet's father King Hamlet, and subsequently
seized the throne, marrying his deceased brother's widow, Hamlet's mother Gertrude.
• Hamlet is Shakespeare's longest play and among the most powerful and influential
tragedies in English literature, with a story capable of "seemingly endless retelling and
adaptation by others."
• The play seems to have been one of Shakespeare's most popular works during his lifetime
and still ranks among his most-performed, topping the performance list of the Royal
Shakespeare Company and its predecessors in Stratford-upon-Avon since 1879.
• It has inspired writers from Goethe and Dickens to Joyce and Murdoch, and has been
described as "the world's most filmed story after Cinderella".
• The story of Hamlet ultimately derives from the legend of Amleth, preserved by 13th-
century chronicler Saxo Grammaticus in his Gesta Danorum, as subsequently retold by
16th-century scholar François de Belleforest.
• Shakespeare may also have drawn on an earlier Elizabethan play known today as the Ur-
Hamlet, though some scholars believe he himself wrote the Ur-Hamlet, later revising it to
create the version of Hamlet we now have.

18. • He almost certainly created the title role for Richard Burbage, the leading tragedian of
Shakespeare's time.
• In the 400 years since, the role has been performed by highly acclaimed actors from each
successive age.
• Three different early versions of the play are extant, the First Quarto (Q1, 1603), the
Second Quarto (Q2, 1604), and the First Folio (F1, 1623).
• Each version includes lines, and even entire scenes, missing from the others.
• The play's structure and depth of characterization have inspired much critical scrutiny.
• One such example is the centuries-old debate about Hamlet's hesitation to kill his uncle,
which some see as merely a plot device to prolong the action, but which others argue is a
dramatisation of the complex philosophical and ethical issues that surround cold-blooded
murder, calculated revenge, and thwarted desire.
• More recently, psychoanalytic critics have examined Hamlet's unconscious desires,
and feminist critics have re-evaluated and rehabilitated the often maligned characters
of Ophelia and Gertrude.
HAMLET
M AJOR CON FLICT · Hamlet feels a responsibility to avenge his father’s murder by his
uncle Claudius, but Claudius is now the king and thus well protected. Moreover, Hamlet
struggles with his doubts about whether he can trust the ghost and whether killing Claudius is the
appropriate thing to do.
R ISIN G ACTION · The ghost appears to Hamlet and tells Hamlet to revenge his murder;
Hamlet feigns madness to his intentions; Hamlet stages the mousetrap play; Hamlet passes up the
opportunity to kill Claudius while he is praying.
CLIM AX · When Hamlet stabs Polonius through the arras in Act III, scene iv, he commits
himself to overtly violent action and brings himself into unavoidable conflict with the king.
Another possible climax comes at the end of Act IV, scene iv, when Hamlet resolves to commit
himself fully to violent revenge.
FALLIN G ACTION · Hamlet is sent to England to be killed; Hamlet returns to Denmark
and confronts Laertes at Ophelia’s funeral; the fencing match; the deaths of the royal family
SETTIN G (TIM E) · The late medieval period, though the play’s chronological setting is
notoriously imprecise

19. SETTIN GS (PLACE) · Denmark
FOR ESHAD OWIN G · The ghost, which is taken to foreshadow an ominous future for
Denmark
TON E · Dark, ironic, melancholy, passionate, contemplative, desperate, violent
THEM ES · The impossibility of certainty; the complexity of action; the mystery of death; the
nation as a diseased body
M OTIFS · Incest and incestuous desire; ears and hearing; death and suicide; darkness and the
supernatural; misogyny
SYM BOLS · The ghost (the spiritual consequences of death); Yorick’s skull (the physical
consequences of death)


Sources
• Hamlet-like legends are so widely found (for example in Italy, Spain, Scandinavia,
Byzantium, and Arabia) that the core "hero-as-fool" theme is possibly Indo-European in
origin.

Several ancient written precursors to Hamlet can be identified.
• The first is the anonymous Scandinavian Saga of Hrolf Kraki. In this, the murdered king
has two sons—Hroar and Helgi—who spend most of the story in disguise, under false
names, rather than feigning madness, in a sequence of events that differs from
Shakespeare's.
• The second is the Roman legend of Brutus, recorded in two separate Latin works. Its
hero, Lucius ("shining, light"), changes his name and persona to Brutus ("dull, stupid"),
playing the role of a fool to avoid the fate of his father and brothers, and eventually
slaying his family's killer, King Tarquinius.
• A 17th-century Nordic scholar, Torfaeus, compared the Icelandic hero Amlodi and the
Spanish hero Prince Ambales (from the Ambales Saga) to Shakespeare's Hamlet.

20. Similarities include the prince's feigned madness, his accidental killing of the king's
counsellor in his mother's bedroom, and the eventual slaying of his uncle.
• Many of the earlier legendary elements are interwoven in the 13th-century Vita
Amlethi ("The Life of Amleth")

by Saxo Grammaticus, part ofGesta
Danorum.
[12]
Written in Latin, it reflects classical Roman concepts of virtue and heroism,
and was widely available in Shakespeare's day.
[13]
Significant parallels include the prince
feigning madness, his mother's hasty marriage to the usurper, the prince killing a hidden
spy, and the prince substituting the execution of two retainers for his own.
• A reasonably faithful version of Saxo's story was translated into French in 1570 by
François de Belleforest, in his Histoires tragiques.
• Belleforest embellished Saxo's text substantially, almost doubling its length, and
introduced the hero's melancholy.
• According to a popular theory, Shakespeare's main source is believed to be an earlier
play—now lost—known today as the Ur-Hamlet.
• Possibly written by Thomas Kyd or even William Shakespeare himself, the Ur-
Hamlet would have been in performance by 1589 and the first version of the story known
to incorporate a ghost.
• Shakespeare's company, the Chamberlain's Men, may have purchased that play and
performed a version for some time, which Shakespeare reworked.
• Since no copy of the Ur-Hamlet has survived, however, it is impossible to compare its
language and style with the known works of any of its putative authors. Consequently,
there is no direct evidence that Kyd wrote it, nor any evidence that the play was not an
early version of Hamlet by Shakespeare himself.
• This latter idea—placing Hamlet far earlier than the generally accepted date, with a much
longer period of development—has attracted some support, though others dismiss it as
speculation.
• The upshot is that scholars cannot assert with any confidence how much material
Shakespeare took from the Ur-Hamlet (if it even existed), how much from Belleforest or
Saxo, and how much from other contemporary sources (such as Kyd's The Spanish
Tragedy).

21. • No clear evidence exists that Shakespeare made any direct references to Saxo's version.
However, elements of Belleforest's version which are not in Saxo's story do appear in
Shakespeare's play. Whether Shakespeare took these from Belleforest directly or through
the Ur-Hamlet remains unclear.
• Most scholars reject the idea that Hamlet is in any way connected with Shakespeare's
only son, Hamnet Shakespeare, who died in 1596 at age eleven. Conventional wisdom
holds that Hamlet is too obviously connected to legend, and the name Hamnet was quite
popular at the time.
• However, Stephen Greenblatt has argued that the coincidence of the names and
Shakespeare's grief for the loss of his son may lie at the heart of the tragedy. He notes
that the name of Hamnet Sadler, the Stratford neighbour after whom Hamnet was named,
was often written as Hamlet Sadler and that, in the loose orthography of the time, the
names were virtually interchangeable. Sadler's first name is spelled "Hamlett" in
Shakespeare's will.
• Scholars have often speculated that Hamlet 's Polonius might have been inspired
by William Cecil (Lord Burghley)—Lord High Treasurer and chief counsellor to Queen
Elizabeth I. E. K. Chambers suggested Polonius's advice to Laertes may have echoed
Burghley's to his son Robert Cecil. John Dover Wilson thought it almost certain that the
figure of Polonius caricatured Burleigh, while A. L. Rowse speculated that Polonius's
tedious verbosity might have resembled Burghley's.
• Lilian Winstanley thought the name Corambis (in the First Quarto) did suggest Cecil and
Burghley.
• Harold Jenkins criticised the idea of any direct personal satire as "unlikely" and
"uncharacteristic of Shakespeare",

while G. R. Hibbard hypothesised that differences in
names (Corambis/Polonius:Montano/Raynoldo) between the First Quarto and other
editions might reflect a desire not to offend scholars at Oxford University.
Characters

Hamlet, Prince of Denmark The crown prince of Denmark who returns from the university in
Wittenberg, Germany, to find his father dead, his mother married to the king's brother Claudius,
and Claudius newly self-crowned King.

22. Claudius, King of Denmark Dead King Hamlet's brother who has usurped the throne and
married his sister-in-law.
Gertrude, Queen of Denmark Prince Hamlet's mother, King Hamlet's widow, King Claudius'
wife.
The Ghost Spirit of the late King Hamlet, condemned to walk the earth until his soul is cleansed
of its sins.
Polonius The elderly Lord Chamberlain, chief counselor to Claudius.
Horatio A commoner, Horatio went to school with Hamlet and remains his loyal best friend.
Laertes A student in Paris, Laertes is Polonius' son and Ophelia's brother; he returns from school
because of King Hamlet's death, leaves to go back to Paris, and then returns again after his own
father's murder.
Ophelia Daughter of Polonius, sister of Laertes, Ophelia is beloved of Hamlet.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Classmates of Hamlet's in Wittenberg. Claudius summons them
to Elsinore to spy on Prince Hamlet.
Fortinbras King of Norway, bound to avenge his father's death by the Danes' hands.
Osric Affected courtier who plays a minor role as the King's messenger and as umpire of the
fencing match between Hamlet and Laertes.
Voltimand and Cornelius Danish courtiers who are sent as ambassadors to the Court of
Norway.
Marcellus and Barnardo Danish officers on guard at the castle of Elsinore.
Francisco Danish soldier on guard at the castle of Elsinore.
Reynaldo Young man whom Polonius instructs and sends to Paris to observe and report on
Laertes' conduct.
Two Clowns (the Gravediggers) Two rustics (identified as clowns) who dig Ophelia's grave.

24. Themes
Themes are the fundamental and often universal ideas explored in a literary work.
The Impossibility of Certainty
What separates Hamlet from other revenge plays (and maybe from every play written before it)
is that the action we expect to see, particularly from Hamlet himself, is continually postponed
while Hamlet tries to obtain more certain knowledge about what he is doing. This play poses
many questions that other plays would simply take for granted. Can we have certain knowledge
about ghosts? Is the ghost what it appears to be, or is it really a misleading fiend? Does the ghost
have reliable knowledge about its own death, or is the ghost itself deluded? Moving to more
earthly matters: How can we know for certain the facts about a crime that has no witnesses? Can
Hamlet know the state of Claudius’s soul by watching his behavior? If so, can he know the facts
of what Claudius did by observing the state of his soul? Can Claudius (or the audience) know the
state of Hamlet’s mind by observing his behavior and listening to his speech? Can we know
whether our actions will have the consequences we want them to have? Can we know anything
about the afterlife?
Many people have seen Hamlet as a play about indecisiveness, and thus about Hamlet’s failure to
act appropriately. It might be more interesting to consider that the play shows us how many
uncertainties our lives are built upon, how many unknown quantities are taken for granted when
people act or when they evaluate one another’s actions.
The Complexity of Action
Directly related to the theme of certainty is the theme of action. How is it possible to take
reasonable, effective, purposeful action? In Hamlet, the question of how to act is affected not
only by rational considerations, such as the need for certainty, but also by emotional, ethical, and
psychological factors. Hamlet himself appears to distrust the idea that it’s even possible to act in
a controlled, purposeful way. When he does act, he prefers to do it blindly, recklessly, and
violently. The other characters obviously think much less about “action” in the abstract than
Hamlet does, and are therefore less troubled about the possibility of acting effectively. They
simply act as they feel is appropriate. But in some sense they prove that Hamlet is right, because

25. all of their actions miscarry. Claudius possesses himself of queen and crown through bold action,
but his conscience torments him, and he is beset by threats to his authority (and, of course, he
dies). Laertes resolves that nothing will distract him from acting out his revenge, but he is easily
influenced and manipulated into serving Claudius’s ends, and his poisoned rapier is turned back
upon himself.
The Mystery of Death
In the aftermath of his father’s murder, Hamlet is obsessed with the idea of death, and over the
course of the play he considers death from a great many perspectives. He ponders both the
spiritual aftermath of death, embodied in the ghost, and the physical remainders of the dead, such
as by Yorick’s skull and the decaying corpses in the cemetery. Throughout, the idea of death is
closely tied to the themes of spirituality, truth, and uncertainty in that death may bring the
answers to Hamlet’s deepest questions, ending once and for all the problem of trying to
determine truth in an ambiguous world. And, since death is both the cause and the consequence
of revenge, it is intimately tied to the theme of revenge and justice—Claudius’s murder of King
Hamlet initiates Hamlet’s quest for revenge, and Claudius’s death is the end of that quest.
The question of his own death plagues Hamlet as well, as he repeatedly contemplates whether or
not suicide is a morally legitimate action in an unbearably painful world. Hamlet’s grief and
misery is such that he frequently longs for death to end his suffering, but he fears that if he
commits suicide, he will be consigned to eternal suffering in hell because of the Christian
religion’s prohibition of suicide. In his famous “To be or not to be” soliloquy (III.i), Hamlet
philosophically concludes that no one would choose to endure the pain of life if he or she were
not afraid of what will come after death, and that it is this fear which causes complex moral
considerations to interfere with the capacity for action.
The Nation as a Diseased Body
Everything is connected in Hamlet, including the welfare of the royal family and the health of
the state as a whole. The play’s early scenes explore the sense of anxiety and dread that
surrounds the transfer of power from one ruler to the next. Throughout the play, characters draw
explicit connections between the moral legitimacy of a ruler and the health of tdhe nation.

26. Denmark is frequently described as a physical body made ill by the moral corruption of Claudius
and Gertrude, and many observers interpret the presence of the ghost as a supernatural omen
indicating that “[s]omething is rotten in the state of Denmark” (I.iv.67). The dead King Hamlet is
portrayed as a strong, forthright ruler under whose guard the state was in good health, while
Claudius, a wicked politician, has corrupted and compromised Denmark to satisfy his own
appetites. At the end of the play, the rise to power of the upright Fortinbras suggests that
Denmark will be strengthened once again.
Motifs
Motifs are recurring structures, contrasts, and literary devices that can help to develop and
inform the text’s major themes.
Incest and Incestuous Desire
The motif of incest runs throughout the play and is frequently alluded to by Hamlet and the
ghost, most obviously in conversations about Gertrude and Claudius, the former brother-in-law
and sister-in-law who are now married. A subtle motif of incestuous desire can be found in the
relationship of Laertes and Ophelia, as Laertes sometimes speaks to his sister in suggestively
sexual terms and, at her funeral, leaps into her grave to hold her in his arms. However, the
strongest overtones of incestuous desire arise in the relationship of Hamlet and Gertrude, in
Hamlet’s fixation on Gertrude’s sex life with Claudius and his preoccupation with her in general.
Misogyny
Shattered by his mother’s decision to marry Claudius so soon after her husband’s death, Hamlet
becomes cynical about women in general, showing a particular obsession with what he perceives
to be a connection between female sexuality and moral corruption. This motif of misogyny, or
hatred of women, occurs sporadically throughout the play, but it is an important inhibiting factor
in Hamlet’s relationships with Ophelia and Gertrude. He urges Ophelia to go to a nunnery rather
than experience the corruptions of sexuality and exclaims of Gertrude, “Frailty, thy name is
woman” (I.ii.146).

27. Ears and Hearing
One facet of Hamlet’s exploration of the difficulty of attaining true knowledge is slipperiness of
language. Words are used to communicate ideas, but they can also be used to distort the truth,
manipulate other people, and serve as tools in corrupt quests for power. Claudius, the shrewd
politician, is the most obvious example of a man who manipulates words to enhance his own
power. The sinister uses of words are represented by images of ears and hearing, from Claudius’s
murder of the king by pouring poison into his ear to Hamlet’s claim to Horatio that “I have
words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb” (IV.vi.21). The poison poured in the king’s ear
by Claudius is used by the ghost to symbolize the corrosive effect of Claudius’s dishonesty on
the health of Denmark. Declaring that the story that he was killed by a snake is a lie, he says that
“the whole ear of Denmark” is “Rankly abused. . . .” (I.v.36–38).
Symbols
Symbols are objects, characters, figures, and colors used to represent abstract ideas or concepts.
Yorick’s Skull
In Hamlet, physical objects are rarely used to represent thematic ideas. One important exception
is Yorick’s skull, which Hamlet discovers in the graveyard in the first scene of Act V. As Hamlet
speaks to the skull and about the skull of the king’s former jester, he fixates on death’s
inevitability and the disintegration of the body. He urges the skull to “get you to my lady’s
chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come”—no one can avoid
death (V.i.178–179). He traces the skull’s mouth and says, “Here hung those lips that I have
kissed I know not how oft,” indicating his fascination with the physical consequences of death
(V.i.174–175). This latter idea is an important motif throughout the play, as Hamlet frequently
makes comments referring to every human body’s eventual decay, noting that Polonius will be
eaten by worms, that even kings are eaten by worms, and that dust from the decayed body of
Alexander the Great might be used to stop a hole in a beer barrel.
Analysis and criticism

28. Critical history
• From the early 17th century, the play was famous for its ghost and vivid dramatisation
of melancholy and insanity, leading to a procession of mad courtiers and ladies in
Jacobean and Caroline drama.
• Though it remained popular with mass audiences, late 17th-century Restoration critics
saw Hamlet as primitive and disapproved of its lack of unity and decorum.
• This view changed drastically in the 18th century, when critics regarded Hamlet as a
hero—a pure, brilliant young man thrust into unfortunate circumstances.
• By the mid-18th century, however, the advent of Gothic
literature brought psychological and mystical readings, returning madness and the Ghost
to the forefront.
• Not until the late 18th century did critics and performers begin to view Hamlet as
confusing and inconsistent. Before then, he was either mad, or not; either a hero, or not;
with no in-betweens. These developments represented a fundamental change in literary
criticism, which came to focus more on character and less on plot.
• By the 19th century, Romantic critics valued Hamlet for its internal, individual conflict
reflecting the strong contemporary emphasis on internal struggles and inner character in
general.
• Then too, critics started to focus on Hamlet's delay as a character trait, rather than a plot
device. This focus on character and internal struggle continued into the 20th century,
when criticism branched in several directions, discussed in context and
interpretation below.
Dramatic structure
• Hamlet departed from contemporary dramatic convention in several ways. For example,
in Shakespeare's day, plays were usually expected to follow the advice of Aristotle in
hisPoetics: that a drama should focus on action, not character.
• In Hamlet, Shakespeare reverses this so that it is through the soliloquies, not the action,
that the audience learns Hamlet's motives and thoughts. The play is full of seeming
discontinuities and irregularities of action, except in the "bad" quarto.

29. • At one point, as in the Gravedigger scene, Hamlet seems resolved to kill Claudius: in the
next scene, however, when Claudius appears, he is suddenly tame. Scholars still debate
whether these twists are mistakes or intentional additions to add to the play's themes of
confusion and duality.
• Finally, in a period when most plays ran for two hours or so, the full text of Hamlet—
Shakespeare's longest play, with 4,042 lines, totalling 29,551 words—often takes over
four hours to deliver.
• Even today the play is rarely performed in its entirety, and has only once been
dramatised on film completely, in Kenneth Branagh's 1996 version.
• Hamlet also contains a favourite Shakespearean device, a play within the play, a literary
device or conceit in which one story is told during the action of another story
Language

• Compared with language in a modern newspaper, magazine or popular novel,
Shakespeare's language can strike contemporary readers as complex, elaborate and at
times difficult to understand. Remarkably, it still works well enough in the theatre:
audiences at the reconstruction of 'Shakespeare's Globe' in London, many of whom have
never been to the theatre before, let alone to a play by Shakespeare, seem to have little
difficulty grasping the play's action.
• Much of Hamlet's language is courtly: elaborate, witty discourse, as recommended
by Baldassare Castiglione's 1528 etiquette guide, The Courtier. This work specifically
advises royal retainers to amuse their masters with inventive language. Osric and
Polonius, especially, seem to respect this injunction. Claudius's speech is rich with
rhetorical figures—as is Hamlet's and, at times, Ophelia's—while the language of
Horatio, the guards, and the gravediggers is simpler. Claudius's high status is reinforced
by using the royal first person plural ("we" or "us"), and anaphora mixed
with metaphor to resonate with Greek political speeches.
• Hamlet is the most skilled of all at rhetoric. He uses highly developed
metaphors, stichomythia, and in nine memorable words deploys
bothanaphora and asyndeton: "to die: to sleep— / To sleep, perchance to dream".

30. • In contrast, when occasion demands, he is precise and straightforward, as when he
explains his inward emotion to his mother: "But I have that within which passes show, /
These but the trappings and the suits of woe".
• At times, he relies heavily on puns to express his true thoughts while simultaneously
concealing them.

His "nunnery" remarks to Ophelia are an example of a cruel double
meaning as nunnery was Elizabethan slang for brothel. His very first words in the play
are a pun; when Claudius addresses him as "my cousin Hamlet, and my son", Hamlet
says as an aside: "A little more than kin, and less than kind."
• An aside is a dramatic device in which a character speaks to the audience. By convention
the audience realises that the character's speech is unheard by the other characters on
stage. It may be addressed to the audience expressly (in character or out) or represent an
unspoken thought.
• An unusual rhetorical device, hendiadys, appears in several places in the play. Examples
are found in Ophelia's speech at the end of the nunnery scene: "Th'expectancy and rose of
the fair state"; "And I, of ladies most deject and wretched".
• Many scholars have found it odd that Shakespeare would, seemingly arbitrarily, use this
rhetorical form throughout the play. One explanation may be that Hamlet was written
later in Shakespeare's life, when he was adept at matching rhetorical devices to characters
and the plot. Linguist George T. Wright suggests that hendiadys had been used
deliberately to heighten the play's sense of duality and dislocation.
• Pauline Kiernan argues that Shakespeare changed English drama forever
in Hamlet because he "showed how a character's language can often be saying several
things at once, and contradictory meanings at that, to reflect fragmented thoughts and
disturbed feelings." She gives the example of Hamlet's advice to Ophelia, "get thee to a
nunnery", which is simultaneously a reference to a place of chastity and a slang term for a
brothel, reflecting Hamlet's confused feelings about female sexuality.
Context and interpretation
Religious
Written at a time of religious upheaval, and in the wake of the English Reformation, the play is
alternately Catholic (or piously medieval) and Protestant (or consciously modern). The Ghost
describes himself as being in purgatory, and as dying without last rites. This and Ophelia's burial

31. ceremony, which is characteristically Catholic, make up most of the play's Catholic connections.
Some scholars have observed that revenge tragedies come from traditionally Catholic countries,
such as Spain and Italy; and they present a contradiction, since according to Catholic doctrine the
strongest duty is to God and family. Hamlet's conundrum, then, is whether to avenge his father
and kill Claudius, or to leave the vengeance to God, as his religion requires.
[70]

Much of the play's Protestantism derives from its location in Denmark—both then and now a
predominantly Protestant country, though it is unclear whether the fictional Denmark of the play
is intended to mirror this fact. The play does mention Wittenberg, where Hamlet, Horatio, and
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern attend university, and where Martin Luther first proposed his 95
theses in 1517, effectively ushering in the Protestant Reformation.
[71]
In Shakespeare's day
Denmark, like the majority of Scandinavia, was Lutheran
Philosophical
Hamlet is often perceived as a philosophical character, expounding ideas that are now described
as relativist, existentialist, and sceptical. For example, he expresses a subjectivistic idea when he
says to Rosencrantz: "there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so".
[73]
The idea
that nothing is real except in the mind of the individual finds its roots in the Greek Sophists, who
argued that since nothing can be perceived except through the senses—and since all individuals
sense, and therefore perceive things differently—there is no absolute truth, only relative
truth.
[74]
The clearest alleged instance of existentialism is in the "to be, or not to be"
[75]
speech,
where Hamlet is thought by some to use "being" to allude to life and action, and "not being" to
death and inaction.
Hamlet reflects the contemporary scepticism promoted by the French Renaissance humanist,
Montaigne.
[76]
Prior to Montaigne's time, humanists such as Pico della Mirandola had argued that
man was God's greatest creation, made in God's image and able to choose his own nature, but
this view was subsequently challenged in Michel de Montaigne's Essais of 1580. Hamlet's "What
a piece of work is a man" could supposedly echo many of Montaigne's ideas, and many scholars
have disagreed whether Shakespeare drew directly from Montaigne or whether both men were
simply reacting similarly to the spirit of the times.
[77]

Nevertheless, if the sentence is analysed in the textual context
[78]
it is easy to understand how
Hamlet was being sarcastic: "Man delights not me", he concludes. Amaral
[79]
argues that this is
the result of melancholy. This condition was a main subject of philosophy in this epoch. After a
period of confidence in reason's ability to unveil reality (Renaissance), 'Mannerism' started

32. questioning its power. Hamlet shows traces of this. In this sense, Hamlet is not feigning
madness, but he is indeed trapped between the world everybody expects him to see (the lies told
by Claudius and accepted by all, i.e. social decorum) and the world revealed to him by
knowledge (the reality of the murdering, as testified by his father's ghost). This condition of
being trapped between two different ways of seeing reality was also pictured by Shakespeare's
contemporary Cervantes, in Don Quixote. This profound meditation was examined by the
philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer in The World as Will and Representation. Schopenhauer uses
Hamlet to clarify his main argument. He argues that the world as we see it is a conjunction of
representations. These representations are formed by the projection of our will towards the
world. We can only see objects of our desires. In this sense he argues that only art could show us
that reality is such a construct. Exactly as Hamlet did: "If the whole world as representation is
only the visibility of the will, then art is the elucidation of this visibility, the camera obscura
which shows the objects more purely, and enables us to survey and comprehend them better. It is
the play within the play, the stage on the stage inHamlet."
[80]

In his openness to embrace the ghost's message, Hamlet assuages Horatio's wonderment with the
analytical assertion, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in
your philosophy."
Psychoanalytic
In the first half of the 20th century, when psychoanalysis was at the height of its influence, its
concepts were applied to Hamlet, notably bySigmund Freud, Ernest Jones, and Jacques Lacan,
and these studies influenced theatrical productions. In his The Interpretation of HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Interpretation_of_Dreams" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Interpretation_of_Dreams" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Interpretation_of_Dreams"Dreams(1900), Freud's analysis
starts from the premise that "the play is built up on Hamlet's hesitations over fulfilling the task of
revenge that is assigned to him; but its text offers no reasons or motives for these
hesitations".
[81]
After reviewing various literary theories, Freud concludes that Hamlet has an
"Oedipal desire for his mother and the subsequent guilt [is] preventing him from murdering the
man [Claudius] who has done what he unconsciously wanted to do".
[82]
Confronted with
his repressed desires, Hamlet realises that "he himself is literally no better than the sinner whom
he is to punish".
[81]
Freud suggests that Hamlet's apparent "distaste for sexuality"—articulated in
his "nunnery" conversation with Ophelia—accords with this interpretation.
[83 HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK

33. "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet"] HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet"[84]
This "distaste for sexuality" has
sparked theories of Hamlet being what is now referred to as a homosexualor asexual.
[85]
John
Barrymore's long-running 1922 performance in New York, directed by Thomas Hopkins, "broke
new ground in its Freudian approach to character", in keeping with the post-World War I
rebellion against everything Victorian.
[86]
He had a "blunter intention" than presenting the
genteel, sweet prince of 19th-century tradition, imbuing his character with virility and lust.
[87]

Beginning in 1910, with the publication of "The Oedipus-Complex as An Explanation of
Hamlet's Mystery: Study in Motive,"
[88]
Ernest Jones—a psychoanalyst and Freud's biographer—
developed Freud's ideas into a series of essays that culminated in his book Hamlet and
Oedipus (1949). Influenced by Jones's psychoanalytic approach, several productions have
portrayed the "closet scene",
[89]
where Hamlet confronts his mother in her private quarters, in a
sexual light. In this reading, Hamlet is disgusted by his mother's "incestuous" relationship with
Claudius while simultaneously fearful of killing him, as this would clear Hamlet's path to his
mother's bed. Ophelia's madness after her father's death may also be read through the Freudian
lens: as a reaction to the death of her hoped-for lover, her father. She is overwhelmed by having
her unfulfilled love for him so abruptly terminated and drifts into the oblivion of insanity.
[90]
In
1937, Tyrone Guthrie directed Laurence Olivier in a Jones-inspired Hamlet at The Old
Vic.
[91]
Olivier later used some of these same ideas in his 1948 film version of the play.
In the 1950s, Lacan's structuralist theories about Hamlet were first presented in a series
of seminars given in Paris and later published in "Desire and the Interpretation of Desire
in Hamlet". Lacan postulated that the human psyche is determined by structures of language and
that the linguistic structures of Hamlet shed light on human desire.
[82]
His point of departure is
Freud's Oedipal theories, and the central theme of mourning that runs through Hamlet.
[82]
In
Lacan's analysis, Hamlet unconsciously assumes the role of phallus—the cause of his inaction—
and is increasingly distanced from reality "by mourning, fantasy, narcissism and psychosis",
which create holes (or lack) in the real, imaginary, and symbolic aspects of his
psyche.
[82]
Lacan's theories influenced literary criticism of Hamlet because of his alternative
vision of the play and his use of semantics to explore the play's psychological landscape.
[82]

In the Bloom's Shakespeare Through the Ages volume on Hamlet, editors Bloom and Foster
express a conviction that the intentions of Shakespeare in portraying the character of Hamlet in
the play exceeded the capacity of the Freudian Oedipus complex to completely encompass the

34. extent of characteristics depicted in Hamlet throughout the tragedy: "For once, Freud regressed
in attempting to fasten the Oedipus Complex upon Hamlet: it will not stick, and merely showed
that Freud did better than T.S. Eliot, who preferredCoriolanus to Hamlet, or so he said. Who can
believe Eliot, when he exposes his own Hamlet Complex by declaring the play to be an aesthetic
failure?"
[92]
The book also notes James Joyce's interpretation, stating that he "did far better in the
Library Scene of Ulysses, where Stephen marvelously credits Shakespeare, in this play, with
universal fatherhood while accurately implying that Hamlet is fatherless, thus opening a
pragmatic gap between Shakespeare and Hamlet."
[92]

In the essay "Hamlet Made Simple", David P. Gontar turns the tables on the psychoanalysts by
suggesting that Claudius is not a symbolic father figure but actually Prince Hamlet's biological
father. The hesitation in killing Claudius results from an unwillingness on Hamlet's part to slay
his real father. If Hamlet is the biological son of Claudius, that explains many things. Hamlet
doesn't become King of Denmark on the occasion of the King's death inasmuch as it is an open
secret in court that he is Claudius' biological son, and as such he is merely a court bastard not in
the line of succession. He is angry with his mother because of her long standing affair with a
man Hamlet hates, and Hamlet must face the fact that he has been sired by the man he loathes.
That point overturns T.S. Eliot's complaint that the play is a failure for not furnishing an
"objective correlative" to account for Hamlet's rage at his mother. Gontar suggests that if the
reader assumes that Hamlet is not who he seems to be, the objective correlative becomes
apparent. Hamlet is suicidal in the first soliloquy not because his mother quickly remarries but
because of her adulterous affair with the despised Claudius which makes Hamlet his son. Finally,
the Ghost's confirmation of an alternative fatherhood for Hamlet is a fabrication that gives the
Prince a motive for revenge.
Feminist
In the 20th century, feminist critics opened up new approaches to Gertrude and Ophelia. New
Historicist and cultural materialist critics examined the play in its historical context, attempting
to piece together its original cultural environment.
[95]
They focused on the gender system of early
modern England, pointing to the common trinity of maid, wife, or widow, with whores outside of
that stereotype. In this analysis, the essence of Hamlet is the central character's changed
perception of his mother as a whore because of her failure to remain faithful to Old Hamlet. In
consequence, Hamlet loses his faith in all women, treating Ophelia as if she too were a whore
and dishonest with Hamlet. Ophelia, by some critics, can be seen as honest and fair; however, it
is virtually impossible to link these two traits, since 'fairness' is an outward trait, while 'honesty'
is an inward trait.

35. Carolyn Heilbrun's 1957 essay "The Character of Hamlet's Mother" defends Gertrude, arguing
that the text never hints that Gertrude knew of Claudius poisoning King Hamlet. This analysis
has been praised by many feminist critics, combating what is, by Heilbrun's argument, centuries'
worth of misinterpretation. By this account, Gertrude's worst crime is of pragmatically marrying
her brother-in-law in order to avoid a power vacuum. This is borne out by the fact that King
Hamlet's ghost tells Hamlet to leave Gertrude out of Hamlet's revenge, to leave her to heaven, an
arbitrary mercy to grant to a conspirator to murder.
[97 HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet"
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet"] HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamlet"[98]
This view has not been without objection from some critics.
[99]

Ophelia has also been defended by feminist critics, most notably Elaine Showalter.
[100]
Ophelia is
surrounded by powerful men: her father, brother, and Hamlet. All three disappear: Laertes
leaves, Hamlet abandons her, and Polonius dies. Conventional theories had argued that without
these three powerful men making decisions for her, Ophelia is driven into madness.
[101]
Feminist
theorists argue that she goes mad with guilt because, when Hamlet kills her father, he has
fulfilled her sexual desire to have Hamlet kill her father so they can be together. Showalter points
out that Ophelia has become the symbol of the distraught and hysterical woman in modern
culture.
Influence
• Hamlet is one of the most quoted works in the English language, and is often included on
lists of the world's greatest literature.

As such, it reverberates through the writing of later
centuries.
• Academic Laurie Osborne identifies the direct influence of Hamlet in numerous modern
narratives, and divides them into four main categories:
• fictional accounts of the play's composition, simplifications of the story for young
readers, stories expanding the role of one or more characters, and narratives featuring
performances of the play.
• Henry Fielding's Tom Jones, published about 1749, describes a visit to Hamlet by Tom
Jones and Mr Partridge, with similarities to the "play within a play".
• In contrast, Goethe's Bildungsroman Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, written between
1776 and 1796, not only has a production of Hamlet at its core but also creates parallels
between the Ghost and Wilhelm Meister's dead father.
• In the early 1850s, in Pierre, Herman Melville focuses on a Hamlet-like character's long
development as a writer.Ten years later,Dickens's Great Expectations contains many
Hamlet-like plot elements: it is driven by revenge-motivated actions, contains ghost-like
characters (Abel Magwitch and Miss Havisham), and focuses on the hero's guilt.

36. • Academic Alexander Welsh notes that Great Expectations is an "autobiographical novel"
and "anticipates psychoanalytic readings of Hamlet itself".
• About the same time,George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss was published, introducing
Maggie Tulliver "who is explicitly compared with Hamlet"
[107]
though "with a reputation
for sanity".
• L. Frank Baum's first published short story was "They Played a New Hamlet" (1895).
When Baum had been touring New York State in the title role, the actor playing the ghost
fell through the floorboards, and the rural audience thought it was part of the show and
demanded that the actor repeat the fall, because they thought it was funny. Baum would
later recount the actual story in an article, but the short story is told from the point of
view of the actor playing the Ghost.
• In the 1920s, James Joyce managed "a more upbeat version" of Hamlet—stripped of
obsession and revenge—in Ulysses, though its main parallels are with Homer'sOdyssey.
• In the 1990s, two women novelists were explicitly influenced by Hamlet. In Angela
Carter's Wise Children, To be or not to be is reworked as a song and dance routine,
and Iris Murdoch's The Black Prince has Oedipal themes and murder intertwined with a
love affair between a Hamlet-obsessed writer, Bradley Pearson, and the daughter of his
rival.

• There is the story of the woman who read Hamlet for the first time and said, "I don't see
why people admire that play so. It is nothing but a bunch of quotations strung together."
—Isaac Asimov, Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare,
Literary influence of Hamlet
• William Shakespeare's Hamlet is a tragedy, believed to have been written
between 1599 and 1601. It tells the story of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark—who takes revenge
on the current king (Hamlet's uncle) for killing the previous king (Hamlet's father) and for
marrying his father's widow (Hamlet's mother)—and it charts the course of his real or
feigned madness.
• Hamlet is the longest play—and Hamlet is the largest part—in the entire Shakespeare
canon.Critics say that Hamlet "offers the greatest exhibition of Shakespeare's powers".
[2]

• Academic Laurie Osborne identifies the direct influence of Hamlet in numerous modern
narratives, and divides them into four main categories: fictional accounts of the play's
composition, simplifications of the story for young readers, stories expanding the role of one
or more characters, and narratives featuring performances of the play.
Novels and plays

37. • Hamlet is one of the most-quoted works in the English language, and often included on lists
of the world's greatest literature.
• As such, it has proved a pervasive influence in literature. For instance, Henry Fielding's Tom
Jones, published about 1749, merely describes a visit to Hamlet by Tom Jones and Mr
Partridge.
• In contrast, Goethe's Bildungsroman Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, written between
1776–1796 not only has a production of Hamlet at its core but also dwells on parallels
between the Ghost and Wilhelm Meister's dead father.
• In the early 1850s, in Pierre, Herman Melville focuses on a Hamlet-like character's long
development as a writer.
• Ten years later, Dickens' HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dickens"
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Expectations" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dickens"Great Expectations contains many Hamlet-
like plot elements: it is driven by revenge actions, contains ghost-like characters (Abel
Magwitch and Miss Havisham), and focuses on the hero's guilt.
• Academic Alexander Welsh notes that Great Expectations is an "autobiographical novel"
and "anticipates psychoanalytic readings of Hamlet itself".
• About the same time, George HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Eliot"
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Eliot" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Eliot"Eliot's The HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mill_on_the_Floss" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mill_on_the_Floss" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mill_on_the_Floss" Mill on the Floss was published,
introducing Maggie Tulliver "who is explicitly compared with Hamlet".
[7]
Scholar Marianne
Novy suggests that Eliot "demythologises Hamlet by imagining him with a reputation for
sanity", notwithstanding his frequent monologues and moodiness towards Ophelia.
[8]
Novy
also suggestsMary Wollstonecraft as an influence on Eliot, critiquing "the trivialisation of
women in contemporary society".
• Hamlet has played "a relatively small role" in the appropriation of Shakespeare's plays by
women writers, ranging from Ophelia, The Fair Rose of Elsinore in Mary Cowden Clarke's
1852 The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines, to Margaret Atwood's 1994 Gertrude Talks

38. Back—in her 1994 collection of short stories Good Bones and Simple Murders—in which
the title character sets her son straight about Old Hamlet's murder: "It wasn't Claudius,
darling, it was me!”
• Also, because of the criticism of the sexism, American author Lisa Klein wrote Ophelia, a
novel that portrays Ophelia, too, as feigning madness and surviving.
VARIOUS INTERPRETATIONS OF HAMLET
The Approach of Wilson Knight
Until the 1930s, the evaluation of Hamlet was mostly a continuation of the nineteenth century
approach to the character of its tragic hero. After Bradley's Shakespearean Tragedy was
published in 1904, an entire generation of critics remained obsessed with Hamlet's delay in
killing Claudius. They blamed the whole tragedy on the fact that it took the Prince too long to act
on his revenge. They never acknowledged the basic premise that Hamlet was a sweet and noble
prince, that Claudius was a treacherous villain, and that the tragedy of Hamlet lay in the fact that
a "good" character was destroyed because of an "evil" usurper.
In 1930, Wilson Knight's The Wheel of Fire questioned the delay premise. Instead, Knight
described the story of Hamlet as an "Embassy of Death" with the Ghost being a true devil,
setting all the evil doings within the plot in motion. He even questioned if Claudius was truly a
treacherous villain. He referred to the image of Claudius at prayer, repenting of his crimes, while
Hamlet refuses to kill him, not wanting his soul to go to heaven. Further, Knight stated that
Hamlet was a very unpleasant person -- rude, callous, and sometimes ruthless -- to his mother,
Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern. Knight thinks that most critics have over
sentimentalized Hamlet's being. Many critics do agree that Hamlet embodies both good and evil.
Although he is basically innocent and pure, he has been tainted by the evil around him. As a
result, his procrastination leads to further ruin.
Hamlet Seen Solely as the Victim of External Difficulties
To see Hamlet solely as the victim of external problems is the simplest approach to the play.
Many critics argue, however, that Hamlet's tragedy is not a result of the supposed
weaknesses/flaws in his character or even mistakes in his judgement/action, but from the evil and
intolerable situation into which he is cruelly thrust. With his father dead and his mother
remarried to his enemy, Hamlet has no one to turn to for help; therefore, he is totally a victim of
circumstance. The critics further argue that the external situation prevents him from taking swift
action. After all, Claudius is an extremely powerful man now that he is King; any person would
have faced enormous difficulties in scheming against him. They excuse Hamlet's lack of action,
and in so doing, make him a much less interesting character.
The Romantic Interpretation of Hamlet
The Romantic critics of the nineteenth century, led by Coleridge, were more interested in the
character of Hamlet than in the plot construction of the play. For them, Hamlet was one of the
greatest artistic creations ever drawn by an author or playwright. They saw Hamlet as an
individual torn apart by doubt and fearful of taking action. As an idealist, Hamlet was unable to
deal with the harsh realities of life; as a result, he paid a tragic penalty. These critics often quoted
Hamlet's own words in support of their interpretation.

39. Many Romantic writers came to identify themselves with Hamlet. Coleridge went so far as to
admit that he had much of Hamlet in himself, for, like the Prince, he was more prone to thought
than to action. In fact, many Romantics felt that Hamlet's overdeveloped intellect made it
impossible for him to act. Instead, he became a sentimental dreamer, just like many of the
Romantics.
The Psychoanalytical Approach
The psychoanalytical approach focuses on the neurotic tendencies of Hamlet and judges him to
suffer from an Oedipus Complex. In ancient Greek mythology, Oedipus is the unconscious
instrument of an old curse, a destiny to murder his father and marry his mother. Today, many
psychologists feel that there are many sons who have developed erotic feelings for their mothers
and, as a result, they resent and hate their fathers. Normally, these feelings about their parents are
repressed, pushed into the unconscious; but from time to time, these feelings may overcome
repression and re-emerge due to crisis situations. The psychoanalysts believe that Hamlet's
possessiveness towards his mother proves his Oedipal Complex; they defend their arguments in
specifics from the play. Hamlet explicitly urges Gertrude not to have intercourse with Claudius;
moreover, he advises her to curb her desire to have sex as well. The psychoanalysts then argue
that Hamlet's repressed Oedipal Complex prevents him from killing Claudius. They feel that
Hamlet procrastinates because, in his subconscious, he does not really want to murder the man
who killed the father that he so envied. They also argue that it is Oedipal Complex prevents him
from committing himself to Ophelia.
The Historical Approach
The historical approach holds that only those theories prevalent in Shakespeare's time should be
utilized to interpret his texts. Supporters of this school of thought argue that the clue to Hamlet's
madness and his hesitancy in killing Claudius lies in his melancholic disposition. Indeed,
Shakespeare calls Hamlet the "melancholy Dane." The malady of melancholy was well known in
the Elizabethan age, and several treatises were written on the subject. Shakespeare had probably
read or heard about these treatises, which state that the primary characteristics of melancholy are
sadness, fear, distrust, doubt, despair, and diffidence. Sometimes the negative feelings are
interrupted by a false laughter or sardonic humor.
Hamlet displays all these traits of melancholy. He is extremely sad over the death of his father
and hasty remarriage of his mother; he is fearful and distrusting of the Ghost; he behaves with
diffidence as he procrastinates about taking revenge on Claudius; he falls into despair over his
inaction, even contemplating suicide. But from time to time, Hamlet jests sardonically with
people he dislikes, making it seem that his mood fluctuates between depression and elation.
While Hamlet's behavior can be reasonably explained in terms of melancholy, it is an extremely
simplistic approach to the problems of the tragic hero.

40. Twelfth Night
• Twelfth Night, or What You Will is a comedy by William Shakespeare, believed to have
been written around 1601–02 as a Twelfth Night's entertainment for the close of the
Christmas season.
• The play centres on the twins Viola and Sebastian, who are separated in a shipwreck. Viola
(who is disguised as a boy) falls in love with Duke Orsino, who in turn is in love with the
Countess Olivia.
• Upon meeting Viola, Countess Olivia falls in love with her thinking she is a man.
• The play expanded on the musical interludes and riotous disorder expected of the
occasion,
[2]
with plot elements drawn from the short story "Of Apollonius and Silla"
by Barnabe Rich, based on a story by Matteo Bandello.
• The first recorded performance was on 2 February 1602, at Candlemas, the formal end
of Christmastide in the year's calendar. The play was not published until its inclusion in the
1623 First Folio.
Setting
• Illyria, the setting of Twelfth Night, is important to the play's romantic atmosphere. Illyria
was an ancient region of the Western Balkans whose coast (the eastern coast of the Adriatic
Sea which is the only part of ancient Illyria which is relevant to the play) covered (from north
to south) the coasts of modern day Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro and Albania. It included
the city state of the Republic of Ragusa which has been proposed as the setting.
• Illyria may have been suggested by the Roman comedy Menaechmi, the plot of which also
involves twins who are mistaken for each other. Illyria is also referred to as a site of pirates
in Shakespeare's earlier play, Henry VI, Part 2.
• The names of most of the characters are Italian but some of the comic characters have
English names. Oddly the "Illyrian" lady Olivia has an English uncle, Sir Toby Belch.
• It has been noted that the play's setting also has other English allusions such as Viola's use of
"Westward ho!", a typical cry of 16th-century London boatmen, and also Antonio's
recommendation to Sebastian of "The Elephant" as where it is best to lodge in Illyria; The
Elephant was a pub not far from the Globe Theatre.
Sources
• The play is believed to have drawn extensively on the Italian
production Gl'ingannati (or The Deceived Ones), collectively written by the Accademia
degli Intronati in 1531. It is conjectured that the name of its male lead, Orsino, was suggested

41. by Virginio Orsini, Duke of Bracciano, an Italian nobleman who visited London in the winter
of 1600 to 1601.
• The actual Elizabethan festival of Twelfth Night would involve the antics of a Lord of
Misrule, who before leaving his temporary position of authority, would call for
entertainment, songs and mummery; the play has been regarded as preserving this festive and
traditional atmosphere of licensed disorder.
• This leads to the general inversion of the order of things, most notably gender roles.
• The embittered and isolated Malvolio can be regarded as an adversary of festive enjoyment
and community, led by Sir Toby Belch, "the vice-regent spokesman for cakes and ale" and
his partner in a comic stock duo, the simple and constantly exploited Sir Andrew Aguecheek.
• Viola is not alone among Shakespeare's cross-dressing heroines; in Shakespeare's theatre,
convention dictated that adolescent boys play the roles of female characters, creating humour
in the multiplicity of disguise found in a female character who for a while pretended at
masculinity.
• Her cross dressing enables Viola to fulfill usually male roles, such as acting as a messenger
between Orsino and Olivia, as well as being Orsino's confidant. She does not, however, use
her disguise to enable her to intervene directly in the plot (unlike other Shakespearean
heroines such as Rosalind in As You Like It and Portia in The Merchant of Venice), remaining
someone who allows "Time" to untangle the plot.
• Viola's persistence in transvestism through her betrothal in the final scene of the play often
engenders a discussion of the possibly homoerotic relationship between Viola and Orsino.
Her impassioned speech to Orsino, in which she describes an imaginary sister who "sat like
patience on a monument, / Smiling at grief" for her love, likewise causes many critics to
consider Viola's attitude of suffering in her love as a sign of the perceived weakness of the
feminine
Metatheatre
• At Olivia's first meeting with "Cesario" (Viola) in I.V she asks her "Are you a comedian?"
(an Elizabethan term for "actor").Viola's reply, "I am not that I play", epitomising her
adoption of the role of Cesario, is regarded as one of several references to theatricality and
"playing" within the play.
• The plot against Malvolio revolves around these ideas, and Fabian remarks in Act III, Scene
iv: "If this were play'd upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction". In
Act IV, Scene ii, Feste (The Fool) plays both parts in the "play" for Malvolio's benefit,
alternating between adopting the voice of the local curate, Sir Topas, and his own voice. He
finishes by likening himself to "the old Vice" of English Morality plays.
[16]
Other influences
of the English folk tradition can be seen in Feste's songs and dialogue, such as his final song
in Act V.The last line of this song, "And we'll strive to please you every day", is a direct echo
of similar lines from several English folk plays.

42. Influence
• The Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard opens his book Philosophical
Fragments with the quote "Better well hanged than ill wed" which is a paraphrase of
Feste's comment to Maria in Act 1, Scene 5: "Many a good hanging prevents a bad
marriage".
• Nietzsche also refers passingly to Twelfth Night (specifically, to Sir Andrew Aguecheek's
suspicion, expressed in Act 1, Scene 3, that his excessive intake of beef is having an
inverse effect on his wit) in the third essay of his Genealogy of Morality.
• Elizabeth Hand's novella Illyria features a high school production of Twelfth Night,
containing many references to the play, especially Feste's song.
• One of Club Penguin's plays, Twelfth Fish, is a spoof of Shakespeare's works. It is a story
about a countess, a jester, and a bard who catch a fish that talks. As the play ends, they
begin discussing eating the fish. Many of the lines are parodies of Shakespeare.
• Agatha Christie's 1940 mystery novel Sad Cypress draws its title from a song in Act II,
Scene IV of Twelfth Night.
• American Playwright Ken Ludwig wrote a play inspired by the details of Twelfth Night;
called Leading Ladies.
• Cassandra Clare's 2009 novel City of Glass contains chapter names inspired by
quotations of Antonio and Sebastian.
• Clive Barker's short story "Sex, Death and Starshine" revolves around a doomed
production of Twelfth Night.

Act I: Scene 1
Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, is sitting in his palace and enjoying himself by listening to music. He
is in love and is in a whimsical, romantic mood, luxuriating in the various emotions which the
music evokes. But he impulsively decides that he has heard enough, and after sending the
musicians away, he expounds on the subject of love. Curio, one of his pages, asks his master if
he wouldn't like to hunt; perhaps exercise will cure his master's soulful, philosophical moodiness.
Orsino replies that he would like to hunt — but he would like to hunt the lovely Olivia, to whom
he has sent another of his pages, Valentine, as an emissary. At that moment, Valentine enters.
But he brings such bad news that he begs "not [to] be admitted": Olivia's brother has died, and

43. she has vowed to mourn her brother's death for seven years. Surprisingly, the news does not
dampen Orsino's spirit. He rhapsodizes on how a girl with such sensitivity can express her
emotions; if she "hath a heart of that fine frame," he says, then she would be even more devoted
and loyal to a lover.
The duke is in love, and his famous first lines announce this feeling:
If music be the food of love, play on!
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die. (1-3)
But the duke is not in love with any one particular person (even though it would be foolish not to
acknowledge, of course, the Lady Olivia); but most of all, the duke is in love with love itself;
after all, the Lady Olivia has rejected his protestations of love, and yet he continues to insist that
she marry him. The duke thoroughly delights in giving himself up to the exquisite delights of his
own passions, but actually he does little to try to possess the object of his affections. In fact, this
is the reason why he will later use Viola (Cesario) to do his courting for him.
Act I: Scene 2
Viola and a sea captain and several sailors enter. They have been shipwrecked on the seacoast of
Illyria and have barely escaped drowning. The captain congratulates Viola on not being
drowned, for he tells her that when their ship split in half, he saw her brother, Sebastian, tie
himself to a mast; yet even that, he fears, did not save Sebastian, for he saw him and the mast
borne away on the waves. According to the captain, there is a slim chance that Sebastian
survived, but there is a strong possibility that only the captain, Viola, and these few sailors are
the sole survivors. Viola is appreciative of the captain's kind, if cautious, optimism; she gives
him some gold coins and asks him if he has any idea where they are. The captain does; he knows
Illyria well. He was born and reared here, and he tells Viola that the country is governed by a
"noble Duke," Duke Orsino. Viola recognizes the name; her father spoke of him. The duke is a
bachelor, she believes.
The captain is not so sure that this fact is still true; he says that according to current gossip, the
duke has been seeking the love of "fair Olivia," but he says that Olivia is a virgin and that she is
determined to remain so. Following the death of Olivia's father (a year ago) and the death of her
brother (just recently), Olivia forswore men altogether.
The story intrigues Viola; she herself is now in mourning for her brother, Sebastian, and nothing
would please her more than to serve Olivia. The captain, however, says that such a plan is
impossible. Olivia will see no one. For a moment, Viola ponders, then she devises an ingenious
scheme. She will disguise herself as a young eunuch, and she will pay the captain handsomely
for his aid if he presents her to Duke Orsino. She will sing for the duke, play any number of
musical instruments for him and — in short — she will ingratiate herself in his household. The
captain agrees, and they exit.
Act I: Scene 3
At Olivia's house, Sir Toby Belch, Olivia's uncle, is criticizing his niece for mourning the death
of her brother so profusely. He says to her serving girl, Maria, that his niece is melodramatically
overreacting, and he thoroughly disapproves. Maria disapproves of several things herself: she
disapproves of Sir Toby's arriving at such a late hour, dressing so slovenly, and drinking so

44. much. Only yesterday, Olivia complained of these things, plus the fact that Sir Toby brought
someone who he thinks is the perfect suitor to the house, Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Despite
Maria's calling Aguecheek a "fool and a prodigal," Sir Toby is proud of the chap — a fitting
suitor for his niece: Aguecheek, he says, receives three thousand ducats a year, plays the
violincello, and speaks several languages. Maria is not impressed. To her, the man is reputed to
be a gambler, a quarreler, a coward, and a habitual drunkard.
When Sir Andrew joins them, there follows a brief exchange of jests, most of them at Sir
Andrew's expense. Maria leaves, and the two men discuss Sir Andrew's chances as a prospective
suitor of Olivia. Sir Andrew is discouraged and ready to ride home tomorrow, but Sir Toby
persuades him to prolong his visit for another month, especially since Sir Andrew delights in
masques and revels and, as Sir Toby points out, Sir Andrew is a superb dancer and an acrobat, as
well. Laughing and joking, the two men leave the stage. It is obvious that Sir Toby has a secret
and mysterious purpose for wanting to persuade Sir Andrew to stay and woo the fair Olivia.
Act I: Scene 4
In Duke Orsino's palace, one of his pages, Valentine, enters, accompanied by Viola, disguised as
a young eunuch, Cesario. By their conversation, we realize that after only three days, Cesario has
already become a great favorite with the duke. In fact, Viola has won Orsino's confidence and
favor so thoroughly that when "Cesario" enters, Orsino sends the others away so that he and
Cesario might be alone. He asks Cesario to do him a very special, very personal favor. Cesario is
to be the duke's messenger, his proxy, and carry notes of love from Orsino to Olivia. Cesario is
to explain in detail the passion which Orsino has for Olivia and, in addition, Cesario is to enact
Orsino's "woes." Furthermore, because Cesario himself is so beautifully handsome, Orsino
believes that his avowals of love will be all the better received. His reasoning is that his love
messages will entice the fair Olivia favorably because they will be presented in such a handsome
package, as it were. Orsino also says that if Cesario is successful, he will be well rewarded; he
will "live as freely as thy lord / To call his fortune thine."
Cesario is reluctant; in an aside, he reveals that "he" (Viola in disguise) has fallen in love with
Orsino. Ironically, as Cesario, Viola will be doing some wooing for a man whom she would
gladly have as a husband herself.
Act I: Scene 5
In Olivia's house, Maria and Feste, the jester, are exchanging quips. Olivia, she tells him, is
piqued because of Feste's absence. She jokingly tells him that Olivia may hang him, but Feste is
not intimidated. "Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage," he retorts. He delights in
teasing Maria, whom he is complimenting in mock extravagance when Olivia and her steward,
Malvolio, enter.
The two of them are very grave and very serious. Olivia orders Feste away, but Feste stays on,
determined to amuse his mistress; he launches into a series of jokes that eventually amuse Olivia,
despite her serious mien. But Feste's merriment does not amuse the pompous and humorless
Malvolio. Malvolio says that the jester is a weak and sick man, as is his wit. Malvolio's arrogant
scorn delights Feste, and he easily parries Malvolio's weak wit and, thereby, impresses Olivia.
She tells Malvolio that he is "sick of self-love" and "distempered." Jesters, she says, do not
slander; it is their craft, a harmless craft, and that Feste is only reproving Malvolio.

45. Maria enters and tells them that a fair young man from Duke Orsino has arrived and wishes an
interview with Olivia, but that he is being detained by Olivia's uncle, Sir Toby. Olivia's temper
flares. She will not be wooed by the duke — nor by anyone else. She doesn't care what the
messenger is told; any excuse will do. She wants to see no suitors, she says, and she tells Maria
to send the young man away immediately. While Maria and Malvolio are gone, Sir Toby
appears. He is drunk, and Feste has a marvellous opportunity to ape Olivia's old uncle's drunken
antics. Olivia is amused by Feste's cleverness, and her mood softens; she sends Feste to look
after her uncle after he exits. She wants to make sure that nothing serious happens to him in his
inebriated condition.
Malvolio enters and tells Olivia that the "fair young man" is indeed "fair" and "young," and that
he is, in addition, persistent. Olivia relents and agrees to see the lad — as long as Maria is
present. She then veils her face before he enters.
Viola, disguised as Cesario, enters and begins his mission by addressing Olivia with many
compliments, while adroitly avoiding answering Olivia's questions about his status and
background, for Olivia is very inquisitive about this fair, young "man." Cesario continues, and
Olivia at last feels so comfortable with the fellow that she dismisses Maria, and the two of them
begin to speak of Duke Orsino and his status as a suitor for Olivia's hand in marriage. Olivia is
eventually persuaded to unveil herself, and she presents her beautiful face to Cesario — to which
"he" responds playfully and most positively: "Excellently done, if God did all." Cesario then
laments that the owner of such beauty is indeed cruel if she would carry her "graces to the grave"
and "leave the world no copy." He reassures her of Orsino's love, but Olivia says that she doubts
that Orsino's love is of any real depth. He does not truly know her; therefore, he must press his
suit no further. Yet, on the other hand, if Cesario wishes to come again, Olivia will be most
happy to see him. She hands the young man a purse of money for his troubles, but Cesario
refuses it. Indignantly, he says that he is no "fee'd post." He bids Olivia farewell — farewell to
her "fair cruelty."
Absolutely intrigued with young Cesario, Olivia calls to Malvolio. She tells him to follow
Orsino's messenger and to return a ring that he left behind. She also tells Malvolio to inform
Cesario that if the youth returns tomorrow, she will explain in detail why Orsino's suit is
impossible.
Olivia has fallen in love. The ring is a ruse; Cesario left no ring. Olivia is merely trying to
arrange a rendezvous tomorrow between herself and the handsome young envoy from Duke
Orsino.
Act II: Scene 1
The second act begins on the seacoast of Illyria. Viola's twin brother, Sebastian, was not
drowned after all. He survived the shipwreck and enters on stage talking with Antonio, a sea
captain (not the same sea captain who managed to reach shore with Viola). Sebastian, like his
sister Viola, is deeply grieved; he is sure that Viola was lost at sea and perished in the storm. He
blames the stars and "the malignancy of [his] fate" for his dark mood and his misfortune. He
turns to the sea captain, and, feeling that he can be straightforward with him because of what
they have both just experienced, he tells the captain that he wants to be alone. He needs solitude
because of his terrible grief; his troubles are many, and he fears that they will spread like an
illness and "distemper" the sea captain's mood. He cares too much for the captain to unburden his
woes on him.

46. Antonio, however, will not leave Sebastian; his friendship for the young man is strong enough to
withstand Sebastian's emotionalism. Sebastian's composure suddenly breaks, and he bewails his
lot; if Antonio had not saved him, he would now be dead at the bottom of the sea, alongside his
beloved sister. "If the heavens had been pleased," his fate would have been the same as his
sister's. He then recalls his sister's beauty, and he remembers her keen mind, a mind that was
extraordinary and enviable. At this point, Antonio protests. Sebastian was correct when he spoke
earlier of his dark moodiness being able to "distemper" Antonio's temperament. The sea captain
says that Sebastian's lamentations are "bad entertainment," a fact that Sebastian quickly realizes
and quickly apologizes for.
Antonio changes the subject to matters more practical and more immediate. He asks Sebastian if
he can be the young man's servant. That single favor would please him immensely. That single
favor, however, Sebastian cannot grant him, for as much as he would like to do so, he dare not
take Antonio with him. His destination is Duke Orsino's court and Antonio has "many enemies"
in Orsino's court. Yet "come what may," Antonio says that he will always treasure his friendship
with Sebastian. Thus, he will go with Sebastian. Antonio's devotion to Sebastian is admirable; he
recognizes the dangers ahead if he follows Sebastian to Orsino's palace, but after the horrors of
the shipwreck, future "danger shall seem sport."
Act II: Scene 2
Viola, still in disguise as Cesario, comes on stage and is followed by Malvolio, who catches up
with the lad and asks him if he is indeed the young man who was with the Countess Olivia only a
short time ago. Cesario admits that it was he, and Malvolio holds out a ring to him — seemingly
a ring that Duke Orsino sent to Olivia, one which Cesario left behind by mistake. Malvolio adds
sarcastically that Cesario would have saved Malvolio the time and trouble of returning it if
Cesario had not been so absent-minded. Scornfully, Malvolio tells Cesario to return to his
master, Orsino, and tell him that Olivia "will none of him," and furthermore he warns Cesario
that he should "never be so hardy to come again in his [Orsino's] affairs."
Cesario is dumbfounded by Malvolio's high-handed manner; then, matching Malvolio's
insolence, he says, "I'll none of it." Malvolio is incensed at Cesario's haughty manner and flings
the ring to the ground; if Cesario wants it and "if it be worth stooping for, there it lies." With
that, he exits abruptly.
Left alone, Viola ponders all that has happened; she is absolutely certain that she left no ring
with Olivia, yet why does Olivia believe that she did and, moreover, why did she send Malvolio
with such urgency to return it? Then she realizes what may have happened, and she is horrified:
can it be possible that Olivia has fallen in love with Viola's boyish disguise? She is aghast:
"fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her!" Thinking back on their interview, however,
she clearly recalls that Olivia certainly "made good view of me; indeed, so much / That sure
methought her eyes had lost her tongue."
The evidence is clear. Olivia has indeed fallen in love with Cesario; when she spoke to the young
man, she spoke in starts and spurts, and her manner was vague and distracted. Now "the winning
of her passion" has sent Malvolio after the "boy" whom she believes to be the object of her love.
Viola pities Olivia; it would be better for the poor Olivia to "love a dream." Viola recognizes that
"disguise . . . art a wickedness." She aptly calls disguise a "pregnant enemy," an enemy able to
play havoc with "women's waxen hearts." Like Olivia, Viola too is a woman. She knows the
anguish of love: "Our frailty is the cause, not we," she meditates, "for such are we made of."

47. This is a dreadfully complicated knot. Viola loves her master, Orsino, who loves the beautiful
but disdainful Olivia, who loves the handsome Cesario (who is not a man at all, but is Viola, in
disguise). Viola calls on Time to untangle this knot, for she is incapable of doing so herself; "it is
too hard a knot for me to untie."
Act II: Scene 3
At Olivia's house, it is late and Sir Toby and Sir Andrew have been drinking, or "revelling," as
they call it. They are noisily celebrating — reciting fragments of songs, Latin sayings, and old
country proverbs. They play at logic: Sir Andrew says in all inebriated seriousness that "to be up
late is to be up late." Sir Toby absolutely disagrees: "a false conclusion," he pronounces, and a
flaw in reasoning, a vexation which he dislikes as much as he does an empty beer mug. Then he
launches into an involved, implausible, and ridiculous diatribe involving the hours of the day and
of the night and the four elements, and ends by praising Sir Andrew for being such a superb
scholar because Sir Andrew agrees with Sir Toby's final conclusion — that "life . . . consists of
eating and drinking," which reminds Sir Toby that what they both need is another drink. Thus he
bellows loudly for "Marian" (Maria) to fetch them "a stoup of wine."
Feste, the jester, has not gone to bed and is delighted to come in and discover a party going on.
They all joke uproariously in broad comedy about their all being asses, and then they attempt to
approximate the acerbic flair of high comedy, but their bits and pieces of joking become so
disjointed that it is impossible to know exactly what they are laughing about, nor is it terribly
important. The point is, they are having manly, goodhearted drunken fun and, therefore, they
indulge quite naturally in some loud singing. Very naturally, one of the first songs is a love song.
It is sung by Feste and begins "O mistress mine" and concerns men wooing their true loves. The
second verse praises the experience of love: love is an act, to be acted upon; "tis not hereafter."
The future, according to the song, is unsure, therefore, lovers should kiss for "youth's a stuff
[which] will not endure." The philosophy of the song is agreeable to all, as is Feste's "mellifluous
voice," according to the tipsy Sir Andrew. Sir Toby criticizes Feste's breath, pondering
momentarily on the possibility of one's being able to hear with one's nose. Then in the next
breath, he suggests that they celebrate so thoroughly that they will "rouse the night-owl" and
make the sky itself (the "welkin") dance. Sir Andrew thinks that this is a splendid idea: "I am dog
at a catch," he cries out, meaning that he is clever at singing. Yet no sooner do they begin, than
their tongues tumble over the words "knaves" and "knights," two completely different kinds of
men, and they attempt to begin all over again when Maria comes in. She warns them that their
"caterwauling," their wailing like three sex-starved tomcats, is going to get them thrown out of
the place. If Olivia is awakened, she will have her steward, Malvolio, toss them all out. Neither
Sir Toby nor Sir Andrew pays any attention whatsoever to her; they are too far gone in their
cups, and they call Olivia a "Cataian" (a bitch) and call Malvolio a "Peg-a-Ramsey." This latter
slur is very insulting, referring to an over-the-hill, henpecked impotent man who woefully longs
for the long-gone days when men sported yellow hose and wooed the village maids. Sir Toby
begins a new song, with the words "On the twelfth day of December . . ." and suddenly they are
all startled to see a figure in the doorway. It is Malvolio.
He is haughty and as imperious as Maria warned them that he would be. He tells them that Olivia
has said that either they must quiet down or else they must leave the house. Sir Toby and Feste
mock Malvolio's edicts with satiric farewells, and Malvolio becomes furious. He is scandalized
to hear such insults in his lady Olivia's house. He turns on Maria and attempts to shame her for
allowing such misbehavior. He shall report her part in all this "uncivil rule." He warns them that

48. they should make no mistake about what he plans to do. Their insubordination will be reported
immediately!
Resentful of Malvolio's lordly posings, the drunken merrymakers loudly applaud Maria's
proposed plan to outwit the sharp-tongued, all-important Malvolio. She will forge a letter in
Olivia's handwriting ("some obscure epistles of love") that will contain soulful, sighing
admirations for "the color of [Malvolio's] beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the
expression of his eye, forehead, and complexion" — in short, in a very brief time, Malvolio will
mistakenly believe that Olivia is in love with him. "A sport royal," Maria predicts. With that, she
tells them to hide and eavesdrop on Malvolio when "he shall find the letter." She then bids them
goodnight; the three men are intoxicated at the thought of what will ensue. Malvolio will be
made a fool of; he has needed such an experience for a long time, and this exciting prospect, of
course, calls for a drink.
Act II: Scene 4
At Orsino's palace, the duke is gathered together with Cesario (Viola), Curio, and others, and he
says that he would like to hear a song, a certain "old and antique" song that he heard last night;
the song seemed to "relieve [his] passion much." Feste, the jester, is not there to sing it, however,
so Orsino sends Curio out to find him and, while Curio is gone, Orsino calls Cesario to him. He
tells the young lad that "if ever [Cesario] shalt love," then he should remember how Orsino
suffered while he experienced love's sweet pangs. Orsino tells Cesario that Orsino himself is the
sad epitome of all lovers — "unstaid and skittish" — except when he recalls "the constant
image" of his beloved. Cesario hints that love has already enthroned itself within him, and
Orsino remarks that he believes that Cesario is indeed correct. He can tell by looking at the boy
that his "eye / Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves." Cesario acknowledges that this is true.
The duke is intrigued; he is curious about the woman who has caught Cesario's fancy, and he
begins to question the lad.
Cesario says that the object of his love is a great deal like Orsino, a confession that makes Orsino
scoff: "She is not worth thee, then," he says. When he learns that Cesario's "beloved" is about
Orsino's own age, he becomes indignant. A woman, he says, should take someone "elder than
herself." He says that women, by nature, are not able to love with the same intensity as a young
man is able to love; women need to find themselves a steady, doggedly devoted older man whose
passions are burned low and, thus, more equal to hers. Cesario, Orsino suggests, needs to find a
very young virgin, one who has just blossomed, "for women are as a rose [and] being once
displayed, do fall that very hour." Cesario sadly agrees; women, he says, often "die, even when
they to perfection grow."
Curio and Feste enter then, and Feste is more than happy to sing the song that he sang last night.
He urges Cesario, in particular, to take note of it for although it is "old and plain," it is a song
that is well known. Spinsters sing it, as do young maidens; its theme concerns the simple truth of
love's innocence. The song begins, "Come away, come away, death . . ." (which is certainly a
melancholy evocation) and goes on to lament unrequited love — of which Orsino and Viola (and
Olivia) all suffer. The lover of the song is a young man who has been "slain" by "a fair cruel
maid," and, his heart broken, he asks for a shroud of white to encase his body. He wants no
flowers strewn on his black coffin; nor does he want friends nor mourners present when he is
lowered into the grave. In fact, he wants to be buried in a secret place so that no other "sad true
lover" will chance to find his grave and find reason to weep there. The emphasis here is on

49. the innocence of love, and our focus is on poor Viola, who has innocently fallen in love with
Duke Orsino, who believes that she is only a handsome young man, to whom he feels "fatherly."
Orsino gives Feste some money for singing the mournful ballad, and, in return, Feste praises his
good and generous master and then exits. The duke then excuses the others, and when he and
Cesario are alone, he turns to the boy and tells him that he must return to Olivia and her
"sovereign cruelty." He tells Cesario that he must convince Olivia that Orsino's love is "more
noble than the world." It is not her riches which he seeks (her "quantity of dirty lands"); instead,
he prizes her as a "queen of gems." It is his soul which loves her. When Cesario asks what he
should say if Olivia protests that she absolutely cannot love Orsino, the duke refuses to accept
such an answer.
Cesario then grows bold and tells Orsino that perhaps there is "some lady" who has "as great a
pang of heart" for him as he has for Olivia. Orsino refuses to acknowledge that women can love
with the passion that men can:
. . . no woman's sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much. (92-95)
True love, he says, using a typically Elizabethan analogy, lies in one's liver, and a woman's love
lies only on the tip of her tongue. Women may talk sweetly, but women cannot "suffer surfeit,
cloyment and revolt," pains of the liver which are reserved for only men. He wants to make it
perfectly clear to Cesario that there is "no compare / Between that love a woman can bear me /
And that I owe Olivia."
Cesario now becomes bolder still and says that women can indeed love with as much passion as
men can. He knows it to be so, for his father had a daughter who loved a man with as much
passion as Cesario himself could love Orsino — that is, if Cesario were a woman. Then Cesario
realizes that perhaps he has said enough on the subject, but when Orsino inquires further
concerning the history of this "sister," Cesario's imagination is rekindled. He returns to the theme
of the unrequited lover and conjures up a sad tale about his "sister" who loved so purely and so
passionately and so privately that love became "like a worm in the bud" of her youth and fed "on
her damask cheek." Turning to Orsino, he says, "We men may say more, swear more," but talk is
often empty. His sister died, Cesario sighs, and now he is "all the daughters of my father's house,
/ And all the brothers too." With this cryptic statement in mind, the duke gives Cesario a jewel.
He is to present it to Olivia, and he is to "bide no denay" — that is, he is not to take No for an
answer. Orsino is determined to have Olivia's love.
Act II: Scene 5
Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian (another of Olivia's servants) have agreed to meet in Olivia's
garden, and as the scene begins, the three men enter, Sir Toby urging Fabian on. But Fabian, as
we quickly realize, needs no urging; he is more than anxious to relish every minute of their plan
to make a fool of Malvolio. Like Sir Toby and Sir Andrew, Fabian has his own quarrel with the
prudish, sharp-tongued Malvolio. It seems that Malvolio reported to Olivia that Fabian was
"bear-baiting," a popular (if cruel) Elizabethan sport and one which Fabian enjoys. Sir Toby
predicts that very soon Malvolio will be the "bear," for the bait will soon be set. They do not
have long to wait, for, as Sir Toby points out, "Here comes the little villain."

50. Before Malvolio comes onstage, however, Maria rushes in and makes sure that they are all well
concealed in a "box-tree" (a long hedge trimmed to look like a box). Satisfied, she puts the
forged love letter in the garden path, where Malvolio will be sure to find it. "The trout"
(Malvolio), she vows, will be caught with "tickling" (having his vanity tickled).
When Malvolio enters, he is greedily weighing the possibility that Olivia may be falling in love
with him. Maria herself, he says, confirmed such a notion, and he himself has heard Olivia say
that if ever she should choose a husband, that man would be someone very much like Malvolio;
also, Malvolio believes that Olivia treats him with more respect than she does any of her other
suitors. The thought of Malvolio's being "Count Malvolio" overwhelms him. He conjures up
visions of himself — married to Olivia for three months and lovingly letting her sleep in the
morning while he, robed in a "velvet gown," rises from the bed and calls his officers to him. He
imagines himself reminding his officers to remember their place. Then he would call for his
"Cousin Toby," and while he is waiting, he would "frown the while," and toy with his watch or
with "some rich jewel." He envisions Sir Toby approaching, curtsying and quaking, as Malvolio
reminds him that because "fortune" has given Malvolio "this prerogative of speech," he will
austerely command his "kinsman" to "amend [his] drunkenness." He will also inform Sir Toby
that he "wastes the treasure of . . . time with a foolish knight" — a contemptuous slur at Sir
Andrew.
At this point, Malvolio spies the "love note." He reads it and is absolutely convinced that it was
written by Olivia. The script and the phraseology are Olivia's, and the note also has her stamp
that she uses for sealing letters. As he reads the poem of love, Malvolio ponders over its mystery.
Olivia confesses that only "Jove knows" whom she truly loves; her lips cannot say and "no man
must know." The first stanza is unclear, but Malvolio finds hope in the second stanza that it is
indeed he whom Olivia loves, for she writes that she "may command where I adore." Surely she
refers to him; he is her steward and is at her command. He reads on and finds that the author of
the poem says that because she cannot speak the name of her beloved, that "silence, like a
Lucrece knife / With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore." Such passion thrills Malvolio, but his
emotions are stilled by the poem's puzzling last line: "M, O, A, I, doth sway my life." He reasons
that "M" could stand for "Malvolio," but it should logically be followed by "A," and not by "O."
And what of the "I" at the end? Yet the letters could feasibly be pieces of an anagram of his
name because his name does contain all those letters, albeit in a different sequence.
Then enclosed with the poem, Malvolio discovers a prose letter, which he reads aloud. The
author of the letter says that if this letter should, by accident, "fall into [her beloved's] hand," he
should be aware that the woman who loves him is, because of the stars (fate) "above" him
(meaning that she is socially superior to him), but she begs him not to fear her "greatness." She
then states words that have been much-quoted ever since: ". . . some are born great, some achieve
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em." Maria, despite being a mere maid, has done
a masterful job of composing exquisite, apologetic modesty, coupled with the tenderness of a
love that cannot speak its name.
The author of the love letter continues: Fate beckons to her beloved; he is urged to cast off his
usual garments and, instead, he is "commended" to wear yellow stockings, cross-gartered. And,
in addition, he should be more "surly with servants"; his tongue should have a "tang." If he does
not do all of these things, he will be thought of as no more than a "steward still" and "not worthy
to touch Fortune's fingers." The note is signed with a popular Elizabethan lover's device — an

51. oxymoron: "The Fortunate Unhappy." The incongruity of combining one mood with its opposite
was considered the epitome of epigrammatic wit.
Malvolio is exultant after reading the letter. He vows, as he was "commended," to be proud and
to baffle Sir Toby. To him, there can be no doubt that Olivia wrote the love letter, and if she
desires him to wear "yellow stockings . . . cross-gartered," then yellow stockinged and cross-
gartered he shall be. His joy is so rapturous that he almost overlooks a postscript: the author is
sure that her beloved, if he finds her letter, will recognize himself as her heart's secret treasure; if
so, he is to acknowledge his own affection. He is to smile; she repeats the command three times:
he is to smile and smile and smile. In other words, Maria is going to make the usually sober and
uppity Malvolio look like a grinning fool.
Malvolio exits, and Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian emerge from the hedge, just as Maria
enters. They are all in excellent spirits. Sir Toby is prepared to marry Maria for her cleverness;
he even offers to lie under her and allow her to put her foot upon his neck in the classical
position of the victor and the vanquished. She has succeeded beyond all their expectations. Maria
says that they won't have long to wait to see the results of their prank. Malvolio is sure to try to
see Olivia as soon as possible, and, Maria says, Olivia detests yellow stockings, and cross-garters
are a fashion which Olivia abhors; in addition, Olivia is usually so melancholy about the fact that
she cannot choose a husband for herself that Malvolio's endless smiling will drive her into a fury.
So off the pranksters go, arm in arm, eagerly anticipating their comic revenge on the officious
Malvolio.
Act III: Scene 1
Viola, disguised as Cesario, has come to plead Orsino's case with Olivia and is now sitting in
Olivia's garden, chatting with Feste, Olivia's jester. They play an innocent game of verbal
sparring. Their wit is inconsequential, but Cesario cuts it off suddenly, for he tells Feste that
while it is pleasant to "dally nicely" with words in harmless punning matches, such duels of wit
can easily turn into games of bawdy, "wanton" double entendres. Cesario reminds Feste that
Feste is, after all, Olivia's "fool" (another term for jester, but here it is intended to also carry a
literal connotation). Feste easily parries Cesario's gentle reprimand. The Lady Olivia, he tells
Cesario, has no fool; in fact, she will have no fool "till she be married." Indeed, he is not her
fool; he is her "corrupter of words." Again, he bests Cesario's own keen wit, while being as
"subservient" as possible to the handsome young man; and in this connection, one should note
that in this scene, Feste's etiquette of status is ever-present; he prefaces almost every verbal parry
between the two with the polite "Sir." Yet there is a good spirit of camaraderie in this scene
between the two people. In fact, Feste would enjoy their sparring even more, he says, if Cesario
were older and wiser and more worldly; he remarks that it is time that Jove sent Cesario a beard.
Viola, forgetting herself momentarily, confesses that she is "almost sick for one" — and then she
realizes what she was about to say: she is literally almost sick for the love of a man, which of
course she can't hope to have as long as she is disguised as a man herself.
At this point, Feste goes in to announce to Olivia that Cesario awaits her in the garden, and while
Feste is gone, Viola soliloquizes on the nature of "playing the fool." She recognizes Feste's
intelligence; it takes a mature sensitivity to deal with the varying temperaments and moods of
one's superiors while attempting to soothe and entertain them. A jester's wit must be just
witty enough; he must tread a thin nimble-witted line, without overstepping social bounds.
"Playing the fool," being a jester, Viola says, is "a wise man's art."

52. While Cesario is waiting, Sir Toby and Sir Andrew enter and joke with Cesario, but whereas
Cesario and Feste entertained the audience with high comedy, Sir Toby and Sir Andrew indulge
in low comedy. Like everyone else (with the exception of Malvolio), both men are quite
impressed with Cesario, especially Sir Andrew, and much of their joking focuses on their
attempting to mimic Cesario's manners. Summing up Cesario, Sir Andrew comments, "That
youth's a rare courtier."
Olivia and Maria enter, and Olivia quickly dismisses Maria, Uncle Toby, and Sir Andrew so that
she can be alone with Cesario. Immediately, she asks for Cesario's hand and then for his name.
When he answers her that he is her servant, she protests: he is Orsino's servant. But, Cesario
reminds Olivia, because he is Orsino's servant, and because his master is her servant (because of
his love for her), therefore, he himself is her servant. Olivia is distracted by such logic and such
talk of Orsino. All of her thoughts are on Cesario, and she would like him to think only of her; as
for Orsino, she would prefer that his mind would be absolutely blank rather than filled with
thoughts of her. She never wants to hear about Orsino again — or his "suit" (his wooing). She
would much prefer that Cesario would present his own "suit" to her — that is, to woo her on his
own behalf.
She confesses that the ruse of the forgotten ring and her sending Malvolio after Cesario was only
an excuse; she simply wanted any excuse to have Cesario return to her. She desperately wants to
hear words of love from him; she begs him to speak. But all Cesario can reply is that he pities
her. Olivia accepts Cesario's rejection with a certain dignity, but she certainly accepts it with
undisguised disappointment. How much better for her, she says, if her heart had cast her before
"a lion" (a nobleman) rather than before "a wolf" (a servant). She then tells Cesario not to be
afraid; she will not press him any further for love that he cannot give. Yet she cannot but envy
the lucky woman who finally will "harvest" this youth.
Cesario makes ready to go, then he pauses; he asks Olivia one last time if she has any words for
Orsino. She begs Cesario to linger: "Stay," she entreats him, and "prithee, tell me what thou
think'st of me." Cesario and Olivia both confess ambiguously that they are not what they seem,
and then Olivia can stand no more. She ends Cesario's adroit evasions of her questions with a
passionate declaration of love:
I love thee, so, that maugre [despite] all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. (148-49)
Despite this beautiful and spontaneous declaration of love, Cesario of course cannot encourage
Olivia, even as a gesture of friendship. He must, in order to maintain his disguise, reject her
declarations of love. He tells her, therefore, in the plainest way he can, that he has but "one
heart" and that he has given it to "no woman" — nor shall any woman be the "mistress" of that
heart, "save I alone." Thus he must bid Olivia adieu; nevermore will he come to speak of his
master's love for her. In desperation, Olivia pleads with Cesario: "Come again"; perhaps his heart
may yet change and perhaps he may yet come to love her.
Act III: Scene 2
At Olivia's house, Sir Andrew is becoming angry and frustrated. He is making absolutely no
progress in winning the affections of Olivia; he is convinced that she bestows more favors on
"the count's serving man" (Cesario) than she does on Sir Andrew. He tells Sir Toby and Fabian
that he saw Olivia and Cesario in the orchard, and it was plain to him that Olivia is in love with
Cesario. Fabian disagrees; he argues that Olivia is only using Cesario as a ploy to disguise her

53. love for Sir Andrew and thereby make Sir Andrew jealous. Fabian thinks that Sir Andrew should
have challenged Cesario on the spot and "banged the youth into dumbness." He laments the fact
that Sir Andrew has lost his chance to prove his valor before Olivia's eyes. Now Sir Andrew will
"hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard" unless he redeems himself by some great and
glorious deed. Sir Toby agrees. He proposes that Sir Andrew challenge Cesario to a duel. They
themselves will deliver the challenge. Sir Andrew agrees to the plan and goes off to find a pen
and some paper, and while he is gone, Sir Toby and Fabian chuckle over the practical joke they
have just arranged. They are sure that neither Sir Andrew nor Cesario will actually provoke the
other into a real duel.
Maria arrives onstage with the news that Malvolio "does obey every point of the letter." He is
sporting yellow stockings; he is cross-gartered, and he "does smile his face into more lines than
is in the new map . . . of the Indies."
Act III: Scene 3
Sebastian, Viola's twin brother, and Antonio, the sea captain, enter. They are strolling down a
street not far from Duke Orsino's palace, and Antonio is explaining that because of his fondness
and concern for Sebastian, he simply could not let him wander around Illyria alone, even though
he knows that it is risky for him to accompany Sebastian. He knows that he is likely to be
arrested on sight if he is recognized, but he had no choice: he likes Sebastian so much that he
cannot bear to think of any harm coming to him.
Sebastian is very grateful for the risk which Antonio is taking, and Antonio tells him that it is
best that already he should be taking precautions. He asks to be excused so that he can take
cover. He gives Sebastian his purse, and they arrange to meet in an hour at a tavern called The
Elephant. Thus Sebastian, with a purse full of money in hand, goes off to see the sights of the
town.
Act III: Scene 4
Olivia and Maria are in the garden, and Olivia is making plans to entertain Cesario; she sent him
an invitation, and he has promised to come to visit her. She is very excited at the prospect and
wonders how to treat him, how to "feast him." She is afraid that he will think that she is trying to
"buy" him. Where is Malvolio, she wonders; he is usually grave and polite and can be counted
on to calm her nerves.
Smiling foolishly, Malvolio enters. His whole appearance has changed since we last saw him; his
dark clothes are gone, as is his dour appearance. Maria's forged love note has changed him from
being "sad and civil" into being a merrily smiling fabrication of a courtier; he complains a bit
about the cross-gartering causing "some obstruction in the blood," but he suffers gladly — if it
will please Olivia. Smiling again and again, he kisses his hand and blows his kisses toward
Olivia. She is dumbfounded by his unexplainable, incongruous dress and behavior, but Malvolio
doesn't seem to notice. He prances before her, quoting various lines of the letter which he
supposes that Olivia wrote to him, and in particular, he dwells on the "greatness" passage. Olivia
tries to interrupt what he is saying, but to no avail; he rambles on and on until she is convinced
that he must be suffering from "midsummer madness."
A servant announces the arrival of Cesario, and Olivia places the "mad" Malvolio in Maria's
charge; in fact, she suggests that the whole household staff should look after him. Meanwhile,
Malvolio, remembering the orders which Maria inserted into the letter, spurns Maria, is hostile to

54. Sir Toby, and is insulting to Fabian. He finally drives them all to exasperation and fury, and
when he leaves, they make plans to lock him up in a dark room, a common solution for handling
a lunatic in Elizabethan days. Olivia won't mind, says Sir Toby: "My niece is already in the
belief that he's mad."
Sir Andrew enters, and he carries a copy of his challenge to Cesario. He is exceedingly proud of
the language, which, we discover as Sir Toby reads it aloud, is exceedingly stilted and obtuse
and, in short, is exceedingly ridiculous. Sir Andrew's spirits are high, and Maria decides that the
time is ripe for more fun: she tells him that Cesario is inside with Olivia. Sir Toby adds that now
is the time to corner the lad and as soon as he sees him, he should draw his sword and "swear
horrible." According to Sir Toby, "a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off,
gives manhood." Offering his services, Sir Toby says that he will deliver Sir Andrew's challenge
"by word of mouth." He is sure that Cesario, clever young man that he is, will instantly see the
harmless humor in the absurdly worded challenge; it couldn't possibly "breed . . . terror in the
youth." And thus the practical jokers exit — just as Olivia and Cesario enter.
This scene-within-a-scene is very much like ones we have already witnessed: Cesario pleads that
his master, Duke Orsino, should be considered a serious suitor, and Olivia changes the subject to
Cesario himself, as she gives him a diamond brooch containing a miniature portrait of herself.
Cesario accepts it politely and courteously, and Olivia exits.
Sir Toby and Fabian enter and stop Cesario before he can leave for Orsino's palace. Sir Toby
tells Cesario that Sir Andrew, his "interceptor," is waiting for him and is ready to challenge him
to a sword fight. Cesario panics (remember that he is Viola, who knows nothing of violence and
dueling). Sir Toby continues: Sir Andrew is a "devil in a private brawl," for he has killed three
men already ("souls and bodies hath he divorced three"). Cesario, says Sir Toby, can do only one
thing to defend himself against Sir Andrew: "strip your sword stark naked." Such advice is
alarming. Cesario begs Sir Toby to seek out this knight and find out what offense he has
committed, and so Sir Toby exits, ostensibly to go on his assigned errand, leaving Cesario in the
company of Signior, a title Sir Toby impromptly bestowed on Fabian, all in the spirit of their
practical joking. These two exit then, just as Sir Toby and Sir Andrew enter.
Sir Toby describes in vivid, violent language Cesario's fierceness. Sir Andrew quakes: "I'll not
meddle with him"; he is even willing to give Cesario his horse, "grey Capilet," to avoid the duel.
Fabian and Cesario return, and Sir Toby taunts both Cesario and Sir Andrew into drawing their
swords, all the while assuring them that no real harm will come to either of them.
At this point, a true swordsman enters. It is Antonio, and mistaking young Cesario for Sebastian,
he tells Sir Andrew to put up his sword unless he wants to fight Antonio. Sir Toby draws his
sword and is ready to take on Antonio when a troop of officers enters. Antonio has been
recognized on the streets, and Orsino has sent out his men to arrest him. Dejectedly, Antonio
turns to Cesario (who he believes to be Sebastian). He asks him for his purse back, and when
Cesario naturally denies having ever received it, the sea captain is both saddened and enraged by
this apparent ingratitude. He denounces this youth, "this god," whom he "snatched . . . out of the
jaws of death . . . [and offered the] sanctity of love." "Sebastian," he tells Cesario, "thou . . .
virtue is beauty, but the beauteous-evil / Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil."
As the officers lead Antonio away, Viola is almost ready to believe what may be possible:
Sebastian may be alive! It is possible that this man saved her twin brother, Sebastian, and
Antonio may have just now confused her with Sebastian because of her disguise. Breathlessly,

55. she prays that "imagination [should] prove true / That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you."
Viola exits, and unwilling to miss their fun, Sir Toby and Fabian easily convince old Sir Andrew
that Cesario is a coward, and the three of them set out after Orsino's page.
Act IV: Scene 1
The scene opens on the street in front of Olivia's house. Sebastian and Feste are talking, and we
realize that Feste has mistaken Sebastian for Cesario. Feste insists that his mistress has sent Feste
to him, meaning Cesario. Sebastian is annoyed at the jester's persistence; "Thou art a foolish
fellow," he says, and gives him a generous tip to send him on his way — or else he will give
Feste "worse payment," meaning a kick in the rump if he doesn't leave him in peace.
Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian enter, and Sir Andrew assumes that Sebastian is the
"cowardly" Cesario; Sir Andrew strikes him, whereupon Sebastian promptly beats Sir Andrew,
asking, "Are all the people mad?" Feste says that he is going to report to Olivia all that has
happened, and she will not be pleased to learn that her favorite suitor, the reluctant Cesario, has
quarreled with Olivia's uncle and with Sir Andrew. Sir Toby, meanwhile, decides that it is time
for him to act; he grabs the young upstart (Sebastian) by the hand in an effort to save Sir Andrew
from greater injury.
Olivia arrives, assumes that Sebastian is Cesario, and pleads with him to go into the house. She
severely reprimands Sir Toby and sends him away, out of her sight, and he exits, taking the other
two with him. She apologizes for the "pranks of [these] ruffians," and while she is talking,
Sebastian is speechless. He cannot believe what is happening: he is being wooed in the most
ardent of terms by a beautiful young countess; if this be a dream, he says, "let fancy still my
sense in Lethe . . . let me sleep." Olivia is insistent: "Come, I prithee," she says, and begs him to
marry her. Without hesitation, Sebastian accepts: "Madame, I will," he says, and off they dash to
look for a priest to perform the ceremony.
Act IV: Scene 2
In order to fully appreciate this scene, you should recall that Olivia gave Sir Toby and the
household staff orders to take care of Malvolio and the "midsummer madness" that turned him
into a grinning zany, tightly cross-gartered, and garbed in yellow stockings. They locked him in a
dark room, and now Maria and Feste prepare to pull a few more pranks on the supercilious,
overbearing Malvolio. Feste disguises himself as a parson and plans to make a "mercy call" on
the "poor mad prisoner." He will assume the role of Sir Topas, the curate. The interview is a
masterpiece of low, broad comedy.
Feste, as Sir Topas, knows just enough Latin phrases to lace them into his interview, along with
pedantic nonsense and pseudo-metaphysical drivel concerning the philosophy of existence. The
imprisoned steward, of course, is extremely relieved to hear what he believes to be the parson's
voice, for he fondly imagines that his deliverance from this darkened room of a prison is near.
This is not the case, however; he will "remain in his darkness" for some time to come.
When Feste slips out for a moment, Sir Toby suggests that Feste use his natural voice to speak
with Malvolio; things have taken a turn for the worse, and he wants to release Malvolio and end
this charade. He is afraid that Olivia might turn him out of the house, and he "cannot pursue with
any safety this sport to the upshot."

56. Feste is having too much fun, though, to pay much attention to Toby's fears; he enters Malvolio's
room, assumes his ecclesiastical voice, and tries to convince the steward that there are two
visitors in the room instead of one. Malvolio pleads that he is not insane, and finally Feste is
persuaded to bring Malvolio some ink, a pen, and some writing paper so that he can "set down to
[his] lady" proof of his sanity.
Act IV: Scene 3
Sitting in Olivia's garden, Sebastian is enjoying the bliss of being loved by a beautiful and rich
countess, although he is still thoroughly confused about why all this has happened to him. As he
sits alone, he admires the lovely pearl which Olivia has given to him, and he wonders why
Antonio did not meet him at The Elephant Inn, where they had agreed to meet. All of this seems
truly like a dream; yet, looking at the pearl, he holds tangible proof that this is not a dream at all.
He wishes that Antonio were with him to advise him; he heard that the sea captain did stay at the
inn. Yet where is he now? And he wonders if the beautiful Olivia is mad — and, of course, there
is another possibility: perhaps he himself is mad.
Olivia enters with a priest and tells Sebastian that she wants him to accompany her and the priest
"into the chantry" (a private chapel). There, "before him / And underneath that consecrated roof,"
Sebastian will "plight [Olivia] the fullest assurance of [his] faith." Sebastian agrees to marry
Olivia; the marriage will be kept secret until later, when they will have a splendid, public
ceremony, befitting Olivia's rank. They exit, arm in arm, for the private ceremony, as the fourth
act comes to a close.
Act V: Scene 1
This last act, which consists of only a single scene, takes place on a street in front of Olivia's
house. Feste is reluctantly carrying Malvolio's letter to Olivia (pleading Malvolio's sanity), but
Fabian is trying to discourage him from reading it. Feste, needless to say, is in no great hurry to
deliver it.
Duke Orsino, Cesario (Viola), Curio, and others enter, and Orsino has a few words with Feste; he
is pleased with Feste's quick wit and gives him a gold coin and tells him to announce to Olivia
that he is here to speak with her and, furthermore, to "bring her along"; if he does, there may be
more gold coins for Feste.
Cesario (Viola) sees Antonio approaching with several officers and tells Orsino that this is the
man who rescued him from Sir Andrew earlier. (Antonio, of course, is still under arrest). Orsino
remembers Antonio well; when he last saw Antonio, the sea captain's face was "besmeared / As
black as Vulcan in the smoke of war." Antonio was the captain of a pirate ship then and did great
damage to Orsino's fleet. Yet despite their past differences, Orsino remembers Antonio as being
a brave and honorable opponent.
When he is asked to explain how he happened to be in Illyria, Antonio explains to Orsino that he
is the victim of "witchcraft" — that is, he saved Cesario's life, and then this "most ingrateful boy"
would not return the purse of money which he lent him earlier.
At this instant, Olivia makes a grand entrance with her attendants. When Orsino sees Olivia
entering, he says that "heaven walks on earth." He tells himself that "this youth" (Cesario) "hash
tended" him for three months; Antonio's words, of course, are impossible.

57. Olivia's ire is rankled. She asks Orsino what he wants — other than what he can't have — and
she accuses Cesario of breaking an appointment with her. Frustrated to the point of madness
himself, Orsino turns on Cesario: it is all his fault that Olivia has rejected him, and he will have
his revenge. He knows that Olivia loves Cesario, and he is ready to "tear out [Cesario from
Olivia's] cruel eye" for bestowing all her loving glances at Cesario. He orders Cesario to come
with him for his "thoughts are ripe in mischief." Even though he values Cesario very much, yet
he will "sacrifice the lamb . . . to spite a raven's heart." Olivia is appalled: where is the haughty
Orsino taking her new husband? Cesario replies that he goes with Orsino willingly; he would, for
Orsino, "a thousand deaths die." He says that he loves Orsino "more than I love these eyes, more
than my life . . . [and] all the more, than e'er I shall love wife."
Olivia is thunderstruck: "Me, detested! how am I beguiled!" She calls for the priest who married
her to Cesario (in fact, to Sebastian), and the priest enters and attests to the fact that a marriage
did indeed take place between these two young people.
Now it is Orsino who is furious. This "proxy," this young messenger whom he hired to carry
letters of love to Olivia, hoodwinked him and married Olivia himself. He turns to this
"dissembling cub" and tells him to "take her; but direct thy feet / Where thou and I henceforth
may never meet." Cesario (Viola) attempts to protest, but Olivia hushes him: "Oh, do not fear . . .
thou hast too much fear."
Suddenly, Sir Andrew enters, crying loudly for a surgeon; Sir Toby also needs one. They say that
they have been wounded by Cesario (Sebastian), and Sir Andrew's head is broken and Sir Toby
has a "bloody coxcomb." They point their finger to Cesario (Viola): "Here he is!" Cesario
(Viola) protests once more. He has hurt no one; yet it is true that Sir Andrew drew his sword and
challenged him once to a duel, but certainly Cesario (Viola) never harmed Sir Andrew.
It seems that the surgeon is drunk and cannot come, and although Olivia tries to find out who is
responsible for this bloody business, she cannot, for confusion reigns as Sir Toby and Sir
Andrew help one another off to bed.
The key to the solution of all of this confusion now enters: it isSebastian. He apologizes to Olivia
for having injured Sir Toby. Orsino is the first to express astonishment at the identical
appearance of Sebastian and Cesario. It is almost impossible to distinguish between them, except
by the colors of their clothes. Sebastian then reminds Olivia of the words which they exchanged
only a short time ago, and he calls her his "sweet one." He joyfully recognizes Antonio and
confesses how "the hours [have] racked and tortured" him since he lost him. Like Orsino,
Antonio is amazed. He compares Cesario and Sebastian to "an apple, cleft in two." Viola
(Cesario) begins to speak then; she tells Sebastian that he is very much like a twin brother who
she fears perished in a "watery tomb." Her father was Sebastian; he had a mole on one brow —
and at this point, Sebastian interrupts her: so did his father. Moreover, both agree that this man
died when they were thirteen years old.
Viola then reveals that her real identity is hidden by "masculine usurp'd attire"; she is Sebastian's
lost twin sister, and she can prove it by taking them to the home of a sea captain who knows of
her disguise and is keeping her women's clothes for her; however, they must produce Malvolio
because he has been holding the sea captain imprisoned.
Sebastian turns to Olivia and tells her that she has been "mistook." Had she married Cesario
(Viola), she would "have been contracted to a maid." But he gives her good news also. As her
husband, he is a bit of a "maid" himself — that is, he is a virgin ("both maid and man"). Olivia

58. calls immediately for Malvolio; she wants to hear why he has had this sea captain imprisoned,
and she asks that he be specifically brought before her, even though "they say, poor gentleman,
he's much distract."
At this point, Feste enters with Malvolio's letter, written as proof of his sanity. Olivia tells him to
read it aloud, and he does, in an affected voice that makes everyone laugh. Olivia then gives the
letter to Fabian to read. She is not truly convinced that Malvolio is all that mad. When he enters,
he brings Maria's "love note" with him. Olivia instantly recognizes the handwriting as being
Maria's. Thus she begins to reconstruct the intricacies of the practical joke that her servants have
played on Malvolio. She declares that Malvolio shall be both plaintiff and judge of his own case
against the pranksters.
Recounting all of the secret plottings which have taken place, Fabian confesses his and Sir
Toby's roles in their attempt to take revenge on Malvolio. He also confesses that it was Sir Toby
who persuaded Maria to write the forged love note, and that, "in recompense," he has married
her. Olivia expresses pity for Malvolio; he has been "most notoriously abused," and then in lines
of stately blank verse, Count Orsino ends the play by turning to Viola and telling her that while
she seemed very dear to him once as a man, she is now his "mistress and fancy queen." Everyone
exits, and Feste is left onstage.
He sings one last song, one of the most philosophical jester's songs in all of Shakespeare's plays.
It tells of the development of men, focusing on the various stages of their lives, and putting all of
the serious matters of the life of men into the dramatic context of this comedy — whose purpose
is, after all, only to "please."
Characters
Orsino The Duke of Illyria and its ruler. At the opening of the comedy, he is desperately in love
with Lady Olivia, who spurns his romantic overtures in spite of the fact that he is a perfect and
ideal gentleman.
Viola/Cesario After being shipwrecked, she disguises herself as a young boy, takes the name of
Cesario, and attains a position in Duke Orsino's household because of her wit and charm. As a
boy, she is then used as an emissary from the duke to court Lady Olivia. Her twin brother,
Sebastian, looks exactly like her.
Lady Olivia She is a rich countess who, at first, plans to mourn her brother's recent death for
seven years, but when she meets the emissary from Duke Orsino (Viola disguised as a boy), she
immediately falls in love with the youth.
Sebastian The twin brother to Viola who is mistaken for Cesario when he (Sebastian) arrives in
town. He meets Olivia and enters immediately into a marriage with her.
Antonio A sea captain who aids and protects Sebastian; his pleas for help are ignored by Viola,
who in her disguise looks exactly like her twin brother.
Sir Toby Belch Lady Olivia's uncle who lives with her and who is given to constant drinking
bouts; he delights in playing tricks on others.
Sir Andrew Aguecheek A skinny knight who is encouraged by Sir Toby to continue courting
Lady Olivia because as long as he courts Lady Olivia, Sir Toby can gull him out of enough
money to continue the nightly drinking bouts.

59. Malvolio Lady Olivia's steward who also has fantasies that Lady Olivia might someday marry
him. He is opposed to Sir Toby's drinking bouts, and, thus, he becomes the object of one of Sir
Toby's elaborate tricks.
Maria Lady Olivia's waiting woman; she is clever and arranges a superlative trick to be played
on Malvolio.
Feste A clown, or "jester," in the employ of Lady Olivia; he has a marvelous way with words
and with making a sentence "get up and walk away."
Fabian Another servant of some importance in Lady Olivia's house.
Valentine and Curio Two gentlemen who attend Duke Orsino.
A Sea Captain He appears in only one scene. He helps Viola with her disguise.











The Tempest
GENRE · Romance
TIME AND PLACE WRITTEN · 1610–1611; England
DATE OF FIRST PUBLICATION · 1623
PUBLISHER · Isaac Jaggard and Edward Blount
TONE · Dreamy, mysterious, magical
SETTING (TIME) · The Renaissance
SETTING (PLACE) · An island in the Mediterranean sea, probably off the coast of Italy
PROTAGONIST · Prospero
MAJOR CONFLICT · Prospero, the duke of Milan and a powerful magician, was banished from
Italy and cast to sea by his usurping brother, Antonio, and Alonso, the king of Naples. As the
play begins, Antonio and Alonso come under Prospero’s magic power as they sail past his island.
Prospero seeks to use his magic to make these lords repent and restore him to his rightful place.
RISING ACTION · Prospero creates the tempest, causing his enemies’ ship to wreck and its
passengers to be dispersed about the island.

60. CLIMAX · Alonso and his party stop to rest, and Prospero causes a banquet to be set out before
them. Just as they are about to eat, Ariel appears in the shape of a harpy and accuses them of
their treachery against Prospero. Alonso is overwhelmed with remorse.
FALLING ACTION · Prospero brings Alonso and the others before him and forgives them.
Prospero invites Alonso and his company to stay the night before everyone returns to Italy the
next day, where Prospero will reassume his dukedom.
THEMES · The illusion of justice, the difficulty of distinguishing “men” from “monsters,” the
allure of ruling a colony
MOTIFS · Masters and servants, water and drowning, mysterious noises
SYMBOLS · The tempest, the game of chess, Prospero’s books
FORESHADOWING · Prospero frequently hints at his plans to bring his enemies before him
and to confront them for their treachery. Prospero also hints at his plans to relinquish his magic
once he has confronted and forgiven his enemies.

• A play by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written in 1610–11, and thought
by many critics to be the last play that Shakespeare wrote alone.
• It is set on a remote island, where Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan, plots to restore
his daughter Miranda to her rightful place using illusion and skilful manipulation.
• He conjures up a storm, the eponymous tempest, to lure his usurping brother Antonio and
the complicit King Alonso of Naples to the island. There, his machinations bring about
the revelation of Antonio's lowly nature, the redemption of the King, and the marriage of
Miranda to Alonso's son, Ferdinand.
• There is no obvious single source for the plot of The Tempest, but researchers have seen
parallels in Erasmus's Naufragium, Peter Martyr's De orbe novo, and eyewitness reports
by William Strachey and Sylvester Jordain of the real-life shipwreck of the Sea
Venture on the islands of Bermuda, and the subsequent conflict between Sir Thomas
Gates and Sir George Somers.
• In addition, one of Gonzalo's speeches is derived from Montaigne's essay Of the
Canibales, and much of Prospero's renunciative speech is taken word for word from a
speech by Medea in Ovid's poem Metamorphoses.
• The masque in Act 4 may have been a later addition, possibly in honour of the wedding
of Princess Elizabeth and Frederick V in 1613.
• The play was first published in the First Folio of 1623.
• The story draws heavily on the tradition of the romance, and it was influenced
by tragicomedy, the courtly masqueand perhaps the commedia dell'arte.
• It differs from Shakespeare's other plays in its observation of a stricter, more
organised neoclassical style.
• Critics see The Tempest as explicitly concerned with its own nature as a play, frequently
drawing links between Prospero's "art" and theatrical illusion, and early critics saw
Prospero as a representation of Shakespeare, and his renunciation of magic as signalling
Shakespeare's farewell to the stage.

61. • The play portrays Prospero as a rational, and not an occultist, magician by providing a
contrast to him in Sycorax: her magic is frequently described as destructive and terrible,
where Prospero's is said to be wondrous and beautiful.
• Beginning in about 1950, with the publication of Psychology of Colonization by Octave
Mannoni, The Tempest was viewed more and more through the lens
of postcolonial theory—exemplified in adaptations like Aimé Césaire's Une Tempête set
in Haiti—and there is even a scholarly journal on post-colonial criticism named
after Caliban.
• The Tempest did not attract a significant amount of attention before the ban on the
performance of plays in 1642, and only attained popularity after the Restoration, and then
only in adapted versions.
• In the mid-19th century, theatre productions began to reinstate the original Shakespearean
text, and in the 20th century, critics and scholars undertook a significant re-appraisal of
the play's value, to the extent that it is now considered to be one of Shakespeare's greatest
works.
• It has been adapted numerous times in a variety of styles and formats: in literature, Percy
Bysshe Shelley's poem With a Guitar, To Jane and W. H. Auden's The Sea and the
Mirror; novels by Aimé Césaire and The Diviners by Margaret Laurence.
Act I: Scene 1
The Tempest opens in the midst of a fierce storm. The location is a ship at sea, with a royal party
on board. As the sailors fight to save the ship, several of the royal passengers enter, and Alonso,
the king, demands to know where the master (captain) is to be found. The boatswain, worried
that the passengers will interfere, orders them to go below deck. The king's councilor, Gonzalo,
reminds the boatswain that he is speaking to the king, but the boatswain points out that if the
king really has so much power, he should use it to quell the storm. If he lacks this power, the
royal party should go below decks, as the boatswain orders. The royal party exits, presumably to
go below deck to seek shelter.
Within moments, however, Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo have returned topside again, much
to the boatswain's annoyance. With Sebastian and Antonio cursing him, the boatswain continues
in his efforts to save the ship. Soon, however, the sailors enter with laments that the ship is lost.
Fearing that they will all soon die, Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo elect to join the rest of the
royal party below decks, where they will pray for their survival.
Act I: Scene 2
Scene 2 opens on the island, with Prospero and Miranda watching the ship as it is tossed by the
storm. Miranda knows that her father is creating the storm, and she begs him to end the ship's
torment and her own, since she suffers as she watches the ship's inhabitants suffer. Prospero
reassures his daughter that his actions have been to protect her. He also tells Miranda that she is
ignorant of her heritage; he then explains the story of her birthright and of their lives before they
came to be on the island.
Prospero begins his story with the news that he is the duke of Milan and Miranda is a princess.
He also relates that he had abdicated day-to-day rule of his kingdom to his brother, Antonio.
Prospero admits that books held more attraction than duties, and he willingly allowed his brother
the opportunity to grasp control. But Antonio used his position to undermine Prospero and to plot

62. against him. Prospero's trust in his brother proved unwise, when Antonio formed an alliance with
the king of Naples to oust Prospero and seize his heritage. Prospero and his daughter were placed
in a small, rickety boat and put out to sea. A sympathetic Neapolitan, Gonzalo, provided them
with rich garments, linens, and other necessities. Gonzalo also provided Prospero with books
from his library. Eventually, Prospero and Miranda arrived on the island, where they have
remained since that time.
When he finishes the tale, Prospero uses his magic to put Miranda to sleep. The sprite, Ariel,
appears as soon as Miranda is sleeping and reports on the storm, the ship, and the passengers.
Ariel relates everyone, except the crew, was forced to abandon ship. Ariel tells Prospero that the
passengers have been separated into smaller groups and are on different parts of the island; that
the ship, with its sleeping crew, is safely hidden in the harbor; and that the remainder of the fleet,
thinking that the king is drowned, has sailed home. Ariel then asks that Prospero free him, as had
been promised. But Prospero has more need of his sprite and declares that Ariel's freedom must
be delayed a few more days.
When Ariel leaves, Prospero awakens Miranda and beckons Caliban, the son of the witch,
Sycorax. Caliban has been Prospero's slave, but he is insolent and rebellious and is only
controlled through the use of magic. Caliban claims the island as his own and says that Prospero
has tricked him in the past. Prospero is unmoved, claiming that Caliban is corrupt, having tried to
rape Miranda. Prospero threatens and cajoles Caliban's obedience, but Caliban's presence makes
Miranda uneasy.
After Caliban leaves, Ariel enters with Ferdinand, who sees Miranda, and the two fall instantly in
love. Although this is what Prospero intended to have happen, he does not want it to appear too
easy for Ferdinand, and so he accuses Ferdinand of being a spy. When Prospero uses magic to
control Ferdinand, Miranda begs him to stop.
Act II: Scene 1
This scene opens with all the passengers from the ship, except for Ferdinand, gathered on stage.
Gonzalo begins with a speech celebrating their survival of the storm and their relative safety on
the island, but King Alonso cannot be cheered because he is sure that his missing son, Ferdinand,
has drowned. In the meantime, Antonio and Sebastian whisper among themselves and belittle
both Alonso's grief and Gonzalo's cheer.
When Antonio and Sebastian join the general conversation around the king, they make no
attempt to soothe him. Instead, they tell Alonso that he should not have permitted his daughter to
marry the African. Sebastian tells Alonso that, had he not permitted the marriage, the royal party
would not have been at sea and, thus, never in the storm. In short, Ferdinand would still be alive
if Alonso had acted properly. These are harsh words to the grieving father, and Gonzalo gently
chastises Sebastian for his insensitivity.
Ariel now enters, unseen by the group on stage, and puts all of them to sleep, except for
Sebastian and Antonio. Left awake, Antonio and Sebastian devise a plot in which Sebastian will
seize his brother's crown, much as Antonio had years earlier seized his brother's title and
property. Although Sebastian has some concerns of conscience, Antonio dismisses such worries
and urges action while everyone is asleep. Sebastian needs little convincing, and with Antonio,
the two draw their swords and advance on the sleeping king and his party.
At this moment, Ariel takes action. He awakens Gonzalo in time to prevent the murders. Antonio
and Sebastian quickly concoct a story to explain their drawn swords, warning of great noise, as if

63. from bulls or lions. Alonso is easily convinced of his brother's sincerity, and the scene ends with
the royal party leaving the stage in search of Ferdinand.


Act II: Scene 2
The scene opens with Caliban cursing Prospero. When he hears someone approach, Caliban
assumes it is one of Prospero's spirits, coming to torture him once again. Caliban falls to the
ground and pulls his cloak over his body, leaving only his feet protruding. But instead of
Prospero, the king's jester, Trinculo, enters. Trinculo is looking for shelter from the coming
storm when he sees Caliban. With his body partially covered with the cloak, Caliban appears to
be half man and half fish, or at least that is Trinculo's initial impression. Trinculo immediately
sees the possibilities that this find presents. He can take this "monster" back to civilization and
display it, charging admission to spectators who want to view this aberration of nature. Yet after
touching Caliban, Trinculo decides that his "find" is not half man-half fish, but an islander. With
the coming storm, Trinculo decides to seek shelter under Caliban's cloak.
The king's butler, Stefano, enters, clearly drunk. Stefano stops at the sight of the object on the
ground, covered with a cloak and with four legs sticking out. Like Trinculo, Stefano immediately
sees the financial possibilities that such a creature offers back home. But all of Stefano's poking
has alarmed Caliban, who thinks that he is about to experience a new form of torture, beyond
what Prospero has provided.
After pulling the cloak from Caliban's head, Stefano begins to pour wine into Caliban's mouth.
Trinculo emerges from under the cloak and, happy to find another survivor of the storm on the
island, joins Stefano and Caliban in drinking wine.
Caliban drunkenly watches the happy reunion of Stefano and Trinculo and decides that Stefano
is a god, dropped from heaven. Caliban swears devotion to this new "god," and the three leave
together, amid Caliban's promises to find Stefano the best food on the island.
Act III: Scene 1
Ferdinand enters carrying a log, which he claims would be an odious task except that he carries it
to serve Miranda. His carrying of the logs is a punishment but one he willingly accepts because
thoughts of Miranda make the work seem effortless.
Miranda enters and, when Ferdinand will not rest, offers to take up his chore so that she might
force him to rest, but Ferdinand refuses. Although she was instructed not to reveal her name,
Miranda impulsively divulges it to Ferdinand. Ferdinand, for his part, has known other beautiful
women, but he admits to having never known one as perfect as Miranda. Miranda confesses that
she has known no other women, nor any other man, except for her father. Now, she would want
no other man except for Ferdinand. At this, Miranda remembers that she has been instructed not
to speak to their guest and momentarily falls silent. When Ferdinand avows that he would gladly
serve her, Miranda asks if he loves her. At his affirmative reply, Miranda begins to weep. She
tells Ferdinand that she is unworthy of him but will marry him if he wants her. He quickly
agrees, and the couple finally touch, taking each other's hands, as they pledge their love.

64. Prospero has been listening, unseen. He acknowledges Miranda and Ferdinand's natural match as
being "Of two most rare affections" (75), but he has other plans that need his immediate
attention, and so he turns to his books and other waiting business.
Act III: Scene 2
This scene returns to Stefano, Trinculo, and Caliban — all of whom are now very drunk. Caliban
has a plan to kill Prospero and elicits help from his new friends. As Caliban explains that he is
the rightful owner of the island, Ariel arrives and listens attentively. Caliban explains that they
must burn Prospero's books, and after Prospero is dead, Stefano can marry Miranda, which will
make her his queen of the island. Trinculo agrees to the plot.
Ariel resolves to tell Prospero of the plot against him. When the drunken men begin singing,
Ariel accompanies them on a tabor and pipe. The men hear the music and are afraid, but Caliban
reassures them that such sounds are frequently heard on the island. Stefano finds the idea of free
music a strong promise of his success on the island, and three drunken conspirators follow the
sounds of the music offstage.
Act III: Scene 3
The royal party has searched futilely for Ferdinand and collapses, exhausted upon the beach.
Unknown to the royal party, Prospero arrives and watches their actions. Within a few moments, a
number of ghostly shapes arrive and with them, a lavish banquet. After gesturing to the party that
they should approach and eat, the spirit shapes depart. The royal party is incredulous, but they
are also hungry and ready to eat. Yet Ariel appears, disguised as a harpy. He makes the banquet
disappear and accuses Antonio, Sebastian, and Alonso of being the instruments of sin. Although
the men draw their swords, they are frozen in place by magic and unable to lift up their arms.
The king is shaken by what he has seen and heard, and he flees, as do Antonio and Sebastian.
Worried that they might do themselves harm, Gonzalo sends Adrian and Francisco to watch
them.
Act IV: Scene 1
Prospero, acknowledging that he has been harsh, now promises a reward that will rectify the
young lovers' momentary suffering. Recognizing Ferdinand and Miranda's love for one another
— they have passed the trials that Prospero has set before them — he offers Miranda to
Ferdinand as his wife. Prospero next calls Ariel to help stage a celebration of the betrothal. The
celebration includes a masque, presented by the spirits of the island.
Suddenly Prospero remembers the three conspirators who have set out to murder him and calls a
halt to the masque. He then summons Ariel, who reports that he led the three men, all of whom
are very drunk, through a briar patch and into a filthy pond, where he left them wallowing.
Prospero instructs Ariel to leave garish clothing on a tree to tempt the men.
Soon Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo appear, foul smelling and wet. Stefano and Trinculo lament
the loss of their bottles but are much cheered when they see the clothing hanging nearby. The
two ignore Caliban's pleas to continue on their mission and his warnings that their hesitation will
lead Prospero to catch them. At that moment, Prospero and Ariel enter with spirits, disguised as
hunters and hounds. The three conspirators flee, with the spirits in pursuit. Prospero,
acknowledging the power he now holds over all his enemies, promises Ariel that he shall soon be
free.
Act V: Scene 1

65. This scene opens with Ariel revealing to Prospero that Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio are
remorseful, worried, and desperate. Gonzalo is worried and grief-stricken at his king's pain.
Prospero reassures Ariel that he will be compassionate in dealing with his enemies and asks that
Ariel bring the group to him. While he is waiting for the king and his party to appear, Prospero
soliloquizes about what he has accomplished with magic and, at the soliloquy's end, promises
that he will now give up his magic, bury his magic staff, and drown his magic book at sea.
Almost immediately, Ariel enters with the royal party, who appear to be in a trance, and places
them within the magic circle that Prospero had earlier drawn. With a few chanted words, the
spell is removed. Prospero, clothed in the garments of the duke of Milan — his rightful position
— appears before them. In a gesture of reconciliation, Prospero embraces Alonso, who is filled
with remorse and immediately gives up Prospero's dukedom. Gonzalo is also embraced in turn,
and then Prospero turns to Sebastian and Antonio. Prospero tells them that he will not charge
them as traitors, at this time. Antonio is forgiven and required to renounce his claims on
Prospero's dukedom.
While Alonso continues to mourn the loss of his son, Prospero relates that he too has lost his
child, his daughter. But he means that he has lost her in marriage and pulls back a curtain to
reveal Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess. Ferdinand explains to his father that he is betrothed
to Miranda and that this event occurred while he thought his father dead. Alonso quickly
welcomes Miranda and says he will be a second father to his son's affianced. At the sight of the
couple, Gonzalo begins to cry and thanks God for having worked such a miracle.
Ariel enters with the master of the boat and boatswain. Although the ship lay in harbor and in
perfect shape, the puzzled men cannot explain how any of this has occurred. Alonso is also
mystified, but Prospero tells him not to trouble his mind with such concerns. Next, Ariel leads in
Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo, who are still drunk. Prospero explains that these men have
robbed him and plotted to murder him. Caliban immediately repents and promises to seek grace.
The three conspirators, who have sobered somewhat since confronted with Prospero and the
king, are sent to decorate Prospero's cell. Prospero invites his guests to spend the night with him,
where he will tell them of his adventures and of his life during these past 12 years. Ariel's last
duty to Prospero is to provide calm seas when they sail the next morning.

Act V: Epilogue
Prospero, who is now alone on stage, requests that the audience free him. He states that he has
thrown away his magic and pardoned those who have injured him. Now he requires that the
audience release him from the island, which has been his prison so that he might return to
Naples. The audience's applause will be the signal that he is freed. Prospero indicates that his
forgiveness of his former enemies is what all men crave. With the audience's applause, Prospero
leaves the stage.
Characters
Prospero The rightful duke of Milan. After his brother, Antonio, seized his title and property,
Prospero was exiled with his daughter and eventually found refuge on an island.
Miranda Prospero's daughter. She has been on the island with her father for 12 years — since
she was 3 years old.

66. Antonio Prospero's younger brother, who is now the duke of Milan. He had plotted against
Prospero years earlier and now convinces Sebastian to murder his brother, the king of Naples.
Ariel A spirit of the air, he assists Prospero in seeking retribution over his enemies.
Caliban The offspring of the witch Sycorax and the devil. Prospero has made Caliban his
servant or slave, and in response, Caliban plots to murder Prospero.
Ferdinand The son of the king of Naples. During the storm, he was separated from the rest of
the king's party, met Miranda, and fell in love with her.
Alonso The king of Naples. He believes his son has died and is overjoyed to later find him.
Alonso is repentant for the pain he caused Prospero in the past.
Sebastian Alonso's brother. He is easily led into planning his own brother's (the king's) murder.
Gonzalo An elderly counselor who saves Prospero's and Miranda's lives when they are exiled.
He provides a sense of hope and optimism when Ferdinand is lost.
Stefano The king's butler. He arrives on the island drunk and quickly becomes involved in a plot
to murder Prospero.
Trinculo The king's jester. When Stefano arrives with wine, Trinculo joins him in drinking and
then agrees to a plot to murder Prospero.
Francisco and Adrian Two of the king's lords. They try to offer hope and protection to Alonso.
Boatswain The ship's petty officer. He is in charge of the deck crew, the rigging, and the anchor.
He must try to keep the boat afloat during the storm, even when the king's party makes demands
upon his time.
Criticism and interpretation
Genre
The story draws heavily on the tradition of the romance, a fictitious narrative set far away from
ordinary life. Romances were typically based around themes such as the supernatural,
wandering, exploration and discovery. They were often set in coastal regions, and typically
featured exotic, fantastical locations and themes of transgression and redemption, loss and
retrieval, exile and reunion. As a result, while The Tempest was originally listed as a comedy in
the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, subsequent editors have chosen to give it the more specific
label of Shakespearean romance. Like the other romances, the play was influenced by the then-
new genre of tragicomedy, introduced byJohn Fletcher in the first decade of the 17th century and
developed in the Beaumont and Fletcher collaborations, as well as by the explosion of
development of the courtlymasque form by such as Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones at the same
time.
[23]

Dramatic structure
The Tempest differs from Shakespeare's other plays in its observation of a stricter, more
organised neoclassical style. The clearest indication of this is Shakespeare's respect for the three

67. unities in the play: the Unities of Time, Place, and Action.
[24]
Shakespeare's other plays rarely
respected the three unities, taking place in separate locations miles apart and over several days or
even years.
[25]
The play's events unfold in real time before the audience, Prospero even declaring
in the last act that everything has happened in, more or less, three hours.
[26 HYPERLINK
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"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tempest" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tempest"[27]
All action is unified
into one basic plot: Prospero's struggle to regain his dukedom; it is also confined to one place, a
fictional island, which many scholars agree is meant to be located in the Mediterranean
Sea.
[28]
Another reading suggests that it takes place in the New World, as some parts read like
records of English and Spanish conquest in the Americas.
[29]
Still others argue that the Island can
represent any land that has been colonised.
[30]

Postcolonial
In Shakespeare's day, much of the world was still being discovered by European seafarers, and
stories were coming back from distant islands, with myths about the Cannibals of the Caribbean,
faraway Edens, and distant tropical Utopias. With the character Caliban (whose name is almost
an anagram of Cannibal and also resembles "Cariban", the term then used for natives in the West
Indies), Shakespeare may be offering an in-depth discussion into the morality of colonialism.
Different views of this are found in the play, with examples including Gonzalo's
Utopia, Prospero's enslavement of Caliban, and Caliban's subsequent resentment. Caliban is also
shown as one of the most natural characters in the play, being very much in touch with the
natural world (and modern audiences have come to view him as far nobler than his two Old
World friends, Stephano and Trinculo, although the original intent of the author may have been
different). There is evidence that Shakespeare drew on Montaigne's essay Of Cannibals—which
discusses the values of societies insulated from European influences—while writing The
Tempest.
[31]

Beginning in about 1950, with the publication of Psychology of Colonization by Octave
Mannoni, The Tempest was viewed more and more through the lens of postcolonial theory. This
new way of looking at the text explored the effect of the coloniser (Prospero) on the colonised
(Ariel and Caliban). Though Ariel is often overlooked in these debates in favour of the more
intriguing Caliban, he is nonetheless an essential component of them.
[32]
The French writer Aimé
Césaire, in his play Une Tempête sets The Tempest in Haiti, portraying Ariel as amulatto who,
unlike the more rebellious Caliban, feels that negotiation and partnership is the way to freedom

68. from the colonisers. Fernandez Retamar sets his version of the play in Cuba, and portrays Ariel
as a wealthy Cuban (in comparison to the lower-class Caliban) who also must choose between
rebellion or negotiation.
[33] HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tempest" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tempest" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tempest"[34]
Although scholars
have suggested that his dialogue with Caliban in Act two, Scene one, contains hints of a future
alliance between the two when Prospero leaves, Ariel is generally viewed by scholars as the
good servant, in comparison with the conniving Caliban—a view which Shakespeare's audience
may well have shared.
[35]
Ariel is used by some postcolonial writers as a symbol of their efforts
to overcome the effects of colonisation on their culture. For example, Michelle Cliff, a Jamaican
author, has said that she tries to combine Caliban and Ariel within herself to create a way of
writing that represents her culture better. Such use of Ariel in postcolonial thought is far from
uncommon; the spirit is even the namesake of a scholarly journal covering post-colonial
criticism.
Feminist
The Tempest has only one female character, Miranda. Other women, such as Caliban's
mother Sycorax, Miranda's mother and Alonso's daughter Claribel, are only mentioned. Because
of the small role women play in the story in comparison to other Shakespeare plays, The
Tempest has attracted much feminist criticism. Miranda is typically viewed as being completely
deprived of freedom by her father. Her only duty in his eyes is to remain chaste. Ann Thompson
argues that Miranda, in a manner typical of women in a colonial atmosphere, has completely
internalised the patriarchal order of things, thinking of herself as subordinate to her father.
The less-prominent women mentioned in the play are subordinated as well, as they are only
described through the men of the play. Most of what is said about Sycorax, for example, is said
by Prospero. Further, Stephen Orgel notes that Prospero has never met Sycorax – all he learned
about her he learned from Ariel. According to Orgel, Prospero's suspicion of women makes him
an unreliable source of information. Orgel suggests that he is sceptical of female virtue in
general, citing his ambiguous remark about his wife's fidelity.
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However, certain goddesses such as Juno, Ceres, Iris, and sea
nymphs are in one scene of the play.
Adaptations
In 1667 Davenant and John Dryden made heavy cuts and adapted it as The Tempest or, The
Enchanted Island. They tried to appeal to upper-class audiences by emphasising royalist political

69. and social ideals: monarchy is the natural form of government; patriarchal authority decisive in
education and marriage; and patrilineality preeminent in inheritance and ownership of
property.
[41]
They also added characters and plotlines: Miranda has a sister, named Dorinda; and
Caliban a sister, also named Sycorax. As a parallel to Shakespeare's Miranda/Ferdinand plot,
Prospero has a foster-son, Hippolito, who has never set eyes on a woman.
[43]
Hippolito was a
popular breeches role, a man played by a woman, popular with Restoration theatre management
for the opportunity to reveal actresses' legs.
[44]
Scholar Michael Dobson has described Enchanted
Island as "the most frequently revived play of the entire Restoration" and as establishing the
importance of enhanced and additional roles for women.
In 1674, Thomas Shadwell re-adapted Dryden and Davenant's Enchanted Island as an opera
(although in Restoration theatre "opera" did not have its modern meaning, instead referring to a
play with added songs, closer in style to a modern musical comedy).
[46]
Restoration playgoers
appear to have regarded the Dryden/Davenant/Shadwell version as Shakespeare's: Samuel Pepys,
for example, described it as "an old play of Shakespeares"
[41]
in his diary. The opera was
extremely popular, and "full of so good variety, that I cannot be more pleased almost in a
comedy"
[41]
according to Pepys.
[47]
The Prospero in this version is very different from
Shakespeare's: Eckhard Auberlen describes him as "... reduced to the status of a Polonius-like
overbusy father, intent on protecting the chastity of his two sexually naive daughters while
planning advantageous dynastic marriages for them."
[48]
Enchanted Island was successful
enough to provoke a parody, The Mock Tempest, written by Thomas Duffett for the King's
Company in 1675. It opened with what appeared to be a tempest, but turns out to be a riot in a
brothel.




The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
GENRE · Tragic drama, historical drama
TIME AND PLACE WRITTEN · 1599, in London
DATE OF FIRST PUBLICATION · Published in the First Folio of 1623, probably from the
theater company’s official promptbook rather than from Shakespeare’s manuscript
PUBLISHER · Edward Blount and William Jaggard headed the group of five men who
undertook the publication of Shakespeare’s First Folio
CLIMAX · Cassius’s death (V.iii), upon ordering his servant, Pindarus, to stab him, marks the
point at which it becomes clear that the murdered Caesar has been avenged, and that Cassius,
Brutus, and the other conspirators have lost in their attempt to keep Rome a republic rather than
an empire. Ironically, the conspirators’ defeat is not yet as certain as Cassius believes, but his
death helps bring about defeat for his side.
PROTAGONISTS · Brutus and Cassius
ANTAGONISTS · Antony and Octavius
SETTING (TIME) · 44 B.C.

70. SETTING (PLACE) · Ancient Rome, toward the end of the Roman republic
POINT OF VIEW · The play sustains no single point of view; however, the audience acquires
the most insight into Brutus’s mind over the course of the action
FALLING ACTION · Titinius’s realization that Cassius has died wrongly assuming defeat;
Titinius’s suicide; Brutus’s discovery of the two corpses; the final struggle between Brutus’s
men and the troops of Antony and Octavius; Brutus’s self-impalement on his sword upon
recognizing that his side is doomed; the discovery of Brutus’s body by Antony and Octavius
FORESHADOWING · The play is full of omens, including lightning and thunder, the walking
dead, and lions stalking through the city (I.iii). Additionally, the Soothsayer warns Caesar to
beware the Ides of March (I.ii); Calpurnia dreams that she sees Caesar’s statue running with
blood (II.ii); and Caesar’s priests sacrifice animals to the gods only to find that the animals lack
hearts (II.ii)—all foreshadow Caesar’s impending murder and the resulting chaos in Rome.
Caesar’s ghost visits Brutus prior to the battle (IV.ii), and birds of prey circle over the battlefield
in sight of Cassius (V.i); both incidents foreshadow Caesar’s revenge and the victory of Antony
and Octavius.
TONE · Serious, proud, virtuous, enraged, vengeful, idealistic, anguished
THEMES · Fate versus free will; public self versus private self; misinterpretation and
misreading of signs and events; commitment to ideals versus adaptability and compromise; the
relationship between rhetoric and power; allegiance and rivalry among men
MOTIFS · Omens and portents, letters
SYMBOLS · The women in the play, Portia and Calpurnia, symbolize the neglected private
lives of their respective husbands, Brutus and Caesar. The men dismiss their wives as hindrances
to their public duty, ignoring their responsibilities to their own mortal bodies and their private
obligations as friends, husbands, and feeling men.
• It is one of several plays written by Shakespeare based on true events from Roman history,
which also include Coriolanus and Antony and Cleopatra.
• Although the title is Julius Caesar, Julius Caesar is not the most visible character in its action;
he appears alive in only three scenes.
• Marcus Brutus speaks more than four times as many lines and the central psychological
drama is his struggle between the conflicting demands of honor, patriotism and friendship.
Sources
• The main source of the play is Thomas North's translation of Plutarch's Lives.
Deviations from Plutarch
• Shakespeare makes Caesar's triumph take place on the day of Lupercalia (15 February)
instead of six months earlier.
• For dramatic effect, he makes the Capitol the venue of Caesar's death rather than
the Curia Pompeia (Curia of Pompey).
• Caesar's murder, the funeral, Antony's oration, the reading of the will and the arrival of
Octavius all take place on the same day in the play. However, historically, the
assassination took place on 15 March (The Ides of March), the will was published on 18
March, the funeral was on 20 March, and Octavius arrived only in May.

71. • Shakespeare makes the Triumvirs meet in Rome instead of near Bononia to avoid an
additional locale.
• He combines the two Battles of Philippi although there was a 20-day interval between
them.
• Shakespeare gives Caesar's last words as "Et tu, Brute? ("And you,
Brutus?"). Plutarch and Suetonius each report that he said nothing, with Plutarch adding
that he pulled his toga over his head when he saw Brutus among the conspirators, though
Suetonius does record other reports that Caesar said in Greek "καὶ σὺ, τέκνον;" (Kai su,
teknon?, "And you, child?" The Latin words Et tu, Brute?, however, were not devised by
Shakespeare for this play since they are attributed to Caesar in earlier Elizabethan works
and had become conventional by 1599.
Shakespeare deviated from these historical facts to curtail time and compress the facts so that
the play could be staged more easily. The tragic force is condensed into a few scenes for
heightened effect.
Act I: Scene 1
On a street in ancient Rome, Flavius and Marullus, two Roman tribunes — judges meant to
protect the rights of the people — accost a group of workmen and ask them to name their trades
and to explain their absence from work. The first workman answers straight forwardly, but the
second workman answers with a spirited string of puns that he is a cobbler and that he and his
fellow workmen have gathered to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph over Pompey.
Marullus accuses the workmen of forgetting that they are desecrating the great Pompey, whose
triumphs they once cheered so enthusiastically. He upbraids them for wanting to honor the man
who is celebrating a victory in battle over Pompey's sons, and he commands them to return to
their homes to ask forgiveness of the gods for their offensive ingratitude. Flavius orders them to
assemble all the commoners they can and take them to the banks of the Tiber and fill it with their
tears of remorse for the dishonor they have shown Pompey.
Flavius then tells Marullus to assist him in removing the ceremonial decorations that have been
placed on public statues in honor of Caesar's triumph. Marullus questions the propriety of doing
so on the day during which the feast of Lupercal is being celebrated, but Flavius says that they
must remove the ornaments to prevent Caesar from becoming a godlike tyrant.
Analysis
Understand the opening scenes of Shakespeare's plays and you understand what follows: The
scene has been painted with brilliant strokes. As Julius Caesar opens, Flavius and Marullus,
tribunes of Rome, are attempting to reestablish civil order. But it's too little, too late: There is
disorder in the streets. The tribunes call upon the commoners to identify themselves in terms of
their occupations. In the past, Flavius could recognize a man's status by his dress, but now all the
signposts of stability are gone and the world is out of control and dangerous. At first glance, this
disorder is attributed to the lower classes who won't wear the signs of their trade and who taunt
the tribunes with saucy language full of puns, but while the fickle and dangerous nature of the
common Romans is an important theme in later scenes, here the reader is given indications that
the real fault lies with the ruling class, which is, after all, responsible for the proper governing of
the people.

72. When Flavius demands, "Is this a holiday?" he is asking whether Caesar's triumph ought to be
celebrated. It's a rhetorical question. Flavius thinks poor Romans ought not to celebrate but
should "weep [their] tears / Into the channel, till the lowest stream / Do kiss the most exalted
shores of all." Caesar, a member of the ruling class, has violently overthrown the government
and brought civil strife with him. These issues would have resonated with an audience of the
time, able to recall civil disturbances themselves and with a ruler who, by virtue of being a
woman, was perceived as less able to rule than a man. (Paradoxically, Elizabeth brought a great
deal of peace and stability to England.) In addition, his contemporaries would have recognized
that Caesar has overstepped his bounds. Statues of him wearing a crown have been set up before
he has been offered the position of ruler, and Flavius and Marullus plan to deface them. Just as
Caesar has brought disorder with him, the tribunes contribute to the upheaval by becoming part
of the unruly mob themselves.
Why are these statues, erected by supporters of Caesar, set up in the first place? In effect, they
are, like modern advertising and political spin doctoring, meant to establish an image of Caesar
in the popular imagination. Romans would associate statues with gods and important political
figures. Thus Caesar would take on the same associations. In addition, by putting a crown on
Caesar before he is actually given the job, the people of Rome are better prepared when it
happens. The image already established, Caesar's supporters hope that the event will be more
palatable and the transition to power smoother. The act of erecting these statues is part of the
process of persuasion and persuasion is a central theme of this play.
But if persuasion is necessary, it is because political factions are vying for power. This
splintering of the ruling class means that there is no longer one common vision of what Rome is
and what it is to be a Roman. Marullus draws attention to this problem when he returns to
Flavius' original question, "Is this a holiday?" As Marullus points out, it is indeed a holiday, the
festival of Lupercal. He is concerned that by disrobing the images "deck'd with ceremonies" he
will destroy ceremonies meant not only to celebrate Caesar but also a festival that is part of
Rome's history, tradition, and religion. Ceremonies and rituals, in both Roman and Elizabethan
terms, were means of maintaining social order, of knowing who you were as a group. By
destroying that identity, Marullus seems to sense that he will contribute to the destruction of the
state. His intuition is correct and foreshadows the battles to come.
Act I: Scene 2
Caesar, having entered Rome in triumph, calls to his wife, Calphurnia, and orders her to stand
where Mark Antony, about to run in the traditional footrace of the Lupercal, can touch her as he
passes. Caesar shares the belief that if a childless woman is touched by one of the holy runners,
she will lose her sterility.
A soothsayer calls from the crowd warning Caesar to "beware the ides of March," but Caesar
pays no attention and departs with his attendants, leaving Brutus and Cassius behind.
Cassius begins to probe Brutus about his feelings toward Caesar and the prospect of Caesar's
becoming a dictator in Rome. Brutus has clearly been disturbed about this issue for some time.
Cassius reminds Brutus that Caesar is merely a mortal like them, with ordinary human
weaknesses, and he says that he would rather die than see such a man become his master. He
reminds Brutus of Brutus' noble ancestry and of the expectations of his fellow Romans that he
will serve his country as his ancestors did. Brutus is obviously moved, but he is unsure of what to
do.

73. Several times during their conversation, Cassius and Brutus hear shouts and the sounds of
trumpets. Caesar re-enters with his attendants and, in passing, he remarks to Mark Antony that he
feels suspicious of Cassius, who "has a lean and hungry look; / He thinks too much. Such men
are dangerous."
As Caesar exits, Brutus and Cassius stop Casca and converse with him. He tells them that Mark
Antony offered the crown to Caesar three times, but that Caesar rejected it each time and then
fell down in an epileptic seizure. The three men agree to think further about the matter, and when
Casca and Brutus have gone, Cassius in a brief soliloquy indicates his plans to secure Brutus
firmly for the conspiracy that he is planning against Caesar.
Analysis
Unrest is possible in Rome because the new leader is weak. The audience is given evidence of
this at the opening of Scene 2. Antony is about to run a race (an important and religious element
of the Lupercalian festivities) and Caesar calls on him to touch Calphurnia, Caesar's wife, as he
passes "for our elders say, / The barren, touched in this holy chase, / Shake off their sterile
curse." Calphurnia has not borne Caesar any children, and while in the Elizabethan mind the
problem would have resided with the woman, here, Caesar's virility is also in question. The fact
that he calls upon another man, known for his athleticism, carousing, and womanizing, suggests
that Caesar is impotent.
A lack of virility is not Caesar's only problem. He also is unable to recognize and take heed of
good advice. A soothsayer enters the scene and "with a clear tongue shriller than all the music,"
warns Caesar of the ides of March. Caesar doesn't hear the man clearly, but others do, and it is
Shakespeare's ironic hand that has Brutus, who will be Caesar's murderer, repeat the warning.
Caesar has every opportunity to heed these words. He hears them again from the soothsayer and
even takes the opportunity to look into the speaker's face and examine it for honesty, but he
misreads what he sees. The soothsayer is termed a dreamer and is dismissed.
Some critics of this play call Caesar a superstitious man and weak for that reason, but that is not
the real root of the problem. All of the characters in this play believe in the supernatural. It is one
of the play's themes that they all misinterpret and attempt to turn signs and omens to their own
advantage. What characterizes Caesar as weak is susceptibility to flattering interpretations of
omens and his inability to distinguish between good advice and bad, good advisors and bad.
Those who surround Caesar are not all supporters. At Caesar's departure, Cassius and Brutus are
left onstage. Cassius, whose political purpose is to gather people around him and overthrow
Caesar, tests the waters with Brutus. He asks if he intends to watch the race and Brutus is less
than enthusiastic. Brutus speaks disapprovingly of Antony's quickness. Cassius, who is a very
good reader of other people, interprets this as Brutus' dislike of the new regime and goes on to
probe a little further to find out if he will join his group of conspirators. Brutus resists the idea of
speaking against Caesar, but Cassius flatters him, suggesting that no matter what Brutus says or
does, he could never be anything but a good man.
Their speech is interrupted by a shout offstage and the abruptness of it causes Brutus to display
more of his feeling than he may have otherwise. He says that he fears that the people have
elected Caesar their king. Cassius has the green light now and presses his case. He speaks of how
Caesar oversteps his bounds by calling himself a god when he is only a man and not a very
strong one at that. He recounts saving Caesar from drowning. He describes the fever that left

74. Caesar groaning and trembling. Another offstage shout adds urgency to what Cassius says.
Brutus is swayed.
With Caesar's return to the stage — not crowned as Cassius and Brutus expect — he looking
unhappy and is none too pleased that Cassius is lurking about with "a lean and hungry look." But
Cassius is not truly tainted by this description because Caesar goes on to complain that he has
not been able to corrupt Cassius and make him fat, luxurious, and distracted by orchestrated
spectacles. So Caesar sees Cassius as a good Roman. On the other hand, Caesar worries that
"Such men as he be never at heart's ease / Whiles they behold a greater than themselves," and he
accuses Cassius of being too ambitious, which makes Cassius not a good Roman. Cassius thus
cannot be categorized as good or bad — like all the other actors in this drama, he is complex and
very human.
Caesar's insight into Cassius' character reveals Caesar to be an intelligent and effective man, but
as Caesar leaves the stage he reveals a physical weakness that represents a moral and intellectual
weakness: He is deaf in one ear and can hear only one side of the issue — Antony's. Caesar and
Antony exit, with the latter calming Caesar's fears.
The others remain onstage. Casca describes to Cassius and Brutus what all the shouting had been
about, how Caesar had to tried to build enthusiasm for his ascent to the throne by pretending
disinterest. The plan backfired and the crowd shouted not because they wanted him to be
crowned but because they were responding to the theater he had created, as they "did clap him
and hiss him, according as he pleas'd and displeas'd them, as they use to do the players in the
theatre." The biggest cheer arose when Caesar refused the crown and his fit of pique was
represented bodily by a fit of epilepsy.
Casca reveals his own sympathies when he mentions that he had trouble keeping himself from
laughing at the scene, and Cassius invites him to dinner in order to convert him to the
conspirators' cause.
Brutus, not yet converted, is nonetheless sympathetic and suggests that he and Cassius get
together the next day to discuss it further. The scene finishes with Cassius alone on stage. He
mistrusts Brutus' nobility and his loyalty to the state, and decides on a ploy to convince him.
Having determined the possibility of Brutus' open mind, he will write flattering letters that seem
to come from the people and will throw them in Brutus' open window. He could not do this with
any hope of success, however, were he not aware that Brutus' mind was open to the suggestion.
Act I: Scene 3
That evening, Cicero and Casca meet on a street in Rome. There has been a terrible storm, and
Casca describes to Cicero the unnatural phenomena that have occurred: An owl hooted in the
marketplace at noon, the sheeted dead rose out of their graves, and so on. Cicero then departs and
Cassius enters. He interprets the supernatural happenings as divine warnings that Caesar
threatens to destroy the Republic. He urges Casca to work with him in opposing Caesar. When
Cinna, another conspirator, joins them, Cassius urges him to throw a message through Brutus'
window and to take other steps that will induce Brutus to participate in the plot. The three
conspirators, now firmly united in an attempt to unseat Caesar, agree to meet with others of their
party — Decius Brutus, Trebonius, and Metellus Cimber — at Pompey's Porch. They are
confident that they will soon win Brutus to their cause.
Analysis

75. Scene 3 opens with the natural world reflecting the unrest of the state. Casca, soon to be a
conspirator, is unnerved by what is going on. Cicero, a senator and thus a representative of the
status quo, is, on the other hand, blissfully unaware of the danger at hand. It is Casca's task to
describe the omens he has seen for Cicero. Cicero's response to that impulse is as follows:
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time;
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Cicero suggests that each person will interpret events for their own purposes, and this is, in
effect, what happens. Cassius enters the scene and the opening exchange between Casca and
Cassius is an interesting one. Cassius asks "Who's there?" and Casca answers "A Roman,"
identifying himself as a man loyal to the idea of being a Roman — not necessarily one who
supports the state as it stands now, but one who embodies all the glories of Rome's past. Cassius
recognizes Casca's voice and the latter compliments his ear, reminding the reader, by contrast, of
Caesar's deaf ear and his inability to hear, both literally and metaphorically. Thus the reader is
left with two contrasting images: Cassius as strong, intuitive, clever; Caesar as weak, deluded,
and rather unintelligent.
It is Cassius' cleverness that comes to the fore now. In order to convince Casca of the worth of
his cause, Cassius does just as Cicero, the great orator, has suggested men would — he interprets
and manipulates the omens for his own purposes. In his hands, all of these frightening events are
happening because the heavens "hath infus'd them with these spirits, / To make them instruments
of fear and warning / Unto some monstrous state." The monstrous state, Casca is meant to
believe, is Caesar's Rome. Cassius tells Casca that there is a man who is "most like this dreadful
night, / That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars / As doth the lion in the Capitol." Casca
asks directly if Cassius means Caesar but, not wanting to reveal himself too quickly and not
wanting to leave the possibility open that his words could be turned against him, Cassius allows
Casca to draw his own conclusions. Having established the problem, Cassius comes up with a
solution. He points out that Caesar is just a man, not a god, and that all of these terrible visions
can be overcome by a true, idealized Roman who calls on the spirits of his ancestors for strength
and perseverance. Once again, Cassius has found the best way to persuade his listener — in this
case, he has called on Casca's image of himself as a noble and loyal Roman, and given him an
opportunity to act on it.
Casca joins the plot and the conspirators' faction is enlarged, but to be successful, the person they
really need is Brutus. Brutus is well-regarded, wields a great deal of power and, after Caesar is
overthrown, has the strength to manage that chaotic and potentially dangerous group, the people.
"O, he sits high in all the people's hearts; / And that which would appear offence in us, / His
countenance, like richest alchymy, / Will change to virtue and to worthiness." Act I ends in
gloom and darkness with the state beginning to splinter. The daylight that Cassius perceives on
the horizon is, paradoxically, a light that will show the cracks all the more clearly.
Act II: Scene 1
Brutus is in his orchard. It is night and he calls impatiently for his servant, Lucius, and sends him
to light a candle in his study. When Lucius has gone, Brutus speaks one of the most important
and controversial soliloquies in the play. He says that he has "no personal cause to spurn at"
Caesar, except "for the general," meaning that there are general reasons for the public good. Thus
far, Caesar has seemingly been as virtuous as any other man, but Brutus fears that after he is

76. "augmented" (crowned), his character will change, for it is in the nature of things that power
produces tyranny. He therefore decides to agree to Caesar's assassination: to "think him as a
serpent's egg, / Which, hatched, would as his kind, grow mischievous, / And kill him in the
shell."
Lucius re-enters and gives Brutus a letter that has been thrown into his window. The various
conspirators — Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius — now arrive.
Cassius proposes that they all seal their compact with an oath, but Brutus objects on the ground
that honorable men acting in a just cause need no such bond. When Cassius raises the question of
inviting Cicero into the conspiracy, Brutus persuades the conspirators to exclude Cicero from the
conspiracy. Cassius then argues that Mark Antony should be killed along with Caesar; Brutus
opposes this too as being too bloody a course, and he urges that they be "sacrificers, but not
butchers." It is the spirit of Caesar, he asserts, to which they stand opposed, and "in the spirit of
men there is no blood."
When the conspirators have departed, Brutus notices that his servant, Lucius, has fallen asleep.
At this moment, Portia, his wife, enters, disturbed and concerned by her husband's strange
behavior. She demands to know what is troubling him. She asserts her strength and reminds
Brutus that because she is Cato's daughter, her quality of mind raises her above ordinary women;
she asks to share his burden with him. Deeply impressed by her speech, Brutus promises to tell
her what has been troubling him.
Portia leaves, and Lucius is awakened and ushers in Caius Ligarius, who has been sick, but who
now declares that to follow Brutus in his noble endeavor, "I here discard my sickness." They set
forth together.
Analysis
While the reader has been led to believe in Brutus' strength of nobility, there is a touch of
weakness in the self-delusion he must create before he can join the conspirators: Brutus feels that
murder is wrong and so must find a way to justify his actions. It's not for personal reasons that he
will do it, but for the general; that is, for the good of the people of Rome. He generalizes about
the effects of power and ambition and anticipates the damage that Caesar will do when he gains
the crown. He has to admit, however, that Caesar has not yet committed any of these wrongs.
Brutus has to convince himself to kill Caesar before he has the opportunity to achieve his
ambition; that is, he will "kill him in the shell." The final element of his persuasion comes from
an outside source. He responds to the call of the people without knowing that the call is false.
The letters that Cassius has penned have been discovered in Brutus' closet; he reads them and is
persuaded by them under the same harsh and distorting "exhalations of the air" that light the
conspirators' way to Brutus' doorstep. By that light, one can see that Brutus is as tainted as any of
the other conspirators.
Brutus, although he has decided to be one of the conspirators, knows that what they plan is
wrong. "O Conspiracy, / Sham'st thou to show thy dang'rous brow by night, / When evils are
most free?" (emphasis added). But being a man of his word, he is committed to the plan. After a
brief, whispered discussion with Cassius, Brutus takes on the leadership of the group, and when
Cassius calls on the group to swear to continue as they have planned, Brutus stops them, and
begins by a sort of negative persuasion to fix their resolve and establish himself as leader. "No,
not an oath!" he says. If their motives are not strong enough, an oath will not help them to
accomplish the deed. Only cowards and deceivers would swear, and to swear would be to taint

77. what they do. This is how Brutus convinces his men. He creates a void, takes away what Cassius
says, and then fills it with his own voice. By stripping away the words of an oath and by
replacing that oath with images of valiant Romans, their very blood carrying strength, nobility,
and constancy, Brutus inspires his men and establishes himself as their leader. Caesar, therefore,
is not alone in his ambition.
This image of nobility disappears rather abruptly as the conspirators return to the details of the
plan. What about Cicero? Should they try to get him on their side? He carries a lot of weight.
Perhaps he'd be useful. Maybe they could claim him as the author of what they do and spread
some of the responsibility around. Brutus points out that Cicero is too much his own man and
will not follow anyone, and so he is excluded. Next, they must decide what to do about Mark
Antony. He is a powerful and dangerous foe, but Brutus is doubtful, not wanting to murder for
the sake of killing and even regretting that Caesar's blood must be shed.
Blood imagery begins to replace the lightening and flame that dominated the earlier part of the
scene. It is as though a bloody rain follows the rumbling warnings of thunder. By means of this
fluid image, Shakespeare moves easily between all the connotations that blood offers. The
conspirators are up to no good, yet they attempt to lend credibility to what they do by calling on
their noble Roman ancestry — their blood — in order to spill Caesar's blood. By this
bloodletting, they believe they will regain the masculinity and strength that the state has lost. By
penetrating Caesar's body, by exposing his weakness and effeminacy, Romans will be men
again.
Just as interesting is the image of blood that Brutus' wife, Portia, brings to the stage. As the
conspirators leave their home, Portia sees "some six or seven, who did hide their faces / Even
from the darkness." She knows something is very wrong. Brutus hasn't been sleeping well and is
drawn from bed "to dare the vile contagion of the night." Her husband attempts to put off her
questions but she, among all the characters of the play, seems most able to cut through the
darkness and see the truth. "No, my Brutus, / You have some sick offense within your mind."
Portia represents strong Roman womanhood, yet can still only be defined in terms of the men
around her. She points out that she is the daughter of Cato, a man famed for his integrity, and the
wife of Brutus, and for these reasons Brutus should confide in her. Portia's credibility is
described in the images of blood. She is Brutus' "true and honorable wife / As dear to [him] as
are the ruddy drops / That visit [his] sad heart."
The meaning of this bloodletting is two-fold. First, the audience is meant to remember the Greek
myth of the birth of Athena, the goddess associated with both war and wisdom, and who is
sometimes described as having been born of the thigh of Zeus. Second, one sees that it is a
woman who bears the marks of true Roman nobility. The self-wounding in her thigh is a sort of
suicide, an act valued by the Romans as the ultimate sacrifice in the face of dishonor. Portia's
honorable bloodletting, then, suggests that the male characters in the play, even though they call
on their ancestry and on the ideas of strength and honour, do so in a dishonorable cause. Still, she
is a woman, and even though she is "so father'd and so husbanded," she is unable to stem the
flow of blood that the conspirators have begun.
Act II: Scene 2
The scene is set in Caesar's house during a night of thunder and lightning, and Caesar is
commenting on the tumultuous weather and upon Calphurnia's having dreamed of his being
murdered. He sends a servant to instruct his augurers, men designated to interpret signs and

78. appease the gods, to perform a sacrifice. Calphurnia enters and implores Caesar not to leave
home for the day. She describes the unnatural phenomena that have brought her to believe in the
validity of omens. Caesar replies that no one can alter the plans of the gods and that he will go
out. When Calphurnia says that the heavens proclaim the deaths of princes, not beggars, Caesar
contends that the fear of death is senseless because men cannot avoid its inevitability.
The servant returns with information that the priests suggest Caesar stay at home today because
they could not find a heart in the sacrificed beast. Caesar rejects their interpretation, but
Calphurnia does finally persuade him to stay at home and have Antony tell the senators that he is
sick. Decius then enters, and Caesar decides to send the message by him; Decius asks what
reason he is to give to the senators for Caesar's failure to attend today's session, and Caesar says
to tell them simply that he "will not come. / That is enough to satisfy the Senate." Privately,
however, he admits to Decius that it is because of Calphurnia's dream in which many "smiling
Romans" dipped their hands in blood flowing from a statue of him. Decius, resorting to the
flattery to which he knows Caesar is susceptible, reinterprets the dream and says that
Calphurnia's dream is symbolic of Caesar's blood reviving Rome; the smiling Romans are
seeking distinctive vitality from the great Caesar. When Decius suggests that the senate will
ridicule Caesar for being governed by his wife's dreams, Caesar expresses shame for having been
swayed by Calphurnia's foolish fears. He declares that he will go to the Capitol.
Publius and the remaining conspirators — all except Cassius — enter, and Brutus reminds
Caesar that it is after eight o'clock. Caesar heartily welcomes Antony, commenting on his habit
of partying late into the night. Caesar then prepares to leave and requests that Trebonius "be near
me" today to conduct some business. Trebonius consents, and in an aside states that he will be
closer than Caesar's "best friends" would like for him to be. In another aside, Brutus grieves
when he realizes that all of Caesar's apparent friends are not true friends.
Analysis
If Portia is noble, Calphurnia, Caesar's wife, suffers greatly in comparison. She is not so well-
husbanded, for here Caesar shows himself to be weak and superstitious. Still, there is truth in
Calphurnia's dreams and real caring for her husband in her attempts to keep him from going to
the Capitol. Her fault lies in her shrewish nature, which her husband allows to get out of control.
Her ability to convince him to stay at home serves to show his weakness.
Caesar shows some vestiges of masculinity, however. Calphurnia describes "fierce, fiery
warriors . . . which drizzled blood upon the Capitol," but Caesar responds that "cowards die
many times before their deaths." He is determined not be a coward. But as Calphurnia kneels
before him, he is persuaded. Here, the reader is meant to remember Portia's actions in the
previous scene. She, too, knelt before her husband and he was persuaded. Shakespeare invites the
readers to draw comparisons between the two and see a strong woman married to a strong man
and a weak woman married to a weak man.
Decius enters the scene as Caesar agrees to feign illness and stay at home. Decius uses all of his
powers of persuasion to ensure that Caesar will go out that day. Caesar orders Decius to say he
will not come — Caesar seems unable to give one command and follow it through, but is
constantly changing his mind — but Decius will not do so unless he can give a good reason for
Caesar's non-appearance. Caesar tells of Calphurnia's dream, that "she saw my statue, / Which,
like a fountain with an hundred spouts, / Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans / Came
smiling and did bathe their hands in it." Decius reinterprets the dream for him and convinces him

79. that it is a good omen, appealing to Caesar's vanity. Yet even in Decius' flattering description,
Caesar is effeminized, for the blood that pours from his statue signifies that "great Rome shall
suck / Reviving blood." Caesar is placed in the position of mother, rather than father, of Rome.
Convinced, Caesar prepares to go to the Capitol and the tension begins to build. Suddenly, he is
surrounded by the men who plan to kill him and his only protector, Antony, enters, tired from the
previous night's revels. Caesar, through vanity and weakness, blithely begins the procession to
his own death.
Act II: Scene 3
Artemidorus enters a street near the Capitol reading from a paper that warns Caesar of danger
and that names each of the conspirators. He intends to give the letter to Caesar and he reasons
that Caesar may survive if the fates do not ally themselves with the conspirators.

Analysis
This short scene is tinged with irony. Artemidorus, a teacher of rhetoric, capable of grand and
complex flourishes of speech, speaks most clearly and directly. His note to Caesar contains only
facts, but has one great fault: For Caesar to acknowledge the facts, he has to admit that he is not a
god, providing bloody sustenance to all of Rome, but a mere mortal. That he could never do.
This scene allows you to see another opinion of Caesar. Artemidorus is a Roman who loves
Caesar and sees the conspirators as traitors. From this man's viewpoint, the reader gets a hint of
the greatness that was once Caesar.
This scene also highlights the public nature of the conspiracy. Given that Artemidorus knows all
about the conspirators and their plans, it is made clear that the latter have not kept quiet. Caesar
is among the few who do not know what is about to happen.
Act II: Scene 4
Portia and Lucius enter the street in front of Brutus' house, where Portia is extremely excited.
She suggests that Brutus has told her of his plans (in fact, he has not had an opportunity), and she
repeatedly gives Lucius incomplete instructions concerning an errand to the Capitol. She
struggles to maintain self-control and reacts violently to imagined noises that she thinks emanate
from the Capitol.
A soothsayer enters and says that he is on his way to see Caesar enter the Senate House. Portia
inquires if he knows of any plans to harm Caesar, and he answers only that he fears what may
happen to Caesar. He then leaves to seek a place from which he can speak to Caesar. Portia sends
Lucius to give her greetings to Brutus and to tell him that she is in good spirits, and then to report
back immediately to her.
Analysis
In this scene, Portia wishes to act but cannot for she has "a man's mind, but a woman's might."
Portia's untenable position — her fear that her husband's plan will be discovered (although she
does not know exactly what the plan is) and that she cannot act to help him — add to tension at
the end of Act II. Caesar is on his way to the Capitol surrounded by murderers. Artemidorous
may offer him a way out if he can only hear it and the soothsayer of this scene looks as though

80. he may offer Caesar another chance. What will happen, however, is, so far, only "a bustling
rumor, like a fray, / And the wind brings it from the Capitol."
Act III: Scene 1
Outside the Capitol, Caesar appears with Antony, Lepidus, and all of the conspirators. He sees
the soothsayer and reminds the man that "The ides of March are come." The soothsayer answers,
"Aye, Caesar, but not gone." Artemidorus calls to Caesar, urging him to read the paper
containing his warning, but Caesar refuses to read it. Caesar then enters the Capitol, and Popilius
Lena whispers to Cassius, "I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive." The rest enter the Capitol,
and Trebonius deliberately and discretely takes Antony offstage so that he (Antony) will not
interfere with the assassination. At this point, Metellus Cimber pleads with Caesar that his
brother's banishment be repealed; Caesar refuses and Brutus, Casca, and the others join in the
plea. Their pleadings rise in intensity and suddenly, from behind, Casca stabs Caesar. As the
others also stab Caesar, he falls and dies, saying "Et tu, Bruté?"
While the conspirators attempt to quiet the onlookers, Trebonius enters with the news that Mark
Antony has fled home. Then the conspirators all stoop, bathe their hands in Caesar's blood, and
brandish their weapons aloft, preparing to walk "waving our red weapons o'er our heads" out into
the marketplace, crying "Peace, freedom, and liberty!"
A servant enters bearing Mark Antony's request that he be permitted to come to them and "be
resolved / How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death." Brutus grants the plea and Antony enters.
Antony gives a farewell address to the dead body of Caesar; then he pretends a reconciliation
with the conspirators, shakes the hand of each of them, and requests permission to make a speech
at Caesar's funeral. This Brutus grants him, in spite of Cassius' objections.
When the conspirators have departed, Antony begs pardon of Caesar's dead body for his having
been "meek and gentle with these butchers." He predicts that "Caesar's spirit, ranging for
revenge," will bring civil war and chaos to all of Italy. A servant enters then and says that
Octavius Caesar is seven leagues from Rome, but that he is coming. Antony tells the young man
that he is going into the marketplace to "try, / In my oration, how the people take / The cruel
issue of these bloody men." He wants the servant to witness his oration to the people so that he
can relate to Octavius how they were affected. The two men exit, carrying the body of Caesar.
Analysis
When the moment of crisis arrives and Caesar enters the public square, the conspirators are pent
up and concerned when Popilius wishes them well. Their anxiety is at such a pitch that they are
unable to determine what he actually means when he says "I wish your enterprise to-day may
thrive." In fact, they almost act precipitously to kill him but are calmed by Brutus who makes
them wait to see if Caesar is put on guard. To heighten the crises, Shakespeare shifts from
lengthy speeches, asides, and soliloquies to short bursts of dialogue.
The first crisis in this scene is the accumulating danger of discovery arising from the words of
the soothsayer, Artemidorus, and Popilius. As that danger is resolved, a graver crisis is suitably
expressed in slower and heavier tones. The conspirators ritualistically turn to their prey (Caesar)
and mock him with their courtesies. Metellus Cimber kneels before Caesar to press his case that
his banished brother be allowed to return to Rome, but Caesar preempts him, mocks him and
humiliates him. Cimber is a "base spaniel fawning." There is no suit, really. Instead, Metellus
Cimber's actions are a trick on the part of the conspirators to get close enough to Caesar to kill

81. him, and to keep others who may help away. One by one, slowly and methodically, the
conspirators come to Caesar, circle him, and kneel. Their words bear all the malice that "sweet
words" can afford, during which Caesar shows himself as a self-involved, self-important tyrant.
They kill him, but the murder is not the last crisis of the scene. There is a slight pause in the
action for purposes of regrouping, both for the characters and for the audience. The conspirators
turn away from the body of Caesar and shout to the populace of what they have gained —
freedom and the death of ambition. Before long, however, the specter of danger reappears.
Cassius asks "Where is Antony?" Instead of bringing freedom to Rome, the conspirators have
actually caused more instability. This group will not hold the state together, and Mark Antony is
the troublemaker.
Antony sends a servant to test the waters — better the servant should be run through than his
master — revealing Antony as a consummate survivor. This is not to say that he does not truly
grieve Caesar's death. His feelings are clear when he views the corpse and sees the murderers,
their arms bathed in Caesar's blood. Yet, he is able to cover his feelings, not only so that he can
place himself in a position to avenge Caesar's death, but also so that he can find his own position
of power. In contrast to the conspirators — even the sharpest of them, Cassius — Antony is
strong and politically savvy. Gone are the images of him as womanizer and drunkard. He's taken
charge at the moment of greatest danger and he does so by manipulating Brutus' naïveté.
Speaking of Antony, Brutus says, "I know that we shall have him well to friend," but he is wrong
— Antony has a plan to persuade the populace to his side at the funeral oration and turn them
against the conspirators. Further, while the conspirators weren't very good at keeping their plans
to themselves, Antony has been successful. He knows that his ally, Octavius, is on the outskirts
of Rome. A military strategy is already afoot. What it is, Antony doesn't divulge, but because
Antony tries to dissuade Octavius from entering Rome, the reader may wonder whether Antony
does this in order to avoid sharing power.
The ultimate crisis in this scene is the danger that Rome is now in. Consider the way that Antony
expresses his grief over his friend's death, indicating that Caesar's body is no longer his own but
has become a symbol for Rome itself: "O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth," describing
Caesar as "the ruins of the noblest man." No longer flesh and blood, he stands for the breeching
of Rome. It is Rome as well as Caesar whose wounds "Which like dumb mouths do ope their
ruby lips / To beg the voice and utterance of [Antony's] tongue."
Act III: Scene 2
Brutus and Cassius enter the Forum, which is thronged with citizens demanding satisfaction.
They divide the crowd — Cassius leading off one portion to hear his argument, and Brutus
presenting reasons to those remaining behind at the Forum. Brutus asks the citizens to contain
their emotions until he has finished, to bear in mind that he is honorable, and to use their reason
in order to judge him. He then sets before them his reasons for the murder of Caesar and points
out that documentation exists in the Capitol that support his claims. The citizens are convinced
and at the end of his oration, cheer him with emotion. He then directs them to listen to Antony's
funeral oration.
Antony indicates that, like Brutus, he will deliver a reasoned oration. He refers to Brutus'
accusation that Caesar was ambitious, acknowledges that he speaks with "honorable" Brutus'
permission, and proceeds to counter all of Brutus' arguments. The crowd begins to be swayed by
his logic and his obvious sorrow over his friend's murder. They are ultimately turned into an

82. unruly mob calling for the blood of the conspirators by mention of Caesar's generosity in leaving
money and property to the people of Rome, and by the spectacle of Caesar's bleeding body,
which Antony unveils.
The mob leaves to cremate Caesar's body with due reverence, to burn the houses of the assassins,
and to wreak general destruction. Antony is content; he muses, "Mischief, thou art afoot, / Take
thou what course thou wilt!"
A servant enters and informs Antony that Octavius has arrived and is with Lepidus at Caesar's
house. Antony is pleased and decides to visit him immediately to plan to take advantage of the
chaos he has created. The servant reports that Brutus and Cassius have fled Rome, and Antony
suspects that they have heard of his rousing the people to madness.
Analysis
Brutus is blithely unaware of the danger that he has allowed to enter the scene. He speaks to the
people of Rome in order to make them understand what he has done and why, and with relatively
straightforward logic, lays out his rationale before the people and makes them believe that he
was right. He describes Caesar's great ambition and suggests to the plebeians that under Caesar's
rule they would have been enslaved. Again, the audience is given an understanding of the masses
as easily swayed — they do not seem able to form their own opinions but take on the coloration
of the most persuasive orator. They are necessary to the successful running of the state, yet they
are a dangerous bunch that could turn at any moment. Brutus convinces them of his cause by his
use of reason. Even his style is reasonable, here presented in evenhanded prose rather than the
rhetorical flourish of Antony's poetry.
Antony is a master of the theatrical. What more dramatic effect could there be than Antony
entering the forum bearing the body of the slain leader? No matter what Brutus says, and despite
the fact that the crowd is emphatically on his side, from this moment, all eyes are turned to Mark
Antony and the corpse he bears. In his trusting naïveté, Brutus leaves the stage to his opponent.
What follows is Antony's now-famous "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; / I
come to bury Caesar, not to praise him" funeral oration. Antony's rhetorical skill is impressive;
he instantly disarms any opposition in the crowd by saying "I come to bury Caesar, not to praise
him," but quickly follows this with a subtle turn of phrase that suggests Caesar was a good man
and that all that was good of him will go to the grave. He has turned his audience's attention from
the "evil ambition" of which Brutus spoke.
Look closely at the rhythms that Antony builds into his oration. Think of Dr. Martin Luther
King, Jr.'s "I have a dream" speech, and the repeated emphasis in that speech on one phrase.
Antony does the same thing with the phrase "For Brutus is an honorable man, / So are they all,
all honorable men" or "But Brutus says he was ambitious, / And Brutus is an honorable man."
The phrase is repeated four times, in slightly variant forms, allowing Antony not only to counter
each of Brutus' arguments, but also question Brutus' honor simply by drawing so much attention
to it.
Finally, Antony incites the mob by suggesting that they have something to gain from Caesar's
will. By this means, he initiates desire but must then direct it. He begins to create the desire for
revenge and each time he does so, he strengthens that desire by reigning it in. Each time he holds
them back, he builds their desire until finally they are passionate enough to do what Antony
wants, seek out and kill the conspirators, and, consequently, leave him in power. As a finishing
touch, just as Antony created an impressive image by entering the Forum bearing the body of

83. Caesar, he draws his oration to a close by pointing to another image that will remain in the minds
of the people as they riot. He reveals Caesar's wounds. As Antony is fully aware, that image
speaks far better for his cause than any words possibly could.
Act III: Scene 3
Cinna the poet is on his way to attend Caesar's funeral when he is accosted by a group of riotous
citizens who demand to know who he is and where he is going. He tells them that his name is
Cinna and his destination is Caesar's funeral. They mistake him, however, for the conspirator
Cinna and move to assault him. He pleads that he is Cinna the poet and not Cinna the
conspirator, but they reply that they will kill him anyway because of "his bad verses." With
Cinna captive, the crowd exits, declaring their intent to burn the houses belonging to Brutus,
Cassius, Decius, Casca, and Caius Ligarius.
Analysis
What is surprising about this relatively short scene is its complexity. The purpose of these thirty-
eight lines is not simply to show the way in which mob mentality has overtaken Rome — how
far ordered society has disintegrated — although violence and intimidation are well represented
here in the threateningly rhythmic incantation of the plebeians' questions. The reader can imagine
them surrounding Cinna the poet, closing in on him, firing questions from all sides. Cinna's
terror is evident in his confused response. This is the realm of mob rule.
More interesting, however, is why Shakespeare chose to have the plebeians attack an artist.
Cinna the poet is being asked to account for himself, not only as a citizen, but as a poet, and he
does not pass muster. The plebeians initially attack him as a conspirator, but when they find out
who he really is, they are still perfectly prepared to kill him, this time "for his bad verses."
Shakespeare has not created a scene of simple mistaken identity. He is asking the reader to
examine the position of the poet in this society. To whom must the artist account for his work?
What responsibility does he have in making a good and well-ordered society? Who is best able to
judge him? These questions were often in the Elizabethan audience's mind. The artist was quite
regularly asked to justify himself and his work, and the debate about whether he was dangerous
to a stable and moral society was a common one. That the artist would feel the pressure of these
demands is metaphorically evident in this scene. Dismembered at the hands of the mob, Cinna
the poet is torn as easily as the paper on which those "bad verses" were written.
Act IV: Scene 1
After they have formed the Second Triumvirate, Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus meet in Rome to
decide which Romans shall live and which shall die. Lepidus agrees to the death of his brother,
and Antony agrees to the death of a nephew. Antony then sends Lepidus to obtain Caesar's will
so that they can reduce some of the bequests. After he exits, Antony tells Octavius that Lepidus
may be fit to run errands but that he is not fit to rule one-third of the world; after they are through
using him, they will assume the power he temporarily enjoys. Octavius does not want to argue
with Antony, but he recognizes Lepidus to be a proven, brave soldier. Antony answers that his
horse also has those qualities; therefore, Lepidus will be trained and used. Antony and Octavius
then agree that they must make immediate plans to combat the armies being organized by Brutus
and Cassius.
Analysis

84. In his funeral oration, Antony spoke to the people of Caesar's will. He told them of a bequest of
money and property to the people of Rome. With blinding speed, Antony seeks to revoke that
will, keeping the money and properties for himself, for Octavius, and for the third member of the
triumvirate who will rule Rome, Lepidus. In this manner, you can confirm what you may already
believe — that Antony has manipulated the people with his own advantage in mind.
The question, then, is not whether these men will respect Caesar's final wishes (they will not),
but which of the three men now in power will dominate. Lepidus, who is, in effect, Antony's
messenger, sent to retrieve Caesar's will, has no power. The real battle takes place between
Octavius and Antony with no clear winner established. So why does Shakespeare concern the
reader with this question? Because this power struggle is another aspect of the concern that
desire and appetite are at the root of the destruction taking place in Rome. At first glance, one
sees only the plebian mob being ruled by passion and standing ready to wreak havoc, but
growing evidence shows that the conspirators and the triumvirate are as passionate as the mob.
Despite the fact that Brutus tries to convince himself that he kills Caesar because of logic and
reason, he and the others are as much ruled by passion as anyone else. (For evidence of this, see
Act II, Scene 1, where their passion is externalized and presented to the audience as disturbances
in the natural world.) Brutus is unaware of his own emotional nature and denies it, thus losing its
potential power.
On the other hand, Antony is able to accept both sides of his nature and use them to his own
advantage. In this scene, his emotional nature can be sidelined when cruel, rational thought is
required. How else would he be able to discuss the murders of so many people, the betrayal of so
many promises, so easily? Thus Antony embodies both the problem and the solution. He is able
to understand and control passion. The Antony who likes drink and women, the Antony who
could weep with sincerity over Caesar's corpse, is best able, because of his emotional experience,
to take charge.
From Plato through to modern day, reason has been valued over emotional response.
Questioning and debating that belief was central to the audience's imagination in Shakespeare's
time. Shakespeare is telling his audience that it is possible to live a successful life by combining
the two, but also questions what that success entails. The triumvirs, particularly Antony, are
more "successful" than are the conspirators, as the audience sees in the next scene; however, this
success comes at the cost of cruelty, betrayal, and tyranny. Shakespeare is telling his audience
that there is a way to combine the two. It seems as though this group has managed it while the
conspirators, as the reader sees in the next scene, are losing control of their feelings. Brutus, in
particular, is unable to get a handle on fear, even paranoia. On the other hand, the coldness
expressed by Antony and ("He [Antony's nephew] shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him")
Octavius ("Your brother too must die"), and even by Lepidus' ("I do consent") to his own
brother's death, indicates the horror of men who have replaced their affective for effective sides.
The debate is a complex one and not yet complete.
Act IV: Scene 2
Outside of his tent at a camp near Sardis, Brutus greets Titinius and Pindarus, who bring him
word that Cassius is approaching. Brutus complains that Cassius has offended him, and he looks
forward to hearing Cassius' explanation. Pindarus, Cassius' servant, is certain that the explanation
will satisfy Brutus. Lucilius says that Cassius has received him with proper protocol, but he
qualifies his statement, adding that Cassius' greeting was not with his accustomed affection.

85. Brutus says that Lucilius has just described a cooling friendship and he suggests that Cassius
may fail them when put to the test. Cassius arrives then with most of his army and immediately
accuses Brutus of having wronged him. Brutus responds that he would not wrong a friend and
suggests that they converse inside his tent so that "both our armies" will not see them quarreling.
The two men then order their subordinates to lead off the armies and guard their privacy, and
they all exit.
Analysis
Just as powerful men have struggled for supreme power in the previous scene, here you see the
struggle of men as they fall out of love. (It is important to remember that when male
Shakespearean characters speak of love, they mean friendship.) Note the type of passionate
language used to describe how Brutus and Cassius feel. Brutus says, "Thou hast describ'd / A hot
friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius, / When love begins to sicken and decay / It useth an enforced
ceremony." In addition, the imagery of sickness and decay in this quote underscores the potential
destructiveness of emotion. The question of how to reconcile passion and reason — the mind and
the body — are ultimately unresolved.
Note that this scene stands in contrast to the previous scene, especially in the use of horse
imagery. In the previous scene, Antony speaks of Lepidus as a horse as a way of indicating the
latter's inferior position. Here, Brutus denounces Cassius as a hollow man, who like a horse "hot
at hand, / Make[s] gallant show and promise of [his] mettle." Antony's use of the imagery
indicates control; Brutus', a loss of control.
Act IV: Scene 3
As soon as the two men are within the tent, Cassius accuses Brutus of having wronged him by
condemning Lucius Pella for taking bribes from the Sardians, in spite of Cassius' letters in his
defense. Brutus replies that Cassius should not have written defending such a cause, and Brutus
charges him with having an "itching palm" — that is, Cassius has been selling offices. Brutus
reminds Cassius that it was for the sake of justice that they killed Caesar, and he says strongly
that he would "rather be a dog and bay the moon" than be a Roman who would sell his honor for
money. The quarrel grows in intensity as Cassius threatens Brutus, but Brutus ignores his threats.
Brutus reminds Cassius of his failure to send sums of gold that Brutus had requested for his
troops. Cassius denies this and laments that his friend no longer loves him; he invites Brutus to
kill him. Finally the two men are reconciled and they grasp one another's hands in renewed
friendship.
Brutus and Cassius drink together as Titinius and Messala join them. From the conversation that
follows, you discover that Octavius and Antony are marching with their armies toward Philippi
and that they "put to death an hundred senators," including Cicero. Messala also reports the death
of Portia, but Brutus stoically gives no indication that he already knows of her suicide. He
proposes that they march toward Philippi to meet the enemy at once. Cassius disagrees,
maintaining that it would be better to wait for the enemy to come to them. This strategy would
weary the enemy forces while their own men remain fresh. Brutus persists, however, and Cassius
at last gives in to him.
When his guests have departed, Brutus tells his servant Lucius to call some of his men to sleep
with him in his tent. Varro and Claudius enter and offer to stand watch while Brutus sleeps, but
he urges them to lie down and sleep as well. Brutus then asks Lucius to play some music. Lucius
sings briefly, then falls asleep. Brutus resumes reading a book he has begun, but he is suddenly

86. interrupted by the entry of Caesar's ghost. Brutus asks the ghost if it is "some god, some angel, or
some devil," and it says that it is "thy evil spirit." It has appeared only to say that they will meet
again at Philippi. The ghost then disappears, whereupon Brutus calls to Lucius, Varro, and
Claudius, all of whom he accuses of crying out in their sleep. They all swear that they have seen
and heard nothing.
Analysis
Portia is dead by her own hand. She's swallowed coals, a most painful — and some would say,
fitting — way of death. By her suicide she takes on the sins of the men and attempts to expiate
them; that is, in the manner of her suicide she, in metaphorical terms, internalizes the painful,
rash, hot decisions that have brought the state to civil unrest. But in doing so, she does not
contain and remove the difficulties facing Rome. She is ineffective, for this is not a play about
what a woman could do, but a play about men and men's affairs.
The news of her death to Brutus is delayed. For the first one hundred and forty-six lines of the
scene, the reader is unaware that Portia's death is probably the underlying motivation for Brutus'
passionate quarrel with Cassius. What is Shakespeare's purpose in delaying such news? Impact.
The sudden realization of what has happened gives Cassius and the audience a sudden insight
into Brutus: the action of the scene and its real motivations and the change in Brutus' and
Cassius' friendship. Moments of impact such as these offer a pause, a catching of breath that
reveals multitudes.
Note that the love that Brutus felt for Portia is transferred to the male, non-sexual sphere in his
friendship with Cassius. Loss and betrayal are essential elements of grief, but Brutus, unable to
speak these disloyal thoughts against his wife, transfers his feelings to Cassius. It is Cassius who
has betrayed him. It is Cassius who leaves him.
Having transferred his grief over Portia into a test of his friendship, Brutus feels that he can go
on with the military aspects of his life with stoicism, yet while the feminine is left behind (shown
by Brutus expelling the poet because his soft and rounded verses), Brutus still seeks and requires
comfort. By banishing thoughts of his wife, Brutus is left with his companions of war. He asks
his loyal men to stay with him and looks to Lucius for the calming and expressive quality of
music.
They all fall asleep, however, and leave Brutus to face the ghost of Caesar alone. It is not without
some irony that, at this point in the play, Shakespeare allows a male character to experience what
has so far been a woman's realm — a prophetic dream. Women, the civilizing influences of art
and intuition, have been banned from this world of masculine violence and disruption. In their
place, is a man who has put himself in an untenable position by trying to live by reason alone,
pushing emotion to one side.
The dream foreshadows — and Brutus realizes — that Brutus will die in the battles to come, and
that his death will not be the last. The events Brutus initiated with the murder of Caesar will
continue to result in more death.
Act V: Scene 1
On the plain of Philippi, Octavius and Antony, along with their forces, await Brutus, Cassius,
and their armies. A messenger arrives and warns Octavius and Antony that the enemy is
approaching. Antony orders Octavius to take the left side of the field, but Octavius insists upon
taking the right and Antony taking the left.

87. Brutus, Cassius, and their followers enter, and the opposing generals meet. The two sides
immediately hurl insults at one another: Antony accuses Brutus of hypocrisy in the assassination
and he derides the conspirators for the cowardly way that they killed Caesar. Cassius accuses
Antony of using deceit in his meeting with the conspirators following the assassination and he
reminds Brutus that they would not have to endure Antony's offensive language now had he died
alongside Caesar. Octavius suggests that they cease talking and begin fighting and boasts that he
will not sheath his sword until he has either revenged Caesar or has been killed by traitors.
Brutus denies being a traitor. Cassius calls Octavius a "peevish schoolboy" and Antony a
"masker and a reveller." Antony responds that Cassius is "old Cassius still," and Octavius
challenges Brutus and Cassius to fight now or whenever they muster the courage. Octavius,
Antony, and their armies exit.
Cassius has serious misgivings about the battle, and both he and Brutus worry that they will
never see each other again. They part poignantly with Cassius saying, "For ever, and for ever,
Brutus! / If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; / If not, @'tis true this parting was well made."
Analysis
It is fitting that a battle of words should open the final act of the play. The previous four acts
have been largely about words, persuasion, the (mis)use and (mis)interpretation of words, and
the power of language. It is no surprise, then, that a power struggle opens the scene as (the
younger) Octavius refuses to follow (the older) Antony's orders. The real battle of words,
however, occurs between the triumvirate and the conspirators. For example,
• "They . . . would have parley."
• "We must out and talk."
• "The generals would have some words."
• "Words before blows."
• "Not that we love words better."
• "Good words are better than bad strokes."
These passages are taken from just eight lines and are only a small sampling.
Why does Shakespeare so purposefully draw the reader's attention to language? He does so
because the question of language and its power were important issues in Elizabethan times.
During that period, the ultimate, the most authoritative Word was God's. Human use of language,
according to the Elizabethan way of thinking, derived from that authority and thus had within it
the potential for a tremendous power — one that human beings both desired and feared. The
characters and the action of this play express this desire and fear.
In Act V, by having the two opposing groups speak, Shakespeare tells his audience that, in fact,
it is too late for language. Language has already had its effect. It has precipitated violence and no
amount of desire for reconciliation (on Brutus' part) or accusation and insult meant to intimidate
will change anything. War must come.
Still, lest the readers be left with the impression that human use of language is inevitably all bad,
the scene finishes with the poignant parting of two friends, Cassius and Brutus, who know that
they risk never seeing each other again. Indeed, by the end of the scene, poignancy returns
language to its divine source. Brutus' musing on the end of the battle metaphorically evokes, in
this classical pre-Christian context, a desire to know the "end" of all things and the purpose of
life, and hints at the possibility of a Christian understanding of an end beyond this life. Brutus'

88. words return the audience to the Word, which in Elizabethan consciousness, informed any and
all contexts.
Act V: Scene 2
During the early course of the battle of Philippi, Brutus sends Messala with a message, urging
Cassius to engage the enemy forces at once. Brutus believes that the forces under Octavius,
which are positioned before him, are currently unspirited and vulnerable to attack.
Analysis
Brutus' actions in this scene embody both hope and the rashness born of having nothing more to
lose. It is a short scene, and the very quickness of its language is meant to heighten the tension of
the battle for the audience. Remember that in an Elizabethan theater, there was no scenery to
shift — the action was fast as actors left and came back on stage, sometimes in a matter of
seconds. Remember, also, that the battle, for the most part, takes place offstage. The important
action of this final act will lie in the fates of the characters, not in their swordplay.
Act V: Scene 3
On another part of the field, Cassius sees his men retreating; Brutus' forces, having driven back
those of Octavius, are foraging about the battlefield for spoils, leaving Antony's army free to
encircle Cassius' troops. Thus Cassius sends Titinius to ride toward the soldiers that he sees in
the distance and determine who they are, and he asks Pindarus to mount the hill and watch
Titinius. When Pindarus reports that he saw Titinius alight from his horse among soldiers who
were shouting with joy, Cassius mistakenly concludes that Titinius has been taken prisoner by
the enemy. He asks Pindarus to keep his oath of obedience and to stab him. Pindarus does so,
and Cassius dies, saying, "Caesar, thou art revenged, / Even with the sword that killed thee."
Titinius was not captured at all, but hailed by some of Brutus' troops when he arrived on
horseback. He now enters with Messala, hoping to comfort Cassius with the news that Octavius'
men have been overthrown by Brutus. They find Cassius' dead body. While Messala goes to
report his tragic discovery to Brutus, Titinius kills himself with Cassius' sword.
Brutus comes onstage with Messala, Young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius and finds the
bodies of Titinius and Cassius. To both of them, he pays a sad farewell, calling Cassius "the last
of all the Romans." The men leave for another encounter with the enemy.
Analysis
"Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing." If earlier scenes were about misuse and
misinterpretation of language, this is a scene about miscommunication. Cassius dies because
Pindarus misreads the battle and Cassius despairs — a despair that began in Scene 1. Cassius
grasps at Pindarus' words as justification for what he desires: death. Titinius and Messala believe
that Cassius killed himself because he lost faith in the rightness of their cause and in Brutus'
abilities. This interpretation of his death will be all the more hurtful to Brutus.
What is interesting to note is the way in which the audience's views of these two characters has
changed since the beginning of the play. Cassius was a dark manipulator of language. His
motives for killing Caesar were murky — the readers knew there was more to Cassius' intentions
than he admitted. He was emotionless, clinical, and detached; not a friend to Brutus, but a suitor
of his power and reputation. At the end, Cassius is prepared to show his great love for his friend
and, although this love is noble in itself, it diminishes him to some degree. Note that Cassius'

89. melancholy is the "mother" to his death. In contrast to Brutus' virility in the face of his great
friend's death, Cassius is less manly.
Brutus, who at the beginning of the play was passive and pursued by Cassius, is now a man of
action. In addition, any doubts that the audience may have had about Brutus' nobility are swept
aside by the sympathy gained for him through the powerful friendship he has developed with
Cassius.
Act V: Scene 4
On the battlefield, in the midst of fighting, Brutus enters with Young Cato, Lucilius, and others.
He urges them all to stand upright and brave. He exits, and Young Cato shouts his name and his
loyalty to Rome, although some texts credit these lines, showing this loyalty to Brutus and
Rome, to Lucilius. Young Cato is killed, and Lucilius is captured by Antony's soldiers who think
that he is Brutus. He is then left under guard as one of the soldiers runs to bring Antony to the
prisoner whom he believes to be Brutus. When Antony arrives and asks for Brutus, Lucilius tells
him that Brutus is alive and will never be taken prisoner. Antony sets guard over the loyal
Lucilius, and he sends his soldiers to search for Brutus and report to him later at Octavius' tent.
Analysis
The mistakes keep piling up. In this scene, Antony's soldiers mistake Lucilius for Brutus, the
former having taken on the latter's identity in order to protect him, hoping to convince the
soldiers that they have captured Brutus, and thus give up looking for him. Antony enters the
scene, however, tells the soldiers of their mistake, and robs Lucilius of a noble death.
Now that he is taken prisoner, and not killed, will Lucilius be as valuable a friend as Antony
suggests? Lucilius seems the least likely person to switch allegiances, and by the end of the play
there is no clear answer whether he will. Antony believes that soldiers will always choose what
is best for themselves without consideration for their principles and loyalty. This belief is an
indication of the type of ruler he will be — one who is willing to forget both principles and
loyalties. Yet Antony gives a glimpse of the decidedly unromantic realities of war. Loyalty lasts
as long as the battle, and when faced with the reality of life among the winners, one ought to
change sides. These are Antony's perceptions of reality (and are only partially right, as evidenced
in the final scene). In fact, his views indicate, to some degree, that when Antony and the
triumvirate rule — for they surely will — they will rule a world devoid of the nobility of men
like Brutus and Lucilius.
Act V: Scene 5
Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius enter. They are tired from battle, and Brutus
whispers a request first to Clitus and then to Dardanius; he wants one of the men to kill him.
They both refuse him. He tells Volumnius that Caesar's ghost appeared to him again; he knows
that it is time for him to die. Volumnius disagrees, but Brutus argues that the enemy has them
cornered, and he asks Volumnius to hold his sword while he runs onto it. Volumnius refuses,
believing it an improper act for a friend to perform. An alarm signals the approach of the enemy,
and Clitus warns Brutus to flee. Brutus wishes his comrades farewell, including Strato, who has
awakened from a quick nap; he repeats that it is time for him to die. Offstage shouts prompt him
to send his soldiers onward, and he and Strato remain alone. Strato agrees to hold Brutus' sword;
they shake hands, and Brutus runs onto the sword, killing himself.

90. Amid alarms signaling the rout of Brutus' army, Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and others
enter and come upon Strato with Brutus' body. Octavius offers to take into his service all who
have followed Brutus, and Antony delivers a brief and now-famous oration over the body of
Brutus beginning, "This was the noblest Roman of them all." Antony believes that all the other
conspirators attacked Caesar because of personal envy; Brutus alone did it because he believed
that it would be for the general good of Rome. Octavius promises an appropriate funeral for
Brutus and gives orders to stop the battle. Finally, he calls on his colleagues to join him in
celebrating their victory.
Analysis
At the opening of the scene, Brutus is frightened to state his wishes out loud — perhaps ashamed
to state his desire to die out loud because he is denying his lifetime philosophy, stoicism, which
precludes suicide. This shame would have been prevalent in an Elizabethan audience, to whom
the act of suicide would be abhorrent. Still, by running on his sword (note the difference between
his death and that of and Cassius, who has Pindarus run the sword through him), Brutus is heroic.
To Shakespeare's audience, he would have been a classical, sympathetic, tragic hero, ready to die
rather than be conquered. In addition, with a slight shift in perspective, he could also be a
Christian hero, sacrificing his life as a result of his decision to fight for the good of the people.
(Audiences in Shakespeare's time expected to be able to get more than one meaning from what
they saw in the theater and what they read on the page. It was part of the fun.)
In the final analysis, the narrative of both the Christian and the classical hero belong to Brutus
and they belong to him because it is "Brutus' tongue" that defines and tells the story. Even
though Antony and Octavius have the last word, their praises are, in fact, epilogue.
One addition: Note in Act V, Scene 5, the precariousness of the ending. Shakespeare's finales
almost always leave room for doubt, and this play is no exception. Caesar's reputation as a great
ruler may have been reclaimed, Cassius' cynical persuasion of the conspirators may have been
converted into a great and noble friendship with Brutus, and Brutus' faults may have been
glossed over, but despite all the changes effected in this drama, Julius Caesar ends as it began —
with an uncertain future.
Characters
Flavius and MarullusTribunes who wish to protect the plebeians from Caesar's tyranny; they
break up a crowd of commoners waiting to witness Caesar's triumph and are "put to silence"
during the feast of Lupercal for removing ornaments from Caesar's statues.
Julius Caesar A successful military leader who wants the crown of Rome. Unfortunately, he is
not the man he used to be and is imperious, easily flattered, and overly ambitious. He is
assassinated midway through the play; later, his spirit appears to Brutus at Sardis and also at
Philippi.
Casca Witness to Caesar's attempts to manipulate the people of Rome into offering him the
crown, he reports the failure to Brutus and Cassius. He joins the conspiracy the night before the
assassination and is the first conspirator to stab Caesar.
Calphurnia The wife of Julius Caesar; she urges him to stay at home on the day of the
assassination because of the unnatural events of the previous night as well her prophetic dream in
which Caesar's body is a fountain of blood.

91. Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony) He appears first as a confidant and a devoted follower of
Caesar, and he offers Caesar a crown during the feast of Lupercal. He has a reputation for
sensuous living, but he is also militarily accomplished, politically shrewd, and skilled at oration.
He is able to dupe Brutus into allowing him to speak at Caesar's funeral and by his funeral
oration to excite the crowd to rebellion. He is one of the triumvirs, and he and Octavius defeat
Brutus and Cassius at Philippi.
A soothsayer He warns Caesar during the celebration of the feast of Lupercal to "beware the
ides of March." He again warns Caesar as he enters the Senate House.
Marcus Brutus A praetor; that is, a judicial magistrate of Rome. He is widely admired for his
noble nature. He joins the conspiracy because he fears that Caesar will become a tyrant, but his
idealism causes him to make several poor judgements and impedes his ability to understand
those who are less scrupulous than he. Brutus defeats Octavius' forces in the first battle at
Philippi, but loses the second battle and commits suicide rather than be taken prisoner.
Cassius The brother-in-law of Brutus and an acute judge of human nature, Cassius organizes the
conspiracy against Caesar and recruits Brutus by passionate argument and by deviously placed,
forged letters. He argues that Antony should be assassinated along with Caesar, that Antony
should not speak at Caesar's funeral, and that he (Cassius) and Brutus should not fight at
Philippi, but he eventually defers to Brutus in each instance. He is defeated by Antony at the first
battle of Philippi, and he commits suicide when he mistakenly believes that Brutus has been
defeated.
Cicero A senator and a famous orator of Rome. He is calm and philosophical when he meets the
excited Casca during the night of portentous tumult proceeding the day of the assassination. The
triumvirs have him put to death.
Cinna The conspirator who urges Cassius to bring "noble" Brutus into the conspiracy; he assists
by placing some of Cassius' forged letters where Brutus will discover them.
Lucius Brutus' young servant; Brutus treats him with understanding, gentleness, and tolerance.
Decius Brutus The conspirator who persuades Caesar to attend the Senate on the day of the ides
of March by fabricating a flattering interpretation of Calphurnia's portentous dream and by
telling Caesar that the Senate intends to crown him king.
Metellus Cimber The conspirator who attracts Caesar's attention by requesting that his brother's
banishment be repealed, allowing the assassins to surround Caesar and thereby giving Casca the
opportunity to stab him from behind.
Trebonius The first of the conspirators to second Brutus' argument that Antony be spared,
Trebonius lures Antony out of the Senate House so that the other conspirators can kill Caesar
without having to fear Antony's intervention. Consequently, he is the only conspirator who does
not actually stab Caesar.
Portia The wife of Brutus and the daughter of Marcus Cato. She argues that those familial
relationships make her strong enough to conceal Brutus' secrets, but on the morning of the
assassination, she is extremely agitated by the fear that she will reveal what Brutus has told her.
She commits suicide when she realizes that her husband's fortunes are doomed.
Caius Ligarius No friend of Caesar's, he is inspired by Brutus' nobility to cast off his illness and
join the conspirators in the early morning of the ides of March.

92. Publius An elderly senator who arrives with the conspirators to escort Caesar to the Capitol. He
is stunned as he witnesses the assassination. Brutus sends him out to tell the citizens that no one
else will be harmed.
Artemidorus He gives Caesar a letter as the emperor enters the Capitol; in the letter, he lists the
conspirators by name and indicates that they intend to kill him, but Caesar does not read it.
Popilius Lena The senator who wishes Cassius well in his "enterprise" as Caesar enters the
Senate House. This comment intensifies the dramatic tension in the moments immediately prior
to the assassination by causing Cassius and Brutus to briefly fear that they have been betrayed.
Cinna the poet On his way to attend Caesar's funeral, he is caught up in the riot caused by
Antony's funeral oration. The mob at first confuses him with Cinna the conspirator, but even
after they discover their error, they kill him anyway "for his bad verses."
Octavius Caesar The adopted son and heir of Julius Caesar; he is one of the triumvirs who rule
following the death of Caesar. He and Antony lead the army that defeats Cassius and Brutus at
Philippi.
M. Aemilius Lepidus He joins Antony and Octavius to form the Second Triumvirate to rule the
Roman Empire following the assassination of Caesar. He is weak, and Antony uses him
essentially to run errands.
Lucilius The officer who impersonates Brutus at the second battle of Philippi and is captured by
Antony's soldiers. Antony admires his loyalty to Brutus and thus he protects him, hoping that
Lucilius will choose to serve him as loyally as he did Brutus.
Pindarus At Philippi, he erroneously tells his master, Cassius, that the scout Titinius has been
captured by the enemy when the scout has actually been greeted by the victorious forces of
Brutus. Thinking that all is lost, Cassius decides to die; he has Pindarus kill him with the same
sword that he used to help slay Caesar.
Titinius An officer in the army commanded by Cassius and Brutus, he guards the tent at Sardis
during the argument between the two generals, and is a scout at Philippi for Cassius. After
Cassius commits suicide when he mistakenly believes Titinius to have been taken prisoner by the
enemy, Titinius kills himself in emulation of Cassius.
Messala A soldier serving under Brutus and Cassius, Messala gives information concerning the
advance of the triumvirs, and he reports Portia's death to Brutus at Sardis. At Philippi, he hears
Cassius confess that he believes in omens. Later, he discovers Cassius' body.
Varro and Claudius Servants of Brutus, they spend the night in his tent at Sardis. Neither of
them observes the ghost of Caesar that appears to Brutus.
Young Cato The son of Marcus Cato, the brother of Portia, the brother-in-law of Brutus, and a
soldier in the army commanded by Brutus and Cassius. He dies during the second battle at
Philippi while trying to inspire the army by loudly proclaiming that he is the son of Marcus Cato
and that he is still fighting.
Clitus and Dardanius Servants of Brutus, they refuse their master's request at Philippi to kill
him.
Volumnius A friend of Brutus and a soldier under his command at Philippi. He refuses to hold a
sword for Brutus to impale himself on.

93. Strato The loyal servant who holds Brutus' sword so that he may commit suicide. Later, he
becomes a servant to Octavius.

John Webster (1580 –1634)
• An English Jacobean dramatist best known for his tragedies The White Devil and The
Duchess of Malfi, which are often regarded as masterpieces of the early 17th-century
English stage.
• His life and career overlapped William Shakespeare's.
• Webster's life is obscure, and his date-of-birth and death date are not known.
• Webster attended Merchant Taylors' School in Suffolk Lane, London.
• Webster married the 17-year-old Sara Peniall on 18 March 1606 at St Mary's Church,
Islington
• At the date of their marriage, Sara was seven months pregnant.
• Most of what is otherwise known of him relates to his theatrical activities.
• Webster was still writing plays as late as the mid-1620s, but Thomas
Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels (licensed 7 November 1634) speaks of him
in the past tense, implying he was then dead.

Early collaborations
• By 1602, Webster was working with teams of playwrights on history plays, most of
which were never printed. These included a tragedy Caesar's Fall (written with Michael
Drayton, Thomas Dekker, Thomas Middleton and Anthony Munday), and a collaboration
with Thomas Dekker Christmas Comes but Once a Year (1602).
• With Dekker he also wrote Sir Thomas Wyatt, which was printed in 1607, and probably
first performed in 1602. He worked with Thomas Dekker again on two city
comedies, Westward Ho in 1604 and Northward Ho in 1605.
• Also in 1604, he adapted John Marston's The Malcontent for staging by the King's Men.
The major tragedies
• Despite his ability to write comedy, Webster is best known for his two brooding English
tragedies based on Italian sources.
• The White Devil, a retelling of the intrigues involving Vittoria Accoramboni, an Italian
woman assassinated at the age of 28, was a failure when staged at the Red Bull Theatre in
1612 (published the same year), being too unusual and intellectual for its audience.

94. • The Duchess of Malfi, first performed by the King's Men about 1614 and published nine
years later, was more successful. He also wrote a play called Guise, based on French
history, of which little else is known as no text has survived.
Late plays
• Webster wrote one more play on his own: The Devil's Law Case (c. 1617–1619),
a tragicomedy.
• His later plays were collaborative city comedies: Anything for a Quiet Life (c. 1621),
co-written with Thomas Middleton, and A Cure for a Cuckold (c. 1624), co-written
with William Rowley.
• In 1624, he also co-wrote a topical play about a recent scandal, Keep the Widow
Waking (with John Ford, Rowley and Dekker).
• The play itself is lost, although its plot is known from a court case.
• He is believed to have contributed to the tragicomedy The Fair Maid of the
Inn with John Fletcher, Ford, andPhillip Massinger.
• His Appius and Virginia, probably written with Thomas Heywood, is of uncertain date.
Reputation
• Webster's major plays, The White Devil and The Duchess of Malfi, are macabre,
disturbing works that seem to prefigure the Gothic literature of the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries.
• Intricate, complex, subtle and learned, they are difficult but rewarding, and are still
frequently staged today.
• Webster has received a reputation for being the Elizabethan and Jacobean dramatist with
the most unsparingly dark vision of human nature.
• Even more than John Ford, whose' Tis Pity She's a Whore is also very bleak, Webster's
tragedies present a horrific vision of mankind.
• In his poem "Whispers of Immortality," T. S. Eliot memorably says that Webster always
saw "the skull beneath the skin".
• On the other hand, Webster's title character in The Duchess of Malfi is presented as a
figure of virtue by comparison to her malevolent brothers, and in facing death she
exemplifies classical Stoic courage.
• Her martyr-like death scene has been compared to that of the titular king in Christopher
Marlowe's play Edward II. Webster's use of a strong, virtuous woman as his central

95. character was rare for his time and represents a deliberate reworking of some of the
original historical event on which his play was based.
• The character of the duchess recalls the Victorian poet and essayist Algernon Charles
Swinburne's comment in A Study of Shakespeare that in tragedies such as King Lear
Shakespeare had shown such a bleak world as a foil or backdrop for virtuous heroines
such as Ophelia and Imogen, so that their characterization would not seem too incredible.
Swinburne describes such heroines as shining in the darkness.
• While Webster's drama was generally dismissed in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries, many twentieth century critics and theatregoers found The White Devil and The
Duchess of Malfi to be brilliant plays of great poetic quality and dark themes.
• One explanation for this change is that only after the horrors of war in the early twentieth
century could their desperate protagonists be portrayed on stage again, and understood.
• W. A. Edwards wrote of Webster's plays in Scrutiny II (1933–4): "Events are not within
control, nor are our human desires; let's snatch what comes and clutch it, fight our way
out of tight corners, and meet the end without squealing."
• The violence and pessimism of Webster's tragedies have seemed to some analysts close
to modern sensibilities.
The Duchess of Malfi
• The Duchess of Malfi (originally published as The Tragedy of the Dutchesse of Malfy)
is a macabre, tragic play written by the English dramatist John Webster in 1612–13.
• It was first performed privately at the Blackfriars Theatre, then before a more general
audience at The Globe, in 1613–14.
• Published in 1623, the play is loosely based on events that occurred between about 1508
and 1513.
• The Duchess was Giovanna d'Aragona, Duchess of Amalfi (d. 1511), whose father,
Enrico d'Aragona, Marquis of Gerace, was an illegitimate son of Ferdinand I of Naples.
As in the play, she secretly married Antonio Beccadelli di Bologna after the death of her
first husband Alfonso I Piccolomini, Duke of Amalfi.
• The play begins as a love story, with a Duchess who marries beneath her class, and ends
as a nightmarish tragedy as her two brothers exact their revenge, destroying themselves in
the process.
• Jacobean drama continued the trend of stage violence and horror set by Elizabethan
tragedy, under the influence of Seneca.

96. • The complexity of some of its characters, particularly Bosola and the Duchess, plus
Webster's poetic language, ensure the play is often considered among the greatest
tragedies of English renaissance drama.


Sources
• Webster's principal source was in William Painter's The Palace of Pleasure (1567), which
was a translation of François de Belleforest's French adaptation of Matteo Bandello's
Novelle (1554).
• Bandello had known Antonio Beccadelli di Bologna in Milan before his assassination. He
recounted the story of Antonio's secret marriage to Giovanna after death of her first husband,
stating that it brought down the wrath of her two brothers, one of whom, Luigi d'Aragona,
was a powerful cardinal under Pope Julius II. Bandello says that the brothers arranged the
kidnapping of the Duchess, her maid, and two of her three children by Antonio, all of whom
were then murdered. Antonio, unaware of their fate, escaped to Milan with his oldest son,
where he was later assassinated by a gang led by one Daniele Bozzolo.
• Webster's play follows this story fairly faithfully, but departs from the source material by
depicting Bozzolo as a conflicted figure who repents, kills Antonio by mistake, then turns on
the brothers killing them both.
[5]
In fact the brothers were never accused of the crime in their
lifetimes and died of natural causes.
SUMMARY
Act One, Scene One
• The plays opens in its primary setting, the "presence-chamber" of the Duchess's palace in
Malfi, Italy, in the sixteenth century.
• At the Duchess’s palace, Delio welcomes his friend Antonio home from a trip to France, and
asks him how he liked it there. Antonio admits his admiration for the French prince, who had
rooted out the sycophants and corrupt officials in order to prohibit corruption from spreading
through the rest of the country. Antonio hears Bosolo arriving with the Cardinal, and jokes to
Delio how Bosola rails against against vices only because he cannot afford to commit them
himself.
• As they enter, Bosola laments to the Cardinal how he (Bosola) has not been fairly rewarded
for a service he performed for the Cardinal and which cost him a prison sentence in the
galleys. In response, the Cardinal complains about Bosola’s dishonest character and leaves.
Bosola complains more to Antonio, describing how both the Cardinal and his brother, the
Amalfi duke Ferdinand, are corrupt and unjust for having treated him improperly.

97. Delio tells Antonio that Bosola served seven years in the galleys for having committed a
notorious murder, and the rumor was that the Cardinal did indeed commission him to do it.
Antonio says it’s too bad that the Cardinal won’t give him Bosola due, as this will likely “poison
all his goodness” (1.1.72).

Act One, Scene Two
• The second scene plays continuously, without any stage interruption.
• Delio reminds Antonio that the latter had promised to tell the former about the figures who
populate the Amalfi court, their personalities and moral characters. Antonio agrees, but they
are distracted by the entrance of several characters.
• Almost immediately, Ferdinand enters with Silvio, Castruccio, Roderigo, and Grisolan.
Ferdinand is informed that Antonio had won the most jousting contests and so rewards him,
lamenting that they can only play games instead of fighting in a real war. Castruccio tells him
he thinks it best for princes to send deputies to fight in their stead, since when rulers fight
themselves, it breeds discontent at home. Castruccio further insinuates that his wife had been
less than faithful while he was gone away, and Ferdinand continues to pun on his cuckoldry
throughout the conversation. They further discuss Roderigo’s new horse, and Ferdinand
compliments Antonio’s riding. The Cardinal enters with the Duchess and her lady, Cariola,
and the three distract all of the group save Antonio and Delio.
• In private, Antonio gives Delio a summary of the Cardinal and Ferdinand’s characters. He
says the Cardinal’s rumored bravery and light-heartedness is superficial, and that he is truly a
melancholy and corrupt man who will destroy anyone he is jealous of, so much so that he
tried to bribe his way to becoming pope. He says Ferdinand is never what he seems, has a
“perverse and turbulent nature,” (1.1.160), is vengeful, and uses the law to destroy people at
will and for his own gains.
• Lastly, he describes their sister, the Duchess, as a great conversationalist, a beautiful woman,
and a completely virtuous person. Delio accuses him of overstating her assets, but Antonio
responds, “All her particular worth grows to this sum:/She stains the time past: lights the time
to come--” (1.1.213-4). Cariola brings message to Antonio, to attend to the Duchess in half
an hour's time.
• Ferdinand asks the Duchess if she would take Bosola on as manager of her horses on his
recommendation, and she accepts. In private, the Cardinal then tells Ferdinand to use Bosola
as an informer as to their sister's behavior. When Ferdinand suggests they use Antonio
instead of Bosola, the Cardinal protests that Antonio is far too honest for such an assignment.
They see Bosola approaching, and the Cardinal leaves to avoid him.
• Ferdinand tells Bosola that the Cardinal doesn’t trust him. Bosola warns that to be distrusted
without cause can lead one to actually deceive. Changing the subject, Ferdinand offers him
gold to spy on the Duchess, explaining that she is recently widowed and they do not want her
to remarry; he does not give a reason for their concern. Bosola tries to return the money

98. because he does not want to be a spy, but Ferdinand tells him he has already arranged Bosola
the post of horse manager, and that to refuse would appear ungrateful. Bosola begrudgingly
accepts and leaves.
Act One, Scene Three
• The next scene has Ferdinand, the Duchess, Cardinal and Cariola on stage.
• The Cardinal and Ferdinand prepare to leave the Duchess, and tell her that in their absence,
she must be responsible for acting appropriately. They warn her not to be tempted by a man,
as it would be shameful for a widow to remarry. The Duchess protests that she has no
intention of marrying again, but they tell her that’s what widows always say before they
forget their vow and remarry anyway. After a few more warnings, they leave.
• The Duchess ponders to herself whether her brothers’ warnings should worry her, but decides
that she will conversely let her fear spur her into action. She tells her lady Cariola of her
intent, and insists that trusting Cariola with that secret is of greater value than trusting the
maid with her life. Cariola vows that she will guard the Duchess’s secret carefully. The
Duchess tells her to hide behind the arras where she can overhear the scene to follow.
Antonio enters to fulfill his appointment with the Duchess.
• The Duchess asks Antonio to take dictation of what she says--she wants to write her will.
They discuss the institution of marriage, and Antonio says that he thinks it is either heaven or
hell; there is no in between. Impressed, she gives Antonio her wedding ring by way of
proposal, insisting that her social status would prohibit him from wooing her, and so must
she woo him. He accepts, and then Cariola reveals herself. Because she has witnessed the
exchange, it is a binding ceremony.
• The Duchess excuses Cariola so she can retreat to her marriage bed with Antonio--she tells
him that he can lay a sword between them to keep them chaste if he likes, but she wishes to
discuss how to get her brothers to accept their marriage--”We’ll only lie, and talk together,
and plot/T’appease my humorous kindred” (1.1.570-1). When they leave together, Cariola
wonders aloud whether her mistress is taken with greatness or madness.
Act Two, Scene One
• The scene is set in an apartment in the Duchess's palace. It begins
withBosola and Castruccio enter.
• Bosola mocks Castruccio for being a fool and having unrealized ambitions of being a great
courtier. An Old Lady enters, and Bosola criticizes her ugliness and mocks her attempts to
mask it with makeup. She and Castruccio leave, and Bosola muses on his suspicions that the
Duchess is pregnant. He has bought the first apricots of the season, which he will use to try to
find out if she is indeed pregnant. The apricots were believed to induce labor.
• Delio and Antonio enter. Antonio has just told Delio of his secret marriage, and emphasizes
that Delio must never breath a word of it to anyone, after which insistence they join Bosola.
Antonio accuses Bosola of trying too hard not to appear “puffed up” (2.1.80-1) with his
promotion, and of continually putting forth a mean and melancholy appearance instead.

99. • The Duchess, out of breath, enters with her ladies, and asks Antonio if she has gotten fat.
Bosola offers her the apricots, and the Duchess eats them. She immediately says they have
made her ill and goes off to her bedroom. Antonio and Delio discuss how best to cover up
that she has gone into labor, and Delio recommends saying that Bosola has poisoned her with
the apricots.
Act Two, Scene Two
• In a different location, Bosola muses to himself that the Duchess’s reaction to the apricots
means she is almost certainly pregnant. The Old Lady enters in a rush, and after Bosola
berates her and women in general, she rushes off, presumably to act as midwife to the
Duchess.
• Antonio, Delio, Roderigo and Grisolan enter. Antonio tells them to shut and lock the court
gates, claiming some of the Duchess's jewels are missing. A group of gossipy servants enter,
and one reports a rumor that the Duchess has a Swiss mercenary in her bedroom with her.
Antonio reports that, due to the Duchess's illness and the theft of her jewels, she would like
all the officers to lock themselves in their rooms and send her keys to their chests and doors.
They agree, and everyone leaves except Antonio and Delio.
• Antonio tells Delio to go to Rome to keep watch over the Duchess’s brothers. Though he
trusts Delio, he is fearful, and Delio tells him it is just superstition and “Old friends (like old
swords) still are trusted best.” (2.2.87). He leaves.
• Cariola enters carrying the new baby, a son, and the new father rejoices.
Act Two, Scene Three
• Outside the palace that night, Bosola enters with a lantern. He thinks he heard a woman
shriek from the direction of the Duchess’s chambers, and is made more suspicious by
Antonio's order to confine the officers to their rooms.
• Antonio enters with a candle and his sword drawn, having heard someone. When he realizes
it is Bosola, he asks if he heard a noise from the Duchess’s chamber. Bosola denies hearing
anything, and offers that he is ignoring the curfew order solely because he wanted to pray in
peace.
• Antonio claims he is calculating a horoscope to figure out who stole the jewels, and tells
Bosola that he is the main suspect, as his apricots seem to have poisoned the Duchess at the
same time that her jewels went missing. Bosola denies his guilt, and insults Antonio.
• Antonio gets a sudden nose bleed, which is considered a bad omen. He tells Bosola not to
pass the Duchess’s chambers on his way back to his room and leaves. Bosola finds a piece of
paper Antonio dropped, which contains the infant’s horoscope--it warns of a short life and
violent death. Bosola knows now that the Duchess has had a child and that Antonio is in her
confidence, but he doesn’t realize Antonio is the father. He plans to send a letter to the
brothers in Rome in the morning.

100. Act Two, Scene Four
• At the Cardinal’s palace in Rome, Julia, the Cardinal’s mistress and Castruccio’s wife,
explains how she convinced her husband to let her go to Rome without him. Julia worries
about the Cardinal’s constancy, but he dismisses her concern as evidence of her own guilt
over her infidelity. A servant enters to tell Julia that someone carrying post from Malfi
desires to see her.
• Delio, one of her former suitors, enters, and offers Julia money as a favor. Another servant
enters to tell Julia that her husband is in Rome and has delivered a letter to Ferdinand that has
left him in a foul mood. After the servant leaves, Delio asks Julia to be his mistress. She says
she will ask her husband—he doesn’t know if she’s joking or not--and leaves. Delio fears
Castruccio’s delivery of bad news to Ferdinand means that Antonio and the Duchess have
been found out.
Act Two, Scene Five
• In a different location in the Roman palace, Ferdinand, carrying a letter, tells the Cardinal the
news of the Duchess—he knows only that she is pregnant, not that she is married. He
confesses that the knowledge has made him crazy. The two men rue her wantonness and the
infidelity of women in general, but the Cardinal keeps his cool, while chiding Ferdinand for
his extreme emotional reactions. Ferdinand threatens everyone—the Duchess, the unknown
father, the child, even himself and the Cardinal—and then retires, saying he won’t take any
action until he figures out who the father is.
Act Three, Scene One
• Act Three begins some time later.
• At the Duchess’s palace, Delio has very recently returned from Rome
with Ferdinand. Antonio tells Delio that since he left, the Duchess has had two more
children. Delio asks if the brothers know about this yet, and Antonio says that he fears they
do, because Ferdinand has been behaving suspiciously since his arrival in Malfi. Delio asks
what the common people in Malfi know, and Antonio says they call the Duchess a strumpet,
but no one has any idea that they are married.
• Ferdinand, the Duchess, and Bosola enter. Ferdinand tells the Duchess that he has found a
husband for her, Count Malateste. The Duchess protests and asks to address the rumors about
her honor, but Ferdinand insists, “Let me be ever deaf to’it” (3.1.58), and that even if such
rumors were true, his powerful love for her could forgive her anything.
• Everyone leaves except Ferdinand and Bosola, and Ferdinand asks Bosola what he has
uncovered. Bosola shares the rumor that the Duchess has birthed three bastards, but that he
has no idea who the father is. Bosola thinks a man unworthy of her has used magic to seduce
her, but Ferdinand will have none of it, saying that no herbs or potions can force the will.
• Bosola has purloined a key to the Duchess’s bedroom for Ferdinand, and though the latter
accepts it, he will not tell Bosola what he intends to do with it. He says that anyone who can
predict his behavior would have to know everything, but Bosola tells him he is
overestimating himself. Ferdinand is pleased that Bosola speaks honestly instead of flattering
him.

101. Act Three, Scene Two
• In the Duchess’s bedroom, she tells Antonio he can’t sleep in her bed this night, but Antonio
says he must, and they tease each other good-naturedly. Antonio teases Cariola about being
single, and then they leave the Duchess alone so she can prepare for bed.
• The Duchess muses to herself how she would expect Antonio to avoid her bed while
Ferdinand was in the palace, but she imagines Antonio’s response would be that “love mixed
with fear is sweetest” (3.2.66). While she soliloquizes, Ferdinand sneaks in. When she
notices him, he hands her a knife for her to kill herself with.
• She tells him that she is married, and he warns her that he doesn’t want to know who the
husband is because it would lead to such violence as would destroy them both, and he warns
the Duchess that she must do everything she can—including cutting out her own tongue—to
make sure Ferdinand never discovers his identity.
• The Duchess protests that she has done nothing wrong—she is not the only widow to
remarry, and she remains pure. Ferdinand tells her that once gone, a good reputation can
never be regained, and since she has lost hers, he will never see her again.
• He leaves, and Antonio and Cariola return, Antonio carrying a gun. Antonio suspects that
Cariola let Ferdinand into the room, and threatens her with the gun, but the Duchess tells him
he came in through the gallery and gave her a knife, presumably for her to kill herself with.
Bosola knocks at the door and Antonio exits before they let him in.
• Bosola reports that Ferdinand has left for Rome, and asks the Duchess why she seems upset.
She makes up a story about Antonio falsifying her accounts, a lie that will force him to flee
Malfi and hence escape potential harm. She tells Bosola to get her officers to arrest Antonio,
and Bosala leaves.
• Antonio returns, and the Duchess tells him of her plan. She demands he flee to Ancona,
where she will send her treasure to him. When Bosola returns with the officers, the Duchess
berates Antonio, but tells them to let him go freely, as she doesn’t want the public to find out
about his crimes and blame her. She banishes him, and he leaves.
• The Duchess asks for the officers’ opinions of Antonio, and they complain of his tight-fisted
behavior towards them. When they leave, Bosola says they were flattering parasites to
Antonio when he was doing well, and tells the Duchess that she has made a big mistake and
treated the honest and virtuous Antonio unfairly. He speaks at length about Antonio's virtue,
until the Duchess, moved to trust him, admits that he is her husband.
• Bosola declares himself impressed that she would marry him for his virtues in spite of his
lack of rank. The Duchess, comforted, asks him to help keep her secret, and to take her
money to Antonio in Ancona where she will meet them in a few days. The Duchess and
Cariola exit, leaving Bosola alone to lament that he must tell all to Ferdinand, although he
looks forward to the promotion he will receive for doing so.

102. Act Three, Scene Three
• Scene Three is again set in the Cardinal's palace at Rome.
• Count Malateste is showing the Cardinal plans for a new fortification at Naples, when
Ferdinand enters with Delio, Silvio, and Pescara. Delio and Silvio explain to Ferdinand that
Malateste is a soldier only in name—he avoids any real battles and only studies theories of
war without actually engaging. They mock the care he takes with his mistress’s scarf.
• Bosola arrives and speaks to Ferdinand and the Cardinal privately, while the others discuss
what his presence there could mean. They note that Ferdinand and the Cardinal both look
furious in reaction to whatever Bosola is telling them.
• Ferdinand and the Cardinal are especially distressed that the Duchess is escaping to meet
Antonio by pretending to be on a pilgrimage, which Cariola had warned her against. The
Cardinal says he’ll have them banished from Ancona immediately, and Ferdinand orders
Bosola to tell the Duchess’s son from her previous marriage—who is not mentioned
anywhere else in the play—the news. Ferdinand makes plans to intercept her.
Act Three, Scene Four
• Scene Four is set at the Shrine of Our Lady of Loretto. Here, the Cardinal gives up his
cardinal’s hat in a ceremony so that he can fight as a soldier. Antonio, the Duchess, and their
children arrive, and are banished from Ancona. This all happens in pantomime while the
churchmen sing a solemn song. They all exit except for two pilgrims, who discuss what
happened and explain that the Pope, spurred by the Cardinal, took the Duchess’s dukedom
from her.
Act Three, Scene Five
• Scene Five takes place nearby Loretto, following the banishment.
• The Duchess and Antonio mourn their current state to Cariola, their children, and their last
remaining servants. Bosola brings them a letter from Ferdinand, which asks for Antonio to be
sent to him, using double-talk so as to threaten his murder while pretending to offer amity.
The Duchess sees through his “riddles” (3.5.41) easily, and so Antonio refuses to go. Bosola
scorns his refusal and leaves.
• The Duchess, fearful of an ambush, pleads for Antonio to take their oldest son to Milan. He
accepts, and they all say their farewells. After Antonio and the older son leave, Bosola and a
troop of armed men approach to apprehend the Duchess and her remaining family. Bosola
entreats her to forget her lowly husband, but she says that a man’s actions, not his rank, are
what matter. She and her family are taken back to her palace as prisoners.
Act Four, Scene One
• Act Four begins back in Malfi, at the Duchess's palace.
• Bosola tells Ferdinand that the Duchess is bearing her imprisonment nobly. Ferdinand is
dissatisfied and leaves, and the Duchess enters. Bosola tells her that Ferdinand has come to

103. visit her, but does not want to go against the vow he made to never see her again, so entreats
her not to have any light in her room tonight so he can address her. She agrees, and Bosola
walks away with the lights.
• Ferdinand enters in the dark, and tells the Duchess that she has his pardon. He gives her a
dead man's severed hand wearing her wedding ring on one of its fingers, hoping that because
it is dark, she will believe it to be Antonio's. However, she assumes it is Ferdinand’s and
wonders why he is so cold. Ferdinand exits and Bosola brings up the light, and she sees what
she holds. Bosola then pulls back a curtain, revealing the corpses of Antonio and their
children. He says that Ferdinand wants her to see them so that she will stop grieving for
them.
• The Duchess believes him, and asks to be bound to Antonio’s lifeless body and left to die
there. Bosola tells her to forget her sorrow--now that everything is at its worst, it can only get
better--but she ignores him. She continues to mourn and finally asks Bosola to tell her
brothers to come and kill her, and not prolong her torture.
• She exits and Ferdinand enters, telling Bosola that the bodies are only wax figures and they
have accomplished his goal--”to bring her to despair” (4.1.116). Bosola entreats him to stop
torturing her and to simply send her to a convent, but Ferdinand wants her to go completely
mad. He further insists he will have madmen placed near her chamber so that the sounds of
their torture will rankle her. Bosola says in that case, he would prefer to never see her again,
but Ferdinand says he must, so Bosola insists he will not do so as Ferdinand’s spy. Ferdinand
sends him to Milan, where Antonio waits.
Act Four, Scene Two
• Cariola explains to the Duchess that the noises they hear are coming from the madmen that
Ferdinand has placed all around her prison. The Duchess tells her that it is actually
comforting—silence is worse—and that though she is in despair, she remains sane.
• A servant enters to explain that Ferdinand has sent her several madmen to try to cure her
sadness by making her laugh at them, a trick that previously worked on the Pope. The servant
tells her about each one, and then brings them in. They sing, dance, and act crazy. The
madmen include: the Mad Astronomer, who lost his mind when his prediction of the
apocalypse proved incorrect; the Mad Doctor, who lost his mind due to jealousy; the Mad
Priest; and the Mad Lawyer. Bosola, disguised like an old man, enters last, after which the
madmen leave.
• Bosola, whom she does not recognize, tells the Duchess that he has come to design her tomb.
She protests that she isn’t ill, and that she is still Duchess of Malfi, and he tells her that such
glories mean nothing up close. The executioners enter with a coffin, cords, and a bell, and
Bosola tells her this is her present from her brothers.
• Cariola wants to call for help, but the only ones that might hear her are the nearby madmen.
Bosola order the executioners to shut her up, and Cariola says she wants to die with the
Duchess. She is taken off stage. Bosola tells the Duchess she will die by strangulation, and is
surprised that she is not afraid, but rather ancticipates meeting her family (who she does not
know are still alive) in the afterlife.
• The executioners strangle her, and Bosola tells them to next kill Cariola and the children.
Cariola demands to know what crime she has committed to deserve death, and Bosola tells

104. her she is being punished for keeping the Duchess’s marriage a secret. She protests as they
try to kill her, saying she is engaged, she hasn’t been to confession, and she is pregnant, but
they kill her anyway.
• Ferdinand enters, and Bosola shows him the dead bodies. Ferdinand is unmoved by the
corpses of the children, but cries at the sight of the Duchess, and berates Bosola for following
his orders and not taking her away to safety or defending her from Ferdinand. Ferdinand
admits he was hoping she wouldn’t remarry so that he could inherit her fortune, which is why
her marriage so incensed him.
• Bosola, seeing Ferdinand is quickly turning against him, asks for his reward. Ferdinand
refuses to give him anything beyond pardoning him for the murder. Bosola insists he be paid,
but Ferdinand tells him to banish himself from Ferdinand’s sight forever. Ferdinand, showing
signs of his coming madness, says he is leaving to hunt badger, and exits.
• Bosola is greatly distressed, seeing that he has done all this evil for no reward. He notices the
Duchess is still alive, but fears calling for help since Ferdinand might still be within range.
She says, “Antonio,” (4.2.42), and Bosola quickly tells her that he is alive and has been
pardoned, not dead as she believed, and then she dies. He confesses in a soliloquy that he
feels repentant, and wonders how he can make amends or gain revenge.
Act Five, Scene One
• Act Five begins in a public place in Milan.
• Delio counsels Antonio that the proffered peace from the Cardinal andFerdinand is likely to
be a trap. When the Marquis of Pescaraapproaches, Antonio hides and Delio asks to be
granted some of the land that had been seized from Antonio. Pescara denies his request,
and Julia approaches with a letter from the Cardinal, asking for the same land. Pescara grants
it to her, and when Delio confronts him about his refusal, Pescara tells him that he wouldn’t
want to give land taken from someone in such a shameful way to a friend—Delio—but as
Julia is a strumpet, it’s good enough for her.
• Pescara says that Ferdinand has come to Milan and is rumored to be sick or crazy. He leaves
to visit him. Antonio comes out from hiding and tells Delio he plans to visit the Cardinal in
his bedroom tonight to either reconcile, or face his punishment and get it over with.
Act Five, Scene Two
• Scene Two is set in the residence of the Cardinal and Ferdinand.
• Ferdinand’s doctor tells Pescara that Ferdinand is suffering from lycanthropia--he believes
himself to be a wolf, and goes to dig up bodies in graveyards at night. He’s been doing better
since the doctor started treating him, but the doctor fears a relapse.
• Ferdinand enters with Malateste and the Cardinal, and Bosola enters separately. Ferdinand
asks to be alone, and then proceeds to attack his own shadow. The doctor tries to intimidate
Ferdinand so that he’ll follow his orders, but it doesn’t work and Ferdinand leaves, followed
by the doctor.

105. • Pescara asks the Cardinal how Ferdinand came to this state, and the Cardinal makes up a
story about Ferdinand seeing a ghost, which started his loss of sanity. Everyone leaves except
Bosola and the Cardinal, who doesn’t want Bosola to know he was involved in planning the
Duchess’s death, so he pretends to not know she is dead. He tells Bosola that if he finds and
kills Antonio, the Cardinal will give him whatever advancement he desires.
• Right after the Cardinal leaves, Julia enters with a gun, threatening to kill Bosola so that her
obsessive love for him will end—which she believes he caused with a love potion. Bosola
denies having given her anything, and they embrace. Bosola asks her to prove her love for
him by finding out what’s wrong with the Cardinal, and she agrees, telling him to hide and
she’ll do it right away.
• Bosola hides and the Cardinal enters with his servants. He says, aside, that he is wearying of
Julia and wants to get rid of her any way he can. She asks him what’s bothering him, and
though at first he refuses to tell, finally he confesses to having engineered his sister's death.
He makes her swear to keep his secret by kissing on a bible, but he has poisoned it and she
dies almost immediately.
• Bosola reveals himself to ask for his reward for killing the Duchess, since Ferdinand is too
crazy to give it. The Cardinal tells him he will have it once he kills Antonio, which Bosola
agrees to do. The Cardinal gives him a key so he can come after dark to help him remove
Julia’s body. The Cardinal leaves, and Bosola reveals that he will search out Antonio to
protect him, or to offer to join him in avenging the Duchess’s murder.
Act Five, Scene Three
• Delio and Antonio are near the Cardinal’s palace, discussing the haunting echo that comes
from the Duchess’s tomb. Antonio is particularly haunted by it, as it does indeed seem to
repeat snippets of his speech that have agency and meaning. Delio tries to convince Antonio
not to go to the Cardinal’s chamber, but Antonio says he would rather die than continue to
half-live.
Act Five, Scene Four
• Scene Four returns to the residence of the Cardinal and Ferdinand.
• The Cardinal, Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo, and Grisolan enter. The Cardinal tells them not
to stay with Ferdinand tonight because having people around makes him worse, although in
reality he simply wants to ensure that no one is around when he gets rid of Julia’s body. He
further tells them of a plan to imitate Ferdinand's insanity in an attempt to get his confidence,
and so they should ignore any extreme sounds or cries they might hear. They swear they
won’t go to Ferdinand no matter what they hear from his room. Everyone leaves except the
Cardinal. He confesses to himself a plan to kill Bosola as soon as Bosola has killed Antonio
and removed Julia's body.
• The Cardinal exits, and Bosola enters, having overheard the Cardinal’s plan to kill him.
Ferdinand enters, speaking of strangling, which Bosola assumes is about him. Antonio and a
servant follow, and Bosola, frightened and not realizing who it is, stabs Antonio fatally.

106. Before he dies, Bosola tells Antonio what happened to his family. Bosola is devastated by his
mistake, and tells the servant to take Antonio’s body to Julia’s room.
Act Five, Scene Five
• The final scene is set in a different chamber in the same Milan residence.
• The Cardinal enters, debating to himself the nature of hell and wondering aloud "how tedious
is a guilty conscience!" (5.5.4). Bosola enters, followed by a servant who carries Antonio's
body. Bosola tells the Cardinal that he has come to kill him, and though the Cardinal first
tries to call for help, then to bribe Bosola to let him live, but Bosola is determined. Above,
Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo, and Grisolan hear the Cardinal’s cries for help, but they think
he is testing them as he told them he might, so they don’t go to him, except for Pescara, who
thinks he sounds truly in trouble. The others follow because they want to see Pescara
humiliated.
• Bosola tells the Cardinal that he is going to kill him to avenge the Duchess and Antonio’s
deaths, and then stabs him. The Cardinal continues to call for help. Ferdinand comes in and,
not understanding the situation, wounds the Cardinal further, after which he stabs Bosola.
Bosola kills Ferdinand.
• Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo, and Grisolan enter. Bosola explains why he has killed
Ferdinand and the Cardinal, but the Cardinal blames Ferdinand for their sister's death before
he dies. Bosola explains that he killed Antonio accidentally, and then he too dies. Delio
enters with the eldest son of Antonio and the Duchess's marriage, the sole survivor of the
family, and the men pledge to help give him a good life to honor his mother and father.


CHARACTERS
• Bosola
Bosola is the tool through which the Cardinal and Ferdinand perpetrate most of their evil
in The Duchess of Malfi. He is hired by Ferdinand to spy on the Duchess, for whom he
serves as manager of her horses. He is an enigmatic figure, willing to murder for hire
without hesitation, while initially reluctant to the commit to the seemingly less extreme
vice of spying.
• As his deeds lead to worse and worse consequences--the banishment of the Duchess and
her family, the murder of the Duchess and her children, Antonio’s accidental death--he
shows more and more remorse for his actions. It is only when Ferdinand and the Cardinal
refuse to reward him for all he has done, though, that he stops blindly following their
orders, and avenges the Duchess and Antonio by murdering the Cardinal and Ferdinand.
• The Duchess
At the opening of the play, the Duchess of Malfi, sister to the Cardinal and twin sister to
Ferdinand, has just been widowed in her youth. Though she promises her domineering
brothers that she won’t remarry, she almost immediately proposes to Antonio, a decision

107. that ultimately leads to the destruction of her entire family, save their oldest son. The
Duchess is strong-willed, brave, passionate, proud, and a loving wife and mother. In the
opening of the play, Antonio speaks of her incredible virtue, and though she marries him
against custom and her brothers’ wishes, her goodness and vitality stand in stark contrast
to her brothers’ evil.
• Ferdinand
The Duke of Calabria and the Duchess’s twin brother, Ferdinand boasts an impressive
collection of vices: he has a terrible temper, is greedy, is lustful, and has an unhealthy
obsession with his sister. He is powerful and corrupt, but as his anger over the Duchess’s
actions grows, he becomes more and more deranged. Once Bosola has, under his orders,
killed the Duchess and two of her children, he immediately feels deep regret and then
loses his mind completely. In the play, Ferdinand is often associated with fire imagery,
and represents violent, choleric evil.
• The Cardinal
The Duchess and Ferdinand’s older brother, the Cardinal of Aragon represents cold and
calculated evil in contrast to his hot-tempered brother. He is a Machiavellian character,
using the power of his position to torture and counter the Duchess. Ultimately, though, he
loses his ability to control events, a situation Bosola exploits to kill him.
• Antonio
Antonio Bologna is the steward of the Duchess’s household. She falls in love with him
and they secretly wed, managing to keep this hidden from her brothers and Bosola.
Antonio is an honest man, a good horseman, a good judge of character, and a loving
husband and father, but he is also passive and largely ineffectual in a crisis, ultimately
unable to protect his family from harm. He is also rather unremarkable when compared to
the impressive Duchess.
• Delio
Delio is Antonio’s friend and the only one besides Cariola who is initially trusted with
the secret of the Duchess’s marriage to Antonio. He remains a faithful friend to the
family through the end of the play. He also has a history with Julia, which he’d like to
continue.
• Cariola
Cariola is the Duchess’s maid and confidant. She is the witness to the Duchess’s marriage
to Antonio, and thus the first to know about it. She keeps the secret faithfully, and in the
end is killed by Bosola for doing so.
• Julia
Julia is the Cardinal’s mistress and Castruccio’s wife. She is also wooed by Delio and
later falls in love with Bosola. Bosola uses her as an unwitting tool to force a confession
for the Duchess's death from the Cardinal, after which the Cardinal poisons her.
• The Children
The Duchess and Antonio’s three children never speak in the play, but are on stage in
multiple scenes. The two youngest are viciously murdered by Bosola’s men, while the
oldest, in spite of his dire horoscope, is the only member of the family to survive, and
symbolizes a hopeful future at the play's end.

108. • Count Malateste
Malateste is known for presenting himself as a soldier but avoiding any battles, and thus
is scorned as a coward. Ferdinand recommends him to the Duchess as a suitable husband,
but she scorns the idea.
• Marquis of Pescara
The Marquis of Pescara is a soldier, and the only courtier save Antonio and Delio who
acts with any real honor. When Bosola attacks the Cardinal, he is the only lord to answer
the cries for help, even at risk of being mocked for it.
• Castruccio
Castruccio is a courtier under Ferdinand, and Julia’s older husband. He represents the
cuckolded fool.
• Silvio
Silvio is a courtier under Ferdinand.
• Roderigo
Roderigo is a courtier under Ferdinand.
• Grisolan
Grisolan is a courtier under Ferdinand.
• Old Lady
The Old Lady, a midwife, is ridiculed by Bosola at length for wearing makeup to try to
cover what he perceives as her hideousness.
• Doctor
The Doctor diagnoses and tries to treat Ferdinand’s lycanthropia. His primary method of
treatment is to make Ferdinand frightened of him.
• Two Pilgrims
As the Cardinal enacts the ceremony that results in the Duchess's exile from Ancona, the
two pilgrims watch the ceremony and provide commentary.
• Mad Astrologer
Sent to the Duchess during her imprisonment, the Mad Astrologer lost his mind when
they day he had predicted for the apocalypse came and went without incident.
• Mad Doctor
Sent to the Duchess during her imprisonment, the Mad Doctor lost his mind due to
jealousy.
• Mad Priest
The Mad Priest is sent to the Duchess during her imprisonment to try to drive her crazy.
• Mad Lawyer
The Mad Lawyer is sent to the Duchess during her imprisonment to try to drive her crazy.
The Real Duchess of Malfi
• The Duchess of Malfi is based on the true story of Giovanna d’Aragona and her brothers
Lodovico d’Aragona, Cardinal of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, and Carlo d’Aragona, Marquis
of Gerace. Gionvanna was married in 1490 when she was about twelve years old. Her
husband became Duke of Amalfi in 1493 and died in 1498.
• Giovanna ruled as Duchess and at some point secretly marriedAntonio Bologna, the master
of her household. They had three children and managed to keep this secret from her brothers
until at least 1509, and probably until closer to November 1510, when she took a sudden

109. pilgrimage to Loreto. It became clear that this was only a pretext for escape when she
continued to Ancona to meet Antonio.
• In 1513, Duchess and her two youngest children were probably murdered in Malfi, and soon
afterwards, Antonio was killed in Milan. Their oldest child survived. There is no historical
evidence that the Duchess’s brothers were involved in these killings, but there is evidence the
Duchess had long feared their retribution. Lodovico d’Aragona continued to enjoy power and
success as cardinal, and died in Rome in 1519.
• This is essentially all that lies in the historical record, and Webster probably used literary
sources, likely including the firsthand account in Bandello’s novella Il Signor Antonio
Bologna Sposa la Duchessa d’Amalfi, e Tutti due Sono Ammazzati, which told the story in
more, likely fictionalized, detail that largely matches the plot points in Webster's play.
Ultimately, what has made this play timeless is as much the author's pervasive worldview
and unflinchingly grotesque theatricality as much as its plot, suggesting that like his
contemporary Shakespeare, the source was but the starting point for a larger contemplation of
human nature.




William Congreve (1670 – 1729)
• An English playwright and poet.
• Congreve was born in Bardsey, West Yorkshire, England .
• Congreve was educated at Kilkenny College where he met Jonathan Swift, who would be his
friend for the remainder of his life; and at Trinity College in Dublin.
• Upon graduation, he matriculated in the Middle Temple in London to study law, but felt
himself pulled toward literature, drama, and the fashionable life.
• Artistically, he became a disciple of John Dryden.
Literary career
• William Congreve wrote some of the most popular English plays of the Restoration period of
the late 17th century. By the age of thirty, he had written four comedies, including Love for
Love (premiered 30 April 1695) and The Way of the World (premiered 1700), and one
tragedy, The Mourning Bride (1697)
• His career as a playwright was brief. Five plays authored from 1693 to 1700 would prove the
entirety of his output, as public tastes turned away from the sort of high-brow sexual comedy
of manners in which he specialized.
• He reportedly was particularly stung by a critique written by Jeremy Collier (A Short View
of the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage), to the point that he wrote a long
reply, "Amendments of Mr. Collier's False and Imperfect Citations."
• A member of the Whig Kit-Kat Club, Congreve's career shifted to the political sector, where
he held various minor political positions in spite of being a Whig among Tories.

110. Later life
• Congreve withdrew from the theatre and lived the rest of his life on residuals from his early
work.
• His output from 1700 was restricted to the occasional poem and some translation
(notably Molière's Monsieur de Pourceaugnac).
• Congreve never married; in his own era and through subsequent generations, he was famous
for his friendships with prominent actresses and noblewomen.
• As early as 1710, he suffered both from gout and from cataracts on his eyes. Congreve
suffered a carriage accident in late September 1728, from which he never recovered (having
probably received an internal injury); he died in London in January 1729, and was buried
in Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey.
Famous lines
• Two of Congreve's turns of phrase from The Mourning Bride (1697) have become famous,
albeit frequently in misquotation, and often misattributed to William Shakespeare:
• "Music has charms to soothe a savage breast," which is the first line of the play, spoken by
Almeria in Act I, Scene 1. This is often misquoted as "Music has charms to soothe the savage
beast".
• "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,"
spoken by Zara in Act III, Scene VIII.[2] (This is usually paraphrased as "Hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned")
• Congreve coined another famous phrase in Love for Love (1695):
• "O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell."
Comedy of manners
• The comedy of manners is an entertainment form which satirizes the manners and
affectations of a social class or of multiple classes, often represented by stereotypical stock
characters.
• For example, the miles gloriosus ("boastful soldier") in ancient times, the fop and
the rake during the English Restoration, or an old person pretending to be young.Restoration
comedy is used as a synonym for "comedy of manners".
• The plot of the comedy, often concerned with scandal, is generally less important than its
witty dialogue. A great writer of comedies of manners was Oscar Wilde, his most famous
play being The Importance of Being Earnest.
• The comedy of manners was first developed in the new comedy of the Ancient
Greek playwright Menander. His style, elaborate plots, and stock characters were imitated by
the Roman playwrights Plautus and Terence, whose comedies were widely known and
copied during the Renaissance.
• The best-known comedies of manners, however, may well be those of
the French playwright Molière, who satirized the hypocrisy and pretension of the ancien
régime in such plays as L'École des femmes (The School for Wives, 1662), Le
Misanthrope (The Misanthrope, 1666), and most famously Tartuffe (1664).

111. Early examples
• The comedy of manners has been employed by Roman satirists since as early as the first
century BC. Horace's Satire 1.9 is a prominent example, in which the persona is unable to
express his wish for his companion to leave, but instead subtly implies so through wit.
• William Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing might be considered the first comedy of
manners In England, but the genre really flourished during the Restoration period.
• Restoration comedy, which was influenced by Ben Jonson's comedy of humours, made fun
of affected wit and acquired follies of the time.
• The masterpieces of the genre were the plays of William Wycherley (The Country Wife,
1675) and William Congreve (The Way of the World, 1700). In the late 18th century Oliver
Goldsmith (She Stoops to Conquer, 1773) and Richard Brinsley Sheridan (The Rivals,
1775; The School for Scandal, 1777) revived the form.
• The tradition of elaborate, artificial plotting and epigrammatic dialogue was carried on by the
Irish playwright Oscar Wilde in Lady Windermere's Fan (1892) and The Importance of
Being Earnest (1895).
• In the 20th century, the comedy of manners reappeared in the plays of the British
dramatists Noël Coward (Hay Fever, 1925) and Somerset Maughamand the novels of P.G.
Wodehouse, as well as various British sitcoms. The Carry On films are a direct descendant of
the comedy of manners style.
Twentieth-century examples
• The term comedy of menace, which British drama critic Irving Wardle based on the
subtitle of The Lunatic View: A Comedy of Menace (1958), by David Campton, is a
jocular play-on-words derived from the "comedy of manners"
(menace being manners pronounced with a somewhat Judeo-English accent).
• Pinter's play The Homecoming has been described as a mid-twentieth-century "comedy
of manners".
• In Boston Marriage (1999), David Mamet chronicles a sexual relationship between two
women, one of whom has her eye on yet another young woman (who never appears, but
who is the target of a seduction scheme).
• Periodically, the two women make their serving woman the butt of haughty jokes,
serving to point up the satire on class. Though displaying the verbal dexterity one
associates with both the playwright and the genre, the patina of wit occasionally erupts
into shocking crudity.
• Other contemporary examples include Douglas Carter Beane's As Bees in Honey
Drown, The Country Club, The Little Dog Laughed, and the "Jeeves and Wooster" series
by P.G. Wodehouse. The television program Absolutely Fabulous is another
contemporary example of the comedy of manners.
Plays by Oscar wilde
• The Old Bachelor (1693)
• The Double Dealer (1694)
• Love for Love (1695)

112. • The Mourning Bride (1697)
• The Way of the World (1700)
The Way of the World (1700)
• The Way of the World is a play written by the English playwright William Congreve.
• It premiered in early March 1700 in the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields in London.
• It is widely regarded as one of the best Restoration comedies and is still occasionally
performed. At the time, however, the play struck many audience members as continuing
the immorality of the previous decades, and it was not well received.
Characters
• The play is centred on the two lovers Mirabell and Millamant.
• In order for them to marry and receive Millamant's full dowry, Mirabell must receive the
blessing of Millamant's aunt, Lady Wishfort.
• Unfortunately, Lady Wishfort is a very bitter lady who despises Mirabell and wants her
own nephew, Sir Wilfull, to wed Millamant.
• Another character, Fainall, is having a secret affair with Mrs. Marwood, a friend of Mrs.
Fainall's, who in turn once had an affair with Mirabell.
• In the meantime, Mirabell's servant is married to Foible, Lady Wishfort's servant.
Waitwell pretends to be Sir Rowland and, on Mirabell's command, tries to trick Lady
Wishfort into a false engagement.
Epigraph of the 1700 edition
• The epigraph found on the title page of the 1700 edition of The Way of the
World contains two Latin quotations from Horace's Satires. In their wider contexts they
read in English:
• "It is worthwhile, for those of you who wish adulterers no success, to hear how much
misfortune they suffer, and how often their pleasure is marred by pain and, though rarely
achieved, even then fraught with danger."
• "I have no fear in her company that a husband may rush back from the country, the door
burst open, the dog bark, the house shake with the din, the woman, deathly pale, leap
from her bed, her complicit maid shriek, she fearing for her limbs, her guilty mistress for
her dowry and I for myself."
• The quotations offer a forewarning of the chaos to ensue from both infidelity and
deception.
Historical context
• In 1700, the world of London theatre-going had changed significantly from the days of,
for example, The Country Wife. Charles II was no longer on the throne, and the jubilant
court that revelled in its licentiousness and opulence had been replaced by the far more
dour and utilitarian Dutch-inspired court of William of Orange. His wife, Mary II, was,
long before her death, a retiring person who did not appear much in public.

113. • William himself was a military king who was reported to be hostile to drama. The
political instabilities that had been beneath the surface of many Restoration comedies
were still present, but with a different side seeming victorious.
• One of the features of a Restoration comedy is the opposition of the witty and courtly
(and Cavalier) rake and the dull-witted man of business or the country bumpkin, who is
understood to be not only unsophisticated but often (as, for instance, in the very popular
plays of Aphra Behn in the 1670s) either Puritan or another form of dissenter.
• In 1685, the courtly and Cavalier side was in power, and Restoration comedies belittled
the bland and foolish losers of the Restoration. However, by 1700, the other side was
ascendant. Therefore, The Way of the World's recreation of the older Restoration
comedy's patterns is only one of the things that made the play unusual.
• The 1688 revolution concerning the overthrow of James II created a new set of social
codes primarily amongst the bourgeoisie. The new capitalist system meant an increasing
emphasis on property and property law.
• Thus, the play is packed with legal jargon and financial and marital contracts. These new
legal aspects allow characters like Mrs. Fainall to secure her freedom through
an equitable trust and for Mirabell and Millamant's marriage to be equal though
a prenuptial agreement.
• This shift in social perspectives is perhaps best shown in the characters of Fainall and
Mirabell, who represent respectively the old form and new form of marital relations:
sexual power at first and then developing into material power.
Several aspects of the play give rise to critical discussion:
• The love expressed in the play tends to be centred on material gain rather than the love of
the partner. This can be seen in the scene where Millamant and Mirabell effectively carry
out a pre-nuptial agreement, Millamant insisting on having all manner of liberties and
powers, quite unusual for the time.
• None of the characters in the play can really be seen as 'good', and as such it is difficult to
find a hero or heroine, or indeed anybody whom one would find deserving of sympathy.
• Although often regarded as a satire on the lives of the idle-classes in 1700, it is worth
considering that the play itself might simply be constructed from this.
Summary
Dedication
• In this dedication, as in most others of the period, we may ignore the rather fulsome
praise of the man to whom it was addressed; that praise is a convention of the time.
• Some of the comments made in the letter, however, are of interest. Congreve was
obviously chagrined at the play's lukewarm reception and attributed it to the coarse taste
of the audience.
• The playgoers were accustomed to plays where "the characters meant to be ridiculed"
were "fools so gross" that "instead of moving our mirth, they ought very often to excite
our compassion."

114. • Congreve's description of his own purpose when creating comic characters is revealing:
"to design some characters which should appear ridiculous, not so much through a natural
folly . . . as through an affected wit . . . which . . . is also false." This statement has often
been considered the basic definition of characterization in the "Comedy of Manners," a
genre where "affectation" is the great fault. Unfortunately, Congreve continues, many
people could not distinguish between "a Witwoud and a Truewit."
• Not all of the comic characters in The Way of the World are "affectations," for Congreve
included some that were created as "humours." He is here making the point that he is
avoiding the extremes of farce, what we might call slapstick, in this comedy.
Characters
Mirabell A young man-about-town, in love with Millamant.
Millamant A young, very charming lady, in love with, and loved by, Mirabell. She is the ward
of Lady Wishfort because she is the niece of Lady Wishfort's long-dead husband. She is a first
cousin of Mrs. Fainall.
Fainall A man-about-town. He and Mirabell know each other well, as people do who move in
the same circles. However, they do not really like each other. Fainall married his wife for her
money.
Mrs. Fainall Wife of Fainall and daughter of Lady Wishfort. She was a wealthy young widow
when she married Fainall. She is Millamant's cousin and was Mirabell's mistress, presumably
after her first husband died.
Mrs. Marwood Fainall's mistress. It does appear, however, that she was, and perhaps still is, in
love with Mirabell. This love is not returned.
Young Witwoud A fop. He came to London from the country to study law but apparently found
the life of the fashionable man-about-town more pleasant. He has pretensions to being a wit. He
courts Millamant, but not seriously; she is merely the fashionable belle of the moment.
Petulant A young fop, a friend of Witwoud's. His name is indicative of his character.
Lady Wishfor t A vain woman, fifty-five years old, who still has pretensions to beauty. She is
the mother of Mrs. Fainall and the guardian of Millamant. She is herself in love with Mirabell,
although she is now spiteful because he offended her vanity.
Sir Wilfull Witwoud The elder brother of Young Witwoud, he is forty years old and is planning
the grand tour of Europe that was usually made by young men to complete their education. He is
Lady Wishfort's nephew, a distant, non-blood relative of Millamant's, and Lady Wishfort's
choice as a suitor for Millamant's hand.
Waitwell Mirabell's valet. At the beginning of the play, he has just been married to Foible, Lady
Wishfort's maid. He masquerades as Sir Rowland, Mirabell's nonexistent uncle, and woos Lady
Wishfort.
Foible Lady Wishfort's maid, married to Waitwell.
Mincing Millamant's maid.
Peg A maid in Lady Wishfort's house.

115. Prologue
• The Prologue was a conventional requirement for all plays. This one was delivered by the
sixty-five-year-old Betterton, the grand old man of the Restoration stage. Congreve did
not keep the promises he made in this prologue:
• He swears he'll not resent one hissed-off scene,
Nor, like those peevish wits, his play maintain,
Who, to assert their sense, your taste arraign.
• The dedicatory letter indicates that he did arraign the taste of his audience because it did
not approve his play (although his scenes were not hissed).
• His statement about what is in his play has more value: "some plot," "some new thought,"
"some humor too," but "no farce," the absence of which, he adds, ironically, would
presumably be a fault. The fact that he describes his play as having no farce indicates that
he planned the Wilfull-Witwoud scenes and the Lady Wishfort scenes as less broadly
burlesqued than some of his contemporaries might have wished.
• The statements that there is no satire because the town is so reformed and that there are
surely no knaves or fools in his audience are, of course, ironic.
Act I
• The curtain rises as Mirabell is defeated by Fainall in a desultory card game at the
chocolate-house. The conversation reveals that Mirabell is in love with Millamant but is
intensely disliked by Millamant's guardian. Lady Wishfort's dislike seems to have some
justification: Mirabell at one time pretended to court her in order to conceal his love for
her niece. She is fifty-five years old, and her vanity was offended when she discovered
that Mirabell did not love her.
• When Fainall leaves for a moment, a servant enters and informs Mirabell that his valet
married that day. Mirabell is pleased because his marriage is a necessary prelude to some
secret scheme — which is not revealed. Witwoud and Petulant then enter, and we gain
the additional information that Witwoud's elder brother is coming to town to court
Millamant. Witwoud and Petulant are also both courting Millamant but only because she
is the currently reigning belle. There is further talk of an uncle of Mirabell's who is
coming to court Lady Wishfort. The men leave for a walk in the park.
Act II
• In St. James' Park, Mrs. Fainall and Mrs. Marwood discuss their favorite subjects, men
and how to manipulate them. Beneath their apparent friendliness, they are wary of each
other as they talk of Mirabell. Mrs. Fainall suspects, quite correctly, that Mrs. Marwood
is in love with him.
• After Fainall and Mirabell enter, Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall stroll off and leave Fainall
and Mrs. Marwood alone on the stage. We now discover that Mrs. Marwood is Fainall's
mistress and that he only married his wife for her fortune so as to finance his amour.
However, their love includes neither faith nor trust. Fainall is sensitive to the fact that
Mrs. Marwood's seeming enmity of Mirabell covers her attraction for him. The scene

116. ends with mutual recrimination and a reconciliation as they leave the stage when Mirabell
and Mrs. Fainall return.
• The conversation of Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall supplies new revelations. Mirabell and
Mrs. Fainall were lovers; she married Fainall as a cover for her affair with Mirabell.
Mirabell, during their stroll, has told her of his scheme to trick Lady Wishfort and marry
Millamant. As he does not trust Waitwell, he arranged for a marriage between Waitwell
and Foible, Lady Wishfort's maid. (The news of this marriage arrived in the first act.)
After all, having wooed and won Lady Wishfort, Waitwell might plan on actually
marrying her.
• Millamant now makes her first entrance, accompanied by Witwoud and her maid,
Mincing. She is thoroughly aware of her own charm and her power over Mirabell, and
toys with Mirabell's love at the same time that she returns it. She is apparently quite
prepared to go along with Mirabell's plot, which Foible has revealed to her, a clear
indication that in the end she intends to have Mirabell.
• After her exit, Waitwell and Foible appear. Waitwell will woo Lady Wishfort in the guise
of Sir Rowland, Mirabell's imaginary uncle. As Sir Rowland, he would be a fine match;
in addition, the marriage would serve Lady Wishfort as a way to be revenged on Mirabell
for his earlier slight, for presumably Mirabell would be disinherited when Sir Rowland
married. All exit, with Waitwell making wry, typically Restoration comments.
Act III
• At her home, Lady Wishfort is trying to hide the signs of age with cosmetics applied
externally and brandy internally. Mrs. Marwood enters and tells her that Foible was
talking to Mirabell in the park. While Mrs. Marwood hides in a closet, Lady Wishfort
taxes Foible with disloyalty. However, Foible takes advantage of this opportunity to
forward Mirabell's plot; she says he stopped her only to insult Lady Wishfort, who
therefore determines to accept Sir Rowland, due to arrive that day.
• Unfortunately, after Lady Wishfort leaves, Mrs. Fainall enters, and she and Foible discuss
Mirabell's scheme; Mrs. Marwood, still hidden, overhears their conversation. They also
mention that Mrs. Fainall was Mirabell's mistress at one time, and that Mrs. Marwood is
in love with Mirabell, but he finds her unattractive. Mrs. Marwood's anger is reinforced
in the next scene when Millamant also accuses her of loving Mirabell and makes biting
remarks about her age.
• When the guests arrive for dinner, Petulant and young Witwoud, and then Sir Wilfull
Witwoud, the elder brother and Millamant's suitor, appear. In a scene that perhaps comes
closer to farce than any other in this play, Sir Wilfull does not recognize his foppish
brother, and young Witwoud refuses to recognize his country-bumpkin elder brother.
Afterward, Mrs. Marwood, left alone with Fainall, describes Mirabell's plot. He is certain
now that he has been a cuckold and wants revenge.
• Mrs. Marwood then outlines a plan for Fainall. Since Lady Wishfort has control of
Millamant's fortune, and since she is very fond of her daughter, Mrs. Fainall, he can insist
that Millamant's money be made over to him on threat of making public his wife's
transgressions.

117. Act IV
• After Lady Wishfort is seen preparing for the visit of Sir Rowland, Millamant and Sir
Wilfull are onstage together. Sir Wilfull, somewhat drunk but very shy, is too bashful
actually to complete his proposal to Millamant. Overawed by the aloof lady, he is eager
to get away and grateful when she dismisses him. It is obvious that he will not succeed,
but he is likable in his embarrassment.
• Immediately after occurs the scene between Millamant and Mirabell that is often called
the proviso scene. They discuss the conditions under which he is prepared to marry her
and under which she is prepared to accept him. At the end of the scene, when Mrs.
Fainall enters, Millamant admits that she does love him violently. As Mirabell leaves, the
company — Sir Wilfull, young Witwoud, and Petulant — come in from dinner. They are
all drunk — Sir Wilfull the drunkest of the three. Now the spurious Sir Rowland arrives
to woo Lady Wishfort, and his wooing bids fair to be successful when a letter is brought
from Mrs. Marwood in which she tells Lady Wishfort of the plot. However, Waitwell and
Foible between them manage to convince Lady Wishfort that the letter is actually sent by
Mirabell and is designed as a plot against Sir Rowland. Apparently Lady Wishfort is
convinced, at least for the moment.
Act V
• The scene, as before, is Lady Wishfort's house. Lady Wishfort has discovered Mirabell's
plot. Foible tries unsuccessfully to make excuses for herself.
• Fainall now makes his demands. As Millamant's fortune of 6,000 pounds was presumably
forfeit when she refused to marry a suitor selected for her by Lady Wishfort, he wants the
money as his price for not blackening his wife's reputation. He also wants the remainder
of Mrs. Fainall's fortune turned over to his sole control. And he insists on Lady Wishfort's
not marrying again so that he be sole heir. These terms are very harsh, and Lady Wishfort
might not be prepared to go along with them except that Mrs. Marwood, standing by,
goads her on by harping on the public disgrace of her daughter, Mrs. Fainall.
• When the two maids now reveal that Fainall, in his turn, has been unfaithful to his wife,
he refuses to be deterred; he is willing to be the subject of scandal himself, but he will
still make public his wife's shame. When Millamant states that she is prepared to marry
Sir Wilfull, thus meeting the wishes of her aunt and saving her 6,000 pounds, Fainall
suspects a trick, but he can still demand control of the balance of his wife's estate, and
now also the control of Lady Wishfort's. At this point, Mirabell presents the evidence
which will protect Mrs. Fainall. At the time of her marriage, they had judged Fainall's
character correctly, and Mrs. Fainall secretly signed over her fortune to Mirabell's
control. There is, therefore, no money which Fainall can successfully obtain.
• In great anger, Fainall and Mrs. Marwood leave the stage, vowing dire vengeance. Lady
Wishfort, having discovered that Fainall was a villain and that Mrs. Marwood, her friend,
was not a true friend, is now prepared to forgive Mirabell; Millamant can now marry him
with her aunt's consent. It is on this happy but somewhat indeterminate note that the plays
ends.

118. Epilogue
• Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle, who played Millamant, the epilogue only makes
conventional points: the essential inadequacy of critics who decry plays without
knowledge, and the statement that the characters are fictitious, and no individual is
represented; the satire is universal, for
• So poets oft do in one piece expose
Whole belles assemblees of coquettes and beaux.

Quotes
“But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our
youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as
preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.”
“One no more owes one's beauty to a lover than one's wit to an echo”
“True, 'tis an unhappy circumstance of life that love should ever die before us, and that the
man so often should outlive the lover. But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never
to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life
because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old,
because we one day must be old. For my part, my youth may wear and waste, but it shall
never rust in my possession.”
“Of those few fools, who with ill stars are curst,
Sure scribbling fools, called poets, fare the worst:
For they're a sort of fools which fortune makes,
And, after she has made them fools, forsakes.
Poets are bubbles, by the town drawn in,
Suffered at first some trifling stakes to win:
But what unequal hazards do they run!
Each time they write they venture all they've won:
Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816)
• Irish Playwright born in Dublin; both parents were writers of some repute
• His grandfather Thomas Sheridan had been a companion and confidant of Jonathan Swift
• Father- actor-manager Thomas Sheridan, mother- Frances Sheridan, novelist and
playwright
• Following his move to England, Sheridan’s father gave up acting and wrote many works
on the standardization of English language in education
• Early education- at Harrow public school; no university education
• Came to Bath with his father who started an institute of elocution and grammar there in
1770

119. • At Bath he got involved with Elizabeth Linley, a singer and ran away with her
• On returning home Sheridan had to fight two duels with Thomas Mathews, a suitor to
Elizebath (seriously wounded in the second one)
• After recovering he was sent to study law at Waltham Abbey
• In 1773 Sheridan married Elizabeth Linley
• The principal manager of Covent Garden Theatre, Thomas Harris encouraged him to
write plays
• First play- The Rivals- performed in 1775
• Success of dramatic works enabled him to buy a share in Drury Lane Theatre. The
theatre continued under his control until it was burnt to the ground in 1809, being then
rebuilt only after Sheridan assured that he would have nothing further to do with its
management
• While watching the theatre being burned down, Sheridan was famously reported to have
said, "A man may surely be allowed to take a glass of wine by his own fireside."
• The play that helped Sheridan to make a lot of money-The School for Scandal
• Sheridan’s dramatic career came to an end in 1779
• In 1780, he became an M. P. representing Whig party from Stafford, Westminster and
Ilchester
• Took a famous role in the impeachment of Warren Hastings in 1788-94
• As a parliamentary speaker he rivaled Edmund Burke and was close with Prince Regent
• In later years his fame and wealth degenerated owing to his reckless life- wife died in
1792- in 1795 married Esther Ogle, an extravagant girl- excluded from the management
of Drury Lane Theatre in 1809- lost M. P. seat- lost the friendship of Prince Regent
• On hearing of his debts, the American Congress offered Sheridan £20,000 in recognition
of his efforts to prevent the American War of Independence. The offer was refused
• Death- in 1816 and buried in Poet’s corner in Westminster Abbey
• Sheridan made a strong impression on the poet Lord Byron, who wrote a Monody on the
Death of the Right Honourable R.B. Sheridan (1816), to be spoken at the rebuilt Drury
Lane Theatre.

120. • Sheridan’s comedies are neoclassical in nature and spirit and his plays are often
compared to that of Moliere’s (esp. The School for Scandal)
• In 1825 Irish writer Thomas Moore published his biography titled as Memoirs of the Life
of Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Literary Works
• The Rivals (1775)
• Became successful after revising
• St. Patrick’s Day / The Scheming Lieutenant (1775)- a farce
• The Duenna (1775)
• a comic opera for which his father-in-law Thomas Linley composed the music
• a big success
• A Trip to Scarborough (1777)
• A reworking of Vanbrugh’s play The Relapse
• The School for Scandal (1777)
• The Camp; A Musical Entertainment (1778)
• Written with assistance from John Burgoyne and David Garrick
• Set against the background of an ongoing threat of a French invasion of Britain
• The Critic (1779)
• Last successful play by Sheridan
• A reworking of the restoration play The Rehearsal by George Villiers,Duke of
Buckingham
• The character Sir Fretful Plagiary includes a parody of a fellow playwright
Richard Cumberland
• Pizarro (1779)
• Adaptation of a grotesque melodrama based on a German play
• The Glorious First of June (1794)

121. • depicts the Glorious First of June, a British naval victory over the French in 1 June
of 1794
• The profits were donated to the families of those killed in the battle
• Clio's Protest (written 1771, published 1819)



The School ForScandal (1777)
This play earned Sheridan the title of “the modern Congreve.”
Type of Work and First Performance: The School for Scandal is a comedy of manners, a play
satirizing the behavior and customs of upper classes through witty dialogue and an intricate plot
with comic situations that expose characters' shortcomings. Characters generally consist of stock
types—such as the bore, the flirt, the gossip, the wastrel, the rich uncle, etc.—rather than
individuals with unique qualities. Comedies of manners in Sheridan's time typically avoided the
romantic sentimentality that characterized many other stage dramas of the 18
th
century. In this
play, author satirizes malicious gossip and hypocrisy in the fashionable society of London in the
1770s. The play was first performed in London on May 8, 1777, in Drury Lane Theatre.
Setting: The action takes place in London in the 1770s.
Characters
Charles Surface: Young bachelor notorious for his extravagance and dissipation. However, his
dissolute behavior may only be a passing phase. At heart, he is a good and generous person. He
and Maria are in love.
Joseph Surface: Young bachelor who pretends to be an honorable gentlemen but is really a
double-dealing scoundrel. He is the older brother of Charles. Joseph is in love with the fortune
Maria is to receive. He plots with Lady Sneerwell to break up Charles and Maria. Meanwhile, he
attempts to seduce Lady Teazle.
Maria: Wealthy young ward of Sir Peter. She is a woman of principle who refuses to gossip.
Sir Peter Teazle: Upright gentleman of about age 50 who has recently married a young woman.
Fooled by Joseph Surface's pretensions, he promotes a marriage between Joseph and Maria.
Lady Teazle: Young wife of Sir Peter. She and her husband have their little spats. When he
visits Joseph Surface one day, he discovers his wife hiding behind a screen and at first thinks she
has been having an affair with Joseph, whom he now brands as a villain.
Lady Sneerwell: Young widow of a knight. She is attracted to Charles Surface and plots with
Joseph Surface to break up Charles and Maria.
Snake: Cat's paw of Lady Sneerwell. He spreads false rumors to help her to achieve her goals.
Sir Oliver Surface: Wealthy uncle of Charles and Joseph Surface. After returning to England
from the East Indies, he disguises himself to find out the truth about his nephews.

122. Mrs. Candour: Prolific gossip who says how wrong it is to spread rumors, then indulges in her
favorite pastime—spreading rumors.
Sir Benjamin Backbite: Annoying young man who pursues Maria and engages in slanderous
conversation.
Old Crabtree: Backbite's uncle and a tale-bearer.
Rowley: Helpful servant and friend of Sir Peter and a former servant of the father of the Surface
brothers. He is an upright fellow who sees through Joseph's hypocrisy. Aware of Snake's
nefarious behavior, he pays him to reveal that the stories he has been spreading for Lady
Sneerwell and Joseph are lies.
Careless and Sir Harry Bumper: Friends of Charles Surface.
Trip: Servant of Charles Surface.
William: Servant of Joseph Surface.
Moses: Moneylender who assists Sir Oliver in his scheme to find out the truth about Charles and
Joseph Surface.
Mr. Stanley: Dublin merchant who was ruined by business reversals. He is related to Charles
and Joseph Surface, to whom he wrote for financial assistance. Sir Oliver assumes Stanley's
identity when he is investigating his nephews.
Mr. Premium: A former brokerin the pretenses of whom Sir Oliver approaches Charles. It is to
Premium that Charles sells his family portraits
Gentlemen, Maid, Servants
Tribute to Mrs. CrewePreceding the prologue is a tribute to Mrs. John Crewe, a beautiful
woman who was a friend of Sheridan. The tribute, written by Sheridan, is entitled A Portrait
Addressed to Mrs. Crewe, With the Comedy of the School for Scandal. The tribute says that
she is of such exemplary character and grace—possessing “all of bright or fair that can to woman
fall”—that even the gossips who are the subject of the play can do nothing but praise her. In this
tribute Sheridan calls Mrs. Crew as Amoret.
PrologueFollowing the tribute to Mrs. Crewe is a prologue written by David Garrick (1717-
1779), a prominent actor and co-manager of Drury Lane Theatre, where the play opened on May
8, 1777. The Prologue is spoken by Mr. King who played the role of Sir Peter. The prologue
discusses the difficulty of preventing people from spreading scandal via tongue or written word.
The prologue says, “Cut scandal's head off, still the tongue is wagging.”

Plot Summary
Seated at a dressing table in her London home is Lady Sneerwell, a widow who enjoys spreading
gossip. With her is Snake, a man who does her dirty work. He is updating her on the status of a
rumor he is sowing about Lady Brittle and Captain Boastall. Within twenty-four hours, Snake
says, the rumor will reach Mrs. Clackit, a formidable scandalmonger who has caused numerous
breakups, disinheritances, elopements, and divorces. Once her tongue begins to wag, Lady
Brittle and Boastall will be the talk of the town.
However, Mrs. Clackit lacks “that delicacy of tint—and mellowness of sneer—which distinguish
your Ladyship's scandal,” Snakes says. Lady Sneerwell accepts the compliment with false

123. modesty and then observes that she truly enjoys ruining reputations. It is a kind of therapy for the
slander she says she endured early in her life. Turning to another matter, Snake asks why she
wishes to break up the amorous relationship between Charles Surface and Maria, the ward of the
wealthy Sir Peter Teazle. Charles has a tainted reputation as a gambler and rake. On the other
hand, his brother Joseph has a sterling reputation. Rather than wasting her time driving a wedge
between Charles and Maria, Snake says, she ought to be trying to snare Joseph.
Lady Sneerwell then informs Snake that she has no interest in Joseph—nor he in her. She fancies
Charles, and Joseph wants Maria. But it is not love that motivates him; rather, it is the large
inheritance she will one day receive. Consequently, says Lady Sneerwell, Joseph “has been
obliged to mask his pretensions, and profit by my assistance.” Sir Peter is under the impression
that Joseph is an honorable man who loves Maria.To break up Charles and Maria, Lady
Sneerwell and Joseph (with Snake's help) are spreading rumors that Charles is having an affair
with Lady Teazle, the young wife of Sir Peter. Joseph himself then enters and tells Lady
Sneerwell that their rumors are beginning to have an effect on Maria and that Charles's
“dissipation and extravagance exceed anything I have heard of.”
Moments later, Maria enters. She complains that the annoying Sir Benjamin Backbite and his
uncle, Crabtree, have just called at the home of her guardian, Sir Peter. To avoid them, she
sneaked out to seek refuge with Lady Sneerwell. A servant then announces the arrival of Mrs.
Candour. She tells Maria that she was sorry to hear stories about trouble between her and Charles
and between Sir Peter and Lady Teazle. In reality, Mrs. Candour is only too happy to have
something to gossip about.
Crabtree then comes in with his nephew, Backbite, and brags up the young man as a great wit
and poet who wrote a commendable epigram the previous week on “Lady Frizzle's feather
catching fire.” Crabtree then reports that Sir Oliver Surface, the uncle of Charles and Joseph
Surface, is returning to England from the East Indies after sixteen years. How sad it will be for
him, Crabtree says, to learn what a good-for-nothing Charles is. Sir Oliver is wealthy, and his
nephews stand to benefit from his fortune—if they measure up.
Meanwhile, at Sir Peter's home, Sir Peter is upset with his young wife, who is about half his age.
In a short soliloquy, he describes himself as “an old bachelor” who was made a happy man when
the young woman married him. Now, however, “her part in all the extravagant fopperies of the
fashion and the town” greatly vex him. His servant Rowley then enters. He once was a steward
to the father of Charles and Joseph Surface. After Mr. Surface died, Rowley entered Sir Peter's
service. Sir Peter moans to Rowley about his wife's “teasing temper,” then complains that she
refuses the attentions of Joseph but welcomes those of her “profligate brother,” Charles. Rowley
defends Charles as a worthy gentleman who will eventually reform.
After Sir Oliver arrives in London, he visits his old friend, Sir Peter, in the latter's home and
congratulates him on his marriage. When they discuss Sir Oliver's nephews, Sir Peter notes that
“everyone speaks well of Joseph” but that no one speaks well of Charles.“He is a lost young
man,” Sir Peter says.
If everyone praises Joseph, Sir Oliver observes, “then he has bowed as low to knaves and fools”
as he has to honest folk. As for Charles, Sir Oliver says that it is only natural for a young man to
“run out of course a little.” However, to learn the truth about his nephews, he says he will go
under cover and speak to Charles and Joseph separately. How they respond to his questions will
tell him what he wants to know. First, he will disguise himself as a moneylender and assume the

124. name Mr. Premium. Later, he will assume the identify of real person, Mr. Stanley, a Dublin
relative of Charles and Joseph whom they have never seen. Stanley has written each of them a
letter requesting financial assistance. So far, Joseph has provided nil. Charles, however, "has
done all that his extravagance has left him power to do," Rowley says.
Sir Oliver first visits Charles (at the house of Charles's late father) as Mr. Premium. With him is
a Jewish moneylender, Moses, whom Sir Oliver has hired. Moses had previously lent money to
Charles. A servant, Trip, greets them. Charles, meanwhile, is in another room drinking and
singing with friends as a prelude to a night of gambling. While Sir Oliver waits for Charles to
receive him and Moses, Trip tries to borrow twenty pounds from Moses. Sir Oliver remarks to
Moses, “If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the temple of dissipation indeed!”
When Trip takes them to see Charles, the latter is with a man named Careless. Both have been
drinking heavily. Charles immediately asks Mr. Premium for money, saying he is “blockhead
enough to pay fifty percent” interest. Though he has no collateral to put up, he says he has a rich
uncle in the East Indies from whom he will receive a generous sum upon the uncle's death. Mr.
Premium then says he has heard that the uncle is in excellent health. Consequently, he does not
wish to wait indefinitely for repayment of the loan. However, he is willing to purchase household
goods such as silverware. But Charles has sold everything of value except family portraits. When
Mr. Premium expresses an interest in buying them, Charles asks Careless to act as an auctioneer
and Moses as an appraiser.
One by one, Charles sells the portraits—those of a great-uncle, a great-aunt, his mother's
grandfather, and others. But Charles always passes over a portrait of Sir Oliver. When Mr.
Premium tries to buy it, saying that “I have somehow taken a fancy to that picture,” Charles
refuses to part with it.“The old fellow has been very good to me, and, egad, I'll keep this picture
while I've a room to put it in”. Mr. Premium then offers as much for the portrait as he paid for all
the other pictures combined. Still, Charles refuses to part with it. Convinced that Charles has a
good heart, Sir Oliver and Moses leave.A short while later, Rowley appears, and Charles gives
him a hundred pounds for Mr. Stanley. After Rowley shows the money to Sir Oliver, the latter
pledges to pay Charles's debts and then says he will visit Joseph.
Meanwhile, a servant informs Joseph that Lady Teazle has arrived at the door of his apartment.
Before marrying Sir Peter, she was a country girl. Her fascination with sophisticated London life
and its mischiefs has caused her to consider a dalliance with Joseph, who welcomes her
attentions. But she has not made up her mind on the matter. Joseph tells his servant, William, to
pull a screen in front of a window to prevent a lady in the opposite dwelling from looking in.
After Lady Teazle enters, she complains that her husband has become cranky with her lately and
that he frowns on Charles's fondness for Maria. “I wish he would let Maria marry him,” she says.
Aware that Lady Teazle suspects him of desiring Maria, Joseph says he also wishes Sir Peter
would allow the marriage, adding, “for then my dear Lady Teazle would also be convinced, how
wrong her suspicions were of my having any design on the silly girl.” Joseph makes a play for
Lady Teazle, but she rebuffs his advances. Apparently, the gloss of illicit romance has suddenly
worn off. Only further “ill usage” by Sir Peter would make her consider cheating on him, she
says. William then informs Joseph that Sir Peter is in the building and on his way up the stairs.
Lady Teazle hides behind the screen.
When Sir Peter enters, he tells Joseph that he suspects his wife of having an affair with Charles.
(The rumor concocted by Lady Sneerwell and Joseph and spread by Snake has apparently

125. reached Sir Peter's ears.) Joseph pretends to defend the honor of Charles and Lady Teazle, but he
is no doubt pleased that his nefarious scheme is working. After expressing regret for the strained
relationship between himself and his wife, Sir Peter shows Joseph proof of his affection for his
wife: two legal documents, one that grants his wife a generous allotment while he lives and
another that bequeaths her most of his possessions upon his death. Then, to Joseph's horror, Sir
Peter asks Joseph about his progress with Maria. When Joseph tries to avoid the subject, Sir
Peter says, "And though you are so averse to my acquainting Lady Teazle with your passion for
Maria, I'm sure she's not your enemy in the affair."
William announces that Charles is on his way up. Sir Peter then says he will hide while Joseph
questions Charles about whether he is having an affair with Lady Teazle. When Sir Peter makes
a move for the screen, he sees a petticoat.“There seems to be one listener there already,” he
says.Joseph, admitting that he is only human, says it is “a little French milliner” he has been
seeing. She hid behind the screen, he says, to conceal her identity and safeguard her
reputation.“You rogue!” Sir Peter says. Then he hides in a closet. After Charles arrives and
Joseph questions him, he denies upon his honor of having any relationship with Lady Teazle. It
is Maria whom he fancies, he asserts. Then he says, “I always understood you were her
favourite.”
In a hushed voice, Joseph tells Charles that Sir Peter has overheard their conversation. Joseph
points to the closet. Without hesitation, Charles calls out to Sir Peter. The latter comes forth and
says to Charles, “I believe I have suspected you wrongfully.” To protect his brother, Charles tells
Sir Peter that what he said about Joseph and Lady Teazle was a joke. William comes in and
whispers to Joseph that he has another visitor. When Joseph goes downstairs to greet the person,
Sir Peter informs Charles that another person is in the room, a “French milliner” behind the
screen. “Oh, egad, we'll have a peep,” Charles says.
Joseph enters just when Charles pulls down the screen. Sir Peter is shocked when he sees his
wife. Joseph fabricates a story to explain her presence. But Lady Teazle says there is not “one
syllable of truth” in it. She came to Joseph's apartment, she says, to listen to his “pretended
passion” for her but found him “truly despicable.” She also says she now has new respect for her
husband, then leaves. After declaring Joseph a villain, Sir Peter also leaves.
Joseph is now alone, but a short while later William announces the arrival of Mr. Stanley (Sir
Oliver pretending to be Stanley). When Stanley requests financial assistance, Joseph says he is
unable to provide it. “If your uncle, Sir Oliver, were here, I should have a friend,” Stanley says.
“I imagined his bounty would enable you to become the agent of his charity.”Joseph then says
his uncle is hardly charitable. In fact, Joseph claims, “what he has done for me has been a mere
nothing.” In truth, Sir Oliver had previously given him 12,000 pounds. Sir Oliver leaves. A short
while later, Rowley calls upon Joseph with a letter informing him that Sir Oliver has returned to
London.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Candour calls at Sir Peter's home to see Lady Teazle, but the maid tells her
Mrs. Teazle is not seeing anyone. Sir Benjamin then arrives, followed by Lady Sneerwell and
Crabtree. All of them have heard about the confrontation between Joseph and Sir Peter and are
now prying for more news. According to Sir Benjamin, Joseph wounded Sir Peter in a fight with
swords; according to Crabtree, Charles wounded Sir Peter in a pistol duel. Sir Oliver comes in,
and they address him as a doctor and ask about Sir Peter's condition. When they learn that he is
not a doctor, they give their differing reports about the “duel.” Sir Peter then arrives home,
unhurt, and banishes all the gossips. Rowley arrives just as they are leaving.

126. Sir Oliver tells Sir Peter that he knows all about the goings-on at Joseph's and that he is going
back to Joseph's apartment “to expose hypocrisy.” Sir Peter and Rowley say they will follow him
shortly.Sir Peter and Rowley turn their attention to Lady Teazle, whom they see crying through
the open door of another room. Sir Peter notes that he found a letter she wrote that was intended
for Charles. But Rowley says the letter was a forgery. He will produce Snake, he says, to confirm
what he says.
Meanwhile, Lady Sneerwell meets with Joseph in his apartment and tells him it now appears that
Sir Peter will reconcile with Charles and “no longer oppose his union with Maria.” She blames
Joseph for this turn of events. He admits his blunder but says all is not lost. All they need to do is
get Snake to swear that Charles "is at this time contracted by vows and honour to your ladyship."
When Sir Oliver knocks, Lady Sneerwell goes into another room. After Sir Oliver enters, Joseph
thinks he is Stanley and orders him out. Joseph's servant, William, attempts to push him out the
door. But at that moment, Charles enters and thinks Sir Oliver is Premium. Still unaware that
Stanley/Premium is Sir Oliver, they both try to get rid of him before their uncle (Sir Oliver)
appears. But when the Teazles, Maria, and Rowley arrive, they all address the visitor as Sir
Oliver.
Joseph gets his comeuppance and loses the promise of a generous bequest from Sir Oliver.
Charles apologizes to Sir Oliver for his behavior at the portrait “auction.” Sir Oliver, previously
convinced of Charles's basic goodness, shakes his nephew's hand. Lady Teazle then says, “Sir
Oliver, here is one whom Charles is still more anxious to be reconciled to.” It is Maria, of course.
But Maria believes the rumors that Charles has been involved with Lady Sneerwell. Lady
Sneerwell and Snake then enter the room. Snake tells Lady Sneerwell, "[Y]ou paid me extremely
liberally for the lie in question; but I unfortunately have been offered double to speak the truth."
Lady Teazle then tells Lady Sneerwell,[L]et me thank you for the trouble you and that gentleman
have taken, in writing letters from me to Charles, and answering them yourself; and let me also
request you to make my respects to the scandalous college [school for scandal, figuratively], of
which you are president, and inform them, that Lady Teazle, licentiate, begs leave to return the
diploma they gave her, as she leaves off practice, and kills characters no longer.LadySneerwell
and and the disinherited Joseph leave, and all is well now with Charles and Maria.
Climax The climax occurs near the end of Act 5 after Rowley brings in Snake. He and Lady
Teazle then testify against Lady Sneerwell (and, by implication, against Joseph). Dialogue is
here:
Lady Teazle: Hold, Lady Sneerwell, before you go, let me thank you for the trouble you and that
gentleman have taken, in writing letters from me to Charles, and answering them yourself; and
let me also request you to make my respects to the scandalous college, of which you are
president, and inform them, that Lady Teazle, licentiate, begs leave to return the diploma they
gave her, as she leaves off practice, and kills characters no longer.
Epilogue- In the epilogue—written by George Colman, a playwright who managed the
Haymarket Theatre—Lady Teazel resigns herself to adapting to a life with her middle-aged
husband. The epilogue is spoken by Mrs. Abington who played the role of Lady Teazle.
Epilogue includes an elaborate parody of a famous speech in Othello.
In the epilogue Lady Teazle compares Sheridan to the character of Bayes in Duke of
Buckingham’s play The Rehearsal- “So wills our virtuous bard! The motley Bayes, Of crying
epilogues and laughing plays”

127. Themes
Defamation of Character Underlying the comedy is a serious theme: condemnation of the
odious practice of slander. Spreading scandal was commonplace in London's high society of the
1770s, when conversation—in drawing rooms, at balls, in spas, and across card tables—was a
form of entertainment.
Deceptive Appearances Charles has a reputation as a scoundrel. But beneath his flawed veneer,
he is a decent fellow. Joseph has a reputation as an upright man. But beneath his flawless veneer,
he is a villain. Hence before judging a person, look beneath his or her outward guise.
Hypocrisy Joseph pretends to be a paragon of honor and rectitude while attempting to sabotage
his brother and marry into a fortune. Mrs. Candour and others of her ilk pretend to oppose gossip
but delight in spreading it.
Steadfast Integrity Amid all the wrongdoing in the play, it is easy to overlook the moral resolve
of Maria—and to a lesser extent, Charles. Maria refuses to gossip and repeatedly denounces the
practice. For example, in Act 1, she tells Mrs. Candour, "'Tis strangely impertinent for people to
busy themselves so [with gossip]." When Joseph Surface attempts to defend his tongue-wagging
friends—saying, "[T]hey appear more ill-natured than they are; they have no malice at heart"—
Maria replies, "Then is their conduct more contemptible; for, in my opinion, nothing could
excuse the intemperance of their tongues but an unnatural and uncontrollable bitterness of mind."
Maria also steadfastly refuses to become involved with Joseph Surface even though her legal
guardian, St. Peter Teazle, pressures her to do so. For his part, Charles Surface—despite his
extravagance and devil-may-care lifestyle—refuses to compromise the basic goodness that
undergirds his character. In particular, he refuses to sell the portrait of Sir Oliver even though the
bidder, Sir Oliver in the guise of Mr. Premium, offers him a large sum of money. Moreover, even
though he has little money left to support his wastrel ways, he contributes a generous sum to the
destitute Mr. Stanley.
Pitfalls of Idleness An implied theme in the play is that idleness breeds mischief. Most of the
characters live on inherited money and property, allowing them to devote a good portion of their
time to leisure activities. Telling or listening to scandalous stories, as well as reading about them,
is apparently one of their favorite pastimes. Favored activities of the young include gambling and
drinking.
Vocabulary and Allusions
à la Chinois (French): Like the Chinese; in the Chinese manner.
annuity bill: Legislation that would cancel contracts with minors for annuities.
avadavats: Small Asian songbirds
Battle of Malplaquet: Battle on September 11, 1709, in the War of the Spanish Succession
(1701-1714).
bough-pots: Flower pots.
cicisbeo: Man who loves a married woman.
conversazione (English pronunciation: KON vehrsatzee O nee; Italian pronunciation:
KON vehrsatzee O nay): social gathering at which attendees discuss literature and the arts.
Crutched Friars: London street.

128. Duke of Marlborough: John Churchill, first duke of Marlborough (1650-1722), a great British
general. He won major victories against France in the War of the Spanish Succession.
egad: Interjection expressing surprise. It is a euphemism for “Oh, God!”
Grosvenor Square (pronounced GROVE ner): Exclusive residential section of London.
guinea: English coin worth twenty-one shillings. (A shilling is worth one-twentieth of a pound.)
hazard regimen: Careless speaks the phrase in the third scene of Act 3 in reference to his and
Charles's friend Sir Harry. Harry is on an alcohol-free diet to get in shape for hazard, a dice
game, or for any other game of chance.
Hyde Park: London park.
jointure: Estate; legal arrangement in which a husband wills real estate to his wife.
Kensington Gardens: London park.
Kneller: Sir Godfrey Kneller (1646?-1723), an important portrait painter in England.
Montem: See Salthill.
Old Jewry: Section of London where moneylenders did business.
oons: See zounds.
pagodas: Gold coins of India.
Pantheon: Concert hall in London.
Phoebus: In Greek mythology, Apollo, the god of prophecy, music, poetry, and medicine. When
referred to as Phoebus, he was regarded as the sun. In this role, he drove a golden chariot across
the sky.
Pope Joan: Card game.
post-obit: Note that promises to pay a debt after the death of a person expected to will money to
the debtor.
Sacharissa: Lady Dorothy Sydney, countess of Sunderland, whom poet Edmund Waller (1606-
1687) wooed unsuccessfully. He praised her in poems such as “Song to the Rose” and “Verses
on a Girdle,” addressing her as Sacharissa.
Salthill: Mound about two miles from Eton, a prestigious English school for boys, where
students collected donations from passersby for the school's senior scholar, who would use the
money when he later attended Cambridge University. The collection ceremony was referred to as
the Montem (from the Latin phrase ad montem, meaning to the mound). The collection was held
once a year in January until 1758. Between 1759 and 1777, the collection was held every two
years on the Tuesday after Pentecost. Beginning in 1778, the collection was held every three
years. In 1847, the collection custom was abolished.
stool of repentance: In a Scottish church, a stool in the front of the church reserved for sinners.
table d'hôte: Restaurant or hotel meal of several courses with a fixed price.
tontine: Investment arrangement in which participants pay equal shares into a fund and
periodically receive dividends. The investor who outlives all the other participants receives all
the invested money.

129. trepan: deceive, trick.
vestals: vestal virgins.
wainscot: Paneling on the lower part of a wall.
woolsack: Cushion on which the lord chancellor of England sat in Parliament in the House of
Lords.
worsted: Woolen cloth with fibers combed to run in the same direction.
zounds: Interjection that abbreviates the phrase “by His wounds” (by the wounds of Christ). It
expresses surprise, anger, annoyance, disbelief.
Anti-Semitic Overtones In England and other European countries in the late Middle Ages, laws
required Jews to wear identifying patches. During outbreaks of plague, Christians blamed Jews
for spreading the disease. England decided to solve the "Jewish problem" once and for all by
expelling Jews in 1290. Beginning in 1655, England under Oliver Cromwell readmitted Jews. In
1753, Parliament approved legislation granting the naturalization of Jewish immigrants.
However, anti-Semitism remained strong in the country. The School for Scandal, which debuted
in 1777, contains passages that reflect the attitude of many Englishmen toward Jews. Several of
these passages describe the Jewish moneylender Moses as "the honest Israelite," "honest Moses,"
and "very honest fellow," implying that his honesty is rare among Jews. In the first scene of Act
3, Rowley refers to Moses as a "friendly Jew," implying that most other Jews are unfriendly.


Other Facts
Auction scene/ portrait scene- Act IV, Scene1
Screen scene- Act IV, Scene 3
In Act III, scene1- Master Rowley recites a line from Shakespeare’s (“our immortal bard”)Henry
IV while referring to the character of Charles- “ a tear for pity, and a hand/ Open as day, for
melting charity”
Rowley often addresses Moses as “honest Israelite”
The proverb that Rowley often repeats to Charles- “Be just (justice) before you’re generous”
Morality and sentiment are the two qualities used by Joseph to double cross people

Critics on the play
• “If not the most original, perhaps the most finished and faultless comedy which we
have… Besides the wit and ingenuity of this play, there is a genial spirit of frankness and
generosity about it, that relieves the heart as well as clears the lungs. It professes a faith
in the natural goodness as well as habitual depravity of human nature”- William Hazlitt
• “Sheridan brought the comedy of manners to the highest perfection and The School for
Scandal remains to this day the most popular comedy in the English language. Some of

130. the characters both in this play and in The Rivals have become so closely associated with
our current speech that we may fairly regard them as imperishable”- Sir Henry Irving
• "perhaps the best existing English comedy of intrigue"- Edmund Gosse
• Charles Lamb wrote that "This comedy grew out of Congreve and Wycherley", but
criticised "sentimental incompatibilities" even while admitting that "the gaiety upon the
whole is buoyant."
• In modern times, the play has been criticised for some hints of anti-Semitism- "the
disparaging remarks made about moneylenders, who were often Jewish."
Quotes
• “She wants the delicacy of hint, and mellowness of sneer which distinguishes your
ladyship’s scandal”- Snake compares Lady Sneerwell and Mrs. Clackit
• “Wit loses its respect with me, when I see it in company with malice”- Maria about
Benjamin
• “there’s no possibility of being witty without a little ill-nature: the malice of a good thing
is the barb that makes it stick”- Lady Sneerwell
• “I cannot bear to hear people attacked behind their backs , and when ugly circumstances
come out against one’s acquaintances I own I always think to the best- Mrs.Candour
• “Tale-bearers are as bad as the tale-makers.”- Mrs. Candour
• “The heart that is conscious of its own integrity is ever slow to credit another´s
treachery.”- Joseph
• “To pity, without the power to relieve, is still more painful than to ask and be denied.”-
Joseph
• “Alas! The devil is sooner raised than laid…/Again your young Don Quixote takes the
road: / To show his gratitude, he draws his pen,/ And seeks this hydra, Scandal, in its den/
For your applause all perils he would through,/ He’ll fight-that’s write- a Cavaliero true,/
Till every drop of blood- that’s ink- is split for you”- Speaker about the poet in
Prologue
• “When an old bachelor marries an young wife- he deserves- no, the crime carries the
punishment along with it”- Sir Peter
• “You should find fault with the climate, and not with me. For my part, I am sure I wish it
was spring all the year round, and that roses grew under one’s feet- Lady Teazle to Sir
Peter

131. • “Ah! Many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief than those utterers of
forged tales, coiners of scandal,- and clippers of reputation”- Sir Peter
• “I have no malice against the people I abuse; when in say an ill-natured thing, ‘tis out of
pure good humor-and I take it for granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me”
-Lady Teazle
• “For my part, I believe there never was a scandalous tale without some foundation
-Crabtree
• “If to raise malicious smiles at the infirmities or misfortunes of those who have never
injured us be the province of wit or humour, Heaven grant me a double portion of
dullness.” - Maria
• “I leave my character behind” - Sir Peter
• “There are a set of malicious, prating prudent gossips, both male and female, who murder
character to kill time, and will rob a young fellow of his good name before he has years
to know the value of it- Sir Oliver
• “ He has too good a character to be an honest fellow- Everybody speaks well of
him…then he has bowed as low to knaves and fools as to the honest dignity of genius or
virtue
-Sir Oliver about Joseph
• “If the man be a character of his master, this is the temple of dissipation, indeed”
-Sir Oliver about Trip
• “What man can pretend to be a believer in love, who is an abjurer of wine?... Fill a dozen
bumpers to dozen beauties, and she that floats at the top is the maid that has bewitched
you”- Charles
• “Odd’s life! Do you take me for Shylock in the play, that you would raise money on your
own flesh and blood- Sir Oliver as Premium in the auction scene
• “Punctuality is a species of constancy, a very unfashionable quality in a lady”- Joseph
• “Certainly this is the oddest doctrine, and the newest receipt for avoiding calumny” –
Lady Teazle to Joseph
• “When ingratitude barbs the dart of injury, the wound has double danger in it” –Joseph
to Sir Peter about the supposed affair of Lady Teazle and Charles

132. • “No, Sir; she has recovered her senses, and your own arts have furnished her with the
means…I behold him now in a new light so truly despicable, that I shall never again
respect myself for having listened to him”- Lady Teazle about Joseph
• “I believe there is no sentiment he has more faith in than charity begins at home”-Rowley
about Joseph
• “He that is in distress though a stranger, has a right to claim kindred with the wealthy”-
Joseph to Sir Oliver disguised as Stanley
• “This is the bad effect of good character…the silver ore of pure charity is an expensive
article in the catalogue of man’s good qualities- whereas the sentimental French plate I
use instead of it makes just as good a show and pays no tax”- Joseph
• “Fiends! Vipers! Furies! Oh, that their on venom would choke them”- Sir Peter to
scandal mongers
• “We live in a damned wicked world and the fewer we praise the better”- Sir Peter
• “I hate such an avarice of crimes; ‘Tis an unfair monopoly, and never prospers”- Lady
Sneerwell to Joseph
• “Aye, marry her Joseph…Oil and vinegar, egad! You’ll do very well together”- Sir
Oliver
• “I live by the badness ofmycharacter, I have nothing but my infamy to depend on! And, if
it were once known that I have betrayed into an honest action, I should lose every friend I
have in the world”- Snake
• “Though thou, dear maid, shouldst waive thy/ beauty’s sway/ Thou still must rule,
because I will obey:/ An humble fugitive from folly view,/ No sanctuary near- but Love
and You”- Charles to Maria
• “Blest were the fair like you, her faults who stopped/ and closed her follies, when the
curtain dropped! / No more in vice or error to engage; / Or play the fool at large, on life’s
greatest stage”- spoken by Mrs. Abington in the epilogue (as if the writer is addressing
the audience)

Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (1854 – 1900)
• An Irish author, playwright and poet.
• After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of London's most
popular playwrights in the early 1890s.

133. • He is remembered for his epigrams, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, his plays, as
well as the circumstances of his imprisonment and early death.
• He became known for his involvement in the rising philosophy of aestheticism, led by
two of his tutors, Walter Pater and John Ruskin.
• Known for his biting wit, flamboyant dress and glittering conversation, Wilde became
one of the best-known personalities of his day.
• At the turn of the 1890s, he refined his ideas about the supremacy of art in a series of
dialogues and essays, and incorporated themes of decadence, duplicity, and beauty into
his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890).
• The opportunity to construct aesthetic details precisely, and combine them with larger
social themes, drew Wilde to write drama. He wrote Salome (1891) in French in Paris
but it was refused a licence for England due to the absolute prohibition of Biblical
subjects on the English stage.
• Unperturbed, Wilde produced four society comedies in the early 1890s, which made him
one of the most successful playwrights of late Victorian London.
• At the height of his fame and success, while his masterpiece, The Importance of Being
Earnest (1895), was still on stage in London, Wilde had the Marquess of
Queensberry prosecuted for libel.
• The Marquess was the father of Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. The charge carried a
penalty of up to two years in prison. The trial unearthed evidence that caused Wilde to
drop his charges and led to his own arrest and trial for gross indecency with other men.
• After two more trials he was convicted and imprisoned for two years' hard labour. In
1897, in prison, he wrote De Profundis, which was published in 1905, a long letter
which discusses his spiritual journey through his trials, forming a dark counterpoint to his
earlier philosophy of pleasure.
• Upon his release he left immediately for France, never to return to Ireland or Britain.
There he wrote his last work, The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898), a long poem
commemorating the harsh rhythms of prison life. He died destitute in Paris at the age of
46.
• In London, he had been introduced in 1881 to Constance Lloyd, daughter of Horace
Lloyd, a wealthy Queen's Counsel. He proposed to her, and they married.

• Wilde became the sole literary signatory of George Bernard Shaw's petition for a pardon
of the anarchists arrested (and later executed) after theHaymarket massacre in Chicago in
1886.

• Robert Ross had read Wilde's poems before they met, and was unrestrained by the
Victorian prohibition against homosexuality, even to the extent of estranging himself
from his family.By Richard Ellmann's account, he was a precocious seventeen-year-old
"so young and yet so knowing, was determined to seduce Wilde".

134. Comedies of society
Lady Windermere's Fan, A HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Woman_of_No_Importance" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Woman_of_No_Importance" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Woman_of_No_Importance" Woman of No
Importance and An Ideal Husband
• Wilde, who had first set out to irritate Victorian society with his dress and talking points,
then outrage it with Dorian Gray, his novel of vice hidden beneath art, finally found a
way to critique society on its own terms.
• Lady Windermere's Fan was first performed on 20 February 1892 at St James Theatre,
packed with the cream of society. On the surface a witty comedy, there is subtle
subversion underneath: "it concludes with collusive concealment rather than collective
disclosure". The audience, like Lady Windermere, are forced to soften harsh social codes
in favour of a more nuanced view. The play was enormously popular, touring the country
for months, but largely trashed by conservative critics.
• It was followed by A Woman of No Importance in 1893, another Victorian comedy:
revolving around the spectre of illegitimate births, mistaken identities and late
revelations. Wilde was commissioned to write two more plays and An Ideal Husband,
written in 1894 followed in January 1895.
• Peter Raby said these essentially English plays were well-pitched, "Wilde, with one eye
on the dramatic genius of Ibsen, and the other on the commercial competition in London's
West End, targeted his audience with adroit precision"
The Importance of Being Earnest
• Wilde's final play again returns to the theme of switched identities: the play's two
protagonists engage in "bunburying" (the maintenance of alternative personas in the town
and country) which allows them to escape Victorian social mores.
• Earnest is even lighter in tone than Wilde's earlier comedies. While their characters often
rise to serious themes in moments of crisis, Earnest lacks the by-now stock Wildean
characters: there is no "woman with a past", the principals are neither villainous nor
cunning, simply idle cultivés, and the idealistic young women are not that innocent.
• Mostly set in drawing rooms and almost completely lacking in action or
violence, Earnest lacks the self-conscious decadence found in The Picture of Dorian
Gray and Salome.
• The play, now considered Wilde's masterpiece, was rapidly written in Wilde's artistic
maturity in late 1894.It was first performed on 14 February 1895, at St James's Theatrein
London, Wilde's second collaboration with George Alexander, the actor-manager.
• Both author and producer assiduously revised, prepared and rehearsed every line, scene
and setting in the months before the premiere, creating a carefully constructed
representation of late-Victorian society, yet simultaneously mocking it.
• During rehearsal Alexander requested that Wilde shorten the play from four acts to three,
which the author did.

135. • Earnest's immediate reception as Wilde's best work to-date finally crystallised his fame
into a solid artistic reputation. The Importance of Being Earnest remains his most popular
play.
Selected works
• Ravenna (1878)
• Poems (1881)
• The Happy Prince and Other Stories (1888, fairy stories)
• Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories (1891, stories)
• House of Pomegranates (1891, fairy stories)
• Intentions (1891, essays and dialogues on aesthetics)
• The Picture of Dorian Gray (first published in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine July 1890,
in book form in 1891; novel)
• The Soul of Man under Socialism (1891, political essay)
• Lady Windermere's Fan (1892, play)
• A Woman of No Importance (1893, play)
• An Ideal Husband (performed 1895, published 1898; play)
• The Importance of Being Earnest (performed 1895, published 1898; play)
• De Profundis (written 1897, published variously 1905, 1908, 1949, 1962; epistle)
• The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898, poem)
The Importance of Being Earnest
• SUBTITLE: A Trivial Comedy for Serious People .
• First performed on 14 February 1895 at the St James's Theatre in London,
• it is a farcical comedy in which the protagonists maintain fictitious personæ to escape
burdensome social obligations.
• Working within the social conventions of late Victorian London, the play's major themes
are the triviality with which it treats institutions as serious as marriage, and the resulting
satire of Victorian ways.
• Contemporary reviews all praised the play's humour, though some were cautious about
its explicit lack of social messages, while others foresaw the modern consensus that it
was the culmination of Wilde's artistic career so far.
• Its high farce and witty dialogue have helped make The Importance of Being
Earnest Wilde's most enduringly popular play.
• The successful opening night marked the climax of Wilde's career but also heralded his
downfall. The Marquess of Queensberry, whose son Lord Alfred Douglas was Wilde's
lover, planned to present the writer with a bouquet of rotten vegetables and disrupt the
show.

136. • Wilde was tipped off and Queensberry was refused admission. Soon afterwards their
feud came to a climax in court, where Wilde's homosexual double life was revealed to
the Victorian public and he was eventually sentenced to imprisonment.
• His notoriety caused the play, despite its early success, to be closed after
86 performances. After his release, he published the play from exile in Paris, but he
wrote no further comic or dramatic work.
• The Importance of Being Earnest has been revived many times since its premiere.
• It has been adapted for the cinema on three occasions. In The Importance of Being
Earnest (1952), Dame Edith Evans reprised her celebrated interpretation of Lady
Bracknell;The Importance of Being Earnest (1992) by Kurt Baker used an all-black cast;
and Oliver Parker's The Importance of Being Earnest(2002) incorporated some of
Wilde's original material cut during the preparation of the original stage production.
Critical reception
• Bernard Shaw reviewed the play in the Saturday Review, arguing that comedy should
touch as well as amuse, "I go to the theatre to be moved to laughter." Later in a letter he
said, the play, though "extremely funny", was Wilde's "first really heartless [one]".
• In The World, William Archer wrote that he had enjoyed watching the play but found it
to be empty of meaning, "What can a poor critic do with a play which raises no principle,
whether of art or morals, creates its own canons and conventions, and is nothing but an
absolutely wilful expression of an irrepressibly witty personality?"
• In The Speaker, A. B. Walkley admired the play and was one of few to see it as the
culmination of Wilde's dramatic career. He denied the term "farce" was derogatory, or
even lacking in seriousness, and said "It is of nonsense all compact, and better nonsense,
I think, our stage has not seen."
• H. G. Wells, in an unsigned review for the Pall Mall Gazette, called Earnest one of the
freshest comedies of the year, saying "More humorous dealing with theatrical
conventions it would be difficult to imagine." He also questioned whether people would
fully see its message, "...how Serious People will take this Trivial Comedy intended for
their learning remains to be seen. No doubt seriously."
• The play was so light-hearted that many reviewers compared it to comic opera rather
than drama. W. H. Auden later called it "a pure verbal opera".
• The Importance of Being Earnest is Wilde's most popular work and is continually
revived.
• Max Beerbohm called the play Wilde's "finest, most undeniably his own", saying that in
his other comedies—Lady Windermere's Fan, A Woman of No Importance and An Ideal
Husband—the plot, following the manner of Victorien Sardou, is unrelated to the theme
of the work, while in Earnest the story is "dissolved" into the form of the play.


Summary
Act I

137. • The curtain opens on the flat of wealthy Algernon Moncrieff in London's fashionable
West End. While Algernon (Algy, for short) plays the piano, his servant (Lane) is
arranging cucumber sandwiches for the impending arrival of Algernon's aunt (Lady
Bracknell) and her daughter (Gwendolen). Mr. Jack Worthing (a friend of Moncrieff's
and known to him as Ernest) arrives first. Jack announces that he plans to propose
marriage to Gwendolen, but Algernon claims that he will not consent to their marriage
until Jack explains why he is known as Ernest and why he has a cigarette case with a
questionable inscription from a mysterious lady.
• Jack claims that he has made up the character of Ernest because it gives him an excuse to
visit the city. In the country, however, he is known as Jack Worthing, squire, with a
troubled brother named Ernest. At first he lies and says the cigarette case is from his Aunt
Cecily. Algernon calls his bluff, and Jack confesses that he was adopted by Mr. Thomas
Cardew when he was a baby and that he is a guardian to Cardew's granddaughter, Cecily,
who lives on his country estate with her governess, Miss Prism.
• Similarly, Algernon confesses that he has invented an imaginary invalid friend, named
Bunbury, whom he visits in the country when he feels the need to leave the city. After
speculating on marriage and the need to have an excuse to get away, the two agree to dine
together at the fashionable Willis', and Jack enlists Algernon's assistance in distracting
Lady Bracknell so that Jack can propose to Gwendolen.
• Lady Bracknell and her daughter, Gwendolen, arrive. She is expecting her nephew,
Algernon, at a dinner party that evening, but Algy explains that he must go see his invalid
friend, Bunbury, in the country. However, he promises to make arrangements for the
music at her reception on Saturday. They exchange small talk about various members of
the upper class, and Lady Bracknell exclaims at the lack of cucumber sandwiches. The
butler, Lane, lies beautifully, explaining there were no cucumbers in the market.
• In an effort to leave Jack alone with Gwendolen, Algernon takes Lady Bracknell into
another room to discuss music. Meanwhile, Jack proposes to Gwendolen; unfortunately,
she explains that her ideal is to marry someone named Ernest and that Jack has no music
or vibration to it. Nevertheless, she accepts his proposal, and Jack decides to arrange a
private christening so that he can become Ernest. Lady Bracknell returns and, seeing Jack
on bended knee, demands an explanation. Denying the engagement, she sends
Gwendolen to the carriage.
• Lady Bracknell interrogates Jack to determine his suitability. When Jack explains that he
was found in a handbag abandoned in a railway station, Lady Bracknell is shocked. Jack
goes on to explain that Mr. Thomas Cardew found him in Victoria Station and named
him "Worthing" for the destination of his train ticket. Lady Bracknell announces that
Gwendolen cannot "marry into a cloakroom, and form an alliance with a parcel." She
advises Jack to find some relations. She bids him good morning and majestically sweeps
out as Algernon plays the wedding march from the next room. Turning his thoughts to
Cecily, Jack decides to kill off his "brother" Ernest with a severe chill in Paris because
Cecily Cardew, his ward, is far too interested in the wicked Ernest, and as her guardian,
Jack feels it his duty to protect her from inappropriate marriage suitors.
• Gwendolen returns and tells Jack they can never marry, but she will always love him, and
she will try to change her mother's mind. She asks for his country address so that she can

138. write him daily and, as he dictates the address, Algernon furtively writes it on his own
shirt cuff because he is curious about Cecily Cardew.
Act II
• Act II is set at Jack Worthing's country estate where Miss Prism is seated in the garden
giving her student, Cecily Cardew, a lesson in German grammar. When Cecily expresses
an interest in meeting Jack's wicked brother, Ernest, Miss Prism repeats Jack's opinion
that his brother has a weak character. The governess knows what happens to people who
have weak characters. In her younger days, Miss Prism wrote a three-volume novel, and
she proclaims that fiction shows how good people end happily and bad people end
unhappily.
• The local reverend, Canon Chasuble, enters and flirts with Miss Prism. The two leave for
a turn in the garden. While they are gone, Merriman, the butler, announces Mr. Ernest
Worthing has just arrived with his luggage and is anxious to speak with Miss Cardew.
Algernon comes in, pretending to be Jack's brother, Ernest. When Cecily says that Jack is
coming to the country Monday afternoon, Algernon/Ernest announces that he will be
leaving Monday morning. They will just miss each other. Algernon compliments her
beauty, and they go inside just before Miss Prism and Dr. Chasuble return.
• Jack enters in mourning clothes because his brother Ernest is dead in Paris. Jack takes the
opportunity to ask Dr. Chasuble to re-christen him that afternoon around 5 p.m. Cecily
comes from the house and announces that Jack's brother Ernest is in the dining room.
Oops. Ernest is supposed to be dead. Algernon comes out, and Jack is shocked.
Algernon/Ernest vows to reform and lead a better life.
• Jack is angry that Algernon could play such a trick. He orders the dogcart for Algernon to
leave in. After Jack goes into the house, Algernon announces he is in love with Cecily.
Algernon proclaims his undying affection while Cecily copies his words in her diary.
Algernon asks Cecily to marry him, and she agrees. In fact, she agrees readily because
she has made up an entire romantic story of their courtship and engagement. She has even
written imaginary letters to herself from Ernest/Algernon. She tells Algernon that her
dream has always been to marry someone named Ernest because the name inspires such
confidence. So, like Jack, Algernon decides he must be re-christened Ernest.
• While Algernon rushes out to make christening arrangements, Cecily writes Ernest's
proposal in her diary. She is interrupted by Merriman announcing The Honorable
Gwendolen Fairfax to see Jack; unfortunately, Jack is at the rectory. Cecily asks her in,
and they introduce themselves. Gwendolen did not know Jack had a ward, and she wishes
Cecily were older and less beautiful.
• Both announce that they are engaged to Ernest Worthing. When they compare diaries,
they decide that Gwendolen was asked first; however, Cecily says that since then, he has
obviously changed his mind and proposed to Cecily. Merriman and a footman enter with
tea, which stops their argument. They discuss geography and flowers in a civilized
manner while the servants are present. However, during the tea ceremony, Cecily
deliberately gives Gwendolen sugar in her tea when Gwendolen did not want sugar and
tea cake when Gwendolen expressly asked for bread and butter. The situation is very
tense and strained.

139. • Jack arrives, and Gwendolen calls him Ernest; he kisses Gwendolen who demands an
explanation of the situation. Cecily explains that this is not Ernest but her guardian, Jack
Worthing. Algernon comes in, and Cecily calls him Ernest. Gwendolen explains that he is
her cousin, Algernon Moncrieff.
• The ladies then console each other because the men have played a monstrous trick on
them. Jack sheepishly admits that he has no brother Ernest and has never had a brother of
any kind. Both ladies announce that they are not engaged to anyone and leave to go into
the house.

Act III
• No time has elapsed, but in Act III Gwendolen and Cecily are in the morning room of the
Manor House, looking out the window at Jack and Algernon and hoping they will come
in. If they do, the ladies intend to be cold and heartless. The men do come in and start
explaining why they lied about their names. The women accept their explanations but still
have a problem with them lacking the name Ernest. Both men proclaim that they plan to
be rechristened, and Gwendolen and Cecily forgive them, and both couples embrace.
• Merriman discretely coughs to signal the entrance of Lady Bracknell. She desires an
explanation for these hugs, and Gwendolen tells her that she is engaged to Jack. Lady
Bracknell says that they are not engaged and insists that they cease all communication.
She inquires about Algernon's invalid friend, Bunbury, and Algernon explains that he
killed him that afternoon; Bunbury exploded. He also adds that he and Cecily are
engaged. Immediately, Lady Bracknell interrogates Jack about Cecily's expectations.
However, because she has a fortune of 130,000 pounds, Lady Bracknell believes her to
have "distinct social possibilities."
• Lady Bracknell gives her consent to Algernon's engagement, but Jack immediately
objects as Cecily's guardian. He says that Algernon is a liar and lists all the lies he has
told. Also, Cecily does not come into her fortune and lose Jack as a guardian until she is
35 years old. Algernon says he can wait, but Cecily says she cannot. So Jack, in a
moment of brilliance, declares that he will agree to the marriage if Lady Bracknell will
consent to his engagement to Gwendolen. That is out of the question, and Lady Bracknell
prepares to leave with Gwendolen.
• Dr. Chasuble arrives and announces that he is ready for the christenings. Jack replies that
they are useless now, and Chasuble decides to head back to the church where Miss Prism
is waiting. The name Prism shocks Lady Bracknell, and she demands to see the
governess. When Miss Prism arrives, she sees Lady Bracknell and turns pale. In a
moment of great coincidence, Lady Bracknell reveals that Miss Prism left Lord
Bracknell's house 28 years ago. On a normal walk with the baby carriage, she
disappeared, along with the baby. She demands to know where the baby is. Prism
explains that in a moment of great distraction, she placed the baby in her handbag and her
three-volume, manuscript in the baby carriage. The baby and handbag were accidentally
left in the train station. When she discovered her error, she abandoned the baby carriage
and disappeared. Jack excitedly asks her which station it was, and when she reveals that it
was Victoria Station, the Brighton Line, he runs from the room and returns with a black
leather bag. When Prism identifies it, he embraces her, believing her to be his mother.

140. She protests that she is not married and says that he will have to ask Lady Bracknell for
the identity of his mother.
• Jack discovers that he is actually the son of Lady Bracknell's sister, Mrs. Moncrieff, and
that Algy is his older brother. Jack is overcome to know that he really does have an
unfortunate scoundrel for a brother. He asks what his christened name was, and Lady
Bracknell explains that it is Ernest John. So, Jack asserts that he had been speaking the
truth all along: His name is Ernest, and he does have a brother. Both couples embrace, as
do Chasuble and Miss Prism, and Jack declares that he finally realizes the importance of
being earnest.
Characters
John (Jack) Worthing A young, eligible bachelor about town. In the city he goes by the name
Ernest, and in the country he is Jack — a local magistrate of the county with responsibilities. His
family pedigree is a mystery, but his seriousness and sincerity are evident. He proposes to The
Honorable Gwendolen Fairfax and, though leading a double life, eventually demonstrates his
conformity to the Victorian moral and social standards.
Algernon Moncrieff A languid poser of the leisure class, bored by conventions and looking for
excitement. He, too, leads a double life, being Algernon in the city and Ernest in the country.
Algernon, unlike Jack, is not serious and is generally out for his own gratification. He falls in
love and proposes to Jack's ward, Cecily, while posing as Jack's wicked younger brother, Ernest.
Lady Bracknell The perfect symbol of Victorian earnestness — the belief that style is more
important than substance and that social and class barriers are to be enforced. Lady Bracknell is
Algernon's aunt trying to find a suitable wife for him. A strongly opinionated matriarch,
dowager, and tyrant, she believes wealth is more important than breeding and bullies everyone in
her path. Ironically, she married into the upper class from beneath it. She attempts to bully her
daughter,
Gwendolen. The Honorable Gwendolen Fairfax Lady Bracknell's daughter, exhibiting some of
the sophistication and confidence of a London socialite, believes style to be important, not
sincerity. She is submissive to her mother in public but rebels in private. While demonstrating
the absurdity of such ideals as only marrying a man named Ernest, she also agrees to marry Jack
despite her mother's disapproval of his origins.
Cecily Cardew Jack Worthing's ward, daughter of his adopted father, Sir Thomas Cardew. She
is of debutante age, 18, but she is being tutored at Jack's secluded country estate by Miss Prism,
her governess. She is romantic and imaginative, and feeling the repression of Prism's rules. A
silly and naïve girl, she declares that she wants to meet a "wicked man." Less sophisticated than
Gwendolen, she falls in love with Algernon but feels he would be more stable if named Ernest.
Miss Prism Cecily's governess and a symbol of Victorian moral righteousness. She is educating
Cecily to have no imagination or sensationalism in her life. Quoting scripture as a symbol of her
Victorian morality, she reveals a secret life of passion by her concern for the whereabouts of her
misplaced novel and her flirtation with the local vicar. She becomes the source of Jack's
revelation about his parents.
Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D. Like Miss Prism, he is the source of Victorian moral judgments,
but under the surface he appears to be an old lecher. His sermons are interchangeable, mocking
religious conventions. Like the servants, he does what Jack (the landowner) wants: performing

141. weddings, christenings, sermons, funerals, and so on. However, beneath the religious exterior,
his heart beats for Miss Prism.
Lane and Merriman Servants of Algernon and Jack. Lane says soothing and comforting things
to his employer but stays within the neutral guidelines of a servant. He is leading a double life,
eating sandwiches and drinking champagne when his master is not present. He aids and abets the
lies of Algernon. Merriman keeps the structure of the plot working: He announces people and
happenings. Like Lane, he does not comment on his "betters," but solemnly watches their folly.
His neutral facial expressions during crisis and chaos undoubtedly made the upper-class audience
laugh.
Quotes
“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
“I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the
train.”
“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.”
“The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.”
“I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being good all the
time. That would be hypocrisy.”
“If I am occasionally a little over-dressed, I make up for it by being always immensely over-
educated.”
“In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing.”
“I really don't see anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love. But there is
nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe.
Then the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get married,
I'll certainly try to forget the fact.”
“I never change, except in my affections.”
“I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate
exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically
unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever.”
“I don't like novels that end happily. They depress me so much”
“Oh! it is absurd to have a hard-and-fast rule about what one should read and what one shouldn't.
More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn't read.”

Thomas Stearns Eliot (1888 –1965)
• Usually known as T. S. Eliot, was an essayist, publisher, playwright, literary and social
critic, and "one of the twentieth century's major poets".
• He was born in St. Louis, Missouri, to the oldYankee Eliot family descended from
Andrew Eliot, who migrated to Boston, Massachusetts from East Coker, England in the
1660s.

142. • He immigrated to England in 1914 (at age 25), settling, working and marrying there. He
was eventually naturalised as a British subject in 1927 at age 39, renouncing his
American citizenship.
• Eliot attracted widespread attention for his poem The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock (1915), which is seen as a masterpiece of the Modernist movement. It was
followed by some of the best-known poems in the English language, including The Waste
Land (1922),The Hollow Men (1925), Ash Wednesday (1930), and Four
Quartets (1945).
[3]
He is also known for his seven plays, particularlyMurder in the
Cathedral (1935). He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948, "for his
outstanding, pioneer contribution to present-day poetry.
Early life and education
• Eliot was born into the Eliot family, a Boston Brahmin family with roots
in England and New England.
• His father, Henry Ware Eliot (1843–1919), was a successful businessman, president and
treasurer of the Hydraulic-Press Brick Company in St. Louis; his mother, Charlotte
Champe Stearns (1843–1929), wrote poetry and was a social worker, a new profession in
the early twentieth century.
• Eliot was the last of six surviving children; his parents were both 44 years old when he
was born. His four sisters were between eleven and nineteen years older; his brother was
eight years older. Known to family and friends as Tom, he was the namesake of his
maternal grandfather, Thomas Stearns.
•
His first published poem, "A Fable For Feasters", was written as a school exercise and
was published in the Smith Academy Record in February 1905. Also published there in
April 1905 was his oldest surviving poem in manuscript, an untitled lyric, later revised
and reprinted as "Song" in The Harvard Advocate, Harvard University's student
magazine.

• He also published three short stories in 1905, "Birds of Prey", "A Tale of a Whale" and
"The Man Who Was King". The last mentioned story significantly reflects his
exploration of Igorot Village while visiting the 1904 World's Fair of St. Louis. Such a
link with primitive people importantly antedates his anthropological studies at Harvard.
• Following graduation, Eliot attended Milton Academy in Massachusetts for a preparatory
year, where he met Scofield Thayer who would later publish The Waste Land.
• He studied philosophy at Harvard College from 1906 to 1909, earning his bachelor's
degree after three years, instead of the usual four. While a student, Eliot was placed on
academic probation and graduated with a pass degree (i.e. no honours).
[17]
Frank
Kermode writes that the most important moment of Eliot's undergraduate career was in
1908 when he discovered Arthur Symons's The Symbolist Movement in Literature (1899).

143. • This introduced him to Jules Laforgue, Arthur Rimbaud, and Paul Verlaine. Without
Verlaine, Eliot wrote, he might never have heard of Tristan Corbière and his book Les
amours jaunes, a work that affected the course of Eliot's life.
[18]
The Harvard
Advocate published some of his poems and he became lifelong friends with Conrad
Aiken the American novelist.
• By 1916, he had completed a doctoral dissertation for Harvard on Knowledge and
Experience in the Philosophy of F. H. Bradley, but he failed to return for the viva
voceexam.
• Eliot was invited to study at the Institute for Advanced Study by Director Frank
Aydelotte

and was a visiting scholar there in 1948 when he wrote The Cocktail Party.
Marriage
In a letter to Aiken late in December 1914, Eliot, aged 26, wrote, "I am very dependent upon
women (I mean female society)." Less than four months later, Thayer introduced Eliot
to Vivienne Haigh-Wood, a Cambridge governess. They were married at Hampstead Register
Office on 26 June 1915.
The marriage was markedly unhappy, in part because of Vivienne's health issues. In a letter
addressed to Ezra Pound, she covers an extensive list of her symptoms, which included a
habitually high temperature, fatigue, insomnia, migraines, and colitis.
[28]
This, coupled with
apparent mental instability, meant that she was often sent away by Eliot and her doctors for
extended periods of time in the hope of improving her health, and as time went on, he became
increasingly detached from her. Their relationship became the subject of a 1984 play Tom
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv"& HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_%26_Viv" Viv, which in 1994 was adapted as a film.
In a private paper written in his sixties, Eliot confessed: "I came to persuade myself that I was in
love with Vivienne simply because I wanted to burn my boats and commit myself to staying in
England. And she persuaded herself (also under the influence of [Ezra] Pound) that she would
save the poet by keeping him in England. To her, the marriage brought no happiness. To me, it
brought the state of mind out of which came The Waste Land."
Teaching, Lloyds, Faber and Faber
• After leaving Merton, Eliot worked as a schoolteacher, most notably at Highgate School,
a private school in London, where he taught French and Latin—his students included the
young John Betjeman.
[3]
Later he taught at the Royal Grammar School, High Wycombe,
a state school in Buckinghamshire. To earn extra money, he wrote book reviews and

144. lectured at evening extension courses. In 1917, he took a position at Lloyds Bank in
London, working on foreign accounts.
• On a trip to Paris in August 1920 with the artist Wyndham Lewis, he met the
writer James Joyce. Eliot said he found Joyce arrogant—Joyce doubted Eliot's ability as a
poet at the time—but the two soon became friends, with Eliot visiting Joyce whenever he
was in Paris.
[30]
Eliot andWyndham Lewis also maintained a close friendship, leading to
Lewis's later making his well-known portrait painting of Eliot in 1938.
• Charles Whibley recommended T.S. Eliot to Geoffrey Faber.
[31]
In 1925 Eliot left Lloyds
to join the publishing firm Faber and Gwyer, later Faber and Faber, where he remained
for the rest of his career, eventually becoming a director. At Faber and Faber, he was
responsible for publishing important English poets like W.H. Auden, Stephen Spender,
and Ted Hughes.
Conversion to Anglicanism and British citizenship
n 29 June 1927, Eliot converted to Anglicanism from Unitarianism, and in November that year
he took British citizenship. He became awarden of his parish church, Saint Stephen's, Gloucester
Road, London, and a life member of the Society of King Charles the Martyr. He specifically
identified as Anglo-Catholic, proclaiming himself "classicist in literature, royalist in politics, and
anglo-catholic [sic] in religion". About thirty years later Eliot commented on his religious views
that he combined "a Catholic cast of mind, a Calvinist heritage, and a Puritanical
temperament". He also had wider spiritual interests, commenting that "I see the path of progress
for modern man in his occupation with his own self, with his inner being" and
citing Goethe and Rudolf Steiner as exemplars of such a direction.
One of Eliot's biographers, Peter Ackroyd, commented that "the purposes of [Eliot's conversion]
were two-fold. One: the Church of England offered Eliot some hope for himself, and I think Eliot
needed some resting place. But secondly, it attached Eliot to the English community and English
culture."
Separation and remarriage
By 1932, Eliot had been contemplating a separation from his wife for some time. When Harvard
offered him the Charles Eliot Nortonprofessorship for the 1932–1933 academic year, he accepted
and left Vivienne in England. Upon his return, he arranged for a formal separation from her,
avoiding all but one meeting with her between his leaving for America in 1932 and her death in
1947. Vivienne was committed to the Northumberland House mental hospital, Stoke Newington,
in 1938, and remained there until she died. Although Eliot was still legally her husband, he never
visited her.
From 1938 to 1957 Eliot's public companion was Mary Trevelyan of London University, who
wanted to marry him and left a detailed memoir.
From 1946 to 1957, Eliot shared a flat with his friend John Davy Hayward, who collected and
managed Eliot's papers, styling himself "Keeper of the Eliot Archive". Hayward also collected

145. Eliot's pre-Prufrock verse, commercially published after Eliot's death as Poems Written in Early
Youth. When Eliot and Hayward separated their household in 1957, Hayward retained his
collection of Eliot's papers, which he bequeathed to King's College, Cambridge, in 1965.
On 10 January 1957, at the age of 68, Eliot married Esmé Valerie Fletcher, who was 30. In
contrast to his first marriage, Eliot knew Fletcher well, as she had been his secretary at Faber and
Faber since August 1949. They kept their wedding secret; the ceremony was held in a church at
6:15 am with virtually no one in attendance other than his wife's parents. Eliot had no children
with either of his wives. In the early 1960s, by then in failing health, Eliot worked as an editor
for the Wesleyan University Press, seeking new poets in Europe for publication. After Eliot's
death, Valerie dedicated her time to preserving his legacy, by editing and annotating The Letters
of T. S. Eliot and a facsimile of the draft of The Waste Land.
[45]
Valerie Eliot died on 9
November 2012 at her home in London.
Death and honours
For many years Eliot had suffered from lung-related health problems
including bronchitis and tachycardia caused by heavy smoking.
[citation needed]
He died
of emphysema at his home in Kensington in London, on 4 January 1965, and was cremated
at Golders Green Crematorium. In accordance with his wishes, his ashes were taken to St
Michael and All Angels' Church, East Coker, the village in Somerset from which his Eliot
ancestors had emigrated to America. A wall plaque commemorates him with a quotation from
his poem "East Coker", "In my beginning is my end. In my end is my beginning."
In 1967, on the second anniversary of his death, Eliot was commemorated by the installation of a
large stone in the floor of Poets' Cornerin London's Westminster Abbey. The stone, cut by
designer Reynolds Stone, is inscribed with his life dates, his Order of Merit, and a quotation
from his poem "Little Gidding", "the communication / of the dead is tongued with fire beyond /
the language of the living."
[47]

The house where he died, No. 3 Kensington Court Gardens, has had a blue plaque on it since
1986.
Poetry
For a poet of his stature, Eliot produced a relatively small number of poems. He was aware of
this even early in his career. He wrote to J.H. Woods, one of his former Harvard professors, "My
reputation in London is built upon one small volume of verse, and is kept up by printing two or
three more poems in a year. The only thing that matters is that these should be perfect in their
kind, so that each should be an event."
[49]

Typically, Eliot first published his poems individually in periodicals or in small books or
pamphlets, and then collected them in books. His first collection was Prufrock and Other
Observations (1917). In 1920, he published more poems in Ara Vos Prec (London) and Poems:
1920 (New York). These had the same poems (in a different order) except that "Ode" in the
British edition was replaced with "Hysteria" in the American edition. In 1925, he collected The

146. Waste Land and the poems in Prufrock and Poems into one volume and added The Hollow
Men to form Poems: 1909–1925. From then on, he updated this work as Collected Poems.
Exceptions are Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (1939), a collection of light verse; Poems
Written in Early Youth, posthumously published in 1967 and consisting mainly of poems
published between 1907 and 1910 in The Harvard Advocate, and Inventions of the March Hare:
Poems 1909–1917, material Eliot never intended to have published, which appeared
posthumously in 1997.
[50]

During an interview in 1959, Eliot said of his nationality and its role in his work: "I'd say that my
poetry has obviously more in common with my distinguished contemporaries in America than
with anything written in my generation in England. That I'm sure of. ... It wouldn't be what it is,
and I imagine it wouldn't be so good; putting it as modestly as I can, it wouldn't be what it is if
I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination
of things. But in its sources, in its emotional springs, it comes from America."
[51]

It must also be acknowledged, as Chinmoy Guha showed in his book Where the Dreams Cross:
T S Eliot and French Poetry (Macmillan, 2011), that he was deeply influenced by French poets
from Baudelaire to Paul Valéry. He himself wrote in his 1940 essay on W.B. Yeats: "The kind of
poetry that I needed to teach me the use of my own voice did not exist in English at all; it was
only to be found in French." (On Poetry and Poets, 1948)
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
In 1915, Ezra Pound, overseas editor of Poetry HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_magazine"magazine, recommended to Harriet Monroe, the
magazine's founder, that she publish "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". Although the
character Prufrock seems to be middle-aged, Eliot wrote most of the poem when he was only
twenty-two. Its now-famous opening lines, comparing the evening sky to "a patient etherised
upon a table", were considered shocking and offensive, especially at a time when Georgian
Poetry was hailed for its derivations of the nineteenth centuryRomantic Poets.
The poem follows the conscious experience of a man, Prufrock (relayed in the "stream of
consciousness" form characteristic of the Modernists), lamenting his physical and intellectual
inertia with the recurrent theme of carnal love unattained. Critical opinion is divided as to
whether the narrator leaves his residence during the course of the narration. The locations
described can be interpreted either as actual physical experiences, mental recollections, or as
symbolic images from the unconscious mind, as, for example, in the refrain "In the room the
women come and go".

147. The poem's structure was heavily influenced by Eliot's extensive reading of Dante and refers to a
number of literary works, including Hamlet and those of the French Symbolists. Its reception in
London can be gauged from an unsigned review in The Times Literary Supplement on 21 June
1917. "The fact that these things occurred to the mind of Mr. Eliot is surely of the very smallest
importance to anyone, even to himself. They certainly have no relation to poetry."
[
The Waste Land
In October 1922, Eliot published The Waste Land in The Criterion. Eliot's dedication to il
miglior fabbro ("the better craftsman") refers to Ezra Pound's significant hand in editing and
reshaping the poem from a longer Eliot manuscript to the shortened version that appears in
publication.
[53]

It was composed during a period of personal difficulty for Eliot—his marriage was failing, and
both he and Vivienne were suffering from nervous disorders. The poem is often read as a
representation of the disillusionment of the post-war generation. Before the poem's publication as
a book in December 1922, Eliot distanced himself from its vision of despair. On 15 November
1922, he wrote to Richard Aldington, saying, "As for The Waste Land, that is a thing of the past
so far as I am concerned and I am now feeling toward a new form and style."
[54]

The poem is known for its obscure nature—its slippage between satire and prophecy; its abrupt
changes of speaker, location, and time. This structural complexity is one of the reasons that the
poem has become a touchstone of modern literature, a poetic counterpart to a novel published in
the same year, James Joyce's Ulysses.
[55]

Among its best-known phrases are "April is the cruellest month", "I will show you fear in a
handful of dust" and "Shantih shantih shantih". The Sanskrit mantra ends the poem.
The Hollow Men
The Hollow Men appeared in 1925. For the critic Edmund Wilson, it marked "The nadir of the
phase of despair and desolation given such effective expression in The Waste Land."
[56]
It is
Eliot's major poem of the late 1920s. Similar to Eliot's other works, its themes are overlapping
and fragmentary. Post-war Europe under the Treaty of HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Versailles" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Versailles" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Versailles"Versailles(which Eliot despised), the
difficulty of hope and religious conversion, Eliot's failed marriage.
[57]

Allen Tate perceived a shift in Eliot's method, writing that, "The mythologies disappear
altogether in The Hollow Men." This is a striking claim for a poem as indebted to Dante as
anything else in Eliot's early work, to say little of the modern English mythology—the "Old Guy
Fawkes" of the Gunpowder Plot—or the colonial and agrarian mythos of Joseph
Conrad and James George Frazer, which, at least for reasons of textual history, echo in The
Waste Land.
[58]
The "continuous parallel between contemporaneity and antiquity" that is so

148. characteristic of his mythical method remained in fine form.
[59]
The Hollow Men contains some
of Eliot's most famous lines, notably its conclusion:
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Ash-Wednesday
Ash-Wednesday is the first long poem written by Eliot after his 1927 conversion to Anglicanism.
Published in 1930, it deals with the struggle that ensues when one who has lacked faith acquires
it. Sometimes referred to as Eliot's "conversion poem", it is richly but ambiguously allusive, and
deals with the aspiration to move from spiritual barrenness to hope for human salvation. Eliot's
style of writing in Ash-Wednesday showed a marked shift from the poetry he had written prior to
his 1927 conversion, and his post-conversion style would continue in a similar vein. His style
was to become less ironic, and the poems would no longer be populated by multiple characters in
dialogue. His subject matter would also become more focused on Eliot's spiritual concerns and
his Christian faith.
Many critics were particularly enthusiastic about Ash-Wednesday. Edwin Muir maintained that it
is one of the most moving poems Eliot wrote, and perhaps the "most perfect", though it was not
well received by everyone. The poem's groundwork of orthodox Christianity discomfited many
of the more secular literati.
[3 HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot"] HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot"[60]

Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats
In 1939, Eliot published a book of light verse, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats ("Old
Possum" was Ezra Pound's nickname for him). This first edition had an illustration of the author
on the cover. In 1954, the composer Alan Rawsthorne set six of the poems for speaker and
orchestra in a work entitled Practical Cats. After Eliot's death, the book was adapted as the basis
of the musical Cats by Andrew Lloyd Webber, first produced in London's West End in 1981 and
opening on Broadway the following year.
Four Quartets
Eliot regarded Four Quartets as his masterpiece, and it is the work that led to his being awarded
the Nobel Prize in Literature.
[3]
It consists of four long poems, each first published
separately: Burnt Norton (1936), East Coker (1940), The Dry Salvages (1941) and Little
Gidding (1942). Each has five sections. Although they resist easy characterisation, each poem
includes meditations on the nature of time in some important respect—theological, historical,
physical—and its relation to the human condition. Each poem is associated with one of the
four classical elements: air, earth, water, and fire.
Burnt Norton is a meditative poem that begins with the narrator trying to focus on the present
moment while walking through a garden, focusing on images and sounds like the bird, the roses,

149. clouds, and an empty pool. The narrator's meditation leads him/her to reach "the still point" in
which he doesn't try to get anywhere or to experience place and/or time, instead experiencing "a
grace of sense". In the final section, the narrator contemplates the arts ("Words" and "music") as
they relate to time. The narrator focuses particularly on the poet's art of manipulating "Words
[which] strain, / Crack and sometimes break, under the burden [of time], under the tension, slip,
slide, perish, decay with imprecision, [and] will not stay in place, / Will not stay still." By
comparison, the narrator concludes that "Love is itself unmoving, / Only the cause and end of
movement, / Timeless, and undesiring."
East Coker continues the examination of time and meaning, focusing in a famous passage on the
nature of language and poetry. Out of darkness, Eliot offers a solution: "I said to my soul, be
still, and wait without hope."
The Dry Salvages treats the element of water, via images of river and sea. It strives to contain
opposites: "The past and future / Are conquered, and reconciled."
Little Gidding (the element of fire) is the most anthologised of the Quartets. Eliot's experiences
as an air raid warden in The Blitz power the poem, and he imagines meeting Danteduring the
German bombing. The beginning of the Quartets ("Houses / Are removed, destroyed") had
become a violent everyday experience; this creates an animation, where for the first time he talks
of Love as the driving force behind all experience. From this background, the Quartets end with
an affirmation of Julian of Norwich: "All shall be well and / All manner of thing shall be well."
The Four Quartets cannot be understood without reference to Christian thought, traditions, and
history. Eliot draws upon the theology, art, symbolism and language of such figures as Dante,
and mystics St. John of the Cross and Julian of Norwich. The "deeper communion" sought
in East Coker, the "hints and whispers of children, the sickness that must grow worse in order to
find healing", and the exploration which inevitably leads us home all point to the pilgrim's path
along the road of sanctification.
Plays
With the important exception of Four Quartets, Eliot directed much of his creative energies
after Ash Wednesday to writing plays in verse, mostly comedies or plays with redemptive
endings. He was long a critic and admirer of Elizabethan and Jacobean verse drama; witness his
allusions to Webster, Thomas Middleton, William Shakespeare andThomas Kyd in The Waste
Land. In a 1933 lecture he said "Every poet would like, I fancy, to be able to think that he had
some direct social utility . . . . He would like to be something of a popular entertainer, and be
able to think his own thoughts behind a tragic or a comic mask. He would like to convey the
pleasures of poetry, not only to a larger audience, but to larger groups of people collectively; and
the theatre is the best place in which to do it."
[61]

After The Waste Land (1922), he wrote that he was "now feeling toward a new form and style".
One project he had in mind was writing a play in verse, using some of the rhythms of early jazz.
The play featured "Sweeney", a character who had appeared in a number of his poems. Although
Eliot did not finish the play, he did publish two scenes from the piece. These scenes,

150. titled Fragment of a Prologue (1926) and Fragment of an Agon (1927), were published together
in 1932 as Sweeney Agonistes. Although Eliot noted that this was not intended to be a one-act
play, it is sometimes performed as one.
[11]

A pageant play by Eliot called The Rock was performed in 1934 for the benefit of churches in
the Diocese of London. Much of it was a collaborative effort; Eliot accepted credit only for the
authorship of one scene and the choruses.
[11]
George Bell, the Bishop of Chichester, had been
instrumental in connecting Eliot with producer E. Martin Browne for the production of The Rock,
and later commissioned Eliot to write another play for the Canterbury Festival in 1935. This
one, Murder in the Cathedral, concerning the death of the martyr, Thomas Becket, was more
under Eliot's control. Eliot biographer Peter Ackroyd comments that "for [Eliot], Murder in the
Cathedral and succeeding verse plays offered a double advantage; it allowed him to practice
poetry but it also offered a convenient home for his religious sensibility."
[32]
After this, he
worked on more "commercial" plays for more general audiences: The Family
Reunion (1939), The Cocktail Party (1949), The Confidential Clerk, (1953) and The Elder
Statesman (1958) (the latter three were produced by Henry Sherek and directed by E. Martin
Browne
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._Martin_Browne" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot"
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._Martin_Browne"[62]
). The Broadway production in New York of The
Cocktail Party received the 1950 Tony Award for Best Play.
Regarding his method of playwriting, Eliot explained, "If I set out to write a play, I start by an
act of choice. I settle upon a particular emotional situation, out of which characters and a plot
will emerge. And then lines of poetry may come into being: not from the original impulse but
from a secondary stimulation of the unconscious mind."
[32]

Literary criticism
Eliot also made significant contributions to the field of literary criticism, strongly influencing the
school of New Criticism. While somewhat self-deprecating and minimising of his work—he
once said his criticism was merely a "by-product" of his "private poetry-workshop"—Eliot is
considered by some to be one of the greatest literary critics of the twentieth century.
[63]
The
critic William Empson once said, "I do not know for certain how much of my own mind [Eliot]
invented, let alone how much of it is a reaction against him or indeed a consequence of
misreading him. He is a very penetrating influence, perhaps not unlike the east wind."
[64]

In his critical essay "Tradition and the Individual Talent", Eliot argues that art must be
understood not in a vacuum, but in the context of previous pieces of art. "In a peculiar sense [an
artist or poet] ... must inevitably be judged by the standards of the past."
[63]
This essay was an
important influence over the New Criticism by introducing the idea that the value of a work of
art must be viewed in the context of the artist's previous works, a "simultaneous order" of works
(i.e., "tradition"). Eliot himself employed this concept on many of his works, especially on his
long-poem The Waste Land.
[65]

Also important to New Criticism was the idea—as articulated in Eliot's essay "Hamlet and His
Problems"—of an "objective correlative", which posits a connection among the words of the text

151. and events, states of mind, and experiences.
[66]
This notion concedes that a poem means what it
says, but suggests that there can be a non-subjective judgment based on different readers'
different—but perhaps corollary—interpretations of a work.
More generally, New Critics took a cue from Eliot in regard to his "'classical' ideals and his
religious thought; his attention to the poetry and drama of the early seventeenth century; his
deprecation of the Romantics, especially Shelley; his proposition that good poems constitute 'not
a turning loose of emotion but an escape from emotion'; and his insistence that 'poets... at present
must be difficult'."
[67]

Eliot's essays were a major factor in the revival of interest in the metaphysical poets. Eliot
particularly praised the metaphysical poets' ability to show experience as both psychological and
sensual, while at the same time infusing this portrayal with—in Eliot's view—wit and
uniqueness. Eliot's essay "The Metaphysical Poets", along with giving new significance and
attention to metaphysical poetry, introduced his now well-known definition of "unified
sensibility", which is considered by some to mean the same thing as the term "metaphysical".
[68
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His 1922 poem The Waste Land
[70]
also can be better understood in light of his work as a critic.
He had argued that a poet must write "programmatic criticism", that is, a poet should write to
advance his own interests rather than to advance "historical scholarship". Viewed from Eliot's
critical lens, The Waste Land likely shows his personal despair aboutWorld War I rather than an
objective historical understanding of it.
[71]

Late in his career, Eliot focused much of his creative energy on writing for the theatre, and some
of his critical writing, in essays like "Poetry and Drama," "Hamlet and his Problems," and "The
Possibility of a Poetic Drama," focused on the aesthetics of writing drama in verse.
Critical reception
Responses to his poetry
The writer Ronald Bush notes that Eliot's early poems like "The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock", "Portrait of a Lady", "La Figlia Che Piange", "Preludes", and "Rhapsody on a Windy
Night" had "[an] effect [that] was both unique and compelling, and their assurance staggered
[Eliot's] contemporaries who were privileged to read them in manuscript. [Conrad] Aiken, for
example, marveled at 'how sharp and complete and sui generis the whole thing was, from the
outset. The wholeness is there, from the very beginning.'"
[72]

The initial critical response to Eliot's "The Waste Land" was mixed. Ronald Bush notes that
"'The Waste Land' was at first correctly perceived as a work of jazz-like syncopation—and, like
1920s jazz, essentially iconoclastic."
[72]
Some critics, like Edmund Wilson, Conrad Aiken,
and Gilbert Seldes thought it was the best poetry being written in the English language while
others thought it was esoteric and wilfully difficult. Edmund Wilson, being one of the critics who
praised Eliot, called him "one of our only authentic poets".
[73 HYPERLINK

152. "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot"]
Wilson also pointed out some of Eliot's weaknesses as a poet. In
regard to "The Waste Land", Wilson admits its flaws ("its lack of structural unity"), but
concluded, "I doubt whether there is a single other poem of equal length by a contemporary
American which displays so high and so varied a mastery of English verse."
[73]

Charles Powell was negative in his criticism of Eliot, calling his poems
incomprehensible.
[74]
And the writers of Time magazine were similarly baffled by a challenging
poem like "The Waste Land".
[75]
John Crowe Ransom wrote negative criticisms of Eliot's work
but also had positive things to say. For instance, though Ransom negatively criticised "The
Waste Land" for its "extreme disconnection", Ransom was not completely condemnatory of
Eliot's work and admitted that Eliot was a talented poet.
[76]

Addressing some of the common criticisms directed against "The Waste Land" at the time,
Gilbert Seldes stated, "It seems at first sight remarkably disconnected and confused... [however]
a closer view of the poem does more than illuminate the difficulties; it reveals the hidden form of
the work, [and] indicates how each thing falls into place."
[77]

Following the publication of The Four Quartets, Eliot's reputation as a poet, as well as his
influence in the academy, was at its peak. In an essay on Eliot published in 1989, the
writer Cynthia Ozick refers to this peak of influence (from the 1940s through the early 1960s) as
"the Age of Eliot" when Eliot "seemed pure zenith, a colossus, nothing less than a permanent
luminary, fixed in the firmament like the sun and the moon".
[78]
But during this post-war period,
others, like Ronald Bush, observed that this time also marked the beginning of the decline in
Eliot's literary influence:
As Eliot's conservative religious and political convictions began to seem less congenial in the
postwar world, other readers reacted with suspicion to his assertions of authority, obvious
in Four Quartets and implicit in the earlier poetry. The result, fueled by intermittent rediscovery
of Eliot's occasional anti-Semitic rhetoric, has been a progressive downward revision of his once
towering reputation.
[72]

Bush also notes that Eliot's reputation "slipped" significantly further after his death. He writes,
"Sometimes regarded as too academic (William Carlos Williams's view), Eliot was also
frequently criticized for a deadening neoclassicism (as he himself—perhaps just as unfairly—had
criticized Milton). However, the multifarious tributes from practicing poets of many schools
published during his centenary in 1988 was a strong indication of the intimidating continued
presence of his poetic voice."
[72]

Although Eliot's poetry is not as influential as it once was, notable literary scholars, like Harold
Bloom
HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Bloom" HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Bloom"[79]
and Stephen Greenblatt,
[80]
still acknowledge that Eliot's
poetry is central to the literary English canon. For instance, the editors of The Norton Anthology
of English Literature write, "There is no disagreement on [Eliot's] importance as one of the great
renovators of the English poetry dialect, whose influence on a whole generation of poets, critics,

153. and intellectuals generally was enormous. [However] his range as a poet [was] limited, and his
interest in the great middle ground of human experience (as distinct from the extremes of saint
and sinner) [was] deficient." Despite this criticism, these scholars also acknowledge "[Eliot's]
poetic cunning, his fine craftsmanship, his original accent, his historical and representative
importance as the poet of the modern symbolist-Metaphysical tradition".
[81]

Allegations of anti-Semitism
The depiction of Jews in some of Eliot's poems has led several critics to accuse him of anti-
Semitism. This case has been presented most forcefully in a study by Anthony Julius:T. S. Eliot,
Anti-Semitism, and Literary Form (1996).
[82 HYPERLINK "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot" HYPERLINK
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"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._S._Eliot"[83]
In "Gerontion", Eliot writes, in the voice of the poem's elderly
narrator, "And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner [of my building] / Spawned in some
estaminet of Antwerp."
[84]
Another well-known example appears in the poem, "Burbank with a
Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar". In this poem, Eliot wrote, "The rats are underneath the piles. /
The jew is underneath the lot. / Money in furs."
[85]
Interpreting the line as an indirect comparison
of Jews to rats, Julius writes, "The anti-Semitism is unmistakable. It reaches out like a clear
signal to the reader." Julius's viewpoint has been supported by literary critics such as Harold
Bloom,
[86]
Christopher Ricks,
[87]
George Steiner,
[87]
Tom Paulin
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"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Paulin"[88]
and James Fenton.
[87]

In a series of lectures delivered at the University of Virginia in 1933, published under the
title After Strange Gods: A Primer of Modern Heresy (1934), Eliot wrote of societal tradition and
coherence, "What is still more important [than cultural homogeneity] is unity of religious
background, and reasons of race and religion combine to make any large number of free-thinking
Jews undesirable."
[89]
Eliot never re-published this book/lecture.
[87]
In his 1934 pageant play The
Rock, Eliot distances himself from Fascist movements of the thirties by caricaturing Oswald
Mosley's Blackshirts, who 'firmly refuse/ To descend to palaver with anthropoid Jews'.
[90]
The
'new evangels'
[91]
of totalitarianism are presented as antithetic to the spirit of Christianity.
Craig Raine, in his books In Defence of T. S. Eliot (2001) and T. S. Eliot (2006), sought to defend
Eliot from the charge of anti-Semitism. Reviewing the 2006 book, Paul Dean stated that he was
not convinced by Raine's argument. Nevertheless, he concluded, "Ultimately, as both Raine and,
to do him justice, Julius insist, however much Eliot may have been compromised as a person, as
we all are in our several ways, his greatness as a poet remains."
[87]
In another review of Raine's
2006 book, the literary critic Terry Eagletonalso questioned the validity of Raine's defence of
Eliot's character flaws as well as the entire basis for Raine's book, writing, "Why do critics feel a
need to defend the authors they write on, like doting parents deaf to all criticism of their
obnoxious children? Eliot's well-earned reputation [as a poet] is established beyond all doubt,
and making him out to be as unflawed as the Archangel Gabriel does him no favours."
[92]

154. Influence
Eliot's influence extended beyond the English language. His work, in particular The Waste
Land but also The Hollow Men and Ash Wednesday strongly influenced the poetry of two of the
most significant post-War Irish language poets, Seán Ó Ríordáin and Máirtín Ó Díreáin as well
as The Weekend of Dermot and Grace (1964) by Eoghan O Tuairisc.
[93]
Eliot additionally
influenced, among many others, Virginia Woolf, Ezra Pound, Hart Crane, William Gaddis, Allen
Tate, Ted Hughes, Geoffrey Hill, Seamus Heaney, Kamau Brathwaite,
[94]
Russell
Kirk,
[95]
George Seferis (who in 1936 published a modern Greek translation of The Waste Land,)
and James Joyce
[


Works
Earliest works
• Prose
• "The Birds of Prey" (a short story; 1905)
[98]

• "A Tale of a Whale" (a short story; 1905)
• "The Man Who Was King" (a short story; 1905)
[99]

• [A review of] "The Wine and the Puritans" (1909)
• "The Point of View" (1909)
• "Gentlemen and Seamen" (1909)
• [A review of] "Egoist" (1909)
• Poems
• "A Fable for Feasters" (1905)
• "[A Lyric:]'If Time and Space as Sages say'" (1905)
• "[At Graduation 1905]" (1905)
• "Song:'If space and time,as sages say'" (1907)
• "Before Morning" (1908)
• "Circe's Palace" (1908)
• "Song: 'When we came home across the hill'" (1909)
• "On a Portrait" (1909)
• "Nocturne" (1909)
• "Humoresque" (1910)
• "Spleen" (1910)
• "[Class]Ode" (1910)
Poetry
• Prufrock and Other Observations (1917)

155. • The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
• Portrait of a Lady (poem)
• Aunt Helen
• Poems (1920)
• Gerontion
• Sweeney Among the Nightingales
• " HYPERLINK "http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html"
HYPERLINK "http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html" HYPERLINK
"http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html"The Hippopotamus
HYPERLINK "http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html" HYPERLINK
"http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html" HYPERLINK
"http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/the_hippopotamus.html""
• "Whispers of Immortality"
• "Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service"
• "A Cooking Egg"
• The Waste Land (1922)
• The Hollow Men (1925)
• Ariel Poems (1927–1954)
• Journey of the Magi (1927)
• A Song for Simeon (1928)
• Ash Wednesday (1930)
• Coriolan (1931)
• Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (1939)
• The Marching Song of the Pollicle Dogs and Billy M'Caw: The Remarkable Parrot (1939)
inThe Queen's Book of the Red Cross
• Four Quartets (1945)
Plays
• Sweeney Agonistes (published in 1926, first performed in 1934)
• The Rock (1934)
• Murder in the Cathedral (1935)
• The Family Reunion (1939)
• The Cocktail Party (1949)
• The Confidential Clerk (1953)
• The Elder Statesman (first performed in 1958, published in 1959)
Nonfiction
• Christianity & Culture (1939, 1948)

156. • The Second-Order Mind (1920)
• Tradition and the Individual Talent (1920)
• The Sacred Wood: Essays on Poetry and Criticism (1920)
• "Hamlet and His Problems"
• Homage to John Dryden (1924)
• Shakespeare and the Stoicism of Seneca (1928)
• For Lancelot Andrewes (1928)
• Dante (1929)
• Selected Essays, 1917 HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selected_Essays,_1917%E2%80%931932"– HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selected_Essays,_1917%E2%80%931932"1932 (1932)
• The Use of Poetry and the Use of Criticism (1933)
• After Strange Gods (1934)
• Elizabethan Essays (1934)
• Essays Ancient and Modern (1936)
• The Idea of a Christian Society (1939)
• A Choice of Kipling's Verse (1941) made by Eliot, with an essay on Rudyard Kipling,
London, Faber and Faber.
• Notes Towards the Definition of Culture (1948)
• Poetry and Drama (1951)
• The Three Voices of Poetry (1954)
• The Frontiers of Criticism (1956)
• On Poetry and Poets (1957)
Posthumous publications
• To Criticize the Critic (1965)
• The Waste Land: Facsimile Edition (1974)
• Inventions of the March Hare: Poems 1909–1917 (1996)
Murder in the Cathedral
• A verse drama by T. S. Eliot
• The play portrays the assassination of Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury
Cathedral in 1170.
• First performed in 1935.
• Eliot drew heavily on the writing of Edward Grim, a clerk who was an eyewitness to the
event.
• The play, dealing with an individual's opposition to authority, was written at the time of
rising fascism in Central Europe.

157. • Some material that the producer asked Eliot to remove or replace during the writing was
transformed into the poem "Burnt Norton".
• The action occurs between 2 and 29 December 1170, chronicling the days leading up to
the martyrdom of Thomas Becket following his absence of seven years in France.
• Becket's internal struggle is the main focus of the play.
• The book is divided into two parts.
• Part one takes place in the Archbishop Thomas Becket's hall on 2 December 1170.
• The play begins with a Chorus singing, foreshadowing the coming violence.
• The Chorus is a key part of the drama, with its voice changing and developing during the
play, offering comments about the action and providing a link between the audience and
the characters and action, as in Greek drama.
• Three priests are present, and they reflect on the absence of Becket and the rise of
temporal power.
• A herald announces Becket’s arrival.
• Becket is immediately reflective about his coming martyrdom, which he embraces, and
which is understood to be a sign of his own selfishness—his fatal weakness.
• The tempters arrive, three of whom parallel the Temptations of Christ.
• The first tempter offers the prospect of physical safety.
• Take a friend's advice. Leave well alone,
Or your goose may be cooked and eaten to the bone.
• The second offers power, riches and fame in serving the King.
• To set down the great, protect the poor,
Beneath the throne of God can man do more?

• The third tempter suggests a coalition with the barons and a chance to resist the King.
• For us, Church favour would be an advantage,
Blessing of Pope powerful protection
In the fight for liberty. You, my Lord,
In being with us, would fight a good stroke
• Finally, a fourth tempter urges him to seek the glory of martyrdom.
• You hold the keys of heaven and hell.
Power to bind and loose : bind, Thomas, bind,
King and bishop under your heel.
King, emperor, bishop, baron, king:
• Becket responds to all of the tempters and specifically addresses the immoral suggestions
of the fourth tempter at the end of the first act:

158. • Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:
Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:
To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
• The Interlude of the play is a sermon given by Becket on Christmas morning 1170.
• It is about the strange contradiction that Christmas is a day both of mourning and
rejoicing, which Christians also do for martyrs. He announces at the end of his sermon,
"it is possible that in a short time you may have yet another martyr".
• We see in the sermon something of Becket's ultimate peace of mind, as he elects not to
seek sainthood, but to accept his death as inevitable and part of a better whole.
• Part II of the play takes place in the Archbishop's Hall and in the Cathedral, 29
December 1170.
• Four knights arrive with "Urgent business" from the king. These knights had heard the
king speak of his frustration with Becket, and had interpreted this as an order to kill
Becket.
• They accuse him of betrayal, and he claims to be loyal. He tells them to accuse him in
public, and they make to attack him, but priests intervene.
• The priests insist that he leave and protect himself, but he refuses. The knights leave and
Becket again says he is ready to die.
• The chorus sings that they knew this conflict was coming, that it had long been in the
fabric of their lives, both temporal and spiritual. The chorus again reflects on the coming
devastation.
• Thomas is taken to the Cathedral, where the knights break in and kill him.
• The chorus laments: “Clean the air! Clean the sky!", and "The land is foul, the water
is foul, our beasts and ourselves defiled with blood."
• At the close of the play, the knights step up, address the audience, and defend their
actions.
• The murder was all right and for the best: it was in the right spirit, sober, and justified so
that the church's power would not undermine stability and state power.
Part I
Summary
The scene is the Archbishop's Hall in Canterbury, December 2, 1170. A group of Canterbury's
women find themselves inexplicably drawn to the cathedral, filled with foreboding. Three priests
also arrive, wondering about the circumstances surrounding the imminent return of Archbishop
Thomas Becket to Canterbury. Becket has been in exile for seven years; now he is to return,
supposedly reconciled to the king, whose authority Becket opposed in defense of the church's
sovereignty and the Pope's authority. A messenger informs the priests that Becket draws close to
the city, urging them to prepare to meet him. He reports that crowds are welcoming Becket with
wild abandon and great devotion. He also, however, hints at trouble on the horizon: he relates
how Becket told the king, "I leave you as a man / Whom in this life I shall not see again." The

159. messenger allows that none know precisely what Becket's words meant, but "no one considers it
a happy prognostic." The priests recognize that, "[f]or good or ill," Becket's return will set a
chain of events into motion: "For ill or good, let the wheel turn."
The women return, imploring Becket not to return, for he brings doom with him. One of the
priests admonishes them to keep silent-but he, in turn, is himself admonished by the returning
archbishop. He tells the priest that the women of Canterbury "speak better than they know" and
speaks of suffering: it is necessary "[t]hat the pattern [i.e., of life] may subsist."-that is, to exist,
to continue, to make sense. He knows, as do the women, that his return will bring suffering, even
if he does not know exactly what shape that suffering will take.
Becket's suffering begins when four figures of temptation appear to him. The first advises Becket
to abandon his serious insistence on ecclesiastical independence and authority in favor of a life
of pleasure, like the life he knew and enjoyed as the king's chancellor. The second urges Becket
to acquire and exercise temporal power to achieve his aims. The third appeals to Becket as "a
rough straightforward Englishman," enticing the archbishop to betray the king. Becket remains
steadfast in the face of all these temptations. A fourth tempter, however, comes closest to pulling
Becket astray. He urges the archbishop to embrace actively the role of martyr in order to win
heavenly glory, asking him, "What earthly glory, of king or emperor, / What earthly pride, that is
not poverty / Compared with richness of heavenly grandeur?" But Becket resists this temptation
also, knowing that, if he is indeed to become a martyr, it must not be for reasons of personal
pride: "The last temptation is the greatest treason: / To do the right deed for the wrong reason."
Knowing that he is not consumed by pride, confident that he is serving the "greater cause" of
God and God's church, Becket prepares to meet the fate he knows awaits him, confident that "my
good Angel, whom God appoints / To be my guardian, hover over the swords' points."
Analysis
Ostensibly set on December 2, 1170, Part I of Eliot's drama effectively stands outside of time.
The opening chorus gives voice to the non-temporal qualities of the scene, and, indeed, of the
entire play. The women allude to the passage of time-"Since golden October declined into
sombre November."-but state also, "The New Year waits, breathes, waits." (p. 11). Dramatically
speaking, time seems to have stopped; the "wheel" (to use one of the play's dominant images)
has ceased turning. This impression of time having stopped probably serves to dramatize the
nature of the events about to transpire as a turning point: as the women say, "[d]estiny waits for
the coming" (p. 12). As they put it, the women have been "[l]iving and partly living" (p. 19 et
al.). In Becket's absence, they have endured seven years of "oppression and luxury. poverty and
license." and a host of other dichotomies; but now that seemingly endless, cyclical repetition of
life's extremities, as well as the mundane existence in between them, is about to come to an end.
It is about to be interrupted. In a sense, it has finished; readers may note the ancient, symbolic
connotations of the number seven as a number of completion, even of divine wholeness (e.g., the
completion of creation in seven days according to Genesis 1; the ancient and medieval
designation of the "sevenfold" gifts of the Holy Spirit from Isaiah 11:2-3). The old way of
"living and partly living," then, has come to an end-a conclusion the women are neither entirely
comfortable nor overly happy about: as they lament, "We do not wish anything to happen.[A]
great fear is upon us. A fear like birth and death" (pp. 19-20). Because the women do not "wish
anything to happen," they are loathe to leave behind their half-existence in which nothing, in
fact, actually happened-in which they were simply turned upon the wheel they describe. Becket's
return threatens to upset the status quo-a common motif in the Christian tradition, out of which
Eliot wrote, following his conversion to Anglo-Catholicism in 1927. For example, consider the

160. apostle Paul's apocalyptic conviction that, because of the Resurrection of Jesus, "the present form
of this world is passing away" (1 Cor. 11:31). The imminent end of their world's present form
creates a crisis of anxiety for the Canterbury women. "[W]e are content," they say, "if we are left
alone" (p. 12). They go so far, in their second major speech, to plead with Becket: "O Thomas,
return, Archbishop; return, return"-but not the expected plea of returning to Canterbury-"return
to France" (p. 18). The chorus thus expresses a common psychological reality: it is often easier
to suffer under a known but unsatisfactory set of circumstances than to risk venturing into a new
and potentially more satisfactory but unknown set. It is often easier to remain in the past than to
move forward into the future. "Now I fear disturbance of the quiet seasons." (p. 12).
In another sense, it may be accurate to say that the play's first act is set, not in ordinary time, but
in liturgical time. (Indeed, the text very quickly foregrounds the Christian calendar in the
audience's mind, with a reference to All Hallows [p. 12], the feast day on which all saints and
martyrs, known or unknown, are celebrated.) Becket's impending arrival represents a break in
time, a rupture in history and, significantly, this first act is set during early December, what is in
the Christian liturgical calendar the season of Advent (from the Latin adventus, "coming" or
"arrival"), during which waiting for the second coming of Christ is a dominant focus.
Traditionally, then, Advent is a season for waiting: "Concerned with the Four Last Things [i.e.,
Christ's second coming, the Day of Judgment, heaven, and hell], Advent prepares for the
parousia [i.e., the Second Coming], as well as for Christmas" (Bowker 22). And while Christians
are enjoined to observe Advent with both penitence and expectancy, the Canterbury women
observe Becket's "advent" with only dread. In either case, however-whether set in ecclesiastical-
theological time or outside of time altogether-the play begins with an undeniable establishment
of temporal stillness: "The New Year waits, destiny waits for the coming." (p. 12). Further
potential allusions to Advent occur in the Messenger's first speech, as he urges the three priests
to "prepare to meet" the returning archbishop (p. 15). Given that the word "angel" derives from
the Greek word for "messenger," one might even view the Messenger's speech as an
"annunciation" of sorts, preparing the world to meet a coming savior.
The conversation among the three priests prior to Becket's return introduces a contrast between
the temporal realm and the spiritual realm. For example, the third priest criticizes temporal
authorities (picking up on the chorus' words, "Kings rule or barons rule") for governing by
"violence, duplicity and frequent malversation" (p. 14). They obey only the law of brute force; in
contrast, the first priest speculates that Becket returns with the confidence of "the power of Rome
[i.e., the Roman Catholic Church], the spiritual rule, the assurance of right, and the love of the
people" (p. 15). In short, the temporal realm is equated with force; the spiritual, with love. The
priests' conversation also raises the question of whether true peace can ever be found between
these two realms: "What peace can be found to grow between the hammer and the anvil?" (p.
15). Such "patched up" reconciliation as does exist between the archbishop and the king is
"[p]eace, but not the kiss of peace" (p. 16)-in other words, it is more of an uneasy, mutual co-
existence or toleration than an actual cessation of hostilities and restoration of relationship.
Becket's own life, of course, came to an end because of the conflicting, competing interests of
the temporal and spiritual realms; thus, Eliot's play sounds this theme early on, alerting the
audience of the central conflict to come.
The conversation among the priests also raises a second central question: Is Thomas Becket a
proud man? And, if so, in what sense? The first priest claims that Becket was proud as secular
chancellor, and is still proud as spiritual archbishop. Pride has, the priest says, been a constant in
Becket's character, whether he held temporal or spiritual office, for it was "pride always feeding

161. upon [Becket's] own virtues, / Pride drawing sustenance from impartiality, / Pride drawing
sustenance from generosity" (p. 17). The priest ties together the themes of temporal versus
spiritual power and pride when he states that Becket has always wanted to be in "subjection to
God alone." Is such dedication a form of pride in itself? Should one aspire to be completely free
of the temporal realm in order to live entirely in the spiritual? Of course, such questions' validity
depends upon the validity of the priest's assessment of Becket's character, an issue readers can
only decide for themselves as the play unfolds.
As noted above, the Chorus' second major speech is an ironic plea for Thomas' return: they wish
him to return, not to Canterbury, but to France, for they fear an upheaval in the world they have
known, even though it is but a world of "[l]iving and partly living" (p. 19). They state they have
existed in this limbo for seven years-more than a straightforward temporal reference, the number
seven, which commonly signifies completeness and wholeness in religion and mysticism, the
number seven may here mean that the time allotted for this quasi-life has reached its end;
Becket's return will, as the Third Priest says, "for good or ill, let the wheel turn" (p. 18). For an
audience versed in the Bible, the women's speech at this point may evoke the book of
Ecclesiastes, with its famous passage on the cyclical nature of time: "For everything there is a
season, and a time for every matter under heaven" (Eccl. 3:1). The writer of Ecclesiastes
(traditionally identified as King Solomon, but in the text identified only as Qohelet, "the
Teacher," 1:1 and passim.) points to a series of antitheses to support his thesis that "there is
nothing new under the sun" (1:9): he recites a litany of "a time to be born, and a time to die; a
time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted," and so forth (see 3:2-8). The Teacher
wishes to be freed from this "wheel" of time (not his phrase, but Eliot's), because he sees it as, in
effect, a curse upon humanity: God, Qohelet declares, "has put a sense of past and future into
[human beings'] minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the
end" (3:11). In other words, God implants a sense of temporality in humanity, and then frustrates
human desires to make sense of temporality. The Canterbury women, however, in contrast, long
for no such resolution. As does Qohelet, the women intone a litany of antitheses-e.g.,
"Sometimes the corn has failed us, / Sometimes the harvest is good, / One year is a year of rain, /
Another a year of dryness" (p. 19)-thus demonstrating that they share the common human
experience of sensing temporality. When an event looms, however, that could potentially serve
as a moment that reveals the "pattern of time" (p. 13), they reject it. They do not wish to know,
as Qohelet says, "what God has done." Instead, they implore Thomas to go away, for he brings a
"doom on the house, a doom on [himself], a doom on the world" (p. 19). In this speech, the word
"doom" may carry overtones not only of a disastrous end but also of the word's medieval
definition of "fate," good or ill. Becket's arrival in Canterbury is, as the women rightly perceive,
the arrival of nothing less than fate itself; yet it is an arrival they reject, preferring instead to go
on "living and partly living."
From Becket's first entrance, Eliot begins developing him as not only a Christ-figure in general
but also as an analogy of Jesus Christ himself. Priests do, of course, physically represent or
"stand in for" Jesus in many Christian traditions; so Becket is a Christ-figure in that sense
already. But Eliot wishes to draw tighter parallels. Becket's first spoken word, for instance, is
"Peace" (p. 21)-a greeting Jesus commonly uses in the gospel narratives, especially after his
Resurrection (e.g., Luke 24:36; John 20:19). Ironically, however, Jesus used this greeting to allay
his followers' fears, but Becket can be seen as confirming the fears of those who follow him: like
the women, he realizes that his return will initiate suffering. This suffering, however, is
necessary-even as Jesus' suffering was "necessary" (Luke 24:26). Becket's suffering, like Jesus',

162. will have a salvific dimension: it will allow "the wheel"-the order, the pattern of life-to "turn and
still / Be forever still" (p. 22). This admittedly difficult, oxymoronic statement may mean that,
whereas Canterbury, as symbolized in its women, has been stagnant for the past seven years,
stuck in a "peace" that really is no peace, Becket's impending suffering and death will move
Canterbury and its inhabitants to a new state of being-i.e., Becket's death will cause the wheel to
turn-and yet this new state of being truly will be peace.
The mere fact that Becket enters Eliot's drama as one who returns further develops the characters
as a Christ-figure; cf. this commentary's previous discussion of Advent as a time of preparation
for Jesus' Parousia, or "second coming." Note also the Second Priest's protestation, "Forgive us,
my Lord, you would have had a better welcome / If we had been sooner prepared for the event"
(p. 22). Becket's rooms have not been made ready, even though the priest promises he will make
them so. This exchange may bring to mind Jesus' parables of his own return: for example, "You
also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour" (Luke 12:40). Notably,
the phrase "Son of Man" has already surfaced in Eliot's text, when the Chorus asks, "Shall the
Son of Man be born again in the litter of scorn?" (p. 13). Thus Eliot has already explicitly invited
his audience to view Becket's return as an eschatological event-that is, an event which
inaugurates the eschaton, the "end times," the "last things." Eschatological events mark the end
of an old world and the birth of a new. By foregrounding biblical material surrounding the
Parousia, Eliot creates the expectation that Becket's impending suffering and death will be just
such an epochal event. The archbishop himself calls it an "end": "End will be simple, sudden,
God-given" (p. 23). Becket advises the priests to "watch" for the "consummation" of his story (p.
23)-an echo not only of Jesus' admonitions to his disciples to watch for the last day (e.g., Mark
13:37; Luke 21:36) but also of his request that the disciples watch with him in Gethsemane prior
to his arrest (Matt. 26:35-46 and parallels), a time during which Jesus was tempted to abandon
his saving mission.
Similarly and appropriately, then, Becket is tempted at this point to abandon his mission. The
Four Tempters who present themselves were intended, Eliot revealed in a prefatory note to the
third edition (1937), to be "doubled" with the roles of the Four Knights; i.e., the same actors
were to play the parts.
The First Tempter calls Becket back to the hedonistic life he lived while he was King Henry's
chancellor: "[S]hall we say that summer's over / Or that the good time cannot last?" (p. 24).
Attentive readers and audience members know that, of course, the summer has long been over
(see the Chorus' words on p. 13, "What shall we do in the heat of summer / But wait in barren
orchards for another October?," words that describe the women's present situation). Becket
cannot retreat into the past, as the Tempter advises him to do. The Tempter presents a symbolic
vision of the passing seasons that is at odds with the scheme established earlier in the drama:
where the Tempter declares that, in the reconciliation with the king, "Spring has come in winter,"
bringing rebirth with it (p. 24), Becket knows that the vision is but a "springtime fancy" (p. 26)-
that is, a fantasy, a fiction, an illusion-and adheres to the already-established motif of the seasons
as markers of a seemingly endless cycle of barren waiting-a cycle that his impending death will,
however, break. Notably, the First Tempter, like the First Priest (p. 17), accuses Becket of pride-
specifically, self-righteousness: "You were not used to be so hard upon sinners / When they were
your friends" (p. 25). He brands Becket's principles as "higher vices / Which will have to be paid
for at higher prices" (p. 26). In keeping with his frivolity (his "humble levity"), he departs Becket
with an ironic and sarcastic anticipation of Becket's canonization to come: "If you will remember
me, my Lord, at your prayers, / I'll remember you at kissing-time below the stairs" (p. 26). It is a

163. mocking allusion to the plea of people who pray for the saints' intercession; Ora pro nobis (Pray
for us). This first temptation has no unambiguous parallel in those faced by Jesus, although Jesus
was tempted to focus on physical needs when tempted to turn stones into bread (Matt. 4:1-3;
Luke 4:1-4).
The Second Tempter would have Becket shift from pursuing and using spiritual to temporal
power: "You, master of policy / Whom all acknowledged, should guide the state again" (p. 27).
He thus reintroduces the conflict between temporal and spiritual power into the play. He argues
that only power matters, not "holiness," because power can shape the world today, not in some
"hereafter" (p. 27). This argument has some appeal to Becket because he has been established as
the champion of the lowly; the Tempter tells Becket that he could again use the power of the
chancellorship to "set down the great, protect the poor, / Beneath the throne of God can man do
more?" (p. 28). The Tempter thus invokes the old, morally fallacious argument that ends justify
means. As Becket moves closer to falling into the Tempter's trap, the Tempter tells him that the
price of such power is the "[p]retence of priestly power"-he would have to give up his claims as
archbishop to spiritual authority. Only in so doing will Becket receive "the power and the glory"
(p. 29)-a phrase from the traditional, doxological conclusion of the Lord's Prayer: "For thine is
the kingdom and the power and the glory forever." These words have the effect of jolting Becket
out of his near-submission to the Tempter. They serve to remind him of where his true loyalties
lie. They may also be Eliot's echoing of such biblical commentary on the nature of power as 2
Cor. 12:9: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." Such "weak"
power is the only power Becket has been called to wield, and he will do so in facing his
martyrdom. All worldly power is as nothing compared to the power of God, as Becket knows:
"[S]hall I, who keep the keys / Of heaven and hell"-a reference to the power of pardon Jesus
grants to the Church (see Matt. 16:19; 18:18)-".Descend to desire a punier power?" (p. 30).
Becket makes clear the distinction between temporal and spiritual power: it can only guarantee
order "as the world knows order" (p. 30)-the unavoidable implication being that "order" as the
world defines it is not true order at all, just as "peace" as the world defines it is not true peace
(see Becket's earlier greeting of "Peace" as well as Jesus' words in John 14:27). Becket's second
temptation has a clear analogue in Scripture, when the devil tempts Jesus to rule over all the
kingdoms of the earth, in return for worshiping him (Matt. 4:8-10; Luke 4:5-8).
The Third Tempter styles himself "an unexpected visitor," but Becket claims he has, in fact, been
expected (p. 31). This Tempter tells Becket to betray the king with whom he has so recently been
reconciled: "Other friends / May be found." (p. 33). But Becket also resists this temptation to
expedient friendships on the basis of his faith: "If the Archbishop cannot trust the Throne"-i.e., if
he has cause for fear from the king (which, in fact, he does)-"He has good cause to trust none but
God alone" (p. 34). This third temptation perhaps parallels the temptation Jesus faced to ally
himself with the common people against the religious leadership by throwing himself from the
Temple (Matt. 4:5-7; Luke 4:9-12); but at any event, Becket's repudiation of the temptation
echoes Jesus' repudiation of any help but God in the face of temptation (Matt. 4:10; Luke 5:8).
As have the other tempters, the Third Tempter leaves Becket to his fate, declaring, "I shall not
wait at your door" (p. 34)-an allusion to the depiction of sin in Gen. 4:7: "[S]in is lurking at the
door; its desire is for you, but you must master it." At this point, it would appear that Becket has
done so.
The Fourth Tempter comes closest to luring Becket away from the mission he knows he must
fulfill. No doubt his unexpected arrival accounts for some of his power over Becket-as the
Archbishop says, "I expected / Three visitors, not four" (p. 35), perhaps because Jesus only

164. wrestled with three temptations in the Gospel narratives of Matthew and Luke (cited numerous
times above)-but much of this Tempter's near-success must also be attributed to the fact that he
seems closest to being Becket himself. When Becket asks the Tempter's identity, he does so in a
way that indicates this truth: "Who are you, tempting me with my own desires?" (p. 39). Or
again, when Becket accuses this last Tempter, "You only offer / Dreams to damnation," the
Tempter responds, "You have often dreamt them" (p. 40). He even uses Becket's earlier words
against him ("You know and do not know, what is to act or suffer," etc., pp. 40-41). Thus, the
Fourth Tempter would seem to be Eliot's way of externally dramatizing Becket's inner struggles.
The Tempter strives to persuade Becket to pursue the path of martyrdom, but for ultimately
selfish reasons: for instance, "think of glory after death. Think of pilgrims, standing in line /
Before the glittering jewelled shrine." (pp. 37-38)-the last perhaps a sly reference to Chaucer's
Canterbury Tales as well as the historical fact of the multitude of pilgrims who traveled to
Canterbury to do homage at Becket's shrine. "King is forgotten, when another shall come," the
Tempter tells Becket; but "Saint and Martyr rule from the tomb" (p. 38). The appeal is to more
than Becket's alleged, much-talked about pride; it is an appeal to a desire to break free of the
"wheel" (p. 38) of time itself. This alternative is imagined as Becket, in effect, canonizing
himself: the Tempter asks him the rhetorical question, "What can compare with the glory of
Saints / Dwelling forever in presence of God?" (p. 39). The Tempter, in other words, tempts
Becket to seize the honor of sainthood for himself. He wants the archbishop to be proud-to
embrace a martyr's fate for an ulterior motive. Interestingly, to do so would be for Becket to be
an anti-Christ figure, as Jesus "did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited"
(Phil. 2:6)-or "grasped," in other translations.
Yet that wheel, that pattern, is an order to which Becket firmly belongs. He cannot escape from
it, any more than can the women of Canterbury; he, however, knows that his purpose is not to
escape it but to interrupt it; as discussed above, his role is to bring an "end," a true "peace," a
state of life-no longer "living and partly living"-in which the wheel once again turns, in which
the unjust status quo has been disrupted. As far as becoming a saint is concerned, Becket knows
that, like the office of high priest as described in the New Testament, sainthood is not an honor
one presumes to take for oneself (see Heb. 5:4)-one must be called to it, as God is calling Becket.
For all of his supposed "pride," then, Becket sees this fourth temptation for the temptation to
pride that it is: "I know well that these temptations / Mean present vanity and future torment" (p.
40). He does not seek to make his role in God's pattern anything but what God means it to be.
Becket is accused of being proud-by the Fourth Tempter, by the priests-but he is actually
anything but.
Thus, Becket's final speech in Part I-which includes the famous couplet, "The last temptation is
the greatest treason: / To do the right deed for the wrong reason" (p. 44)-expresses his coming to
terms, humbly and appropriately, with his fate. Becket recognizes, as did the apostle Paul before
him (e.g., Romans 7:7), that "[s]in grows with doing good" and the "[s]ervant of God has chance
of greater sin" (p. 45). Nonetheless, he must strive to "serve the greater cause" (p. 45), regardless
of how it looks to others (e.g., "What yet remains to show you of my history / Will seem to most
of you at best futility," p. 45).


Interlude
Summary

165. Archbishop Becket preaches his Christmas morning sermon, taking as his text the traditional
narrative of the announcement of Christ's birth to the shepherds in Luke 2. Becket makes several
points in his brief homily. He tells his listeners that, through the bloodless sacrifice of the Mass,
the Christian community celebrates Jesus' death at the same time as they celebrate his birth-thus,
Christmas is an occasion in which mourning and rejoicing commingle. He defines true peace in
spiritual rather than temporal terms. He connects Christmas with the liturgical feast that follows
the next day, the feast of Saint Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Becket reminds his listeners
that martyrdoms are not mere happenstance, but the will of God, and events through which God
works out the divine purpose. Becket closes by invoking the memory of his predecessor,
Archbishop Elphege, and prophesying that Canterbury "in a short time may yet have another
martyr, and that one perhaps not the last."
Analysis
Although its text is Eliot's invention, Becket's sermon reflects a well-known tradition: "On
Christmas day Saint Thomas made a sermon at Canterbury in his own church, and weeping,
prayed the people to pray for him, for he knew well his time was nigh." (In connection with this
legend about Becket's foreknowledge of his death, recall the Messenger's comment in Part I: "no
one considers it a happy prognostic" [p. 16]. As archbishop, it is no doubt certain that Becket
preached on Christmas Day, 1170, and it is even highly probable that Becket did indeed take
Luke 2:14 and the surrounding verses as his text; it has been, for centuries, the traditionally
assigned reading for the celebration of Christmas. The themes of his sermon in this Interlude,
however, serve Eliot's dramatic aims, and should be understood as such.
First, Becket makes much of the fact that Christmas is a celebration not only of Jesus' birth, but
also his death: because of the theology underlying the Roman Catholic Mass (or Eucharist)-
namely, that the priest offers a "bloodless sacrifice" to God, literally re-presenting the body and
blood of Christ to God under the accidents (i.e., external attributes) of the consecrated bread and
wine-Becket can conclude that "we celebrate at once the Birth of Our Lord and His Passion and
Death upon the Cross" (p. 47). Birth and death, then, coexist quite closely in the Mass of the
Nativity. Becket states that, although "the World" (in the context of Eliot's play, a shorthand way
of referring to temporal structures and authorities) cannot comprehend such behavior, the
Christian community "can rejoice and mourn at once for the same reason" (p. 48). This emphasis
on the proximity of birth and death serves to help interpret for the play's audience the fact of
Becket's death during Christmastide: it is, again, that interrupting, apocalyptic event that will "for
good or ill" set the "wheel" of history turning once more (cf. p. 18). It is Becket's death that will,
paradoxically, give birth to a new existence for Canterbury and its people-and, by extension, for
the world itself. Becket's death will enable the world to be born out of the barren limbo of "living
and partly living" (the repeated refrain from Part I).
Second, Eliot uses Becket's sermon to return to an examination of the relationship-usually, one
of conflict-between the temporal and the spiritual. He asks his congregation to think about how
Jesus spoke of peace; this portion of the sermon not only references John 14:27 but also Becket's
own initial greeting of peace upon his return to Canterbury in Part I. Becket denies that Jesus was
giving temporal peace: "the kingdom of England at peace with its neighbours, the barons at
peace with the King." (p. 48). Rather, Jesus meant a spiritual peace. It is that non-temporal kind
of peace which Becket's death will bring. His death, a consequence of his not being at temporal
peace with King Henry, will nonetheless result in peace for the community and the world by
fulfilling God's "pattern," by allowing the wheel of fate to once again turn.
Finally, Becket's sermon offers explicit definitions of martyrdom. Eliot has the archbishop

166. comment on the fact that the two days after Christmas Day are, on the Western Christian
liturgical calendar, the feast of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr (see Acts 7). Becket
reminds his listeners-and, thus, Eliot informs his audience-that "A Christian martyrdom is never
an accident, for Saints are not made by accident" (p. 49). Furthermore, "a Christian martyrdom
[is not] the effect of a man's will to become a Saint, as a man by willing and contriving may
become a ruler of men" (p. 49). Becket thus implicitly reiterates his rejection of the Fourth
Tempter's enticements in Part I, and also reinforces the intractable division between temporal and
spiritual power. He affirms that the true martyr "has lost his will in the will of God, and. no
longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of becoming a martyr" (p. 49). He then
discusses the educative and even salvific purposes of a martyrdom: "to warn [men] and to lead
them, to bring them back to [God's] ways" (p. 49).
For these three reasons, then, Becket's sermon offers several interpretive keys to the whole of
Eliot's drama. In keeping with Eliot's presentation of Becket as a Christ-figure, it is notable that
Becket asks his congregation to keep his words "in your hearts" and "think of them at another
time" (p.50), for it was not until after Jesus' Resurrection that his disciples remembered and
understood his words about his own identity and role in God's pattern (see, e.g., Luke 24:44-45;
John 2:22).
Near the close of his sermon, Becket makes reference to "the blessed Archbishop Elphege" (p.
50). Elphege (sometimes spelled Alphege, and also known as Godwine) assumed the
archbishopric of Canterbury in 1006. "At this period England was much harassed by the Danes,
who, towards the end of September, 1011, having sacked and burned Canterbury, made Elphege
a prisoner. On 19 April, 1012, at Greenwich, his captors, drunk with wine, and enraged at
ransom being refused, pelted Elphege with bones of oxen and stones, till one Thurm dispatched
him with an axe. He is sometimes represented with an axe cleaving his skull"
Part II
Summary
Four days after the Interlude-December 29, 1170-the women of Canterbury again gather, and
again speak ominous, foreboding words as they lament "the death of the old" year and the
promise only of "a bitter spring" to follow. The priests have been marking the liturgical feasts
that come after Christmas-the feast of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr, on December 26;
the feast of St. John the Evangelist on December 27; the feast of the Holy Innocents, those
children of Bethlehem slain by Herod's soldiers in the monarch's mad search for the newborn
"king of the Jews," on December 28-but also express doubt that these chronological markers
carry much meaning: as one priest states, "Every day is the day we should fear from or hope
from. The critical moment. is always now. Even now, in sordid particulars / The eternal design
may appear."
In truth, four soldiers of King Henry appear: we will learn later that their names are Reginald
Fitz Urse, Sir Hugh de Morville, Baron William de Traci, and Richard Brito (the actual names of
Becket's assassins, but here following Eliot's spellings; for alternative renderings, see the "Note
on Historical Background" above). These knights demand to see Archbishop Becket, accusing
him of treason. They demand that Becket absolve the bishops who, in defiance of the Vatican,
participated in the coronation of King Henry's son. Becket protests that he cannot absolve them;
only the Pope, who condemned them, could perform that action. Unsatisfied, the knights depart,
promising to soon return, "for the King's justice. with swords." Becket's priests urge him to seek
his own safety within the Cathedral. Becket, however, realizes that his appointed end has come.

167. His destiny has arrived. Despite the Archbishop's calm and prayerful resolve, his priests,
literally, drag him to say vespers. The chorus of Canterbury's women reflect on what awaits
human beings beyond death: "[B]ehind the face of Death the Judgment / And behind the
Judgment the Void, more horrid than active shapes of hell."
Within the Cathedral, Becket's priests urge him to bar the door. The archbishop refuses, insisting
that God's house must be open to all people. The knights, now inebriated, return, once more
demanding that Becket grant absolution to the excommunicated bishops. Once more, Becket
refuses: absolution is not his to grant. Commending himself in prayer to God, the Blessed Virgin,
and the saints-including "blessed martyr Denys"-Becket is slain by the four knights. During his
murder, the chorus of women lament that the whole world has become foul.
Following Becket's death, the four knights directly address the audience, attempting to explain
and justify their actions. Reginald Fitz Urse introduces each speaker. First, de Traci argues that
he and his companions are disinterested in the murder; they stand to gain nothing by it, and do it
only for the sake of England. They are acting, in other words, as patriots. Second, Sir de Morville
talks about the need for order. Becket upset the King's plan to consolidate the power of the
church with the power of the state; therefore, he represented a threat to stability and security.
Third, and finally, Brito asks the audience to consider well the question, "Who killed the
Archbishop?" He argues that, in effect, Becket killed himself by his unquenchable pride. He
condemns Becket as "a monster of egotism." Following these speeches, Fitz Urse urges the
audience to disperse quietly to their homes. The play draws to a close as the priests and chorus
recognize Becket's new status as a saint with God and seek his intercession, recognizing their
complicity, and indeed that of the world, in his death.
Analysis
As did Part I, Part II begins with the Chorus' comment upon the progression-or lack thereof-of
time. Even though the winter solstice has passed, the Chorus feels compelled to ask, "Do the
days begin to lengthen?" (p. 53). If so, they see no evidence of the natural rebirth to come; as
they ask, "What sign of the spring of the year?" (p. 53). If there is to be a spring, it will be only
"a bitter spring" (p. 53)-a phrase that may be designed to call to mind, in an ironic fashion, the
General Prologue to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, for Chaucer writes that pilgrims travel to
Becket's shrine at Canterbury "Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote / The droghte of March
hath perced to the roote."-in other words, when spring is bringing new life to the earth. The
Chorus' speech also invokes Eliot's own work in his modernist epic poem The Waste Land
(1922), which similarly mocks Chaucer with Eliot's famous declaration, "April is the cruelest
month." What makes this winter so cruel for the Chorus seems to be the realization that another
Christmastide has arrived, and yet there is no "peace upon earth, goodwill among men" (p. 53).
Instead, hostility prevails, and it "defiles the world, but death in the Lord renews it" (p. 53)-
perhaps the women's unconscious acknowledgment of the way in which Becket's impending
martyrdom will effect "salvation" for the world. Their talk of defiling and renewal may also
anticipate their cries for the world's cleansing while the four knights kill the archbishop.
Part II is also similar to Part I in that it immediately grounds the audience in liturgical time. The
priests' procession across the stage mirrors the progression of the days after Christmas Day that
lead to Becket's death. Eliot skillfully draws from the appointed liturgical readings to highlight
his themes of martyrdom and faithful witness to God. The First Priest sings verses from Psalm
119 on the feast of St. Stephen. Psalm 119:23 is, in its biblical context, a believer's declaration of
intent to rely solely on God's statutes in the face of persecution. The text thus gives voice to a
faithful one who is suffering, and prove applicable not only to Stephen, the first Christian martyr,

168. but also to Becket. (Incidentally, the First Priest also quotes Acts 7:60, which is the New
Testament's narration of the moment of Stephen's death.) On the next day, the feast of St. John,
the Second Priest quotes from Psalm 22. Psalm 22:22 is, in its original setting, an expression of
faith for the future, a hope that God will deliver the psalmist from trouble, thus enabling him or
her to proclaim God's greatness in the future among God's people. Thus, this verse serves to
point to Becket's fate after death, as a continuing witness to God. The priest also reads from the
first Epistle of John (1:1-2), another text about testimony and witness. On the following day, the
Third Priest mingles several different biblical texts: "Out of the mouths of babes" from Psalm
8:2-an affirmation that God causes praise to come forth from the mouths of the vulnerable and
innocent, thus "silenc[ing] the enemy and the avenger"; Psalm 79:3 ("The blood of thy saints.");
John the Seer's vision of the chorus of the faithful martyrs in heaven in Revelation ("the voice of
many waters" and "a new song," Rev. 14:2-3); and Matthew's account of the slaughter of the
innocents (Matthew 2:13-23, which itself cites Jeremiah 31:15). This constellation of texts,
therefore, serves to highlight, to no uncertain degree, the identity of Becket as a martyr. Further
commentary on the nature of Becket's death emerges by the conflated quotation of Hebrews 5
and John 10 by the First Priest (p. 56). Becket has not presumed to become a martyr, just as Jesus
did not presume to become a high priest (Heb. 5); but, like a faithful high priest, Becket, as did
Jesus, will be the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep (John 10).
And yet, even as Eliot draws attention to liturgical time here at the outset of Part II, he also, in a
key interpretive passage, relegates it to second importance. The Third Priest asks, "What day is
the day that we know that we hope or fear for?" He then answers his own question: "Every day is
the day we should fear from or hope from. One moment / Weighs like another. Only in
retrospection, selection, / We say, that was the day. The critical moment / That is always now,
and here. Even now, in sordid particulars / The eternal design may appear" (p. 57). These critical
lines speak directly to the play's theme that time must and can be redeemed, that a kind of life
beyond that of "living and partly living" is possible and necessary. By making his decision to
adhere to God's order, Becket will bring something of that order into the world of the "now and
here," enabling the "wheel" of time to turn, allowing true "peace" to manifest itself in
Canterbury, however brokenly and imperfectly, in "sordid particulars." The speech helps the
play's audience interpret Becket's death as more than an "accident" (see the Interlude)-it is a truly
transcendent act.
Audiences should note the irony in Eliot's use of the term "King" when the four knights enter the
action. For instance, they introduce themselves as "Servants of the King" (p. 57). Yet Becket
himself would claim the same identity, not only in reference to King Henry (compare, for
example, his discussion of whether or not the king should be able to trust the archbishop and vice
versa when rejecting the Third Tempter in Part I), but also and even more so in reference to God,
the King of kings. Eliot thus employs the language of kingship to further develop his treatment
of temporal versus spiritual power, and what quality of allegiance is owed to each. (Compare
Jesus' discussion of the same issue in the New Testament, Mark 12:17 and parallels). An
understanding of this irony illuminates deeper meanings to much of what follows: as just one
example, consider the Knights' accusation to Becket, "You are the Archbishop in revolt against
the King" (p. 59). While Becket may be seen as insubordinate to Henry-although Becket would
no doubt argue that, in championing the rightful spiritual authority of the Church, he is actually
rendering all due and appropriate service to the temporal authority-he is certainly not "in revolt"
against his heavenly King. His response, then, can be seen as doubly true: "Both before and after
I received the ring [of the chancellorship] / I have been a loyal subject to the King" (p. 60). (Eliot

169. utilizes irony further when he has the Knights tell Becket, "[W]e'll pray for you" [p. 60]-
anticipating the fact that people will pray to, not for Becket, following his canonization as a
saint.)
As Becket's death draws ever closer, Eliot draws on the biblical tradition of picturing true
spiritual leaders as shepherds. See, for instance, the prophet Ezekiel's condemnation of false
shepherds (Ezek. 34, passim.); the depiction of God as a shepherd (Psalm 23); and Jesus' self-
identification as "the good shepherd" who "lays down his life for the sheep" (John 10:11). Becket
states that distance shall never again separate him from those for whose souls he has charge:
"Never again. / Shall the sea run between the shepherd and his fold" (p. 65).
Similarly, as he resists his fellow priests' efforts to hurry him off to vespers, he declares, "They
shall find the shepherd here; the flock shall be spared" (p. 70). Obviously, such language
strongly suggests a parallel between Becket and Jesus; moreover, it emphasizes that what Becket
does, he does for his people. In terms of the existential crisis that Eliot's play presents, Becket's
transcendence of "living and partly living" will benefit the rest of humanity by allowing "the
wheel" to again turn, by delivering the world from its constant "waiting" (see the comments on
the significance of Advent in the commentary for Part I).
Prior to the death of Becket, the Chorus delivers a lengthy, sensory reflection filled with images
of death and decay: e.g., "I have smelt / Death in the rose, death in the hollyhock, sweet pea,
hyacinth, primrose and cowslip." (p. 67). In response to the Chorus' song of corruption, which
culminates in the women's request that Becket pray for them (again, an explicit anticipation of
his canonization as a saint), the archbishop echoes the first word we heard him speak: "Peace" (p.
69). It is as though Becket knows that peace is at hand because his death is at hand-because, as
he states, "This is one moment" (p. 69) in which he is "not in danger: only near to death" (p. 70).
As does Jesus in the New Testament, Becket now knows that his "hour" is near (e.g., John
12:27ff). He is able to face his destiny because he has received "a tremour of bliss, a wink of
heaven, a whisper / And I would no longer be denied." (p. 70). Here we see how God's pattern-
that "eternal design" of which the Third Priest spoke-is working itself out in the present, "critical
moment. in sordid particulars" (p. 57). Audiences might also infer from Becket's comment that
all we ever receive in this life are glimpses and "rumours" of heaven, of transcendence; it is up to
us to be loyal to them, to follow and pursue them, in order that the "wheel" might turn-in order
that, as Becket earlier told the Chorus, "the figure of God's purpose [may be] made complete" (p.
69). Such transcendence may not last in the world-as Becket told the Chorus, "You shall forget
these things, toiling in the household." (p. 69)-but forgetting does not change the fact that they
happened, that the wheel turned, that transcendence was, for one "critical moment," achieved. No
one can live entirely under the crushing awareness of God's purpose-as Becket states, in one of
the drama's most-quoted lines, "Human kind cannot bear very much reality" (p. 69)-but the saints
and martyrs, as they arise, must inject transcendence into mundane "reality"-in the play's terms,
"order" as the world understands it-for life to be truly lived.
When the priests urge Becket to bar the doors of the cathedral, Becket again reminds them, and
the audience, of the difference between temporal and spiritual power: "The Church shall protect
her own, in her own way, not / As oak and stone; stone and oak decay, / Give no stay, but the
Church shall endure" (p. 73). Temporal power and order are fleeting; spiritual power and order
are not. The words are, perhaps, another reminder of the inversion, what theologians sometimes
call the "great reversal," of values in the kingdom of heaven (as before, e.g., see 1 Cor. 1:26-31;
2 Cor. 12:9). Becket reminds the priests that spiritual order and power are not utilitarian: "You
argue by results, as this world does, / To settle if an act be good or bad" (p. 73). His words here

170. echo his earlier assertion that the worst possible temptation is to "do the right deed for the wrong
reason" (p. 44). Becket is doing more than repudiating the idea that ends justify means; he is
repudiating the very idea that ends can offer any firm moral guidance at all, for in "every life and
every act / Consequence of good and evil can be shown" alike (p. 73). More important than result
is moral orientation: "I give my life / To the Law of God above the Law of Man" (p. 74). For
Becket, the spiritual trumps the temporal. This allegiance to the spiritual also serves Eliot's
purpose of portraying Becket as a transcendent individual whose death achieves a transcendent
purpose: "It is not in time that my death shall be known; / It is out of time that my decision is
taken / If you call that decision / To which my whole being gives entire consent" (p. 74). Those
latter lines are important because they prevent Becket from becoming the very kind of utilitarian,
pragmatic individual he is condemning-the kind of individual that the Fourth Tempter in Part I
enticed him to become. Becket does not, out of pride or shrewd calculation, set out to die a
martyr's death in order to achieve something. Martyrdom is no crass means to an end, which may
or may not be good or evil-after all, as Becket states, "good and evil in the end become
confounded" (p. 73). Rather, Becket dies a martyr's death because it is the only possible
consequence, the only logical outcome, of his "whole being's consent" to witness to the spiritual
in the midst of the temporal. Audiences may well think again of the Third Priest's earlier speech:
"Even now, in sordid particulars / The eternal design may appear" (p. 57). The particulars of
Becket's death possess just that revelatory quality.
Becket's warnings about the confusion of temporal and spiritual means, however, are lost on the
priests: "Force him," they say (p. 74), to seek his own safety. Becket, however, stands steadfast
in his resolve to have the doors unbarred, and so the four knights, his executioners, enter, drunk
but prepared to do their bloody deed. As the Roman soldiers mocked Jesus before his death, so
now do the knights mock Becket.
Eliot has Becket speak the last words that history actually does attribute to him. The "blessed
martyr Denys" to whom Becket commends himself (p. 78) is Denis, bishop of Paris, whom
tradition says was killed by non-Christian natives in the late third century CE, along with two of
his companions. "He is usually represented with his head in his hands because, according to the
legend, after his execution the corpse rose again and carried the head for some distance. He is
thus an appropriate symbol for the truth of Becket's words, "[I]f you kill me, I shall rise from my
tomb." (p. 66).
As the knights kill Becket, the Chorus realizes the transcendent effect his death is having: "But
this," the women cry, "this is out of life, this is out of time" (p. 77). Becket's death has freed them
from the "living and partly living" they have known for the past seven years-that is, for the
wholeness, the totality, of their previous experience. Ironically and tragically, however, even as
Becket is dying they are rejecting the freedom his martyrdom makes available: "We did not wish
anything to happen. / We understood the private catastrophe, / The personal loss, the general
misery,/ Living and partly living" (p. 77)-that key refrain is repeated yet once again, as if Eliot
wishes no one to miss the point. Rather than being at peace, the Chorus can only lament how the
world has become stained. That Becket's death is a grievous wrong is, of course, indisputable;
yet the Chorus is unable to see how its "sordid particulars" work out the will of the spiritual.
Eliot views Becket's death, perhaps, through the lens of widespread, public horrors that the early
twentieth century brought in the guise of World War I (and would bring even more horrifically,
of course, with World War II and the Holocaust). How could the world ever dare hope to "return,
to the soft quiet seasons" (p. 77) after such experiences? That the disasters and terrors of the new
century were grievous wrongs was not to be disputed; Eliot may, however, be pointing at a way

171. in which these wrongs can be received and seized as redemptive possibilities. Such moments are
"apocalyptic"-again, meaning utterly revelatory-in that they lay bare the conflict between the
temporal and the spiritual, and can become crises in which people such as Becket pledge their
loyalty to the spiritual in a transcendent act. The women of Canterbury, however, like so many of
us, do not react in that way. They see that "the world is wholly foul" (p. 78)-which, as the evils
of the twentieth century proved for so many, it of course is-but they do not see how to move
beyond that foulness-how, as did Becket, to transcend it.
The apologia of the four knights for their act provide (no doubt according to Eliot's intentions)
some unexpected comic relief even as they force the audience to think about serious issues.
Taken together, they demonstrate the very moral failure of the temporal order that Becket
warned against: using the end-namely, the death of this "meddlesome priest" (King Henry's
alleged epithet for Becket)-to justify the means. Various ends, in fact, are called upon to perform
such justification. William de Traci calls himself one of "four plain Englishmen" (p. 79) when in
fact he is a baron-one of those who rule unjustly over the oppressed, according to the Chorus'
speeches in Part I. He represents the end of maintaining the status quo, therefore. Hugh de
Morville represents the end of absolute temporal order: "Our King saw that the one thing
needful"-note the allusion to Jesus' language in Luke 10:42-was to restore order" (p. 81). He
explains to the audience that King Henry had made Becket the chancellor for this very reason: to
create "a union of spiritual and temporal administration, under the central government" (p. 81).
De Morville's argument is, in essence, that in rejecting such a union of authorities and orders,
Becket invited his own demise. This argument is made further explicit by the third to speak,
Richard Brito, who rehearses the old arguments that Becket sought a martyr's death because of
his ego: Becket, he claims, "showed himself to be utterly indifferent to the fate of the country, to
be, in fact, a monster of egotism" (p. 83). Fitz Urse concludes this section of the play with a
comical, virtually verbatim invocation of the stereotypical admonishment "move along, folks,
nothing to see here" speech heard by so many police officers in motion pictures (see p. 84). But
beyond the justification of means by ends, and beyond the (slight) comic relief the four knights
here provide, readers and audience members must consider their own complicity in the
continuation of the "living and partly living" that Becket, by his death, transcended. They must
shoulder their share-rather, we must shoulder our share-of the blame for rejecting transcendence,
for turning our back on the vision of the abyss, the sight of the world's foulness that can
nevertheless be overcome-for, as the text has it, being unable to bear reality (see p. 69). For
example, Hugh de Morville points out that what the four knights have done is really what
modern, twentieth-century society has done in more subtle, less violent ways: completely
subjugated the spiritual to the temporal-"if you have now arrived at a just subordination of the
pretensions of the Church to the welfare of the State, remember that it is we who took the first
step" (p. 82). While in Eliot's day these words may have had special relevance as a warning
against fascism-"government marked by centralization of authority under a dictator, stringent
socioeconomic controls, suppression of the opposition through terror and censorship, and
typically a policy of belligerent nationalism and racism" (American Heritage Dictionary)-they
remain relevant for the early twenty-first century as an indictment of the world's neglect of the
spiritual in favor of the temporal.
It is perhaps to signify that lack of depth to modern life that Eliot has switched from poetic form
to prose for the knights' speeches; when the knights leave the stage, however, so does the prose,
and Eliot reverts to poetry for the final moments of his drama. The Three Priests recognize
Becket's status as a saint long before the ecclesiastical hierarchy ever will (see the Historical

172. Note at the beginning of this commentary). While the First Priest interprets Becket's absence
from them as reason for despair-as evidence of "the heathen" now building on "the ruins" of the
Church "[t]heir world without God" (p. 84)-the Third Priests insists that the Church shall
persevere, for it "is fortified / By persecution: supreme, so long as men will die for it" (p. 84).
His comment recalls the oft-quoted maxim of the third century theologian Tertullian, "The blood
of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." The Priest also rejects a world without God-that is, in
terms of Eliot's play, a purely temporal world, with only temporal "peace" and temporal "order"-
as "the hell of make-believe" in which the condemned "justify [their] action to [them]selves" (p.
85)-hearkening back to the temptation offered to and resisted by Becket, to act as though the end
justifies the means. In its final speech, the Chorus offers praises to God, a new "Te Deum" to
complement the traditional one that Eliot's stage directions indicate should be playing in the
background: a hymn of praise that declares all things proclaim God in simply, but truly, living.
"They affirm Thee in living; all things affirm Thee in living" (p. 86)-even if they would
consciously deny God. But this life must be true living, transcendent living in the manner of
Becket, not the half-life of "living and partly living" from which his death offers deliverance. It
must be a complete embrace of God's turning wheel, of the divine pattern of destiny; it must be
marked, as Becket was, with total devotion to manifesting the eternal and the spiritual in the
transitory, mundane and "sordid particulars" of the temporal: "The back bent under toil, the knee
bent under sin, the hands to the face under fear, the head bent under grief." (p. 87). Eliot returns
to the symbolic motif of the passage of the seasons, the same motif with which the play began, to
underscore the change that has taken place. The passing seasons are no longer simply a time of
waiting, a perpetual Advent: far from it, "Even in us the voices of seasons, the snuffle of winter,
the song of spring, the drone of summer. praise Thee" (p. 87).
The play does not, however, end on an entirely transcendent note. The Chorus confesses, just
before the curtain falls, that they are but "common men. who shut the door and sit by the fire; /
Who fear the blessing of God." (p. 87). Thus Eliot's drama closes with a somber reminder that
the temporal world resists the infusion of the spiritual, and humanity often rejects the "Saints"
sent to it who would blaze a trail of transcendence. For transcendence, as the Chorus well knows,
requires "loneliness. surrender. deprivation" (pp. 87-88). Thus they, and we, are all complicit in
the deaths of martyrs like Becket, for we "fear the injustice of men less than the justice of God"
(p. 88). The play concludes, appropriately, with the Kyrie Eleison-"Lord, have mercy upon us. /
Christ, have mercy upon us. / Lord, have mercy upon us"-and with a plea for Becket's
intercession on our behalf to God.
First performance
• George Bell, the Bishop of Chichester, was instrumental in getting Eliot to work as writer
with producer E. Martin Browne in producing the pageant play The Rock (1934).
• Bell then asked Eliot to write another play for the Canterbury Festival in 1935. Eliot
agreed to do so if Browne once again produced (he did).
• The first performance was given on 15 June 1935 in the Chapter House of Canterbury
Cathedral.
• Robert Speaight played the part of Becket.
Eliot's own criticism

173. • In 1951, in the first Theodore Spencer Memorial Lecture at Harvard University, Eliot
criticised his own plays in the second half of the lecture, explicitly the plays Murder in
the Cathedral, The Family Reunion, and The Cocktail Party.
• The lecture was published as Poetry and Drama and later included in Eliot's 1957
collection On Poetry and Poets.
Thomas Becket
• Also known as Saint Thomas of Canterbury, Thomas of London, and later Thomas à
Becket.
• Was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1162 until his murder in 1170.
• He is venerated as a saint and martyr by both the Catholic Church and the Anglican
Communion.
• He engaged in conflict with Henry II of England over the rights and privileges of the
Church and was murdered by followers of the king in Canterbury Cathedral.
• Soon after his death, he was canonised by Pope Alexander III.

Assassination
• In June 1170, Roger de Pont L'Évêque, the archbishop of York, along with Gilbert Foliot,
the bishop of London, and Josceline de Bohon, the bishop of Salisbury, crowned the heir
apparent, Henry the Young King, at York.
• This was a breach of Canterbury's privilege of coronation, and in November 1170 Becket
excommunicated all three.
• While the three clergymen fled to the king in Normandy, Becket continued to
excommunicate his opponents in the church, the news of which also reached Henry.
• Upon hearing reports of Becket's actions, Henry is said to have uttered words that were
interpreted by his men as wishing Becket killed.
• The king's exact words are in doubt and several versions have been reported.
• The most commonly quoted, as handed down by oral tradition, is “Who will rid me of
this troublesome priest.”
• Edward Grim, writing in Latin, gives us "What miserable drones and traitors have I
nourished and brought up in my household, who let their lord be treated with such
shameful contempt by a low-born cleric?".
• Edward Grim was a clerk from Cambridge who was visiting Canterbury Cathedral on
Tuesday 29 December 1170 when Thomas Becketwas murdered.
• He subsequently researched and published a book, Vita S. Thomae (Life of Thomas
Becket), published in about 1180, which is today known chiefly for a short section in
which he gives an eyewitness account of the events in the Cathedral. He himself
attempted to protect Becket, and sustained a serious arm wound in the attack.
• Whatever Henry said, it was interpreted as a royal command, and four knights, Reginald
fitzUrse, Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, and Richard le Breton, set out to
confront the Archbishop of Canterbury.

174. • On 29 December 1170 they arrived at Canterbury.
• they placed their weapons under a tree outside the cathedral and hid their mail
armour under cloaks before entering to challenge Becket.
• The knights informed Becket he was to go to Winchester to give an account of his
actions, but Becket refused.
• It was not until Becket refused their demands to submit to the king's will that they
retrieved their weapons and rushed back inside for the killing.
• Becket, meanwhile, proceeded to the main hall for vespers.
• The four knights, wielding drawn swords, caught up with him in a spot near a door to the
monastic cloister, the stairs into the crypt, and the stairs leading up into the quire of the
cathedral, where the monks were chanting vespers.
• According to Edward Grim:
• The wicked knight leapt suddenly upon him, cutting off the top of the crown which
the unction of sacred chrism had dedicated to God. Next he received a second
blow on the head, but still he stood firm and immovable. At the third blow he fell
on his knees and elbows, offering himself a living sacrifice, and saying in a low
voice, 'For the name of Jesus and the protection of the Church, I am ready to
embrace death.' But the third knight inflicted a terrible wound as he lay prostrate.
By this stroke, the crown of his head was separated from the head in such a way
that the blood white with the brain, and the brain no less red from the blood, dyed
the floor of the cathedral. The same clerk who had entered with the knights placed
his foot on the neck of the holy priest and precious martyr, and, horrible to relate,
scattered the brains and blood about the pavements, crying to the others, 'Let us
away, knights; this fellow will arise no more.
Characters
The Chorus: an unspecified number of Canterbury's women, is a corporate character serving
the same purposes as does the chorus in Greek drama: to develop and, more importantly, to
comment on the action of the play. The women's initial speech fairly defines their dramaturgic
role: "We are forced to bear witness." And yet this chorus, like its ancient Greek predecessors, is
no mere, dispassionate, objective "eyewitness"; rather, it is a witness bearing testimony to truth-
almost as in a legal proceeding, but that analogy fails to capture the nature of the testimony the
chorus offers. In commenting upon the action of Thomas Becket's murder, the women are
voicing insights into, reflections on, and conclusions about time, destiny, and life and death. In
the end, they emerge as representatives of ordinary people-such as those who make up the
audience of the play, or its readership-people who, mired in and having settled for an existence
of "living and partly living," are unable to greet transcendence when it is offered to them. As
they state in the play's final moments, not everyone can bear the "loneliness. surrender.
deprivation" necessary to become a saint. Not all can be saints-but all can pray for their
intercession.
Thomas Becket: is the Archbishop of Canterbury, former Chancellor to King Henry II, now
estranged from the monarch because he insists upon the right of the Church to rule in spiritual
matters-a rule that, in practice, has ramifications for how the king ought to rule in temporal
matters. Unlike the Chorus, Becket is able to stare into the existential abyss-that "Void" behind

175. death and judgment, mentioned in Part II, that is "more horrid than active shapes of hell." Becket
is often accused of pride in the play, but he is actually humble in submitting himself completely
to the will of God as he comprehends it. His death offers a glimpse of how transcendence can be
achieved: the only question that remains is whether the rest of humanity is able to trace the same
path, to "give [its] life / To the Law of God above the Law of Man."
The Four Tempters: present Becket, in Part I of the drama, with various ways of avoiding his
impending death as a martyr. Their temptations correlate, to one degree or another, with the
justifications of Becket's assassination offered to the audience by The Four Knights at the end of
the play. In a prefatory note to the play's third edition (1937), Eliot indicated that the roles of the
Tempters had been intended to be doubled-that is, played by the same actors-as the roles of the
Knights, thus underscoring the connection between the two quartets in an even stronger fashion.
The Three Priests: serve the (admittedly little) dramatic action of Eliot's play, particularly in
Part II, when they urge Becket to bar the doors of the Cathedral against the knights-although they
characterize them as savage beasts-who seek his life. They could thus be seen as representing the
temporal order: indeed, Becket at one point accuses them of thinking only as the world does-
"You argue by results, as this world does." On the other hand, the Priests also are capable of
offering insight into the spiritual order. For example, the Third Priest affirms the Church's
endurance in the face of world built on the ruins of the presumed absence of God; and earlier, he
offers a key interpretive insight by stating, "Even now, in sordid particulars / The eternal design
may appear." Like so many of us, then, the priests have one foot, so to speak, in the spiritual and
the other in the temporal; and they struggle to balance the two orders as best they can, as do we
all. Unfortunately, according to the argument of Eliot's drama, there can ultimately be no
balancing: peace-that is to say, transcendence-is to be found only in the complete submission to
God's design, God's pattern, God's wheel of providence. Mortals, say both Jesus and Eliot,
cannot serve two masters-and so the Priests are fundamentally impotent, unable to do anything
but to pray to God with heavy reliance upon the intercession of Saint Becket, as they, in their
own way but like the Chorus, go on "living and partly living."
QUOTES
For good or ill, let the wheel turn.
The wheel has been still, these seven years, and no good.
For ill or good, let the wheel turn.
For who knows the end of good or evil?
-Third Priest, Part I, p. 18
Temporal power, to build a good world,
To keep order, as the world knows order.
Those who put their faith in worldly order
Not controlled by the order of God,
In confident ignorance, but arrest disorder,
Make it fast, breed fatal disease,
Degrade what they exalt.
-Thomas, Part I, p. 30
Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:
Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:

176. To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
-Thomas, Part I, p. 44
A Christian martyrdom is never an accident, for Saints are not made by accident. Still less is a
Christian martyrdom the effect of man's will to become a Saint, as a man by willing and
contriving may become a ruler of men. A martyrdom is always the design of God, for His love of
men, to warn them and to lead them, to bring them back to His ways. It is never the design of
man; for the true martyr is he who has become the instrument of God, who has lost his will in the
will of God, and who no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of becoming a
martyr.
-Thomas, Interlude, p. 49
Every day is the day we should fear from or hope from. One moment
Weighs like another. Only in retrospection, selection,
We say, that was the day. The critical moment
That is always now, and here. Even now, in sordid particulars
The eternal design may appear.
-Third Priest, Part II, p. 57
It is not I who insult the King
And there is higher than I or the King.
-Thomas, Part II, p. 65
But if you kill me, I shall rise from my tomb
To submit my cause before God's throne.
-Thomas, Part II, p. 66
Human kind cannot bear very much reality.
-Thomas, Part II, p. 69
You argue by results, as this world does,
To settle if an act be good or bad.
You defer to the fact. For every life and every act
Consequence of good and evil can be shown.
-Thomas, Part II, p. 73
For wherever a saint has dwelt, wherever a martyr has given his blood for the blood of Christ,
There is holy ground, and the sanctity shall not depart from it
Though armies trample over it, though sightseers come with guide-books looking over it.
-Chorus, Part II, p. 87
George Bernard Shaw (1856 – 1950)
• An Irish playwright and a co-founder of the London School of Economics. Although his
first profitable writing was music and literary criticism, in which capacity he wrote many
highly articulate pieces of journalism, his main talent was for drama, and he wrote more
than 60 plays.
• He was also an essayist, novelist and short story writer. Nearly all his writings address
prevailing social problems with a vein of comedy which makes their stark themes more
palatable.

177. • Issues which engaged Shaw's attention included education, marriage, religion,
government, health care, and class privilege.
• He was most angered by what he perceived as the exploitation of the working class. An
ardent socialist, Shaw wrote many brochures and speeches for the Fabian Society.
• In 1898, Shaw married Charlotte Payne-Townshend, a fellow Fabian, whom he survived.
They settled in Ayot St Lawrence in a house now called Shaw's Corner.
• Shaw died there, aged 94, from chronic problems exacerbated by injuries he incurred by
falling from a ladder.
• He is the only person to have been awarded both a Nobel Prize (Literature, 1925) and
an Academy Award (Best Adapted Screenplay, 1938), for his contributions to literature
and for his work on the film Pygmalion (an adaptation of his play of the same name),
respectively.
• Shaw refused all other awards and honours, including the offer of a knighthood.
• Shaw wrote five unsuccessful novels at the start of his career between 1879 and 1883.
• A collection of Shaw's short stories, The Black Girl in Search of God and Some Lesser
Tales, was published in 1934.
Novels
• Immaturity
• Cashel Byron's Profession
• An Unsocial Socialist
• The Irrational Knot
• Love Among the Artists

Short stories
• The Black Girl in Search of God (1932)
• The Miraculous Revenge



Drama
• Plays Unpleasant (published 1898)
• Widowers' Houses (1892)
• The Philanderer (1893)
• Mrs Warren's Profession (1893)
• Plays Pleasant (published 1898):
• Arms and the Man (1894)

178. • Candida (1894)
• The Man of Destiny (1895)
• You Never Can Tell (1897)
• Three Plays for Puritans (published 1901)
• The Devil's Disciple (1897)
• Caesar and Cleopatra (1898)
• Captain Brassbound's Conversion (1899)
• The Admirable Bashville (1901)
• Man and Superman (1902–03)
• John Bull's Other Island (1904)
• How He Lied to Her Husband (1904)
• Major Barbara (1905)
• The Doctor's Dilemma (1906)
• Getting Married (1908)
• The Glimpse of Reality (1909)
• The Fascinating Foundling (1909)
• The Shewing-Up of Blanco Posnet (1909)
• Press Cuttings (1909)
• Misalliance (1910)
• The Dark Lady of the Sonnets (1910)
• Fanny's First Play (1911)
• Overruled (1912)
• Androcles and the Lion (1912)
• Pygmalion (1912–13)
• Great Catherine: Whom Glory Still Adores (1913)
• The Inca of Perusalem (1915)
• O'Flaherty V.C. (1915)
• Augustus Does His Bit (1916)
• Annajanska, the Bolshevik Empress (1917)
• Heartbreak House (1919)
• Back to Methuselah (1921)
• In the Beginning
• The Gospel of the Brothers Barnabas
• The Thing Happens

179. • Tragedy of an Elderly Gentleman
• As Far as Thought Can Reach
• Saint Joan (1923)
• The Apple Cart (1929)
• Too True To Be Good (1931)
• On the Rocks (1933)
• The Six of Calais (1934)
• The Simpleton of the Unexpected Isles (1934)
• The Millionairess (1936)
• Geneva (1938)
• In Good King Charles's Golden Days (1939)
• Buoyant Billions (1947)
• Farfetched Fables (1948)
• Shakes versus Shav (1949)
• Why She Would Not (1950)

Pygmalion
• A play by George Bernard Shaw, named after a Greek mythological character.
• Subtitled "A Romance in Five Acts.
• It was first presented on stage to the public in 1913.
• Professor of phonetics Henry Higgins makes a bet that he can train a
bedraggled Cockney flower girl, Eliza Doolittle, to pass for a duchess at an ambassador's
garden party by teaching her to assume a veneer of gentility, the most important element
of which, he believes, is impeccable speech.
• The play is a sharp lampoon of the rigid British class system of the day and a
commentary on women's independence.
• In ancient Greek mythology, Pygmalion fell in love with one of his sculptures, which
then came to life.

THE MYTH
• In Ovid's narrative, Pygmalion was a Cypriot sculptor who carved a woman out of ivory.
• The immoral Propoetides, the daughters of Propoetus dared to deny that Venus was the
goddess.
• For this, because of her divine anger, they are said to have been the first to prostitute
their bodies and their reputations in public, and, losing all sense of shame, they lost the

180. power to blush, as the blood hardened in their cheeks, and only a small change turned
them into hard flints.
• According to Ovid, after seeing the Propoetides prostituting
themselves, Pygmalion determined that he was "not interested in women”.
• This drove him to create a woman of his own in statue form.
• But his statue was so fair and realistic that he fell in love with it.
• In time, Aphrodite's festival day came, and Pygmalion made offerings at the altar of
Aphrodite.
• There—too scared to admit his desire—he quietly wished for a bride who would be "the
living likeness of my ivory girl".
• When he returned home, he kissed his ivory statue, and found that its lips felt warm. He
kissed it again, and found that the ivory had lost its hardness. Aphrodite had granted
Pygmalion's wish.
• Pygmalion married the ivory sculpture changed to a woman under Aphrodite's blessing.
• In Shaw's play Pygmalion, a modern variant of the myth with a subtle hint of feminism,
the underclass flower-girl Eliza Doolittle is metaphorically "brought to life" by a
phonetics professor, Henry Higgins, who teaches her to refine her accent and
conversation and otherwise conduct herself with upper-class manners in social situations
• The general idea of that myth was a popular subject for Victorian era English
playwrights, including one of Shaw's influences, W. S. Gilbert, who wrote a successful
play based on the story called Pygmalion and Galatea first presented in 1871.
• Shaw would also have been familiar with the burlesque version, Galatea, or Pygmalion
Reversed.
• Shaw's play has been adapted numerous times, most notably as the musical My Fair
Lady and the film of that name.
• Shaw mentioned that the character of Professor Henry Higgins was inspired by several
British professors of phonetics: Alexander Melville Bell, Alexander J. Ellis, Tito
Pagliardini, but above all, the cantankerous Henry Sweet.
Preface to Pygmalion
• Shaw ultimately wrote a preface to almost all of his plays that he considered important. In
fact, sometimes the Prefaces, the Prologues, and the Afterwords exceeded the length of
the original dramas.
• In one of his prefaces, he comments that most dramatists use the preface to expound on
things that have little or no importance to the drama.
• Here, Shaw's preface does not comment upon the drama that is to follow, but instead,
since the play deals with phonetics, and since the character of Henry Higgins is based
largely upon a man named Henry Sweet, and since Shaw ultimately did leave a large sum
of money upon his death for a thorough revision of English spelling rules, he uses this
preface to comment upon the absurdity of English spelling in connection with English
pronunciation.

181. • Finally, Shaw sarcastically refers to those critics who say that a successful play should
never be didactic; this play is obviously didactic, and it has been immensely popular ever
since it was first presented.
Act I
Summary
• A heavy late-night summer thunderstorm opens the play. Caught in the unexpected
downpour, passersby from distinct strata of the London streets are forced to seek shelter
together under the portico of St Paul's church in Covent Garden.
• The hapless Son is forced by his demanding sister and mother to go out into the rain to
find a taxi even though there is none to be found. In his hurry, he knocks over the basket
of a common Flower Girl, who says to him, "Nah then, Freddy: look wh' y' gowin, deah."
• After Freddy leaves, the mother gives the Flower Girl money to ask how she knew her
son's name, only to learn that "Freddy" is a common by-word the Flower Girl would have
used to address anyone.
• An elderly military Gentleman enters from the rain, and the Flower Girl tries to sell him a
flower. He gives her some change, but a bystander tells her to be careful, for it looks like
there is a police informer taking copious notes on her activities. This leads to hysterical
protestations on her part, that she is only a poor girl who has done no wrong.
• The refugees from the rain crowd around her and the Note Taker, with considerable
hostility towards the latter, whom they believe to be an undercover cop. However, each
time someone speaks up, this mysterious man has the amusing ability to determine where
the person came from, simply by listening to that person's speech, which turns him into
something of a sideshow.
• The rain clears, leaving few other people than the Flower Girl, the Note Taker, and the
Gentleman. In response to a question from the Gentleman, the Note Taker answers that
his talent comes from "simply phonetics...the science of speech."
• He goes on to brag that he can use phonetics to make a duchess out of the Flower Girl.
Through further questioning, the Note Taker and the Gentleman reveal that they are
Henry Higgins and Colonel Pickering respectively, both scholars of dialects who have
been wanting to visit with each other.
• They decide to go for a supper, but not until Higgins has been convinced by the Flower
Girl to give her some change. He generously throws her a half-crown, some florins, and a
half-sovereign. This allows the delighted girl to take a taxi home, the same taxi that
Freddy has brought back, only to find that his impatient mother and sister have left
without him.
ANALYSIS
• In this scene, Shaw introduces almost all his major characters, but refers to them by role
rather than name in his stage directions: Note-Taker, The Flower Girl, The Daughter, The
Gentleman, etc.
• By the end of the act, The Note-Taker, The Gentleman, and The Flower Girl have
become Higgins, Pickering, and Eliza, respectively. This move will continue through the

182. length of the play, where a less visible blooming of real persons out of mere social
positions occurs.
• If Higgins is one kind of Pygmalion who makes a flower girl a duchess, Shaw is a
grander, more total Pygmalion who can will transform mere titles into human names.
• Remembering that Pygmalion is subtitled "A Romance in Five Acts," this act strikes us
as a rather odd, unceremonious way of introducing the heroes of a romance.
• For starters, the heroine is described as being "not at all a romantic figure." The hero calls
the heroine a "squashed cabbage leaf," while she can do no better than "Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-
ow-oo" back at him.
• Indeed, we must see the play as a deliberate attempt by Shaw to undo the myth of
Pygmalion, and, more importantly, the form of the romance itself.
• Bearing this in mind, it is possible to approach the rest of the play without a preconceived
idea of how a romantic play should conclude, and to notice, as Shaw intends, that there
are more utilitarian than romantic aspects to the characters' relationships with one
another.
Act II
Summary
• The next day, Higgins and Pickering are just resting from a full morning of discussion
when Eliza Doolittle shows up at the door, to the tremendous doubt of the discerning
housekeeper Mrs. Pearce, and the surprise of the two gentlemen.
• Prompted by his careless brag about making her into a duchess the night before, she has
come to take lessons from Higgins, so that she may sound genteel enough to work in a
flower shop rather than sell at the corner of Tottenham Court Road.
• As the conversation progresses, Higgins alternates between making fun of the poor girl
and threatening her with a broomstick beating, which only causes her to howl and holler,
upsetting Higgins' civilized company to a considerable degree.
• Pickering is much kinder and considerate of her feelings, even going so far as to call her
"Miss Doolittle" and to offer her a seat.
• Pickering is piqued by the prospect of helping Eliza, and bets Higgins that if Higgins is
able to pass Eliza off as a duchess at the Ambassador's garden party, then he, Pickering,
will cover the expenses of the experiment.
• This act is made up mostly of a long and animated three-(sometimes four) -way argument
over the character and the potential of the indignant Eliza.
• At one point, incensed by Higgins' heartless insults, she threatens to leave, but the clever
professor lures her back by stuffing her mouth with a chocolate, half of which he eats too
to prove to her that it is not poisoned.
• It is agreed upon that Eliza will live with Higgins for six months, and be schooled in the
speech and manners of a lady of high class. Things get started when Mrs. Pearce takes
her upstairs for a bath.

183. • While Mrs. Pearce and Eliza are away, Pickering wants to be sure that Higgins' intentions
towards the girl are honorable, to which Higgins replies that, to him, women "might as
well be blocks of wood."
• Mrs. Pearce enters to warn Higgins that he should be more careful with his swearing and
his forgetful table manners now that they have an impressionable young lady with them,
revealing that Higgins's own gentlemanly ways are somewhat precarious.
• At this point, Alfred Doolittle, who has learned from a neighbor of Eliza's that she has
come to the professor's place, comes a-knocking under the pretence of saving his
daughter's honor.
• When Higgins readily agrees that he should take his daughter away with him, Doolittle
reveals that he is really there to ask for five pounds, proudly claiming that he will spend
that money on immediate gratification and put none of it to useless savings. Amused by
his blustering rhetoric, Higgins gives him the money.
• Eliza enters, clean and pretty in a blue kimono, and everyone is amazed by the difference.
Even her father has failed to recognize her. Eliza is taken with her transformation and
wants to go back to her old neighborhood and show off, but she is warned against
snobbery by Higgins. The act ends with the two of them agreeing that they have taken on
a difficult task.
ANALYSIS
• Mrs. Pearce and Colonel Pickering are also informal Pygmalions, and with much less
braggadocio. Only with Mrs. Pearce working on the girl's appearance and manners, and
with Pickering working, albeit unknowingly, on her self-respect and dignity, will Eliza
Doolittle become a whole duchess package, rather than just a rough-mannered common
flower girl who can parrot the speech of a duchess.
• We learn in this scene, quite significantly, that while Higgins may be a brilliant
phonetician, Mrs. Pearce finds fault with his constant swearing, forgetful manners,
quarrelsome nature, and other unpleasant habits
• If Higgins cannot be a Pygmalion on his own, and is such an untidy, mannerless
Pygmalion at that, then the obvious question posed to us is if Pygmalion, the transformer
of others, can himself be transformed. Implicit in this question is another: whether it
could be imperviousness to change, rather than superior knowledge, which differentiates
Pygmalion from Galatea.
• This act shows Higgins as an incorrigible scientist. He is not only "violently interested in
everything that can be studied as a scientific subject," but interested in them only as
subjects of scientific study.
• Higgins makes an absolutely inept romantic hero. For him, if women do not inform his
science in any way, "they might as well be blocks of wood." Eliza's criticism comes well-
deserved--"Oh, you've no feeling heart in you: you don't care for nothing but yourself."
Even Mrs. Pearce chides him for treating people like objects--"Well, the matter is, sir,
that you can't take a girl up like that as if you were picking up a pebble on the beach."
Act III
Summary

184. • It is Mrs. Higgins' at-home day, and she is greatly displeased when Henry Higgins shows
up suddenly, for she knows from experience that he is too eccentric to be presentable in
front of the sort of respectable company she is expecting. He explains to her that he wants
to bring the experiment subject on whom he has been working for some months to her at-
home, and explains the bet that he has made with Pickering.
• Mrs. Higgins is not pleased about this unsolicited visit from a common flower girl, but
she has no time to oppose before Mrs. and Miss Eynsford Hill (the mother and daughter
from the first scene) are shown into the parlor by the parlor-maid. Colonel Pickering
enters soon after, followed by Freddy Eynsford Hill, the hapless son from Covent
Garden.
• Higgins is about to really offend the company with a theory that they are all savages who
know nothing about being civilized when Eliza is announced. She makes quite an impact
on everyone with her studied grace and pedantic speech.
• Everything promises to go well until Mrs. Eynsford Hill brings up the subject of
influenza, which causes Eliza to launch into the topic of her aunt, who supposedly died of
influenza. In her excitement, her old accent, along with shocking facts such as her father's
alcoholism, slip out.
• Freddy thinks that she is merely affecting "the new small talk," and is dazzled by how
well she does it. He is obviously infatuated with her. When Eliza gets up to leave, he
offers to walk her but she exclaims, "Walk! Not bloody likely. I am going in a taxi." The
Mrs. Eynsford Hill leave immediately after. Clara, Miss Eynsford Hill, is taken with
Eliza, and tries to imitate her speech.
• After the guests leave, Mrs. Higgins chides Higgins. She says there is no way Eliza will
become presentable as long as she lives with the constantly-swearing Higgins. She
demands to know the precise conditions under which Eliza is living with the two old
bachelors.
• She is prompted to say, "You certainly are a pretty pair of babies, playing with your live
doll," which is only the first of a series of such criticisms she makes of Higgins and
Pickering. They assail her simultaneously with accounts of Eliza's improvement until she
must quiet them.
• She tries to explain to them that there will be a problem of what to do with Eliza once
everything is over, but the two men pay no heed. They take their leave, and Mrs. Higgins
is left exasperated by the "infinite stupidity" of "men! men!! men!!!"
• We get another indication in this act that Higgins is incapable of being the romantic hero
of the play. We see that when he says to this mother, "My idea of a lovable woman is
somebody as like you as possible. I shall never get into the way of seriously liking young
women: some habits lie too deep to be changed." The irony is that even though he has no
doubt that he can transform Eliza, he takes it as a given that there are natural traits in
himself that cannot be changed.

Act IV

185. Summary
• The trio return to Higgins' Wimpole Street laboratory, exhausted from the night's
happenings. They talk about the evening and their great success, though Higgins seems
rather bored, more concerned with his inability to find slippers. While he talks
absentmindedly with Pickering, Eliza slips out, returns with his slippers, and lays them on
the floor before him without a word.
• When he notices them, he thinks that they appeared out of nowhere. Higgins and
Pickering begin to speak as if Eliza is not there with them, saying how happy they are
that the entire experiment is over, agreeing that it had become rather boring in the last
few months. The two of them then leave the room to go to bed. Eliza is clearly hurt
("Eliza's beauty turns murderous," say the stage directions), but Higgins and Pickering
are oblivious to her.
• Higgins pops back in, once again mystified over what he has done with his slippers, and
Eliza promptly flings them in his face. Eliza is mad enough to kill him; she thinks that
she is no more important to him than his slippers. At Higgins' retort that she is
presumptuous and ungrateful, she answers that no one has treated her badly, but that she
is still left confused about what is to happen to her now that the bet has been won.
• Higgins says that she can always get married or open that flower shop (both of which she
eventually does), but she replies by saying that she wishes she had been left where she
was before. She goes on to ask whether her clothes belong to her, meaning what can she
take away with her without being accused of thievery.
• Higgins is genuinely hurt, something that does not happen to him often. She returns him a
ring he bought for her, but he throws it into the fireplace. After he leaves, she finds it
again, but then leaves it on the dessert stand and departs.
ANALYSIS
• If we consider the conventional structure of a romance or fairy tale, the story has really
already reached its climax by this point, because Cinderella has been turned into a
princess, and the challenge has been met.

186. • whether Higgins treats people like people or objects is brought to a head when Eliza
flings his slippers in his face, and complains that she means no more to him than his
slippers--"You don't care. I know you don't care. You wouldn't care if I was dead. I'm
nothing to you--not so much as them slippers." Not only does she object to being treated
like an object, she goes on to assert herself by saying that she would never sell herself,
like Higgins suggests when he tells her she can go get married.
• This climactic move forces Higgins to reconsider what a woman can be, and, as he
confesses in the final act, marks the beginning of his considering Eliza to be an equal
rather than a burden.
Act V
Summary
• Higgins and Pickering show up the next day at Mrs. Higgins' home in a state of
distraction because Eliza has run away. They are interrupted by Alfred Doolittle, who
enters resplendently dressed, as if he were the bridegroom of a very fashionable wedding.
He has come to take issue with Henry Higgins for destroying his happiness.
• It turns out that Higgins wrote a letter to a millionaire jokingly recommending Doolittle
as a most original moralist, so that in his will the millionaire left Doolittle a share in his
trust, amounting to three thousand pounds a year, provided that he lecture for the
Wannafeller Moral Reform World League. Newfound wealth has only brought him more
pain than pleasure, as long lost relatives emerge from the woodwork asking to be fed, not
to mention that he is now no longer free to behave in his casual, slovenly, dustman ways.
• He has been damned by "middle class morality." The talk degenerates into a squabble
over who owns Eliza, Higgins or her father (Higgins did give the latter five pounds for
her after all). To stop them, Mrs. Higgins sends for Eliza, who has been upstairs all along.
But first she tells Doolittle to step out on the balcony so that the she will not be shocked
by the story of his new fortune.
• When she enters, Eliza takes care to behave very civilly. Pickering tells her she must not
think of herself as an experiment, and she expresses her gratitude to him. She says that
even though Higgins was the one who trained the flower girl to become a duchess,
Pickering always treated her like a duchess, even when she was a flower girl.
• His treatment of her taught her not phonetics, but self-respect. Higgins is speaking
incorrigibly harshly to her when her father reappears, surprising her badly. He tells her
that he is all dressed up because he is on his way to get married to his woman. Pickering
and Mrs. Higgins are asked to come along. Higgins and Eliza are finally left alone while
the rest go off to get ready.
• They proceed to quarrel. Higgins claims that while he may treat her badly, he is at least
fair in that he has never treated anyone else differently. He tells her she should come back
with him just for the fun of it--he will adopt her as a daughter, or she can marry
Pickering.

187. • She swings around and cries that she won't even marry Higgins if he asks. She mentions
that Freddy has been writing her love letters, but Higgins immediately dismisses him as a
fool. She says that she will marry Freddy, and that the two will support themselves by
taking Higgins' phonetic methods to his chief rival.
• Higgins is outraged but cannot help wondering at her character--he finds this defiance
much more appealing than the submissiveness of the slippers-fetcher. Mrs. Higgins
comes in to tell Eliza it is time to leave. As she is about to exit, Higgins tells her
offhandedly to fetch him some gloves, ties, ham, and cheese while she is out. She replies
ambivalently and departs; we do not know if she will follow his orders.
• The play ends with Higgins's roaring laughter as he says to his mother, "She's going to
marry Freddy. Ha ha! Freddy! Freddy!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!"

ANALYSIS
• This final act brings together many of the themes that we have examined in the other acts,
such as what constitutes the determinants of social standing, the fault of taking people too
literally, or for granted, the emptiness of higher English society, etc. With regard to the
first of these themes, Eliza makes the impressively astute observation that "the difference
between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she's treated."
• Quite contrary to the dresses, the vowels, the consonants, the jewelry (significantly, only
hired) that she learned to put on, probably the greatest thing she has gained from this
experience is the self-respect that Pickering endowed her with from the first time he
called her "Miss Doolittle.
• Alfred Doolittle makes the unmitigated claim that acquiring the wealth to enter this
society has "ruined me. Destroyed my happiness. Tied me up and delivered me into the
hands of middle class morality." Higgins' haughty proclamation--"You will jolly soon see
whether she has an idea that I haven't put into her head or a word that I haven't put into
her mouth."--mistakes the external for the internal, and betrays too much unfounded
pride, which is the ultimate cause of his misunderstanding with Eliza.
• The greatest problem that people have with Pygmalion is its highly ambivalent
conclusion, in which the audience is left frustrated if it wants to see the typical
consummation of the hero and heroine one expects in a romance--which is what the play
advertises itself to be after all.
• Most people like to believe that Eliza's talk about Freddy and leaving for good is only
womanly pride speaking, but that she will ultimately return to Higgins. The first
screenplay of the movie, written without Shaw's approval, has Eliza buy Higgins a
necktie. In the London premier of the play, Higgins tosses Eliza a bouquet before she
departs. A contemporary tour of the play in America had Eliza return to ask, "What size?"
Other films of the play either show Higgins pleading with Eliza to stay with him, or
Higgins following her to church. Doubtless, everyone wanted to romanticize the play to a
degree greater than that which the playwright presented it. All this makes us question
why Shaw is so insistent and abrupt in his conclusion.
• However, in an epilogue that Shaw wrote after too many directors tried to adapt the
conclusion into something more romantic, he writes, "The rest of the story need not be

188. shewn in action, and indeed, would hardly need telling if our imaginations were not so
enfeebled by their lazy dependence on the ready-mades and reach-me-downs of the
ragshop in which Romance keeps its stock of 'happy endings to misfit all stories."
• He goes on to deliver a detailed and considered argument for why Higgins would never
marry Eliza, and vice versa. For one, Higgins has too much admiration for his mother to
find any other woman even halfway comparable, and even "had Mrs. Higgins died, there
would still have been Milton and the Universal Alphabet." To Shaw's mind, if Eliza
marries anyone at all, it must be Freddy--"And that is just what Eliza did."
• The epilogue goes on to give a dreary account of their married life and faltering career as
the owners of a flower and vegetable shop (an ironic treatment of the typical "happily
ever after" nonsense) in which Freddy and Eliza must take accounting and penmanship
classes to really become useful members of society. One can see this whole play as an
intentional deconstruction of the genre of Romance, and of the myth of Pygmalion as
well.
CHARACTERS
Professor Henry Higgins: Higgins is a forty-year-old bachelor who specializes in phonetics and
who is an acclaimed authority on the subject of dialects, accents, and phonetics.
Eliza Doolittle: She is an uneducated, uncouth "guttersnipe," the flower girl whom Higgins (for
a dare) decides to mold into a duchess. She is probably twenty years younger than Higgins.
Alfred Doolittle: Eliza's father; he is a dustman with a sonorous voice and a Welsh accent, who
proudly believes in his position as a member of the "undeserving poor."
Colonel Pickering : A distinguished retired officer and the author of Spoken Sanskrit. He has
come to England to meet the famous Professor Henry Higgins. He is courteous and polite to
Eliza, and he shares in Higgins' experiments in phonetics in teaching Eliza to speak as a duchess.
Mrs. Higgins: Henry Higgins' mother, who thoroughly loves her son but also thoroughly
disapproves of his manners, his language, and his social behavior.
Mrs. Eynsford-Hill: A lady of the upper-middle class who is in a rather impoverished condition
but is still clinging to her gentility.
Clara Eynsford-Hill: Her daughter; she tries to act the role of the modem, advanced young
person.
Freddy Eynsford-Hill: Her son; he is a pleasant young man who is enchanted by Eliza upon
first meeting her.
Mrs. Pearce: Professor Higgins' housekeeper of long standing. She is the one who first sees the
difficulty of what is to happen to Eliza after Higgins and Pickering have finished their
experiment with her.

189. Edmund John Millington Synge (1871 –1909)
• An Irish playwright, poet, prose writer, travel writer and collector of folklore.
• He was a key figure in the Irish Literary Revival and was one of the co-founders of
the Abbey Theatre.
• He is best known for his play The Playboy of the Western World, which caused riots
in Dublin during its opening run at the Abbey Theatre.
• Synge developed Hodgkin's disease, a form of cancer that was untreatable at the time.
• He died weeks short of his 38th birthday as he was trying to complete his last
play, Deirdre of the Sorrows.
• Synge's plays helped to set the dominant style of plays at the Abbey Theatre until the
1940s. The stylised realism of his writing was reflected in the training given at the
theatre's school of acting, and plays of peasant life were the main staple of the repertoire
until the end of the 1950s.
• Sean O'Casey, the next major dramatist to write for the Abbey, knew Synge's work well
and attempted to do for the Dublin working classes what Synge had done for the rural
poor.
• The critic Vivian Mercier was among the first to recognise Samuel Beckett's debt to
Synge.
• Beckett was a regular member of the audience at the Abbey in his youth and particularly
admired the plays of Yeats, Synge and O'Casey. Mercier points out parallels between
Synge's casts of tramps, beggars and peasants and many of the figures in Beckett's novels
and dramatic works.
• Synge joined the Dublin Naturalists' Field Club and read the works of Charles
Darwin. He wrote: "When I was about fourteen I obtained a book of Darwin's .... My
studies showed me the force of what I read, [and] the more I put it from me the more it
rushed back with new instances and power ... Soon afterwards I turned my attention to

190. works of Christian evidence, reading them at first with pleasure, soon with doubt, and at
last in some cases with derision."
• He then continued, "Soon after I had relinquished the kingdom of God I began to take up
a real interest in the kingdom of Ireland. My politics went round ... to a temperate
Nationalism."
• In 1893 he published his first known work, a poem influenced by Wordsworth,
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• The Playboy of the Western World is a three-act play written by Irish playwright John
Millington Synge and first performed at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on 26 January 1907.
• It is set in Michael James Flaherty's public house in County Mayo (on the west coast of
Ireland) during the early 1900s.
• It tells the story of Christy Mahon, a young man running away from his farm, claiming he
killed his father.
• The locals are more interested in vicariously enjoying his story than in condemning the
immorality of his murderous deed, and in fact, Christy's tale captures the romantic
attention of the bar-maid Pegeen Mike, the daughter of Flaherty.

191. • The play is best known for its use of poetic, evocative language as Synge celebrates the
lyrical speech of the peasant Irish.
• The Playboy Riots occurred in January 1907 during and following the opening
performance of the play. The riots were stirred up by Irish nationalists who viewed the
contents of the play as an offence to public morals and an insult against Ireland. The riots
took place in Dublin, spreading out from the Abbey Theatre and finally being quelled by
the actions of the Dublin Metropolitan Police.
• Years later, W. B. Yeats famously declared to rioters against Seán O'Casey's pacifist
drama The Plough and the Stars, in reference to the "Playboy Riots": "You have
disgraced yourself again, is this to be the recurring celebration of the arrival of Irish
genius?".
Works
• In the Shadow of the Glen, 1903
• Riders to the Sea, 1904
• The Well of the Saints, 1905
• The Aran Islands, 1907
• The Playboy of the Western World, 1907
• The Tinker's Wedding, 1908
• Poems and Translations, 1909
• Deirdre of the Sorrows 1910
• In Wicklow and West Kerry, 1912
Riders to the Sea
• A play written by Irish Literary Renaissance playwright John Millington Synge.
• It was first performed on 25 February 1904 at the Molesworth Hall, Dublin, by the Irish
National Theater Society.
• A one-act tragedy, the play is set in the Aran Island, Inishmaan, and like all of Synge's
plays it is noted for capturing the poetic dialogue of rural Ireland.
• The plot is based not on the traditional conflict of human wills but on the hopeless
struggle of a people against the impersonal but relentless cruelty of the sea.
Background
• In 1897, J. M. Synge was encouraged by his friend and colleague William Butler Yeats to
visit the Aran islands.
• He went on to spend the summers of 1898 through 1903 there.
• While on the Aran island of Inishmaan, Synge heard the story of a man from Inishmaan
whose body washed up on the shore of the island of Donegal, which inspired Riders to
the Sea.

192. • Riders to the Sea is written in the dialect of the Aran islands: Hyberno-English. (Synge's
use of native Irish/Gaelic language is part of the Irish Literary Renaissance, a period
when Irish literature looked to encourage pride and nationalism in Ireland.)

Important characters
• Maurya: Grief-stricken widow and mother of eight children Cathleen, Nora, Bartley,
Shawn, Sheamus, Stephen, Patch, and Michael.
• Cathleen: Maurya's eldest daughter, tries to keep her mother from dying from grief by
identifying her deceased brother Michael's clothing.
• Nora: Maurya's youngest daughter, helps her sister with their mother.
• Bartley: Maurya's youngest and only living son, has died by the end of the play.
• Maurya's sons Shawn, Sheamus, Stephen, Patch, and Michael, as well as Maurya's
husband are all deceased when the play begins.
• There is also a priest character who is never seen but is quoted by Cathleen and Nora in
the beginning of the play.
Plot synopsis
• Maurya has lost her husband, and five of her sons to the sea.
• As the play begins Nora and Cathleen receive word from the priest that a body, that may
be their brother Michael, has washed up on shore in Donegal, the island farthest north of
their home island of Inishmaan.
• Bartley is planning to sail to Connemara to sell a horse, and ignores Maurya's pleas to
stay. He leaves gracefully.
• Maurya predicts that by nightfall she will have no living sons, and her daughters chide
her for sending Bartley off with an ill word. Maurya goes after Bartley to bless his
voyage, and Nora and Cathleen receive clothing from the drowned corpse that confirms it
is their brother.
• Maurya returns home claiming to have seen the ghost of Michael riding behind Bartley
and begins lamenting the loss of the men in her family to the sea, after which some
villagers bring in the corpse of Bartley, who has fallen off his horse into the sea and
drowned.
This speech of Maurya's is famous in Irish drama:
(raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people around her) They're
all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to me.... I'll have no call
now to be up crying and praying when the wind breaks from the south, and you can
hear the surf is in the east, and the surf is in the west, making a great stir with the
two noises, and they hitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down
and getting Holy Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care what
way the sea is when the other women will be keening. (To Nora) Give me the Holy
Water, Nora; there's a small sup still on the dresser.
Summary

193. This short play is about the calamities inflicted by the sea on a family of fishermen on an island
to the west of Ireland. The scene is laid in the kitchen of a small cottage. The fishing net kept
there indicates that these people earn their living by catching fish. The spinning wheel kept there
indicates that these people spin their own yarn and weave their own clothes.
There are some white boards standing against the wall. Since there are no trees on the island,
these boards have been obtained from the mainland. These boards indicate that someone has
recently died there and a coffin is to be made for his burial. The cottage is very close to the sea.
The island is one of a group known as Aran Islands. Synge went to these islands at the
suggestion of W.B. Yeats and spent a long time there, studying the lives of the islanders and
making a note of the language spoken by them. The incident included in this one-act play is
based on the stones that Synge was told by the inhabitants of these islands. The language is based
on the conversations he had actually heard among the islanders. When the curtain rises, we see
Cathleen, a girl of about 20, kneading flour. She completes this work and puts the dough in the
oven by the fire. She then starts spinning yarn with the spinning wheel. Her younger sister, Nora,
now appears at the door. She has a small bundle of clothes which she is hiding under her shawl.
She asks her sister where their mother is. Cathleen replies that their mother is lying in the other
room, and perhaps sleeping if she can get any sleep. Nora comes to the kitchen and tells her
sister that the bundle had been given to her by the young priest. The bundle contains a shirt and a
plain stocking which had been removed from the body of a man who was drowned and whose
was washed ashore in Donegal. He was given a decent burial by the people there. Michael, their
brother, had been drowned in the sea, nine days back and the whole family, especially their
mother, Maurya, was in deep mourning. They had been looking for Michael's body to be washed
ashore so that they could give him a, clean burial. They had obtained the white boards from the
mainland to make a coffin for Michael. But the body hasn't appeared so far. The young priest
told Nora that if those clothes belonged to Michael they would be pleased to know that his body
had been decently buried in Donegal. The priest added that if those clothes did not belong to
Michael, Nora should not mention anything about them to her mother because this will give her
greater pain and she will almost kill herself with lamentation. Cathleen says that their last
surviving brother, Bartley, was planning to go that day by sea to the mainland to sell his horses at
the Galway fair, and she asks Nora whether she had asked the young priest if he would stop
Bartley from going. Nora replies that the young priest told her that he won't stop him from going,
but he told her not to be afraid of his safety. Her mother prays to God almighty up to midnight
and so God would not make her utterly helpless by taking away her last surviving son. Cathleen
asks Nora whether the sea appears to be rough near the rocks. Nora says that the sea is bad, but
not very bad. There is a great roaring sound coming from the west, and it will get worse when
the tide turns. Nora asks her sister whether she should open the bundle of clothes. Cathleen says
that they would take a long time in identifying the clothes because both of them are crying and in
the meantime, it is possible that their mother might wake up and come there. Nora hears sounds
of Mauya's movements. Cathleen suggests that the bundle should be hidden in the turf kept in the
loft where Maurya cannot see them. When she goes to the seaside to see whether Michael's body
has been washed ashore they can open the bundle. They put up a ladder and Cathleen goes up
and hides the bundle in the turf. Maurya now enters the kitchen and she is surprised to find
Cathleen near the turf. She asks her whether they did not have enough fuel for the day. Cathleen
explains that they are baking a cake and so they need more fuel. The cake would be needed by
Bartley, if he goes to Connemara. Maurya says that Bartley must not go on this day because the
wind is rising from the south and the west. She is sure that the young priest will stop him from

194. going. Nora says that the priest will not stop him and heard some of the people in the village
saying that he would definitely go. He has gone down to find out whether there would be another
boat to the mainland this week. Just then Bartley comes and he seems to be in a hurry. He asks
Cathleen about the new rope that they had bought in Connemara. The rope is hanging on a nail
and Nora gives it to him. Maurya asks him not to take the rope. When Michael's body is found,
they will dig a deep grave for him and the rope will be needed for lowering the coffin in the
grave. Bartley says that he needs the rope to make a halter for the red mare and he has to go
quickly because the boat is about to leave and there won't be another boat for two weeks or more.
People are saying that this will be a good fair for the sale of horses and he wants to sell his red
mare and Michael's gray pony. Maurya objects to Bartley's going on the ground that if Michael's
body is found there would be no male member in the house to make the coffin out of the white
boards that she has purchased. Bartley says that there is no possibility of the body being washed
up because there is a strong wind blowing from the west and south. Maurya says that the
indications are that the sea will become rough now and she does not want him to take the risk of
crossing the sea to go to the mainland at this time. He is her only son now and he is more
precious to her than even a thousand horses. Bartley pays no heed to his mother's words and
continues making the halter. He asks Cathleen to take care of the sheep and to sell the pig with
the black feet if she gets a good price for it. He asks the sisters to gather enough sea-weed. He
says that they will face a lot of difficulty now because there is only one male member left in the
house to do all the work. When Maurya finds that Bartley is determined to go, she says that the
family will have real difficulty when he too is drowned like the rest of the male members of the
family. She asks him how she, an old woman, will live and provide for the girls if he undertakes
this trip and is drowned. Bartley ignores his mother's objections and is determined to go. He asks
Nora to see if the boat is coming towards the pier. Nora sees that the boat is passing near the
green head and getting ready to stop at the pier. Bartley takes his purse and tobacco and gets
ready to go. He says that he will come back in two days or three days or perhaps, four days if the
wind is bad. Maurya now becomes desperate and she says that he is a hard and cruel man who
does not listen to his old mother who is trying to hold him back from going to the sea. Cathleen
now takes her brother's side and says that it is natural for a young man to want to go to the sea
and their mother is unnecessarily saying the same thing over and over again. Bartley now picks
up the halter which he has made from the rope and says that he must go quickly. He would ride
on the red mare and the gray pony would run behind him. Bartley leaves after invoking God’s
blessings on them all. Maurya is grief-stricken as Bartley leaves. She does not give her blessings
to him. She has a sign that now he will not come home alive. She says that he is gone and they
will not see him again, and when the black night comes she will have no son left in the world.
Cathleen takes her mother to task for sending Bartley away without blessing him. She had said
very unlucky words when Bartley was going on a dangerous voyage. They were already grief-
stricken due to the death of Michael and Maurya's words are likely to add to their sorrow.
Cathleen then remembers that she has forgotten to give the cake to Bartley. Nora says that
Bartley has eaten nothing since the morning and he will reach the mainland only at night, and he
will be miserable due to hunger. Cathleen takes the cakes out of the oven and blames her mother
for her own forgetfulness. She says that nobody can have sons in a house where an old woman
keeps on talking all the time. Cathleen cuts a piece of the cake and wraps it in a piece of cloth.
She suggests to her mother to take this in the spring well and give it to Bartley when he passes
near this place on his way to the pier. If she invokes God's blessings on Bartley now the evil
effect of the unlucky words that she spoke earlier will be neutralized. She can meet Bartley, if

195. she goes quickly. Maurya takes the bread and stands up unsteadily. She is old and weak and
finds it difficult to walk. Cathleen asks Nora to give her the stick which Michael brought from
Connemara. Maurya takes the stick and comments that in the outside world the older people
leave things to be used by the younger people, but in this place young men die first and leave
things to be used by older people. (Michael has died and his stick is being used by his mother).
She goes out slowly. When Maurya goes out, Nora takes the ladder and goes up to the loft and
throws down the bundle. She says that the young priest would come back to the island the next
day and they should inform him if these clothes are definitely Michael's. He had told her how the
body had been found. Two men were rowing with poteen early in the morning and the oar of one
of them caught the body and they brought it to Donegal. Cathleen cut the string and opened the
bundle. It contained a shirt and a stocking. Nora says that she would get Michael's shirt which is
hanging there and compare the flannel that of the two. But that shirt was not there. Cathleen says
that probably Bartley put on that shirt that morning because his own shirt was heavy with salt in
it. But there was a bit of a sleeve of the same material. The stuff was the same, but Cathleen says
that a lot of that material is available in shops and so someone else might have got a shirt of the
same material. Nora counted the stitches of the stocking. It had fifty-six stitches. Nora
remembered that this was the number of stitches in the stocking which she stitched for Michael.
They are now certain that the body that had been found in Donegal was Michael's. They both
start crying because now they are certain that Michael is drowned. Nora throws her arms on the
clothes and says that it is very sad that this is all that is left of Michael who was a great rower
and fisherman. As they are weeping they hear the sound of Maurya's footsteps, and they become
quiet. They decide to keep the clothes away and not to tell their mother about them while Bartley
is on the sea. They put the bundle in a hole in the chimney-corner. Cathleen starts her work at the
spinning-wheel. Nora sits down at the chimney-corner. Maurya comes into the house very
slowly. The cloth with the bread is still in her hands. She sits down on her stool by the fire and
starts wailing. Cathleen tells her not to lament for Michael but to tell them whether she saw
Bartley. Maurya says that her heart is broken because she has seen a frightful vision. She saw
Bartley is riding the red mare and she also saw Michael is riding the gray pony which was
running behind. Cathleen feels that she must now tell her mother about Michael's clothes. So she
tells her mother that she could not have seen Michael because Michael's dead body has been
found in Donegal and he has been given a decent burial by the people there. Maurya, however,
says that she saw Michael is riding the gray pony and wearing fine clothes and new shoes. She
wanted to give her blessings to Bartley when he rode past her, but the words stuck in her throat.
Cathleen begins to lament and says that they are ruined from this day. She feels that the vision
means that Bartley will die and they will be left absolutely helpless. Nora tries to console her
mother and sister by saying that the young priest has said that God will not leave her utterly
helpless by taking away her last surviving son. But these do not console Maurya. She says that
persons like the young priest have no idea of the ways of the sea. She has a sign that Bartley will
be drowned now. She wants the girls to call Eamon and make a good coffin out of the white
boards for her, for she won't live after all her sons are dead. Or the coffin can be used to bury
Michael. Maurya recalls that she had her husband and her husband's father and six sons in this
house. Her sons were six fine men, though she had a lot of trouble in giving birth to them. They
have all been lost in the sea. The bodies of some of them were found, while those of the others
were not found at all. Stephen and Shawn were drowned in the great storm and their bodies were
found in the Bay of Gregory and brought to the house on one plank. Cathleen and Nora now hear
some noises coming from the seashore. Maurya, however, does not hear anything and continues

196. her description of her calamities. Sheamus, his father and grandfather were lost together on a
dark night and their bodies were not recovered at all. Patch was drowned when his curragh (boat)
got overturned. She was sitting at that time with Bartley, who was a small child, on her knees
and first two women came, then three came and then four women came. They were making signs
of the cross and not saying a word. Then some men brought the dead body of Patch wrapped in a
red sail with water dripping out of it. As Maurya was describing the way in which the body of
Patch was brought, the scene is re-enacted. Women start coming to the house crossing
themselves and kneeling down with red petticoats over their heads. Maurya was utterly confused
and in a sort of a dream. She asks Cathleen, who has died—Patch or Michael. Cathleen replies
that Michael's body has been found in the far north. Maurya asks how they could recognize the
body after it had been in the sea for nine days. Cathleen explains that they had sent the clothes
taken out of that body and they were sure that these clothes belonged to Michael. Cathleen gives
the clothes to her mother. Just then Nora sees some men coming towards their house carrying
something wrapped in a sail from which water was dripping. Cathleen asks the women, whether
they are bringing Bartley's body. One of the women replies that it is definitely Bartley's body.
The younger women pull out the table and the men place Bartley's body, wrapped in a sail, on it.
Cathleen asks the women how Bartley was drowned. The woman replies that the gray pony
knocked him into the sea and the strong current took him into the deep sea and dashed him
against the white rocks. Maurya now goes and kneels at the head of the table. The women are
wailing softly and swaying their bodies to and fro. Cathleen and Nora kneel at the other end of
the table. The men kneel near the door. Maurya then raises her hand and speaks as if there is
nobody around her. She says that all the male members of her family are gone now. The sea has
done the maximum damage possible and it cannot do any more harm to her. In the past when
there was a storm on the sea and she could hear the strong waves striking against each other, she
used to keep praying to God for the safety of her menfolk who were on the high seas. She used to
and get Holy water in the dark nights after Samhain and she did various rituals with this water.
Now she will have no worry about storms and rough seas and she will have no need to get the
Holy Water. She asks Nora to give her the Holy Water which is still there. She drops Michael's
clothes over Bartley's feet and sprinkles Holy Water on the clothes and on Bartley's dead body.
She says that she has prayed so much for Bartley on dark nights that sometimes she did not know
what she was saying. Now that there is no son left, she would have no need to pray for someone
and so she will have a great rest and peace. She will be able to sleep during the long winter
nights after Samhain (all Souls' Day-1st November). Since there is no bread-winner left in the
family, she will have very great difficulty. She and her two daughters will now get only wet flour
and some stinking fish. But she will have rest and peace of mind. She kneels down again, makes
the sign of the cross and prays silently. Cathleen now turns to an old man and requests him to
come next day along with Eamon and make a coffin for Bartley. She tells him that her mother
had purchased white boards for a coffin to be made for Michael when his body was found. Now
these boards can be used to make a coffin for Bartley. She adds that she has made a cake which
they can eat while they are making the coffin. The old man looks at the boards and asks whether
nails have been bought. Cathleen replies that they had not thought of the nails. At this another
man comments that it is strange that Maurya who has seen so many coffins being made in her
house, did not think of nails. Cathleen says that she is getting old and has been shattered by grief
and so she is getting forgetful. Maurya stands up again very slowly, spreads out Michael's
clothes beside Bartley's body and sprinkles the last drops of Holy Water on them. Nora says to
Cathleen in a whisper that their mother was very quiet now, but when the news came that

197. Michael was drowned, she cried so much that one could hear the sound of her lamentation from
this place in the spring well. She says, "I think that she loved Michael more than Bartley but
nobody could have thought that possible". Cathleen replies that that is not the reason. An old
woman soon gets tired of what she has been doing. She was wailing and moaning for nine days
and now she is tired of it. That is why she is quiet now. Now Maurya stops complaining and
stoically accepts her fate. Death has to come to everyone. So if someone dies the survivors
should give him a decent burial and pray for his soul and remain satisfied. Maurya acts in this
spirit. She lays her hands on Bartley's feet and says, 'The souls of my husband and all my sons
are together in the other world now. May God almighty have mercy on Bartley's soul and on
Michael's soul and on the souls of Sheamus, Patch, Stephen and Shawn and on my soul and on
the soul of all those persons who are still living in the world." She pauses a little and the wailing
of the women rises and then subsides. Maurya continues, "Michael has got a decent burial, in the
far north and for Bartley a fine coffin will be made out of the whiteboards and we shall bury him
in a deep grave. What more can one want? No man can live forever and so we must be satisfied"
The play ends on this note of submission before fate and mortality.










Samuel Barclay Beckett (1906 –1989)
• An Irish avant-garde novelist, playwright, theatre director, and poet, who lived
in Paris for most of his adult life and wrote in both English and French.
• His work offers a bleak, tragicomic outlook on human existence, often coupled
with black comedy and gallows humour.
• Beckett is widely regarded as among the most influential writers of the 20th century.
• He is considered one of the last modernists. As an inspiration to many later writers, he is
also sometimes considered one of the first postmodernists.
• He is one of the key writers in what Martin Esslin called the "Theatre of the Absurd".
His work became increasingly minimalist in his later career.
• Beckett was awarded the 1969 Nobel Prize in Literature "for his writing, which—in new
forms for the novel and drama—in the destitution of modern man acquires its elevation".
• He was elected Saoi of Aosdána in 1984.
• Saoi: literally "wise one"; historically the title of the head of a bardic school is the highest
honour bestowed by Aosdána, a state-supported association of Irish creative artists.

198. • The title is awarded for life and held by at most seven people at a time. At the conferring
ceremony, a torc (a twist/spiral of gold, worn around the neck) is presented to the Saoi,
typically by the President of Ireland.
• Beckett was introduced to renowned Irish author James Joyce by Thomas MacGreevy, a
poet and close confidant of Beckett who also worked there. This meeting had a profound
effect on the young man. Beckett assisted Joyce in various ways, one of which was
research towards the book that became Finnegans Wake.
• In 1929, Beckett published his first work, a critical essay entitled "Dante... Bruno. Vico..
Joyce". The essay defends Joyce's work and method, chiefly from allegations of wanton
obscurity and dimness.
• he won a small literary prize for his hastily composed poem "Whoroscope", which draws
on a biography of René Descartes that Beckett happened to be reading when he was
encouraged to submit.
• n 1945, Beckett returned to Dublin for a brief visit. During his stay, he had a revelation in
his mother’s room: his entire future direction in literature appeared to him. Beckett had
felt that he would remain forever in the shadow of Joyce, certain to never best him at his
own game. His revelation prompted him to change direction and to acknowledge both his
own stupidity and his interest in ignorance and impotence:
• "I realized that Joyce had gone as far as one could in the direction of knowing more,
[being] in control of one’s material. He was always adding to it; you only have to look at
his proofs to see that. I realized that my own way was in impoverishment, in lack of
knowledge and in taking away, in subtracting rather than in adding."
• Knowlson argues that "Beckett was rejecting the Joycean principle that knowing more
was a way of creatively understanding the world and controlling it ... In future, his work
would focus on poverty, failure, exile and loss – as he put it, on man as a 'non-knower'
and as a 'non-can-er.'"The revelation "has rightly been regarded as a pivotal moment in
his entire career." Beckett fictionalised the experience in his play Krapp's Last
Tape (1958). While listening to a tape he made earlier in his life, Krapp hears his younger
self say "clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in
reality my most...", at which point Krapp fast-forwards the tape (before the audience can
hear the complete revelation). Beckett later explained to Knowlson that the missing
words on the tape are "precious ally"
• Beckett is most famous for his play En attendant Godot (1953) (Waiting for Godot). In a
much-quoted article, the critic Vivian Mercier wrote that Beckett "has achieved a
theoretical impossibility—a play in which nothing happens, that yet keeps audiences
glued to their seats. What's more, since the second act is a subtly different reprise of the
first, he has written a play in which nothing happens, twice." Like most of his works after
1947, the play was first written in French with the title En attendant Godot. Beckett
worked on the play between October 1948 and January 1949. He published it in 1952 and
it premièred in 1953; an English translation appeared two years later. Directed by Roger
Blin, the play was a critical, popular, and controversial success in Paris.

199. • Beckett translated all of his works into English himself, with the exception of Molloy, for
which he collaborated with Patrick Bowles. The success ofWaiting for Godot opened up a
career in theatre for its author. Beckett went on to write successful full-length plays,
including Fin de partie(Endgame) (1957), Krapp's Last Tape (1958, written in
English), Happy Days (1961, also written in English), and Play (1963). In 1961, Beckett
received the International Publishers' Formentor Prize in recognition of his work, which
he shared that year with Jorge Luis Borges.
• His wife Suzanne died on 17 July 1989. Confined to a nursing home and suffering
from emphysema and possibly Parkinson's disease, Beckett died on 22 December. The
two were interred together in the Cimetière du Montparnasse in Paris and share a simple
granite gravestone that follows Beckett's directive that it should be "any colour, so long
as it's grey.
Legacy
• Of all the English-language modernists, Beckett's work represents the most sustained
attack on the realist tradition. He opened up the possibility of theatre and fiction that
dispense with conventional plot and the unities of time and place in order to focus on
essential components of the human condition.
• Václav Havel, John Banville, Aidan Higgins, Tom Stoppard, Harold Pinter and Jon
Fosse have publicly stated their indebtedness to Beckett's example. He has had a wider
influence on experimental writing since the 1950s, from theBeat generation to the
happenings of the 1960s and after.
[51]
In an Irish context, he has exerted great influence
on poets such as Derek Mahon and Thomas Kinsella, as well as writers like Trevor
Joyce and Catherine Walsh who proclaim their adherence to the modernist tradition as an
alternative to the dominant realist mainstream.
• Many major 20th-century composers including Luciano Berio, György Kurtág, Morton
Feldman, Pascal Dusapin, Scott Fields, Philip Glass, Roman Haubenstock-
Ramati and Heinz Holliger have created musical works based on Beckett's texts. His
work has also influenced numerous international writers, artists and filmmakers
including Edward Albee, Avigdor Arikha, Paul Auster, J.M. Coetzee,

Richard
Kalich, Douglas Gordon, Bruce Nauman, Anthony Minghella,

and Damian Pettigrew.
• Beckett is one of the most widely discussed and highly prized of 20th-century authors,
inspiring a critical industry to rival that which has sprung up around James Joyce. He has
divided critical opinion. Some early philosophical critics, such as Sartre and Theodor
Adorno, praised him, one for his revelation of absurdity, the other for his works' critical
refusal of simplicities; others such as Georg Lukács condemn for 'decadent' lack
of realism.
Dramatic works
Theatre
• Human Wishes (c. 1936; published 1984)
• Eleutheria (written 1947 in French; published in French 1995, and English 1996)
• En attendant Godot (published 1952, performed,1953) (Waiting for Godot, pub.1954, perf.
1955)
[63]

200. • Acte sans Paroles I (1956); Act Without Words I (1957)
• Acte sans Paroles II (1956); Act Without Words II (1957)
• Fin de partie (published 1957); Endgame (published 1957)
• Krapp's Last Tape (first performed 1958)
• Fragment de théâtre I (late 1950s); Rough for Theatre I
• Fragment de théâtre II (late 1950s); Rough for Theatre II
• Happy Days (first performed 1961); Oh les beaux jours (published 1963)
• Play (performed in German, as Spiel, 1963; English version 1964)
• Come and Go (first performed in German, then English, 1966)
• Breath (first performed 1969)
• Not I (first performed 1972)
• That Time (first performed 1976)
• Footfalls (first performed 1976)
• Neither (1977) (An "opera", music by Morton Feldman)
• A Piece of Monologue (first performed 1979)
• Rockaby (first performed 1981)
• Ohio Impromptu (first performed 1981)
• Catastrophe (Catastrophe et autres dramatiques, first performed 1982)
• What Where (first performed 1983)

Novels
• Dream of Fair to Middling Women (written 1932; published 1992)
• Murphy (1938); 1947 Beckett's French version
• Watt (1953); 1968, Beckett's French version
• Molloy (1951); English version (1955)
• Malone meurt (1951); Malone Dies (1956)
• L'innommable (1953); The Unnamable (1958)
• Comment c'est (1961); How It Is (1964)
• Mercier and Camier (written 1946, published 1970); English translation (1974)

201. Poetry collections
• Whoroscope (1930)
• Echo's Bones and other Precipitates (1935)
• Poèmes (1968, expanded 1976, 1979, 1992) [1]
• Poems in English (1961)
• Collected Poems in English and French (1977)
• What is the Word (1989)
• Selected Poems 1930–1989 (2009)
• The Collected Poems of Samuel Beckett, edited, annotated by Seán Lawlor, John Pilling
(2012, Faber and Faber, 2014, Grove Press
Waiting for Godot
• An absurdist play by Samuel Beckett, in which two characters, Vladimir and Estragon,
wait endlessly and in vain for the arrival of someone named Godot.
• Godot's absence, as well as numerous other aspects of the play, have led to many
interpretations since the play's 1953 premiere.
• It was voted "the most significant English language play of the 20th century".
• Waiting for Godot is Beckett's translation of his own original French version, En
attendant Godot, and is subtitled (in English only) "a tragicomedy in two acts".
• The original French text was composed between 9 October 1948 and 29 January 1949.
• The première was on 5 January 1953 in the Théâtre de Babylone, Paris. The production
was directed by Roger Blin, who also played the role of Pozzo.
• Even though the drama is divided into two acts, there are other natural divisions. For the
sake of discussion, the following, rather obvious, scene divisions will be referred to:

ACT I:
(1) Vladimir and Estragon Alone
(2) Arrival of Pozzo and Lucky: Lucky's Speech
(3) Departure of Pozzo and Lucky: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
(4) Arrival of Boy Messenger
(5) Departure of Boy Messenger: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
ACT II:
(1) Vladimir and Estragon Alone
(2) Arrival of Pozzo and Lucky

202. (3) Departure of Pozzo and Lucky: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
(4) Arrival of Boy Messenger
(5) Departure of Boy Messenger: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• The above divisions of the play are Beckett's way of making a statement about the nature
of the play — that is, the play is circular in structure, and a third act (or even a fourth or
fifth act, etc.) could be added, having the exact same structure.
• But what does it all mean?" is the most frequent statement heard after one has seen or
finished reading a play from the Theater of the Absurd movement.
• No definite conclusion or resolution can ever be offered to Waiting for Godot because the
play is essentially circular and repetitive in nature.
Summary and Analysis
Act I: Vladimir and Estragon
• The rising curtain exposes a landscape that is strange and alien. It most resembles some
strange place in outer space with its haunting and brooding sense of despair. A country
road or an actual lonely road is the main setting, and there is a single tree. We know there
is a ditch on the other side of the road because immediately Estragon tells Vladimir that
he slept last night in the ditch.
• The loneliness and the isolation of the setting sets the tone for the play. The idea of a road
implies a journey, a movement, a purpose to life, but we see, instead, two deserted,
isolated figures with no place to go and with no journey to look forward to. These figures
are dressed in rags and tatters, clothes that would be worn by two tramps in an old,
second-rate burlesque production. Thus the setting and the clothing make an ominous
comment before we are too far into the drama.
• The play opens with Estragon involved in a tremendous struggle — but not a struggle of
a highly metaphysical nature; instead, it is a physical struggle to get his stuck boot off his
sore foot.
• The struggle has literally exhausted him, and he gives up the struggle with the opening
words of the play: "Nothing to be done" (emphasis ours). Estragon's words are repeated
two more times by Vladimir in the next moments of the play, and variations of this
phrase become one of the central statements of the drama.
• The phrase is innocent enough in itself and obviously directed toward a specific struggle
the removal of the boot. But as frustrating as the boot is, this is still a minor concern
when compared to what Estragon and Vladimir are to do with the problem of waiting for
Godot. In response to Estragon's struggle with his foot, Vladimir ignores the immediate
physical problem but agrees with Estragon metaphysically that there is "nothing to be
done," even though he has not "yet tried everything."
• Thus the two opening speeches, innocent and simple enough in themselves, set the tone
for the entire drama. The words carry a foreboding overtone which will be later
associated with the word "appalled," or as Vladimir calls it, "AP-PALLED," and also the
two tramps' inability to laugh.

203. • After the opening words, we find that the two tramps are linked to each other in some
undefined, ambiguous way. Vladimir greets Estragon with the comment "I thought you
were gone forever," and since they are "together again at last," they will "have to
celebrate." Vladimir then discovers that Estragon spent the night "in a ditch . . . over
there" and that he was beaten by "the same lot as usual." This reference to a beaten man
in a ditch carries overtones of other matters, but cannot be definitely correlated.
• For example, this could be an oblique reference to the biblical story of the Good
Samaritan who finds a man beaten, robbed, and thrown into a ditch and rescues him. But
no Good Samaritan has come to Estragon's rescue. Instead, he has apparently spent the
entire night alone in the ditch, which means that both of them are, as their clothes
indicate, in the most extreme, impoverished condition that they have ever known.
• Estragon remains concerned with his boots; Vladimir, however, is extremely impatient
and finds the conversation about the boots to be profitless. He turns the conversation to
more abstract matters. Very early in the play, then, the difference between the two tramps
is established: Estragon is concerned about immediate, practical problems — the removal
of his boots, the beating, and now his aching foot; Vladimir, in contrast, laments the
general nature of their sufferings by remembering better days that used to be. Whereas
Estragon's foot hurts, Vladimir is concerned with suffering of a different nature.
• The philosophical concept of the nature of suffering is first introduced here by the
contrasting physical ailments of each character: Estragon has sore feet which hurt him,
and Vladimir has some type of painful urinary infection which causes him to suffer; one
character hurts and the other one suffers. Ultimately, the physical disabilities characterize
the two men (an aching foot is easier to locate and describe than is a painful urinary
infection) and also symbolize the various spiritual disabilities of the two characters.
• Vladimir's thoughts shift from his urinary problems to the biblical concept of "Hope
deferred maketh the something sick . . ." but he is unable to complete the proverb.
(See Proverbs 13:12: "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree
of life.") The proverb fits Vladimir and Estragon's condition perfectly since we will see
them in a state of sickness of heart; their hopes are constantly deferred as they continually
wait for Godot, and their desires are never fulfilled since Godot never arrives. Vladimir
then concludes as did Estragon: "Nothing to be done."
• Estragon has not gotten his boot off, and he looks inside it to see what was causing the
difficulty. Vladimir then chastises Estragon for one of man's most common faults:
blaming one's boots for the faults of one's foot. This accusation, of course, refers to the
tendency of all of mankind to blame any external thing — boots, society, circumstances,
etc. — for deficiencies in one's own nature. It is easier for Estragon to blame the boots for
his aching feet than to blame his own feet.
• The idea of Estragon's foot hurting and Vladimir's suffering, combined with their
appalling human condition, causes Vladimir to realize again that there is "nothing to be
done." This suffering and lack of hope turn Vladimir's thoughts to the suffering of the
two thieves on the cross and their lack of hope. Then from the Old Testament proverb
about hope, Vladimir's thoughts turn to the New Testament and the possibility of hope
expressed in the story of Christ and the two thieves on the cross.

204. • There were two thieves, as there are now two tramps, and one of the thieves was saved;
therefore, maybe there may be hope for either Vladimir or Estragon if they repent — but
there is nothing to repent of, except being born. This remark causes "Vladimir to break
into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles," and he reminds Estragon that "one
daren't even laugh any more"; one may "merely smile." This comment is another early
indication of the seriousness of their condition. Vladimir's apprehension over laughing
suggests that they both have a nagging awareness of the precariousness and insecurity of
their condition, a condition that extends beyond their physical concerns.
• In the discussion of the thieves, Estragon is unable to participate fully because he can't
remember the details. In frustration, Vladimir yells to Estragon: "Come on . . . return the
ball can't you, once in a way?" Vladimir's complaint is descriptive of much of the
dialogue in the remainder of the play; it is very much like two people playing a game
with one another and one is unable to keep the ball in play.
• Estragon constantly fails to "keep the ball in play"; that is, throughout the drama, he is
unable to sustain his end of the conversation. Even in response to the matter of being
saved "from hell" or "from death," Estragon merely replies, "Well what of it?" Therefore,
even if they were to repent, Estragon can't understand what they might be saved from,
who their savior would be, and, furthermore, why the four Gospels differ so significantly.
The discussion is brought firmly to a close with Estragon's pronouncement: "People are
bloody ignorant apes."
• From this discussion, the two tramps confront the central problem of the play. Estragon
looks about the bleak, desolate landscape and tells Vladimir: "Let's go." The recurring
thematic refrain is then put forth: they can't leave because they are "waiting for Godot."
• They are not sure they are in the right place; they are not sure they are here on the correct
day; they are not sure what day of the week it is (maybe it is yesterday); they think they
were to meet Godot on Saturday, but if today is Saturday, is it the right Saturday? At
least, they are fairly certain that they were to meet by a tree, and there is only one tree on
the horizon, but it could be either a bush or a dead tree. The tree, whatever its symbolic
value (the cross, the hanging tree, spring's renewal), is a rather pathetic specimen and
cannot be a very hopeful sign. Completely frustrated, they resign themselves to waiting.
Vladimir paces, and Estragon sleeps.
• Suddenly, Vladimir, feeling lonely, awakens Estragon, who awakens from his dream with
a start. Estragon wants to tell about his dream (or nightmare), but Vladimir refuses to
listen to it. Estragon's nightmare, even without its subject being revealed, symbolizes the
various fears that these tramps feel in this alienated world. Vladimir's refusal to listen
suggests his fear and apprehension of all of life and of certain things that are best left
unsaid. Estragon, then, unable to tell about his nightmare, tries to tell a joke about an
Englishman in a brothel. Again Vladimir refuses to listen and walks off.
• Estragon's attempt to tell his nightmare and then his attempt to tell the joke about the
Englishman — a story that is never finished represent an effort to pass the time while the
two are waiting for Godot. Since they have been waiting and will be waiting for an
indeterminate time, the essential problem is what to do with one's life while waiting, how
to pass the time while waiting.

205. • When Vladimir returns, the two embrace and then they try to decide what they are going
to do while waiting. During the embrace, the tender, fraternal rapport of the moment is
suddenly broken by Estragon's mundane observation that Vladimir smells of garlic. This
technique is typical of Beckett's method of deflating man's pretensions by allowing the
absurd and the vulgar to dominate the action.
• The eternal question returns: what to do while waiting? Estragon suggests that perhaps
they could hang themselves. That would certainly put an end to their waiting. Hanging
also has another incentive: it would excite them sexually and cause each to have an
erection and an ejaculation. But the matter of hanging creates some problems. Vladimir
should hang himself first because he is the heaviest. If the straggly tree does not break
under Vladimir's heavier weight, then it would be strong enough for Estragon's lighter
weight. But if Estragon went first, the tree might break when Vladimir tried it, and then
Estragon (Gogo) would be dead, and poor Vladimir (Didi) would be alive and completely
alone.
• These considerations are simply too weighty to solve. Man's attempts to solve things
rationally bring about all types of difficulties; it is best to do nothing — "It's safer."
Accordingly, they decide to "wait and see what [Godot] says," hoping that he, or
someone, will make a decision about them or that something will be done for them. They
will make no effort to change their rather intolerable and impossible situation, but,
instead, they will hope that someone or some objective event will eventually change
things for them.
• Having resolved to wait for Godot, they then wonder what he might offer them and, even
more important, "what exactly did we ask him for?" Whatever it was they asked him for,
Godot was equally vague and equivocal in his reply. Maybe he is at home thinking it
over, consulting friends, correspondents, banks, etc. The tramps' entire discussion about
Godot indicates how little, if indeed anything at all, they know of this Godot. The fact
that Vladimir can't remember what they asked of Godot indicates that they are unable to
understand their own needs. They rely on someone else to tell them what they need.
• Similarly, the request and the possible response are discussed in terms of a person
requesting a bank loan or some type of financial transaction. A philosophical question
then begins to emerge: how does one relate to Godot? If he is God, can one enter into a
business contract with this person? And if so, where is He? If Godot (or God) has to
consult many outside sources before replying or appearing, then Vladimir and Estragon's
condition is not very reassuring. And, if, as it now begins to become obvious, Vladimir
and Estragon represent modern man in his relationship with God (Godot), then the
modern condition of man is disturbingly precarious.
• What, then, is man in this modern world? He is a beggar or a tramp reduced to the most
dire circumstances: he is lost, not knowing where to turn. He is denied all rights, even the
right to laugh:
ESTRAGON: We've no rights anymore?
VLADIMIR: You'd make me laugh if it wasn't prohibited.
• Furthermore, they are reduced to crawling "on [their] hands and knees." Of course, in
ancient cultures, man always approached a deity on his hands and knees. But in Beckett's

206. dramas, a character's physical condition is correlated with his spiritual condition; all
outward aspects of the two tramps reflect man's inward condition.
• In a feeble attempt to assert their freedom, Estragon murmurs that they are not tied, but
his assertion does not carry much conviction. The assertion, however feeble, that they are
not tied might suggest man's revolt from God, because as soon as the idea of revolt is
verbalized, they immediately hear a noise as though someone is approaching — Godot or
God — to chastise them for heresy. They huddle together in fear:
ESTRAGON: You gave me a fright.
VLADIMIR: I thought it was he.
ESTRAGON: Who?
VLADIMIR: Godot.
• After the discussion of whether or not they are tied has occupied their thoughts, Vladimir
gives Estragon their last carrot to eat. Now they have only a turnip left to eat, and these
reduced circumstances make it necessary for them to continue to wait for Godot and
possible salvation.
• While eating his carrot, Estragon ruminates further about being
"tied" or "ti-ed." Even though Vladimir feebly asserts that they are not tied, we noted that
they are indeed tied to the idea of waiting. They cannot assert themselves; they have
ceased struggling; there is even "no use wriggling." They are merely two stranded figures
on an alien landscape who have given up struggling and are dependent upon waiting for
Godot, realizing there is "nothing to be done." Thus, the play opens, and this section
closes on the same note: nothing to be done.


Act I: Arrival of Pozzo and Lucky
• As Vladimir and Estragon sit in peaceful resignation to their condition, a loud cry
destroys the quietness and terrifies them. They immediately run to hide, huddling
together and "cringing away from the menace." Suddenly Pozzo and Lucky arrive on the
scene. Lucky has a rope around his neck and is being driven forward by Pozzo, who is
brandishing a whip.
• This sudden, surprise entrance lacks only the flair of a drum roll and a band to give the
entrance a highly theatrical, circus atmosphere. In the same way that Vladimir and
Estragon are parodies of the circus clown or burlesque tramp, we now have the
appearance of a character resembling a circus ringmaster and his trained animal.
Throughout this scene, circus imagery is used to suggest that life itself can be seen as a
circus, and one which will soon be brought to an abrupt end.
• Vladimir and Estragon are in awe of' the forceful manner in which Pozzo seems to be in
control of Lucky; he seems to absolutely dominate the poor creature. Noting
his omnipotence and authority,they inquire about the possibility of this man's being
Godot. The mere fact that they have to ask, however, emphasizes their ignorance about

207. the identity and true nature of Godot, the entity whom they are waiting for. They can't
even explain Godot to Pozzo:
VLADIMIR: . . . he's a kind of acquaintance.
ESTRAGON: Personally, I wouldn't even know him if' I saw him.
• Throughout the scene, Pozzo conducts himself not only as a ringmaster, but also as a
person far superior to the two tramps whom he condescends to spend some time with,
even though he barely recognizes them as belonging to the same species. Furthermore,
Vladimir and Estragon recognize Pozzo's seeming superiority and are dutifully obeisant
to him, even after they discover that he is not Godot.
• With the arrival of Pozzo and Lucky, we see how two people arephysically tied to each
other. Estragon and Vladimir are tied to each other by abstract bonds and also by their
common act of waiting for Godot, but Lucky is literally and physically tied to Pozzo.
And whereas Vladimir and Estragon are waiting, Pozzo and Lucky seem to be going—
but where they are going is not stated.
• After denying all knowledge of Godot, Pozzo magnanimously decides to rest for awhile.
Even though Vladimir and Estragon are terribly inferior to him, Pozzo recognizes that
they are "human beings none the less . . . of the same species as Pozzo! Made in God's
image!" Thus, Pozzo recognizes these clowns (tramps) as belonging to the same species,
albeit they are very imperfect specimens of the species, and he condescends to rest
because he has been traveling for six hours without seeing a soul.
• After rather elaborate preparations for settling himself, involving his ordering Lucky to
set up a stool and picnic, Pozzo sits down to enjoy a meal of chicken and wine. Vladimir
and Estragon begin an investigation of Lucky. Pozzo had earlier called the poor fellow
"pig" and "hog." Vladimir, in particular, is appalled by Pozzo's treatment of Lucky and is
quick to discover a running sore on Lucky's neck. The two conclude that Lucky is a
"halfwit ... a cretin." The irony here lies in the levels of humanity which Estragon and
Vladimir fail to grasp — that is, Lucky is very much like Pozzo, and he is also very much
like the tramps; he is a member of the same species, and his predicament emphasizes the
essential oneness of us all.
• After Pozzo has finished eating his chicken, Estragon notices the bones lying in the ditch
and, to Vladimir's embarrassment, asks Pozzo if he can have the bones. Pozzo refers the
matter to Lucky since Lucky has the first right to the bones. Lucky, however, ignores all
the questions, and Estragon receives the bones. Meanwhile, Vladimir continues to be
shocked by Pozzo's treatment of Lucky. He tries to express his horror over the situation
only to be ignored. Vladimir wants to leave, but he is reminded that they must meet
Godot.
• Pozzo justifies his treatment of Lucky by maintaining that Lucky wants to impress him
with his ability to carry things; yet, in reality, Lucky is very bad in that capacity. A basis
of any relationship can be seen in Pozzo and Lucky's relationship, where one person has a
desire to dominate and command and the other person craves to be dominated and to be a
slave. Pozzo points out that the reverse could have easily been true — that he could have
been, in other chance situations, Lucky's slave.

208. • As Lucky begins to weep upon hearing that he might be sold at the fair and that the world
would be a better place without him ("the best thing would be to kill . . . such creatures"),
Pozzo notes that tears in themselves are not unusual: "The tears of the world are a
constant quality. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops."
Basically, for Beckett, the misery of human existence will always exist, and man must
learn to live with his tears and his misery. For example, when Estragon tries to wipe away
Lucky's tears, Lucky rewards him with a tremendous kick in the shins.
• Estragon, Pozzo, and Vladimir talk in circles with images of the circus and the music hall
dominating their conversation. Pozzo, feeling the need of leaving if he is to keep on his
schedule, undertakes a lyrical explanation of "what our twilights can do." His recitation
goes from lyrical enthusiasm about the nature of the gentleness of the "sky at this hour of
the day" to a realization that more ominous matters lurk "behind this veil of gentleness
and peace" and that, eventually, night "will burst upon us . . . when we least expect it . . .
that's how it is on this bitch of an earth." The seriousness of this speech and its contents
are then undermined when Pozzo lets it be known that he was merely delivering a
pompous, memorized oration.
• Before leaving, Pozzo wishes to express his appreciation to Vladimir and Estragon and
wonders if they have any requests of him. Estragon immediately asks for ten francs (or
even five, if ten is too much), but Vladimir interrupts and asserts that he and Estragon are
not beggars. Pozzo then offers to let Lucky entertain them by dancing, singing, reciting,
or thinking. They decide first on dancing and then on thinking.
Act I: Lucky's Dance and Speech
• Lucky's dance is merely a clumsy shuffling, which is a complete disappointment to
Vladimir and Estragon. Thus they decide to have Lucky think. They give him his hat, and
after protesting Pozzo's brutality, they arrange themselves for Lucky's performance of
thinking. It takes the form of a long, seemingly incoherent speech. The speech is
delivered as a set piece, yet it is anything but a set piece. Under different directors, this
scene can be variously played. For example, Lucky most often speaks directly to the
audience with the other characters at his back, while Vladimir and Estragon become more
and more agitated as the speech progresses. Often Vladimir and Estragon run forward and
try to stop Lucky from continuing his speech. As they try to stop Lucky, he delivers his
oration in rapid-fire shouts. At times, Pozzo pulls on Lucky's rope, making it even more
difficult for him to continue with his speech.
• The frenzied activity on the stage, the rapid delivery of the speech, and the jerking of the
rope make it virtually impossible to tell anything at all about the speech and,
consequently, emphasize the metaphysical absurdity of the entire performance. Lucky's
speech is an incoherent jumble of words which seems to upset Vladimir and Estragon, for
sporadically both rise to protest some element of the speech. Therefore, the speech does
communicate something to the two tramps or else they would not know to protest. The
form of the speech is that of a scholarly, theological address, beginning "Given the
existence . . . of a personal God," but it is actually a parody of this kind of address since
the nonsensical and the absurd elements are in the foreground and the meaningful aspects
of it are totally obscured, as is the God whom Lucky discusses.

209. • Here, we have a combination of the use of scholastic, theological terminology along with
the absurd and the nonsensical. For example, the use of qua (a Latin term meaning "in the
function or capacity of") is common in such scholarly addresses, but Lucky's repetition of
the term as quaquaquaqua creates an absurd, derisive sound, as though God is being
ridiculed by a quacking or squawking sound.
• Furthermore, the speech is filled with various academic sounding words, some real
words like aphasia (a loss of speech; here it refers to the fact that God from his divine
heights now has divine aphasia or a divine silence) and some words
like apathia or athambia which do not exist (even though apathia is closely aligned
to apathy and thus becomes another oblique comment on the apathy of God in the
universe). Other absurd terms are used throughout the speech, and there is also a frequent
use of words which sound obscene, interspersed throughout the speech. As an example,
the names of the scholars Fartov and Belcher are obviously created for their vulgarity.
• Therefore, the speech is filled with more nonsense than sense — more that is illogical
than that which is logical. If, however, we remove the illogical modifiers, irrelevancies,
and incomprehensible statements and place them to the side, the essence of the speech is
as follows:
THE ESSENCE OF LUCKY'S SPEECH
"Given [acknowledging] the existence . . .
of a personal God ...
[who exists] outside [of]
time . . .
[and] who . . .
loves us dearly . . .
and [who] suffers . . .
with those who . . .
are plunged in torment . . .
it is established beyond all doubt . . .
that man . . .
that man . . .
for reasons unknown . . .
for reasons unknown . . .
for reasons unknown . . .
[our] labors abandoned left unfinished . . .
abandoned unfinished . . .
• Lucky's speech is an attempt, however futile, to make a statement about man and God.
Reduced to its essence, the speech is basically as follows:

210. acknowledging the existence of a personal God, one who exists outside of time and who
loves us dearly and who suffers with those who are plunged into torment, it is established
beyond all doubt that man, for reasons unknown, has left his labors abandoned, unfinished.
• It is significant that the speech ends at this point because man can make certain
assumptions about God and create certain hypotheses about God,but man can never come
to a logical conclusion about God. One must finish a discourse about God, as Lucky did,
by repeating "for reasons unknown . . . for reasons unknown . . . for reasons unknown . . .
." And equally important is the fact that any statement made about God is, by its nature,
lost in a maze of irrelevance, absurdity, and incoherence — without an ending. Therefore,
man's final comment about God can amount to nothing more than a bit of garbled noise
which contains no coherent statement and no conclusion. Furthermore, Lucky's
utterances are stopped only after he is physically overpowered by the others.
• After the speech, Pozzo tiles to revive Lucky, who is emotionally exhausted, completely
enervated by his speech. After great difficulty, Pozzo gets Lucky up, and amid protracted
adieus, he begins to go, albeit he begins to go the wrong way. Pozzo's inability to leave
suggests man's reliance upon others and his natural instinct to cling to someone else. But
with one final adieu, Pozzo and Lucky depart.
Act I: Departure of Pozzo and Lucky: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• With the departure of Pozzo and Lucky, Vladimir realizes that he is glad that the episode
helped pass the time. Constantly, the two are faced with finding some way of passing the
time while waiting, even though Estragon philosophically points out that time "would
have passed in any case."
• Thus the entire episode seemingly has no real significance to them. They return to
wondering what they can do now — besides wait for Godot. Since they can do nothing,
they decide to make a little conversation about whether or not they had previously known
Pozzo and Lucky, but no agreement is reached. Estragon then returns to tending his
aching feet.
Act I: Arrival of Boy Messenger
• Out of nowhere a boy with a message from Mr. Godot appears, but the boy is too
frightened to come close to the tramps. They question the boy about his fears and ask him
if he has been here before. Suddenly, the boy delivers his message: "Mr. Godot told me to
tell you he won't come this evening, but surely to-morrow."
• The tramps question the boy about Mr. Godot and discover that the boy tends the goats
for Mr. Godot, that Mr. Godot does not beat him, but that he does beat the boy's brother,
who tends the sheep. Both of the brothers sleep in the hayloft of the barn. The boy then
leaves.
• The main significance of the arrival of the boy lies in what light he can shed on the figure
of Godot. By the way the tramps question the boy about Godot, we now realize that
Vladimir and Estragon know very little, if anything, about Godot.
• Apparently, Godot keeps sheep and goats and is good to the boy who tends the goats but
beats the brother who tends the sheep. The reasons for beating the brother are unknown.
If, therefore, Godot is equated with God, then Godot's behavior would suggest an Old
Testament God who accepts the offering of one brother (Abel) and rejects the offering of

211. the other brother (Cain). God's rejection of Cain's offering is difficult or impossible to
explain. Thus Godot's actions are as incomprehensible as some of the actions of the Old
Testament God.
Act I: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• After the boy leaves, Vladimir and Estragon are left alone. Night has fallen and the moon
has risen. The two tramps resolve to leave since there is "nothing to do here," but then,
hopefully, Vladimir reminds Estragon that the boy said "Godot was sure to come to-
morrow."
• Thus, they must wait — even though nothing is certain. Impulsively, they decide to leave
— but do not do so. The first act ends as it began. Estragon is still concerned about his
feet and his boots, which he is now carrying. Vladimir reminds Estragon that he can't go
barefoot because it's too cold, and Estragon compares his going barefoot with Christ's
going barefoot. Vladimir can't see the comparison; Christ went barefoot in
a warm climate. Yet Estragon is quick to point out that it was precisely because of that
warm climate that Christ was crucified quickly, whereas here and now, man, by
implication, must suffer for an extended time.
• The futility of their situation makes Estagon wish for some rope so that he can hang
himself. The thought of death reminds him of a time about fifty years, ago when he threw
himself in the Rhone River and was "fished out" by Vladimir. This allusion reminds us of
the Christian symbols of baptism, cleansing, and renewal. Yet the incident occurred fifty
years ago, so now it is "all dead and buried." In other words, there is no more hope of
baptism and renewal — instead, they must face the coldness and the darkness of the
world alone.
• The first act began with the line "Nothing to be done." Nothing has been done. Now
Vladimir and Estragon realize that "nothing is certain," and that "nothing is worth while
now." Consequently, they decide: "Let's go." But instead, according to the stage
directions, "They do not move." The act ends, therefore, with a contradiction between
their words and their actions. All they can do now is simply wait.
Act II: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• The second act begins almost exactly as the first act did — with one exception: there are
now four or five leaves on the once barren tree. As in Act I, Estragon is alone and
Vladimir enters, singing some repetitious doggerel about a dog which was beaten to death
because he stole a crust of bread. The repetition of the doggerel is typical of the repetition
of the entire drama, and the condition of the dog in the doggerel is similar to the
condition of the two tramps. Again, as in Act I, Vladimir wonders where Estragon spent
the night and discovers that Estragon has again been beaten. Thus, the dog in the
doggerel was beaten to death, and now we hear that Estragon is suffering from a beating.
Consequently, the second act begins on a note of death, but one that is doubly ominous.
• After a moment, the two tramps are reconciled and embrace each other, pretending that
all is right between them. However, Estragon immediately reminds Vladimir that he was
singing all the while that he (Estragon) was being beaten. Vladimir can only respond that
"one is not master of one's moods." Vladimir's remarks characterize the actions of the
first act — especially where it was evident that the two tramps were not in control of their
lives, that they were unable to determine what was going to happen to them.

212. • We now discover part of the reason for Vladimir's singing. He is happy because he slept
all night long. The urinary trouble that he had in the first act did not force him to get up
during the night and, therefore, he enjoyed a complete night's sleep. But then, if Vladimir
had been with Estragon, he would not have let the people beat Estragon. Vladimir
assumes a traditional philosophical position, a position that goes back to the writer of the
Book of Job in the Old Testament. If Estragon was beaten, it was because he was guilty
of doing something wrong and, had Vladimir been with Estragon, he would have stopped
him from doing whatever it was that caused Estragon to get a beating. This scene reminds
one of Franz Kafka's The Trial; there, the main character is punished for a crime and is
never able to discover what his crime was and feels increasingly more guilty by asking
what he is accused of.
• After the two convince each other that they are happy, they then settle down to wait for
Godot, and the basic refrain of the drama reemerges: the two tramps can do nothing but
wait. Suddenly, Vladimir is aware that "things have changed here since yesterday." The
change that Vladimir notices (and note that it is always Vladimir who is the most
perceptive of the two, even though in the final analysis he is also incapable of changing
their predicament) concerns the tree. Later, the change in the tree will be more fully
appreciated, but for now, Estragon is not convinced that it is the same tree; he does not
even remember if it is the same tree that they nearly hanged themselves from yesterday.
In addition, Estragon has almost forgotten the appearance of Pozzo and Lucky, except for
the bone he was given to gnaw on. Blankly, he asks, "all that was yesterday, you say?"
For Estragon, time has no real meaning; his only concern with time is that it is something
to be used up while waiting for Godot. He dismisses the discussion by pointing out that
the world about him is a "muckheap" from which he has never stirred.
• The world-as-a-muckheap is a central image in Beckett's work — for example,
in Endgame, one of the central images is garbage cans as symbols of the status of man,
who belongs on the refuse heap of the world. Estragon solidifies the image of the world-
as-a-muckheap by asking Vladimir to tell him about worms.
• In contrast to the landscape, or world which they now inhabit, Vladimir reminds Estragon
of a time once long ago when they lived in the Macon country and picked grapes for
someone whose name he can't remember. But it has been so long ago that Estragon can't
remember and can only assert that he "has puked [his] puke of a life away here . . . in the
Cackon country!" The oblique reference to another time and place where apparently
grapes (the biblical symbol of fertility) could be harvested contrasts with this barren
landscape where they now eat dried tubers of turnips and radishes. If Estragon and
Vladimir are representatives of mankind waiting for God to appear to them, then we
realize that possibly they are in this barren land because they represent man as fallen man
— man who has been cast out of the Garden of Eden, man who originally was picking the
grapes of God has now incurred the wrath of God, who refuses to appear to them
anymore.
• Vladimir and Estragon make a desperate attempt at conversation in order to make time
pass "so we won't think." Their efforts at conversation are strained and useless, and each
time after a few meaningless words, they obey the stage directions: Silence. This is
repeated ten times within the passing of a minute or so — that is, a few meaningless
phrases are uttered, followed by "silences." The two even contemplate trying to

213. contradict each other, but even that fails. The entire passage is characterized by a
brooding sense of helplessness and melancholy. The images are those of barren, sterile
lifelessness — the falling of leaves, ashes, dead voices, skeletons, corpses, and charnel-
houses, etc. All of these images are juxtaposed to the background idea of a once-fertile
life "in the Macon country" that can no longer be remembered and the idea that they are
constantly involved in the sterile, unprofitable endeavor of waiting for Godot. The entire
conversation is absolutely pointless, and yet Estragon responds, "Yes, but now we'll have
to find something else." The only effect, then, of their banter was to pass the time.
• With nothing else to do, the two tramps are momentarily diverted when Vladimir
discovers that the tree which was "all black and bare" yesterday evening is now "covered
with leaves." This leads to a discussion of whether or not the two tramps are in the same
place; after all, it would be impossible for a tree to sprout leaves overnight. Perhaps it has
been longer than just yesterday when they were here. Yet Vladimir points out Estragon's
wounded leg; that is proof that they were here yesterday.
• The confusion about time and place is typical of Beckett's dramas. How long the two
tramps have been in this particular place can never be determined. The fact that Estragon
has a wound proves nothing because man is eternally wounded in Beckett's dramas and,
furthermore, can show proof of his injuries. The leaves on the tree, which earlier was
black and bare, astonish Vladimir. It would indeed be a miracle if such an event could
occur in a single night, and this would open up all types of opportunities for miracles to
occur. But the discussion of a miracle is rejected by Estragon because the leaves have no
mystical appearance. They could be a manifestation of spring, or else this could be an
entirely different tree. Consequently, their conversation is inconclusive, and we never
know if this is the same tree in the same place or not. This confusion is characteristic of
Vladimir and Estragon's inability to cope with life.
• As Vladimir is trying to prove to Estragon that Pozzo and Lucky were here yesterday, he
makes Estragon pull up his trousers so that they can both see the wound which is
"beginning to fester." This scene is especially significant in the manner that it is staged
because the actions of the two tramps are those found in a burlesque comedy house, with
Vladimir holding up Estragon's leg while Estragon can hardly keep his balance, and
against this background of farcical comedy is the contrasting intellectual idea of the
metaphysical and spiritual wounds that man carries about with him.
• The wound on Estragon's leg, in turn, causes Vladimir to notice that Estragon does not
have his boots on. Coincidentally, there is a pair of boots lying on the ground, but
Estragon maintains that his boots were black and this pair is brown. Maybe someone
came and exchanged boots. Are they the same boots or someone else's boots?
• As with the tree, the confusion about the boots is a further indication of the inadequacy of
Estragon and Vladimir's logic and reasoning. They are unable to find anything which will
help "give us the impression that we exist." The boots were to be objective proof of their
particular existence on this particular bit of landscape at this particular time, but in an
absurdly tragic manner, they cannot even determine if the boots are the same boots that
existed yesterday. They are unable to find within themselves or outside themselves
anything which is helpful in establishing their existences. There is no hope within or
without. Therefore, even the attempt to arrive at a conclusion totally exhausts them, and
with the familiar refrain "we are waiting for Godot," they abandon the problem.

214. • But the boots are still there, and Vladimir convinces Estragon to try them on. Even
though they are too big, Estragon grudgingly admits that the boots do fit him. Then with
his new boots on, Estragon wishes that he could sleep. "He resumes his foetal posture"
and to the accompaniment of a lullaby sung by Vladimir, Estragon is soon asleep, only to
be awakened shortly by the recurrence of a nightmare. Frightened, Estragon wishes to
leave, but Vladimir reminds him that they can't leave because they are "waiting for
Godot."
• Estragon's assuming the fetal position suggests his complete resignation and despair, his
defeat in the face of such staggering, unsolvable metaphysical problems as the
significance of the tree and the mysterious boots. Obviously, too, this is a "return-to-the-
womb" situation wherein Estragon can escape from the responsibilities of life. His
security in the womb, however, does not last long because he is awakened by a nightmare
about falling. Whether it is a nightmare involving falling from the womb (man's most
traumatic physical experience) or failing from God's grace (man's most traumatic spiritual
experience), we are never sure.
• Suddenly, Estragon can bear no more. He is going and tells Vladimir that he will never
see him again. Vladimir doesn't pay attention, for he has found a hat, Lucky's hat; and so,
in the midst of all these ambiguous physical and philosophical considerations, we have
another burlesque interlude. In the tradition of the old burlesque theater, a tramp
(Vladimir) in an old bowler hat discovers another hat on the ground. There follows an
exchange-of-hats act between himself and his partner that could be found in many
burlesque acts. The hat is apparently the one that Lucky left the day before, during the
scene when he was silenced after his speech. The comic exchange begins when Vladimir
gives his own hat to Estragon and replaces it with Lucky's. Estragon then does the same,
offering his hat to Vladimir, who replaces it for Lucky's, and hands Lucky's hat to
Estragon, who replaces it for Vladimir's and so on until they tire of the interchange. And
then there is silence.
• Once more the two tramps must pass the time while waiting. They decide to play a game
of pretending to be Pozzo and Lucky, but this game lasts only a moment because they
think that they hear someone approaching. After a frantic search for some place to hide,
they decide that there is no one coming. Vladimir then tells Estragon: "You must have
had a vision," a phrase that is reminiscent of T. S. Eliot'sThe Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock, a long poem in which the main character, an ineffectual intellectual of the
twentieth century, cannot do anything, much less have the strength to have visions.
Furthermore, visions are associated with people entirely different from these two tramps.
To think that they could have a vision is absurd.
• One more game is attempted. Remembering Pozzo's calling Lucky ugly names and
recalling the anger and frustration of the master and his slave, they begin a game of
name-calling. It is Vladimir who suggests the idea of the game: "Let's abuse each other."
There follows in rapid succession a series of name-calling:
VLADIMIR: Moron!
ESTRAGON: Vermin!
VLADIMIR: Abortion!
ESTRAGON: Morpion!

215. VLADIMIR: Sewer-rat!
ESTRAGON: Curate!
VLADIMIR: Cretin!
• After this, they make up, and then they decide to exercise, mutually relieved by the
discovery that time flies when one "has fun!"
VLADIMIR: We could do our exercises.
ESTRAGON: Our movements.
VLADIMIR: Our elevations.
ESTRAGON: Our relaxations.
VLADIMIR: Our elongations.
[etc., etc.]
• The name-calling, the embracing, and the exercising are finally over; they have been no
more than futile attempts to pass the time while waiting for Godot, and Estragon is
reduced to flailing his fists and crying at the top of his voice, "God have pity on me! . . .
On me! On me! Pity! On me!"
Act II: Arrival of Pozzo and Lucky
• Suddenly and without warning, as in the first act, Pozzo and Lucky come back on stage.
Their arrival puts an end to Vladimir and Estragon's games. Things have changed
significantly for Pozzo and Lucky. The long rope which bound them together is now
much shorter, binding them closer together and suggesting that however much man might
consider himself to be different from others, ultimately he is drawn or bound closer and
closer. Furthermore, Pozzo and Lucky are physically changed: Pozzo is blind and Lucky
is dumb (i.e., mute). But the entire scene is played without the audience's knowing that
Lucky is now dumb. As they enter, staggering under their load, Lucky now carries
suitcases filled with sand (symbolically, perhaps, the sands of time). Lucky falls and
drags Pozzo down with him.
• With the arrival of Pozzo and Lucky, Vladimir and Estragon think that help
("reinforcements") have arrived from Godot. But they soon realize that it is just Pozzo
and Lucky. Estragon wants to leave then, but Vladimir must remind him once again that
they cannot go; they are "waiting for Godot." After some consideration, Vladimir decides
that they should help Pozzo and Lucky get up. But Estragon wants to consider an
alternative plan. After all, he was wounded by Lucky the day before. Vladimir reminds
him, however, that "it is not everyday that we are needed." This is one of the most
profound comments of the drama. Vladimir realizes that Pozzo's cries for help were
addressed to "all of mankind," and "at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is
us, whether we like it or not." This statement certainly clarifies the idea that Vladimir and
Estragon represent all mankind in its relationship to God (Godot). Realizing this,
Vladimir also realizes that man's fate is to be a part of "the foul brood to which a cruel
fate consigned us."
• Instead of Hamlet's "To be or not to be, that is the question," Vladimir asks, "What are
we doing here, that is the question." Again, his problem is more akin to the dilemma of T.

216. S. Eliot's Prufrock (who is also faced with an "overwhelming question": should he marry
or not?) than it is to the predicament of Shakespeare's Hamlet. Vladimir concludes: "We
[all mankind] are waiting for Godot to come." Hamlet's metaphysical question about
existence is reduced to a Prufrockian decision to do nothing but wait.
• At the end of Vladimir's speech, Pozzo's call for help loses importance as Vladimir once
again asserts his pride in the fact that they have at least kept their appointment to meet
Godot; not all people can make such a boast. Vladimir's confusing the metaphysical with
the practical anticipates the confused actions that are to immediately follow — that is,
Vladimir decides that they should help Pozzo and Lucky get up, and the result is that all
four of the men ultimately end up on the ground. Thus their cries for help fall on deaf
ears.
• The entire scene in which the two tramps try to help two equally distraught figures get up
returns the drama to the burlesque house. The scene is a parody of many similar types of
scenes found in burlesque theaters, thus emphasizing again the absurdity of man's
actions, or in the words of Estragon: "We are all born mad. Some remain so."
• Immediately after the above statement, Estragon leaves off with philosophy and becomes
very practical; he wants to know how much Pozzo is willing to pay to be extricated from
his position. Meanwhile, Vladimir is concerned with finding something to do to pass the
time: "We are bored to death"; he begins his efforts to help Pozzo, but, as noted above,
they all end up in a heap on the ground, and Pozzo, in fear, "extricates himself," then
crawls away. This incident also serves as a contrast to Pozzo's actions in the first act;
there, he was proud and disdainful and asserted himself with aloofness and superiority.
Now he has lost all his previous qualities and is simply a pathetic, blind figure crawling
about on the ground. Like Job or Sophocles' blind Oedipus, Pozzo seems to suggest that
no man's life can be secure since tomorrow might bring incalculable catastrophes.
Lying on the ground, Vladimir and Estragon try to call to Pozzo, who doesn't answer. Then
Estragon decides to call him by some other name:
ESTRAGON: . . . try [calling] him with other names . . . . It'd pass the time. And we'd be
bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
VLADIMIR: I tell you his name is Pozzo.
ESTRAGON: We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
POZZO: Help!
ESTRAGON: Got it in one!
VLADIMIR: I begin to weary of this motif.
ESTRAGON: Perhaps the other is called Cain. Cain! Cain!
POZZO: Help!
ESTRAGON: He's all humanity.
• Beckett's use of the names of Abel and Cain stresses the universality of the characters
since Pozzo answers to both names. According to some interpretations of the scriptures,
all of mankind carries with it both the mark of Cain and the mark of Abel; thus Pozzo can
answer to both names because "He's all humanity! "

217. • To pass the time, Estragon suggests that they stand up. They do. Then Estragon suggests
once again, "Let's go," only to be reminded once again that they must remain because
"we're waiting for Godot."
• Since there is nothing else to do, Vladimir and Estragon help Pozzo get up. It is then that
they discover that he is blind. In contrast to the Pozzo of the first act, we now see a
pathetic figure leaning on the two tramps for physical support and pleading for help
because he is blind. For Estragon, there is hope in Pozzo's blindness because the prophets
of old, such as the Greek Tiresias, were often blind but could "see into the future,"
exactly what Estragon hopes Pozzo can do. But there is no hope for Vladimir and
Estragon. Carrying through with the Greek imagery, Estragon tires of holding Pozzo,
especially since he can't prophesy for them. Pozzo wants to drop him since he and
Vladimir "are not caryatids" (caryatids were statues of Greek goddesses used to hold up
temples; why Estragon uses this word instead of "telamons," the male equivalent, is
confusing).
• Because of his blindness, Pozzo has also lost all contact with time. He even refuses to
answer questions about what happened yesterday: "The blind have no notion of time."
This confusion over time is symptomatic of his changed condition; just as lie has lost all
contact with life, so also has time lost all significance for him. When Vladimir hears that
Lucky is dumb, he inquires, "Since when?" The question incenses Pozzo and causes him
to violently reject Vladimir's concern with time: "Have you not done tormenting me with
your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you,
one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were
born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you?"
For Pozzo, one day at a time is enough for him to cope with. All he knows now and all
that he "sees" now is the misery of life. Life itself is only a brief moment — that flash of
light between the darkness of the womb and of the tomb. "They give birth astride of a
grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more." Thus the grave-digger is the
midwife of mankind. Ending on this note of utter despair, Pozzo arouses Lucky and they
struggle off to continue on their journey.
Act II: Departure of Pozzo and Lucky: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• While Vladimir and Pozzo have been talking, Estragon has been sleeping again in his
fetal position. Vladimir, feeling lonely, awakens him. Significantly, since Estragon was
sleeping in his fetal position, his dreams were happy ones; but even so, Vladimir refuses
to listen to them. Vladimir's final speech before the entrance of the Boy Messenger
suggests that he feels a deep estrangement from the universe. Something tells him that
there should be some reason for him to be here — at this place, at this time, with his
friend Estragon while waiting for Godot. Furthermore, he is aware of a misery, a
disquietness which he cannot understand. Life seems as though it is astride of a grave,"
and there is to be a "difficult birth," for the "grave-digger puts on the forceps." Vladimir
senses that life is filled with the cries of a suffering humanity, but he has used "a great
deadener" (boredom) as a barrier to these cries. Suddenly, in complete despair, he cries
out: "I can't go on." But the alternative to his despair is obviously death; therefore, he
immediately rejects his despair by asking, "What have I said?" There is left only man's
stubborn, useless clinging to a meaningless life.

218. Act II: Arrival of Boy Messenger
• Vladimir's depression is suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a boy. Since this boy
asserts that he was not here yesterday, he has to be a different one. However, the message
that he brings is identical to the one brought yesterday by a boy: Mr. Godot will not come
this evening but he will surely come tomorrow, without fail. Thus Vladimir finds that
there is absolutely nothing to do but wait for Godot. But in view of the message from the
boy of the preceding day, the assurance that Godot will come tomorrow is lacking in
conviction.
• Upon questioning the boy further, Vladimir discovers two things — that Mr. Godot "does
nothing" and that he has a white beard. Since God is sometimes viewed as a Supreme
Entity doing nothing and possessing a long white beard, then if Godot is God, there can
be little or no hope for God's intervention in the affairs of men. Instead, man must
continue to stumble through this muckheap, this ash can of a world. Vladimir tells the
boy to inform Mr. Godot that "you saw me." Vladimir is so insistent on the fact that the
boy has indeed seen him that he makes "a sudden spring forward." This frightens the boy,
and he quickly runs offstage.
Act II: Departure of Boy Messenger: Vladimir and Estragon Alone
• After the boy leaves, the sun sets and the moon rises, indicating that another day of
waiting for Godot has passed. Estragon awakens and wants to leave this desolate place,
but Vladimir reminds him that they have to wait for Godot. When Estragon suggests that
they "drop Godot" and leave, Vladimir reminds Estragon that if they did, Godot would
"punish us."
• As he did at the end of Act I, Estragon once again brings up the subject of their hanging
themselves. But Estragon forgot to bring the rope. They decide to hang themselves with
the cord that holds up Estragon's trousers, but when tested, the cord breaks. This
misadventure returns us to the world of the circus and the world of the burlesque house,
and this rare, decisive action to kill themselves is rendered ludicrous since in the process
of testing the cord, Estragon suffers the indignity of having his trousers fall down. Thus
we see again Beckett's notion of the incongruity between what man attempts (and longs
to be) and the absurdity of his position and his actions.
• Since they have to come back tomorrow to wait for Godot, Estragon once again proposes
that they bring "a good bit of rope" with them; Vladimir agrees:
VLADIMIR: We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause) Unless Godot comes.
ESTRAGON: And if he comes?
VLADIMIR: We'll be saved.
The question then is: if Godot doesn't come, will Vladimir and Estragon be damned?
After telling Estragon to put on his trousers, which are still around his ankles since
the cord that held up his trousers is now broken, Vladimir suggests that they leave:
VLADIMIR: Well? Shall we go?
ESTRAGON: Yes, let's go.

219. They do not move.
Curtain
• The ending of Act II is exactly the same as was the ending of Act I, and we have one
final example of the disparity between the characters' words and the characters' actions.
And since both acts are so identical and so circular, it should be obvious that tomorrow
will find the two tramps back at the same place waiting for Godot, who will not come but
who will send a boy messenger to tell them that Godot will surely come tomorrow and
they must come back to wait for Godot, etc., etc.
Character List
Vladimir (Didi) An old derelict dressed like a tramp; along with his companion of many years,
he comes to a bleak, desolate place to wait for Godot.
Estragon (Gogo)Vladimir's companion of many years who is overly concerned with his physical
needs, but is repeatedly told by Vladimir that, above all, they must wait for Godot.
Pozzo A traveling man dressed rather elaborately; he arrives driving another man (Lucky)
forward by means of a rope around the latter's neck.
Lucky The "slave" who obeys Pozzo absolutely.
Boy Messenger I and Boy Messenger II Each is a young boy who works for "Mr. Godot" and
brings Vladimir and Estragon news about "Mr. Godot"; apparently he takes messages back to
"Mr. Godot."
Godot He never appears in the drama, but he is an entity that Vladimir and Estragon are waiting
for.
Interpretations
• "Because the play is so stripped down, so elemental, it invites all kinds of social and
political and religious interpretation" wrote Normand Berlin in a tribute to the play in
Autumn 1999, "with Beckett himself placed in different schools of thought, different
movements and 'ism's. The attempts to pin him down have not been successful, but the
desire to do so is natural when we encounter a writer whose minimalist art reaches for
bedrock reality. 'Less' forces us to look for 'more,' and the need to talk about Godot and
about Beckett has resulted in a steady outpouring of books and articles.
• Throughout Waiting for Godot, the audience may encounter religious,
philosophical, classical, psychoanalytical and biographical – especially wartime –
references. There are ritualistic aspects and elements taken directly from vaudeville and
there is a danger in making more of these than what they are: that is, merely structural
conveniences, avatars into which the writer places his fictional characters.
• The play "exploits several archetypal forms and situations, all of which lend themselves
to both comedy and pathos." Beckett makes this point emphatically clear in the opening
notes to Film: "No truth value attaches to the above, regarded as of merely structural and
dramatic convenience."He made another important remark to Lawrence Harvey, saying
that his "work does not depend on experience – [it is] not a record of experience. Of
course you use it."

220. • Beckett tired quickly of "the endless misunderstanding". As far back as 1955, he
remarked, "Why people have to complicate a thing so simple I can't make out." He was
not forthcoming with anything more than cryptic clues, however: "Peter Woodthrope
[who played Estragon] remembered asking him one day in a taxi what the play was really
about: 'It's all symbiosis, Peter; it's symbiosis,' answered Beckett."
• Beckett directed the play for the Schiller-Theatre in 1975. Although he had overseen
many productions, this was the first time that he had taken complete control. Walter
Asmus was his conscientious young assistant director. The production was not
naturalistic. Beckett explained,
• “It is a game, everything is a game. When all four of them are lying on the ground,
that cannot be handled naturalistically. That has got to be done artificially,
balletically. Otherwise everything becomes an imitation, an imitation of reality [...].
It should become clear and transparent, not dry. It is a game in order to survive.”
Over the years, Beckett clearly realised that the greater part of Godot's success came down to the
fact that it was open to a variety of readings and that this was not necessarily a bad thing. Beckett
himself sanctioned "one of the most famous mixed-race productions of Godot, performed at
the Baxter Theatre in the University of Cape Town, directed byDonald Howarth, with [...] two
black actors, John Kani and Winston Ntshona, playing Didi and Gogo; Pozzo, dressed in
checked shirt and gumboots reminiscent of an Afrikanerlandlord, and Lucky ('a shanty
town piece of white trash'[59]) were played by two white actors, Bill Flynn and Peter Piccolo
[...]. The Baxter production has often been portrayed as if it were an explicitly political
production, when in fact it received very little emphasis. What such a reaction showed, however,
was that, although the play can in no way be taken as a political allegory, there are elements that
are relevant to any local situation in which one man is being exploited or oppressed by another."
Political
• "It was seen as an allegory of the Cold War"or of French Resistance to the Germans.
Graham Hassell writes, "[T]he intrusion of Pozzo and Lucky [...] seems like nothing
more than a metaphor for Ireland's view of mainland Britain, where society has ever been
blighted by a greedy ruling élite keeping the working classes passive and ignorant by
whatever means."
• Vladimir and Estragon are often played with Irish accents, as in the Beckett on
Film project. This, some feel, is an inevitable consequence of Beckett's rhythms and
phraseology, but it is not stipulated in the text. At any rate, they are not of English stock:
at one point early in the play, Estragon mocks the English pronunciation of "calm" and
has fun with "the story of the Englishman in the brothel".
Freudian
• "Bernard Dukore develops a triadic theory in Didi, Gogo and the absent Godot, based
on Sigmund Freud's trinitarian description of the psyche in The Ego and the Id (1923)
and the usage of onomastic techniques. Dukore defines the characters by what they lack:
the rational Go-go embodies the incomplete ego, the missing pleasure principle: (e)go-
(e)go. Di-di (id-id) – who is more instinctual and irrational – is seen as the backward id or
subversion of the rational principle. Godot fulfils the function of the superego or moral
standards. Pozzo and Lucky are just re-iterations of the main protagonists. Dukore finally

221. sees Beckett's play as a metaphor for the futility of man's existence when salvation is
expected from an external entity, and the self is denied introspection."
Jungian (Carl Jung, personality studies/behaviorist)
• "The four archetypal personalities or the four aspects of the soul are grouped in two pairs:
the ego and the shadow, the persona and the soul's image (animus or anima). The shadow
is the container of all our despised emotions repressed by the ego. Lucky, the shadow
serves as the polar opposite of the egocentric Pozzo, prototype of prosperous mediocrity,
who incessantly controls and persecutes his subordinate, thus symbolising the oppression
of the unconscious shadow by the despotic ego. Lucky's monologue in Act I appears as a
manifestation of a stream of repressed unconsciousness, as he is allowed to "think" for
his master. Estragon's name has another connotation, besides that of the aromatic
herb, tarragon: "estragon" is a cognate of oestrogen, the female hormone . This prompts
us to identify him with the anima, the feminine image of Vladimir's soul. It explains
Estragon's propensity for poetry, his sensitivity and dreams, his irrational moods.
Vladimir appears as the complementary masculine principle, or perhaps the rational
persona of the contemplative type."
Philosophical
Existential
• Broadly speaking, existentialists hold that there are certain fundamental questions that
every human being must come to terms with if they are to take their subjective existences
seriously and with intrinsic value. Questions such as death, the meaning of human
existence and the place of (or lack of) God in that existence are among them. By and
large, the theories of existentialism assert that conscious reality is very complex and
without an "objective" or universally known value: the individual must create value by
affirming it and living it, not by simply talking about it or philosophising it in the mind.
The play may be seen to touch on all of these issues.
• Much of Beckett's work – including Godot – is often considered by philosophical and
literary scholars to be part of the Theatre of the Absurd, a form of theatre which stemmed
from the Absurdist philosophy of Albert Camus. Absurdism itself is a branch of the
traditional assertions of existentialism, pioneered by Søren Kierkegaard, and posits that,
while inherent meaning might very well exist in the universe, human beings are incapable
of finding it due to some form of mental or philosophical limitation. Thus humanity is
doomed to be faced with the Absurd, or the absolute absurdity of existence in lack of
intrinsic purpose. While this interpretation initially stemmed from the work of Martin
Esslin in the 1960s, it has since been viewed by many scholars as narrow and limiting.
Ethical
• Just after Didi and Gogo have been particularly selfish and callous, the boy comes to say
that Godot is not coming. The boy (or pair of boys) may be seen to represent meekness
and hope before compassion is consciously excluded by an evolving personality and
character, and in which case may be the youthful Pozzo and Lucky. Thus Godot is
compassion and fails to arrive every day, as he says he will. No-one is concerned that a
boy is beaten. In this interpretation, there is the irony that only by changing their hearts to
be compassionate can the characters fixed to the tree move on and cease to have to wait
for Godot.

222. Christian
• Much of the play is steeped in scriptural allusion. The boy from Act One mentions that he
and his brother mind Godot's sheep and goats. Much can be read into Beckett's inclusion
of the story of the two thieves from Luke 23:39–43 and the ensuing discussion of
repentance. It is easy to see the solitary tree as representative of the Christian cross or
the tree of life. Some see God and Godot as one and the same. Vladimir's "Christ have
mercy upon us!" could be taken as evidence that that is at least what he believes.
• This reading is given further weight early in the first act when Estragon asks Vladimir
what it is that he has requested from Godot:
• VLADIMIR: Oh ... nothing very definite.
ESTRAGON: A kind of prayer.
VLADIMIR: Precisely.
ESTRAGON: A vague supplication.
VLADIMIR: Exactly.
• According to Anthony Cronin, "[Beckett] always possessed a Bible, at the end more than
one edition, and Bible concordances were always among the reference books on his
shelves." Beckett himself was quite open on the issue: "Christianity is a mythology with
which I am perfectly familiar so I naturally use it." As Cronin (one of his biographers)
points out, his biblical references "may be ironic or even sarcastic".
• "In answer to a defence counsel question in 1937 (during a libel action brought by his
uncle) as to whether he was a Christian, Jew or atheist, Beckett replied, 'None of the
three'". Looking at Beckett's entire œuvre, Mary Bryden observed that "the hypothesised
God who emerges from Beckett's texts is one who is both cursed for his perverse absence
and cursed for his surveillant presence. He is by turns dismissed, satirised, or ignored, but
he, and his tortured son, are never definitively discarded."

Autobiographical
• Waiting for Godot has been described as a "metaphor for the long walk into Roussillon,
when Beckett and Suzanne slept in haystacks [...] during the day and walked by night [...
or] of the relationship of Beckett to Joyce."
Homoerotic
• That the play calls on only male actors, with scarcely a reference to women, has caused
some to look upon Vladimir and Estragon's relationship as quasi-marital: "they bicker,
they embrace each other, they depend upon each other [...] They might be thought of as a
married couple." In Act One, Estragon speaks gently to his friend, approaching him
slowly and laying a hand on his shoulder. After asking for his hand in turn and telling
him not to be stubborn, he suddenly embraces him but backs off just as quickly,
complaining, "You stink of garlic!"
• When Estragon reminisces about his occasional glances at the Bible and remembers how
prettily coloured were the maps of the Dead Sea, he remarks, "That's where we'll go, I
used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be
happy."Furthermore, the temptation to achieve post-mortem erections arises in the

223. context of a world without females. Estragon in particular is "[h]ighly excited", in
contrast with Vladimir, who chooses this moment to talk about shrieking mandrakes. His
apparent indifference to his friend's arousal may be viewed as a sort of playful teasing.
• Another possible instance of homoeroticism has been discerned in the segment in which
Estragon "sucks the end of it [his carrot]",although Beckett describes this as a meditative
action.
Beckett's objection to female actors
• Beckett was not open to most interpretative approaches to his work. He famously
objected when, in the 1980s, several women's acting companies began to stage the play.
"Women don't have prostates," said Beckett, a reference to the fact that Vladimir
frequently has to leave the stage to urinate.
• In 1988, Beckett took a Dutch theatre company, De Haarlemse Toneelschuur to court
over this issue. "Beckett [...] lost his case. But the issue of gender seemed to him to be so
vital a distinction for a playwright to make that he reacted angrily, instituting a ban on all
productions of his plays in The Netherlands." This ban was short-lived, however: in 1991
(two years after Beckett's death), "Judge Huguette Le Foyer de Costil ruled that the
production would not cause excessive damage to Beckett's legacy", and the play was duly
performed by the all-female cast of the Brut de Beton Theater Company at the
prestigious Avignon Festival.


Related works
• Racine's Bérénice is a play "in which nothing happens for five acts." In the preface to this
play Racine writes: "All creativity consists in making something out of nothing." Beckett
was an avid scholar of the 17th century playwright and lectured on him during his time
at Trinity. "Essential to the static quality of a Racine play is the pairing of characters to
talk at length to each other."
• The title character of Balzac's 1851 play Mercadet is waiting for financial salvation from
his never-seen business partner, Godeau. Although Beckett was familiar with
Balzac'sprose, he insisted that he learned of the play after finishing Waiting for Godot.
Coincidentally, in 1949, Balzac's play was closely adapted to film as The Lovable
Cheat(starring Buster Keaton, whom Beckett greatly admired).
• Maurice Maeterlinck wrote The Blind in 1894 about a group of blind people who are
stranded in the woods on an island outing when their guide, a priest, dies suddenly. For a
while, no one knows that the priest has died or that his body is only several feet away
from them. They all sit and wait for his return. When his body is discovered, the people
become panicky and argumentative and fearful about how they will ever return to their
hospital. With the death of 'the father' the play can also be read as a fable of a society lost
without a God to guide them and care for them.
• The unity of place, the particular site on the edge of a marsh which the two tramps cannot
leave, recalls Sartre's striking use of the unity of place in his 1944 play, No Exit. There it
is hell in the appearance of a Second Empire living room that the three characters cannot

224. leave. The curtain line of each play underscores the unity of place, the setting of which is
prison. The Let's go! of Godot corresponds to the Well, well, let's get on with it....! of No
Exit. Sartre's hell is projected by use of some of the quid pro quos of a bedroom farce,
whereas the unnamed plateau – the platter Didi and Gogo are served up on in the French
version – evokes an empty vaudeville stage.
• Many critics regard the protagonists in Beckett's novel Mercier and Camier as prototypes
of Vladimir and Estragon. "If you want to find the origins of Godot," he told Colin
Duckworth once, "look at Murphy."Here we see the agonised protagonist yearning for
self-knowledge, or at least complete freedom of thought at any cost, and
thedichotomy and interaction of mind and body. It is also a book that dwells on mental
illness something that affects all the characters in Godot. In defence of the critics,
Mercier and Camier wander aimlessly about a boggy, rain-soaked island that, although
not explicitly named, is Beckett's native Ireland. They speak convoluted dialogues similar
to Vladimir and Estragon's, joke about the weather and chat in pubs, while the purpose of
their odyssey is never made clear. The waiting in Godot is the wandering of the novel.
"There are large chunks of dialogue which he later transferred directly into Godot."
• Waiting for Godot has been compared – thematically and stylistically – with Tom
Stoppard's 1966 play, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Parallels include two
central characters who – at times – appear to be aspects of a single character and whose
lives are dependent on outside forces over which they have little control. There are also
plot parallels, the act of waiting as a significant element of the play, during the waiting,
the characters pass time by playing Questions, impersonating other characters, at times
repeatedly interrupting each other while at other times remaining silent for long periods.
Harold Pinter (1930 –2008)
• A Nobel Prize-winning English playwright, screenwriter, director and actor.
• One of the most influential modern British dramatists, his writing career spanned more
than 50 years.
• His best-known plays include The Birthday Party (1957), The Homecoming (1964),
and Betrayal (1978), each of which he adapted for the screen.
• His screenplay adaptations of others' works include The Servant (1963), The Go-
Between (1971), The French Lieutenant's Woman (1981), The Trial (1993),
and Sleuth (2007).
• He also directed or acted in radio, stage, television, and film productions of his own and
others' works.
• Pinter was born and raised in Hackney, east London, and educated at Hackney Downs
School.
• In 1956 he married actress Vivien Merchant and had a son, Daniel born in 1958.
• He left Merchant in 1975 and married author Lady Antonia Fraser in 1980.
• Pinter's career as a playwright began with a production of The Room in 1957.
• His second play, The Birthday Party, closed after eight performances, but was
enthusiastically reviewed by critic Harold Hobson.

225. • His early works were described by critics as "comedy of menace".
• Later plays such as No Man's Land (1975) and Betrayal (1978) became known as
"memory plays".
• He appeared as an actor in productions of his own work on radio and film. He also
undertook a number of roles in works by other writers.
• He directed nearly 50 productions for stage, theatre and screen. Pinter received over 50
awards, prizes, and other honours, including the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2005 and
the French Légion d'honneur in 2007.
• Despite frail health after being diagnosed with oesophageal cancer in December 2001,
Pinter continued to act on stage and screen, last performing the title role of Samuel
Beckett's one-act monologue Krapp's Last Tape, for the 50th anniversary season of
the Royal Court Theatre, in October 2006.
• He died from liver cancer on 24 December 2008.
• At the age of 12, Pinter began writing poetry, and in spring 1947, his poetry was first
published in the Hackney Downs School Magazine.In 1950, his poetry was first
published outside of the school magazine in Poetry London, some of it under the
pseudonym "Harold Pinta".
• Pinter was the author of 29 plays and 15 dramatic sketches and the co-author of two
works for stage and radio.
• He was considered to have been one of the most influential modern British dramatists.
• His style has entered the English language as an adjective, "Pinteresque", although
Pinter himself disliked the term and found it meaningless.
"Comedies of menace" (1957–1968)
• Pinter's first play, The Room, written and first performed in 1957, was a student
production at the University of Bristol, directed by his good friend, actor Henry Woolf,
who also originated the role of Mr. Kidd (which he reprised in 2001 and 2007).
• After Pinter mentioned that he had an idea for a play, Woolf asked him to write it so that
he could direct it to fulfill a requirement for his postgraduate work. Pinter wrote it in
three days.
• The production was described by Billington as "a staggeringly confident debut which
attracted the attention of a young producer, Michael Codron, who decided to present
Pinter's next play, The Birthday Party, at the Lyric Hammersmith, in 1958."
• Written in 1957 and produced in 1958, Pinter's second play, The Birthday Party, one of
his best-known works, was initially both a commercial and critical disaster, despite an
enthusiastic review in The Sunday Times by its influential drama critic Harold Hobson,
which appeared only after the production had closed and could not be reprieved.
• Critical accounts often quote Hobson:
Pinter, on the evidence of his work, possesses the most original, disturbing and arresting
talent in theatrical London ... Mr Pinter and The Birthday Party, despite their experiences
last week, will be heard of again. Make a note of their names.

226. • Pinter himself and later critics generally credited Hobson as bolstering him and perhaps
even rescuing his career.
• In a review published in 1958, borrowing from the subtitle of The Lunatic View: A
Comedy of Menace, a play by David Campton, critic Irving Wardle called Pinter's early
plays "comedy of menace"—a label that people have applied repeatedly to his work.
• Such plays begin with an apparently innocent situation that becomes both threatening and
"absurd" as Pinter's characters behave in ways often perceived as inexplicable by his
audiences and one another. Pinter acknowledges the influence of Samuel Beckett,
particularly on his early work; they became friends, sending each other drafts of their
works in progress for comments.
• Pinter wrote The Hothouse in 1958, which he shelved for over 20 years (See "Overtly
political plays and sketches" below).
• Next he wrote The Dumb Waiter (1959), which premièred in Germany and was then
produced in a double bill with The Room at the Hampstead Theatre Club, in London, in
1960.
• By the time Peter Hall's London production of The Homecoming (1964)
reached Broadway in 1967, Pinter had become a celebrity playwright, and the play
garnered four Tony Awards, among other awards.
• Working as both a screenwriter and as a playwright, Pinter composed a script called The
Compartment (1966), for a trilogy of films to be contributed by Samuel Beckett, Eugène
Ionesco, and Pinter, of which only Beckett's film, titled Film, was actually produced.
• Then Pinter turned his unfilmed script into a television play, which was produced as The
Basement, both on BBC 2 and also on stage in 1968.

"Memory plays" (1968–1982)
• From the late 1960s through the early 1980s, Pinter wrote a series of plays and sketches
that explore complex ambiguities, elegiac mysteries, comic vagaries, and other
"quicksand-like" characteristics of memory and which critics sometimes classify as
Pinter's "memory plays".
• These include Landscape (1968), Silence (1969), Night (1969),Old Times (1971), No
Man's Land (1975), The Proust Screenplay (1977), Betrayal (1978), Family
Voices (1981), Victoria Station (1982), and A Kind of Alaska (1982).
• Some of Pinter's later plays, including Party Time (1991), Moonlight (1993), Ashes to
Ashes (1996), and Celebration (2000), draw upon some features of his
"memory" dramaturgy in their focus on the past in the present, but they have personal and
political resonances and other tonal differences from these earlier memory plays.
Overtly political plays and sketches (1980–2000)
• Following a three-year period of creative drought in the early 1980s after his marriage to
Antonia Fraser and the death of Vivien Merchant,Pinter's plays tended to become shorter
and more overtly political, serving as critiques of oppression, torture, and other abuses
of human rights.

227. • Pinter's brief dramatic sketch Precisely (1983) is a duologue between two bureaucrats
exploring the absurd power politics of mutual nuclear annihilation and deterrence. His
first overtly political one-act play is One for the Road (1984).
• Intertwining political and personal concerns, his next full-length plays, Moonlight (1993)
and Ashes to Ashes (1996) are set in domestic households and focus on dying and death.
• After experiencing the deaths of first his mother (1992) and then his father (1997), again
merging the personal and the political, Pinter wrote the poems "Death" (1997) and "The
Disappeared" (1998).
• Pinter's last stage play, Celebration (2000), is a social satire set in an opulent restaurant,
which lampoons The Ivy, a fashionable venue in London's West End theatre district, and
its patrons who "have just come from performances of either the ballet or the opera.
As screenwriter
• Pinter composed 27 screenplays and film scripts for cinema and television, many of
which were filmed, or adapted as stage plays.
• His fame as a screenwriter began with his three screenplays written for films directed
by Joseph Losey, leading to their close friendship:
• The Servant (1963), based on the novel by Robin Maugham; Accident (1967), adapted
from the novel by Nicholas Mosley; and The Go-Between (1971), based on the novel
by L. P. Hartley.
• Films based on Pinter's adaptations of his own stage plays are:The Caretaker (1963),
directed by Clive Donner; The Birthday Party (1968), directed by William Friedkin; The
Homecoming (1973), directed by Peter Hall; and Betrayal (1983), directed by David
Jones.
• Pinter also adapted other writers' novels to screenplays, including The Pumpkin
Eater (1964), based on the novel by Penelope Mortimer, directed by Jack Clayton; The
Quiller Memorandum (1966), from the 1965 spy novel The Berlin Memorandum,
by Elleston Trevor, directed by Michael Anderson; The Last Tycoon (1976), from the
unfinished novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald, directed by Elia Kazan; The French Lieutenant's
Woman (1981), from the novel by John Fowles, directed by Karel Reisz; Turtle
Diary (1985), based on the novel by Russell Hoban; The Heat of the Day (1988), a
television film, from the 1949 novel by Elizabeth Bowen; The Comfort of
Strangers (1990), from the novel by Ian McEwan, directed by Paul Schrader; and The
Trial (1993), from the novel by Franz Kafka, directed by David Jones.
• His screenplays The Proust Screenplay (1972),Victory (1982), and The Dreaming
Child (1997) and his unpublished screenplay The Tragedy of King Lear (2000) have not
been filmed.
• A section of Pinter's Proust Screenplay was, however, released as the 1984 film Swann in
Love (Un amour de Swann), directed by Volker Schlöndorff.
• Pinter's screenplays for The French Lieutenant's Woman and Betrayal were nominated
for Academy Awards in 1981 and 1983, respectively.

228. The Birthday Party (1957)
• The second full-length play by Harold Pinter and one of Pinter's best-known and most-
frequently performed plays.
• After its hostile London reception almost ended Pinter's playwriting career, it went on to
be considered "a classic".
• Harold Hobson's belated rave review, "The Screw Turns Again", appeared in The Sunday
Times, rescuing its critical reputation and enabling it to become one of the classics of the
modern stage.
• The Birthday Party is about Stanley Webber, an erstwhile piano player in his 30s, who
lives in a rundown boarding house, run by Meg and Petey Boles, in an English seaside
town, "probably on the south coast, not too far from London".
• Two sinister strangers, Goldberg and McCann, who arrive supposedly on his birthday and
who appear to have come looking for him, turn Stanley's apparently innocuous birthday
party organised by Meg into a nightmare
• The Birthday Party has been described (some say "pigeonholed") by Irving Wardle and
later critics as a "Comedy of menace" and by Martin Esslin as an example of theTheatre
of the Absurd.
• It includes such features as the fluidity and ambiguity of time, place, and identity and the
disintegration of language.
Interpretation
• Like many of Pinter's other plays, very little of the expository information in The Birthday
Party is verifiable; it is often contradicted by the characters and otherwise ambiguous, and,
therefore, one cannot take what they say at face value. For example, in Act One, Stanley
describes his career, saying "I've played the piano all over the world," reduces that
immediately to "All over the country," and then, after a "pause", undercuts both hyperbolic
self-representations in stating "I once gave a concert."
• While the title and the dialogue refer to Meg's planning a party to celebrate Stanley's
birthday: "It's your birthday, Stan. I was going to keep it a secret until tonight," even that
"fact" is dubious, as Stanley denies that it is his birthday: "This isn't my birthday, Meg" ,
telling Goldberg and McCann: "Anyway, this isn't my birthday. [...] No, it's not until next
month," adding, in response to McCann's saying "Not according to the lady [Meg]," "Her?
She's crazy. Round the bend"
• Although Meg claims that her house is a "boarding house," her husband, Petey, who was
confronted by "two men" who "wanted to know if we could put them up for a couple of
nights" is surprised that Meg already has "got a room ready", and, Stanley (being the only
supposed boarder), also responds to what appears to him to be the sudden appearance of
Goldberg and McCann as prospective guests on a supposed "short holiday," flat out denies
that it is a boarding house: "This is a ridiculous house to pick on. [...] Because it's not a
boarding house. It never was".
• McCann claims to have no knowledge of Stanley or Maidenhead when Stanley asks him
"Ever been anywhere near Maidenhead? [...] There's a Fuller's teashop. I used to have my tea
there. [...] and a Boots Library. I seem to connect you with the High Street. [...] A charming

229. town, don't you think? [...] A quiet, thriving community. I was born and brought up there. I
lived well away from the main road" yet Goldberg later names both businesses that Stanley
used to frequent connecting Goldberg and possibly also McCann to Maidenhead:
• "A little Austin, tea in Fuller's a library book from Boots, and I'm satisfied" . Of course, both
Stanley and Goldberg could just be inventing these apparent "reminiscences" as they both
appear to have invented other details about their lives earlier, and here Goldberg could
conveniently be lifting details from Stanley's earlier own mention of them, which he has
heard; as Merritt observes, the factual basis for such apparent correspondences in the
dialogue uttered by Pinter's characters remains ambiguous and subject to multiple
interpretations.
Shifting identities (cf. "the theme of identity") makes the past ambiguous: Goldberg is called
"Nat," but in his stories of the past he says that he was called "Simey" and also "Benny", and he
refers to McCann as both "Dermot" (in talking to Petey) and "Seamus" (in talking to McCann ).
Given such contradictions, these characters' actual names and thus identities remain unclear.
According to John Russell Brown , "Falsehoods are important for Pinter's dialogue, not least
when they can be detected only by careful reference from one scene to another.... Some of the
more blatant lies are so casually delivered that the audience is encouraged to look for more than
is going to be disclosed. This is a part of Pinter's two-pronged tactic of awakening the audience's
desire for verification and repeatedly disappointing this desire”.
• Although Stanley, just before the lights go out during the birthday party, "begins to strangle
Meg , she has no memory of that the next morning, quite possibly because she had drunk too
much and gotten tipsy ; oblivious to the fact that Goldberg and McCann have removed
Stanley from the house – Petey keeps that information from her when she inquires, "Is he still
in bed?" by answering "Yes, he's ... still asleep"––she ends the play focusing on herself and
romanticising her role in the party, "I was the belle of the ball. [...] I know I was"
Characters
• Petey, a man in his sixties
• Meg, a woman in her sixties
• Stanley, a man in his late thirties
• Lulu, a girl in her twenties
• Goldberg, a man in his fifties
• McCann, a man of thirty
Meg and Petey Boles
While on tour with L. du Garde's A Horse! A Horse!, Pinter found himself in Eastbourne without
a place to stay. He met a stranger in a pub who said "I can take you to some digs but I wouldn't
recommend them exactly," and then led Pinter to the house where he stayed. Pinter told his
official biographer, Michael Billington,
I went to these digs and found, in short, a very big woman who was the landlady and a little man,
the landlord. There was no one else there, apart from a solitary lodger, and the digs were really
quite filthy ... I slept in the attic with this man I'd met in the pub ... we shared the attic and there
was a sofa over my bed ... propped up so I was looking at this sofa from which hairs and dust fell
continuously. And I said to the man, "What are you doing here?" And he said, "Oh well I used to

230. be...I'm a pianist. I used to play in the concert-party here and I gave that up." ... The woman was
really quite a voracious character, always tousled his head and tickled him and goosed him and
wouldn't leave him alone at all. And when I asked him why he stayed, he said, "There's nowhere
else to go."
According to Billington, "The lonely lodger, the ravenous landlady, the quiescent husband: these
figures, eventually to become Stanley, Meg, and Petey, sound like figures in a Donald
McGill seaside postcard".
Petey Boles is the owner of the rundown boarding house in which the play takes place. He is 60
years old and married to Meg. Petey works a deckchair attendant at an unspecified seaside resort
near his home on the shores of England.
As the play continues, Petey’s character is revealed to be more astute. He realizes that Goldberg
and McCann are more insidious than they seem, and probably knows of his wife and Stanley's
strange relationship. While Petey seems to know quite a lot more than he lets on, he ultimately
reveals that he will do little to compromise the comfortable, delusional existence he shares with
Meg.
Meg Boles is a kind woman who helps run the boardinghouse. She is sixty years old and married
to Petey in a seemingly childless marriage. Absentminded and simplistic, Meg often asks
repetitive questions and constantly requires attention. While she does carry on a sexually-tinged
relationship with Stanley, Meg lives a rather humdrum life that allows her to maintain certain
delusions about her attractiveness and popularity, delusions which she works hard to protect even
as the play goes to darker places.
Goldberg and McCann
Goldberg and McCann "represent not only the West's most autocratic religions, but its two most
persecuted races". Goldberg goes by many names sometimes Nat but when talking about his past
he mentions that he was called by the names "Simey" and also "Benny". He seems to idolise his
Uncle Barney as he mentions him many times during the play. Goldberg is portrayed as a Jewish
man which is reinforced by his typically Jewish name and his appropriate use of Yiddish words.
McCann is an unfrocked priest and has two names. Petey refers to him as Dermot but Goldberg
calls him Seamus. The sarcasm in the following exchange evokes some distance in their
relationship:
McCANN: You've always been a true Christian
GOLDBERG: In a way.
Nat Goldberg, also called “Simey” and “Benny,” is a Jewish gentleman who works for an
unnamed "organization" that has employed him to take Stanley away from the boardinghouse.
He is defined by his outwardly polite and suave demeanor, which stands in stark contrast to that
of his associate McCann. However, he ultimately reveals an angry, violent streak beneath this
suave demeanor.
Goldberg's problems seem to be connected to his past - he is nostalgic about family, and waxes
poetic about the old days. To what extent these delusions explain and/or feed his anger and
violence are left to the reader's imagination.

231. Dermot McCann is an Irish member of an unnamed "organization" that has hired him to take
Stanley away from the boardinghouse. Unlike Goldberg, who uses words and charm to his
advantage, McCann is a paragon of bodily aggression. He lacks much social skill, and is
something of a simpleton.
Stanley Webber
Stanley Webber is "a palpably Jewish name, incidentally—is a man who shores up his precarious
sense of self through fantasy, bluff, violence and his own manipulative form of power-play. His
treatment of Meg initially is rough, playful, teasing, ... but once she makes the fateful, mood-
changing revelation —'I've got to get things ready for the two gentlemen'—he's as dangerous as a
cornered animal".
Stanley Webber is ostensibly the protagonist of the play. He is the only boarder at the Boles's
boardinghouse, and is initially defined by laziness, unkemptness, and smug cruelty towards Meg.
The many details of his past are never confirmed - he might be a musician, might have been
famous, etc. - although there is a sense that he has sins unatoned for. His aggressive depression
transitions into a nervous breakdown when Goldberg and McCann arrive, until he is nothing but
a bumbling idiot in Act III.
Lulu
Lulu is a woman in her twenties "whom Stanley tries vainly to rape"during the birthday party in
Act II.Lulu is an acquaintance of Meg’s and a visitor to the boardinghouse. She is childish and
flirtatious, and though she seems initially interested in Stanley, she is easily attracted to
Goldberg's charms. Her girlish qualities become ironically unsettling after she is sexually
assaulted.
Themes
• According to Pinter's official biographer, Michael Billington, in Harold Pinter, echoing
Pinter's own retrospective view of it, The Birthday Party is "a deeply political play about
the individual's imperative need for resistance," yet, according to Billington, though he
"doubts whether this was conscious on Pinter's part," it is also "a private, obsessive work
about time past; about some vanished world, either real or idealised, into which all but
one of the characters readily escapes. ... From the very outset, the defining quality of a
Pinter play is not so much fear and menace –– though they are undoubtedly present –– as
a yearning for some lost Eden as a refuge from the uncertain, miasmic present"
• As quoted by Arnold P. Hinchliffe, Polish critic Grzegorz Sinko points out that in The
Birthday Party "we see the destruction of the victim from the victim's own point of view:
• "One feels like saying that the two executioners, Goldberg and McCann, stand for all the
principles of the state and social conformism. Goldberg refers to his 'job' in a
typically Kafka-esque official language which deprives the crimes of all sense and
reality." ... [Of Stanley's removal, Sinko adds:] "Maybe Stanley will meet his death there
or maybe he will only receive a conformist brainwashing after which he is promised ...
many other gifts of civilization...."
In an interview with Mel Gussow, which is about the 1988 Classic Stage Company production
of The Birthday Party, later paired with Mountain Language in a 1989 CSC production, in both
of which David Strathairn played Stanley, Gussow asked Pinter: "The Birthday Party has the
same story as One for the Road?"

232. In the original interview first published in The New York Times, on 30 December 1988, Gussow
quotes Pinter as stating: "The character of the old man, Petey, says one of the most important
lines I've ever written. As Stanley is taken away, Petey says, 'Stan, don't let them tell you what to
do.' I've lived that line all my damn life. Never more than now."
In responding to Gussow's question, Pinter refers to all three plays when he replies: "It's the
destruction of an individual, the independent voice of an individual. I believe that is precisely
what the United States is doing to Nicaragua. It's a horrifying act. If you see child abuse, you
recognize it and you're horrified. If you do it yourself, you apparently don't know what you're
doing."


Edward Bond (1934—present)
• An English playwright, theatre director, poet, theorist and screenwriter.
• He is the author of some fifty plays, among them Saved (1965), the production of which
was instrumental in the abolition of theatre censorship in the UK.
• Bond is broadly considered one among the major living dramatists but he has always
been and remains highly controversial because of the violence shown in his plays, the
radicalism of his statements about modern theatre and society, and his theories on drama.
• His first contact with theatre was music-hall, where his sister used to be sawn in two in a
conjuror's sideshow.
• At fourteen, with his class he saw a performance of Shakespeare's Macbeth by Donald
Wolfit which was revelatory.
• He later explained that this performance was the first time he had been presented with
traumatic experiences comparable to his own in a way he could apprehend and give
meaning to.
• Bond had his real first play, The Pope's Wedding, staged as a Sunday night
"performance without décor" at the Royal Court Theatre in 1962.
• This is a falsely naturalistic drama (the title refers to "an impossible ceremony") set in
contemporary Essex which shows, through a set of tragic circumstances, the death of
rural society brought about by modern post-war urban living standards.
• Bond's next play, Saved (1965) became one of the best known cause célèbres in 20th
century British theatre history.
• Saved delves into the lives of a selection of South London working class youths
suppressed – as Bond would see it – by a brutal economic system and unable to give their
lives meaning, who drift eventually into barbarous mutual violence.
• Among them, one character, Len, persistently (and successfully) tries to maintain links
between people violently tearing each other to pieces.The play shows the social causes of
violence and opposes them with individual freedom. This would remain the major theme
throughout Bond's work.

233. • Saved included a scene featuring the stoning to death of a baby in its pram. The Lord
Chamberlain sought to censor it, but Bond refused to alter a word, claiming that
removing this pivotal scene would alter the meaning of the play.
• In 1967 produced a new play, the surreal Early Morning. This portrays
a lesbian relationship between Queen Victoria and Florence Nightingale, the royal
Princes as Siamese twins, Disraeli and Prince Albert plotting a coup and the whole
dramatis personae damned to a cannibalistic Heaven after falling off Beachy Head.
• While Bond's work remained banned for performance in Britain, Saved became the
greatest international success of its time with more than thirty different productions
around the world between 1966 and 1969, often by notorious directors such as Peter
Stein in Germany or Claude Régy in France. At that time, the play was controversial
everywhere but is now considered as a 20th-century classic.
• Bond composed his new major work, Lear, based on Shakespeare's King Lear. The play
follows the decay of an aging tyrannical king. Betrayed by his two cynical daughters;
hounded as a political risk following military defeat; pursued by the ghost of a man
whose life he has destroyed and whose death he has caused; imprisoned and tortured until
enucleated; after a life of violence he finally finds wisdom and peace in a radical
opposition to power. The end of the play shows him as a forced labourer in a camp
setting an example for future rebellion by sabotaging the wall he once built, which
subsequent regimes keep perpetuating.
• In 1974 Bond translated Spring Awakening (1891) by the German playwright Frank
Wedekind, about the suppression of adolescent sexuality.
• The subdued Edwardian-set comedy The Sea (1973) shows a seaside community on
England's East Coast a few years before World War I, dominated by a dictatorial lady
and overwhelmed by the drowning of one of its young citizens.
• Bond then produced two pieces exploring the place of the artist in society.
• Bingo (1974) portrayed the retired Shakespeare as an exploitative landlord, an impotent
yet compassionate witness of social violence, who eventually commits suicide, repeatedly
asking himself "Was anything done?".
• The Fool (1975) reinterprets the life of the rural 19th century poet John Clare.
• Bond remained a successful playwright in England all through the 1970s, expanding his
range of writing and his collaborations.
• In 1976 he wrote an adaptation of Webster's The White Devil.
• The Bundle. Set in an imaginary medieval Japan and based on an anecdote from the
classical Japanese poet Bash HYPERLINK
"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bash%C5%8D"ō, the play shows an eventually successful
revolution whose leader nevertheless constantly faces the human cost of political change
and experiences as futile an ideology of compassion, being (in Bond's view) politically
counterproductive and supportive of reactionary violence.
• Bond assigned the same political concern to his next play, The Woman, set in a
fantasy Trojan War and based on Euripides' Trojan Women. Comparable to Lear, it
shows the fight of the decayed Trojan queen, Hecuba, against the Athenian empire,

234. succeeding only when she abandons the aristocracy and the interests of the state to
physically meet the proletariat and join the people's cause.
• The Worlds, written for theNewcastle University Theatre Society, based on the recent
events in the UK, both the Northern Ireland conflict and the social crisis of the winter of
Discontent.
• Summer deals with the moral ambiguities of capitalism through the conflict of two
women in socialist Yugoslavia.
Plays
dates of writing, followed by director, place and date of world première
• The Pope's Wedding (1961–62) Keith Johnstone, Royal Court Theatre, London, 9
December 1962
• Saved (1964) William Gaskill, English Stage Society, Royal Court Theatre, London, 3
November 1965
• Early Morning (1965–67) William Gaskill, English Stage Society, Royal Court Theatre
London, 31 March 1968
• Narrow Road to the Deep North (1968) Jane Howell, Belgrade Theatre, Coventry, 24
June 1968
• Black Mass (1970) David Jones, Lyceum Theatre, London, 22 March 1970
• Passion "a Play for CND" (1971) Bill Bryden, au CND Festival of Life on
Easter, Alexandra Park Racecourse, 11 April 1971
• Lear (1969–71) William Gaskill, Royal Court Theatre London, 29 September 1971
• The Sea "a comedy" (1971–72) William Gaskill, Royal Court Theatre London, 22 May
1973
• Bingo "scenes of money and death" (1973) Jane Howell & John Dove, Northcott
Theatre, November Exeter, 14 1973
• The Fool "scenes of bread and love" (1974) Peter Gill, Royal Court Theatre London,
18 November 1975
• A-A-America !: Grandma Faust "a burlesque" and The Swing "a documentary"
(1976)Jack Emery, Inter-Action's Ambiance Lunch-Hour Theatre Club, Almost Free
Theatre, London. Grandma Faust: 25 October; The Swing: 22 November 1976
• Stone "a short Play" (1976) Gerald Chapman, Gay Sweatshop, Institute of Contemporary
Arts, London, 8 June 1976
• The Woman "scenes of war and freedom" (1974–77) Edward Bond, National Theatre
(Olivier Stage), London, 10 August 1978
• The Bundle or New Narrow Road To The Deep North (1977) Howard Davies, Royal
Shakespeare Company, The Warehouse Theatre, London, 13 January 1978
• The Worlds (1979) Edward Bond, Newcastle University Theatre Society, Newcastle
Playhouse, 8 March 1979

235. • Restoration "a pastorale" (1979–1980) Edward Bond, Royal Court Theatre, London, 22
July 1981
• Summer "a European play" (1980–81) Edward Bond, National Theatre (Cottlesloe
Stage), London, 27 January 1982
• Derek (1982) Nick Hamm, Royal Shakespeare Company, The Other Place, Stratford On
Avon, 18 October 1982
• Human Cannon (1979–1983) Dan Baron Cohen, Quantum Theatre, Manchester, 2
February 1986
• The War Plays:Red Black and Ignorant (1983–84) Nick Hamm (as The Unknown
Citizen), Royal Shakespeare Company, pour le festival "Thoughtcrimes", Barbican Pit,
London, 19 January 1984; The Tin Can People (1984) Nick Philippou, Bread and Circus
Theatre, Midlands Art Centre, Birmingham, 4 May 1984; Great Peace (1984–85) Nick
Hamm, Royal Shakespeare Company, Barbican Pit, London, 17 July 1985; premiered as
a trilogy: Nick Hamm, Royal Shakespeare Company, Barbican Pit, London, 25 July 1985
• Jackets or The Secret Hand (1986) Keith Sturgess, Department of Theatre Studies,
University of Lancaster, Nuffield studio, Lancaster, 24 January 1989
• In the Company of Men (1987–88) Alain Françon (as La Compagnie des
hommes), Théâtre de la Ville, Paris, 29 September 1992
• September (1989) Greg Doran, Canterbury Cathedral, Canterbury, 16 September 1989
• Olly's prison (1990) (stage version) Jorge Lavelli (as Maison d'arrêt), Festival
d'Avignon, 15 July 1993
• Tuesday (stage version) Claudia Stavisky (as Mardi), Théâtre de la Colline, Paris, 23
November 1995
• Coffee "a tragedy" (1993–94) Dan Baron Cohen, The Rational Theatre Company,
Chapter Art Centre, Cardiff, 27 November 1996
• At the Inland Sea (1995) Geoff Gillham, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company,
Broadway School, Aston, Birmingham, 16 October 1995
• Eleven Vests (1995–97) Geoff Gillham, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company,
Birmingham, 7 October 1997
• The Crime of the twenty-first Century (1996–98) Leander Haussman (as Das Verbrechen
des 21. Jahrhunderts), Schauspielhaus, Bochum, 28 May 1999
• The Children (1999) Claudette Bryanston, Classwork Theatre, Manor Community
College, Cambridge, 11 February 2000
• Have I None (2000) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre-in-Education Company,
Birmingham, 2 November 2000
• Existence (2002) (stage version) Christian Benedetti, Studio Théâtre, Alfortville, 28
October 2002
• Born (2002–03) Alain Françon (as Naître), Festival d'Avignon, 10 July 2006
• The Balancing Act (2003) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company,
Birmingham, October 2003

236. • The Short Electra (2003–4) John Doona, Young People Drama Festival, 13 March 2004
• People (2005), Alain Françon (as "Les Gens") Théâtre Gérard Philipe, Paris, 13 January
2014
• The Under Room (2005) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 9
October 2005
• Chair, stage version ( 2005) Alain Françon (as Chaise) Festival d'Avignon, 18 July 2006
• Arcade (2006) John Doona, Chester, 21 September 2006
• Tune (2006) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 2007
• Innocence (2008), unperformed
• A Window (2009) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 12 October
2009
• There Will Be More (2010) Adam Spreadbury-Maher, Good Night Out Presents, The
Cock Tavern Theatre, 26 October 2010
• The Edge (2011) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 15 October
2012
• The Broken Bowl (2012) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 24
April 2012
• The Angry Roads (2014) Chris Cooper, Big Brum Theatre in Education Company, 6
October 2014
• The Price of One (2016) Chris Cooper, Unifaun Theatre Productions & Teatru Manoel, 8
April 2016
LEAR
• Lear is a 1971 three-act play by the British dramatist Edward Bond. It is an epic rewrite
of William Shakespeare's King Lear.
• The play was first produced at the Royal Court Theatre in 1971, featuring Harry
Andrews in the title role.
• It was revived by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1982 with Bob Peck, and revived
again at the Crucible Theatre,Sheffield, in 2005 with Ian McDiarmid.
• Bond, a socialist, was attempting to correct modern trends which focused on the
Shakespeare play as an artistic experience, at the expense of more practical elements of
social critique.
• By creating a politically effective piece from a similar story, he was more likely to cause
people to question their society and themselves, rather than simply to have an uplifting
aesthetic experience. According to one critic, his plays "are not meant merely to entertain
but to help to bring about change in society."
• In Bond's play, Lear is a paranoid autocrat, building a wall to keep out imagined
"enemies". His daughters Bodice and Fontanelle rebel against him, causing a bloody war.
• Lear becomes their prisoner and goes on a journey of self-revelation. He is blinded and
haunted by the ghost of a Gravedigger's Boy, whose kindness towards the old King led to

237. his murder. Eventually Lear, after becoming a prophet reminiscent of Leo Tolstoy, makes
a gesture toward dismantling the wall he began. This gesture leads to his death, which
offers hope as an example of practical activism.
• The play also features a character called Cordelia, wife of the murdered Gravedigger's
Boy who becomes a Stalinist-type dictator herself.
• Lear features some punishing scenes of violence, including knitting needles being
plunged into a character's eardrum, a bloody on-stage autopsy and a machine which sucks
out Lear's eyeballs. However, it is often lyrical and features some densely packed
metaphoric language.
• The play's emphasis on violence and brutality led to mixed reviews among top critics.
Although some critics praised its message against violence (and its cast), others
questioned whether the play was convincing enough to garner the reaction it sought from
the audience.
Critical Essay

The moral development of Lear in Bond's play.

In his play Lear, Edward Bond focuses on the moral development of the title character, a king in
ancient Britain. Although Lear begins the playas an old man, his behavior is that of a child; he is
totally absorbed in himself and his own security and needs. He is literally building a wall to keep
others out. As the play progresses, however, Lear loses his position of power and is forced to
move outside of his self-absorbed sphere and into the society he helped to create. As he suffers
along with his former subjects, Lear begins to mature, realizing that others are human beings
with needs and desires of their own. For the first time, Lear truly sees other people, and this leads
him to recognize the consequences of his own actions and to take responsibility for what he has
done. His moral growth, however, is only complete when he turns his understanding into action.
It is only then that he becomes a morally mature human being.

When the audience first meets Lear, he is morally a child, seeing nothing beyond his own needs
and desires. He is obsessed with the building of his wall, which he claims will benefit his people.
It is clear from the beginning, however, that Lear has a callous disregard for others He complains
about the workers leaving wood in the mud to rot, then almost immediately turns to complaints
about the living conditions of the men. Bond makes it clear, however, that Lear's complaints do
not arise from true concern for his workers. His dissatisfaction about their living conditions is, in
fact, parallel to his complaint about the wood. "You must deal with this fever, " he tells the
Foreman. "When [the men] finish work they must be kept in dry huts. All these huts are wet."
Like the wood, the men are being left to rot. Lear goes on to tell the Foreman, "You waste men,"
a statement that shows that to Lear, the workers are simply more materials to be used in building
the wall.

Bond makes Lear's attitude even more clear when Lear's primary concern with the accidental
death of a worker is that it will cause delay in building the wall. Lear insists, over the protests of
his two daughters, Bodice and Fontanelle, that the worker who inadvertently caused the death be
executed. Here Bond contrasts Lear's spoken concern for his people with his actions. When his
daughters say they will tear down the wall, Lear says, "I loved and cared for all my children, and

238. now you've sold them to their enemies!" Immediately after this statement, Lear shoots the worker
who caused the death; it is Lear who is the true enemy of his people
What Lear's wall actually protects is not so much his subjects but his position as their king.
When his daughters reveal their plans to take over the kingdom, Lear turns on them as well,
saying, "I built my wall against you as well as my other enemies." In his book The Art and
Politics of Edward Bond, Lou Lappin pointed out that Lear's wall also functions as a
glorification of himself. Lear says, "When I'm dead my people will live in freedom and peace
and remember my name, no -- venerate it." Lappin called the building of Lear's wall "a self-
absorbed gesture, an act of solipsism that seeks to ennoble itself in a cult of personality. " Like a
child, Lear thinks only of himself.

In his book The Plays of Edward Bond, Richard Scharine wrote, "When Lear is overthrown, he is
propelled into the society he created like a baby being born." Scharine went on to say, however,
that "the mere fact of his being overthrown does not teach Lear moral maturity." At the
Gravedigger's Boy's house, Lear is still very much a child. Physically, he depends on the
Gravedigger's Boy and his wife to feed and shelter him. "You've looked after me well," says
Lear. "I slept like a child in the silence all day." Like a child, Lear retains his self-absorption.
When he glimpses the tortured Warrington, Lear's emphasis is not on Warrington's pain, but on
the effect of that sight on himself: "I've seen a ghost. I'm going to die. That's why he came back.
I'll die." When Cordelia, the Gravedigger's Boy's Wife, tells Lear he must go, his response
resembles a child's tantrum: "No, I won't go. He said l could stay. He won't break his word... .No,
I won't be at everyone's call. My daughters sent you! You go! It's you who destroy this place! We
must get rid of you!" It is only when the soldiers arrive, killing the Gravedigger's Boy and raping
Cordelia, that Lear shows some recognition of the pain of others when he says to the soldiers: "O
burn the house! You've murdered the husband, slaughtered the cattle, poisoned the well, raped
the mother, killed the child -- you must burn the house!" Yet as Jenny S. Spencer pointed out in
her book Dramatic Strategies in the Plays of Edward Bond, Lear's cry of horror is "ironically
underscored" by Lear's "unrecognized responsibility for the soldier's brutality." Lear has begun
to see outside of himself, but he still does not recognize that the pain he sees is the consequence
of his own actions.

Lear's lack of insight continues in the courtroom scene. As Scharine noted, Lear "still does not
understand that he himself is the architect of his prison." Not only does he not realize his
responsibility for his daughters' actions, but he denies that he has daughters at all. In his
madness, he sees himself in the mirror as an animal in a cage, but in viewing himself as an
animal, he also sees himself primarily as the victim of others and an object of pity. "Who shut
that animal in that cage?" he asks. "Let it out. " Yet at the same time, Lear's view of himself as
an animal implies a greater connection with those around him. "No, that's not the king," he says.
He is not above the others. In fact, Lear shows the mirror around to those in the courtroom,
letting them see the animal, an act that equates the others with himself. In a sense, all are victims.
Lear can now see pain outside of himself. However, his moral growth is still incomplete. He still
does not take responsibility for his actions, still does not see his own guilt.

It is in his prison cell, after the Gravedigger's Boy's Ghost appears to him and brings him his
daughters as young children, that Lear begins to see a connection between his daughters and
himself. In the courtroom he says, "My daughters have been murdered and these monsters have

239. taken their place."

Yet when Bodice and Fontanelle appear as young girls, Lear shows that they are, in fact, his
daughters. The apparitions sit next to Lear with their heads on his knees, and he strokes their
hair. When they finally leave, he asks them not to go. At this point, Lear begins to see what he
has done, saying, "I killed so many people and never looked at one of their faces." When the
Ghost, already deteriorating, asks to stay with Lear, Lear responds for the first time with real
compassion: "Yes, yes, Poor boy. . . . I'll hold you. We'll help each other. Cry while I sleep, and
I'll cry and watch while you sleep.. . The sound of the human voice will comfort us." Lear
recognizes not only that the Ghost can help him but also that he can help the Ghost. Later, when
walking with the other prisoners, Lear expresses even more concern, saying, "I don't want to live
except for the boy. Who'd look after him?" In his relationship with the Ghost, Lear also begins to
develop a sense of his own responsibility, saying of the Ghost: "I did him a great wrong once, a
very great wrong. He's never blamed me. I must be kind to him now." Lear is now moving
toward moral maturity, toward the recognition that he needs to practice compassion,
responsibility and action.

With Fontanelle's autopsy, Lear's responsibility becomes even more clear to him. When he sees
the inside of her body, he says, "She was cruel and angry and hard. . .. Where is the beast?" He is
surprised to find there is no monster inside of Fontanelle. "I am astonished," he continues. "I
have never seen anything so beautiful." Unlike the Ghost, Fontanelle had done Lear wrong, so he
could continue to see her as a monster, separate from himself, but at this point Lear understands
his responsibility in forming her character. "Did I make this," he asks, "and destroy it?" Earlier,
when the Ghost had tried to take Lear away from the Jail, Lear answered, "I ran away so often,
but my life was ruined just the same. Now I'll stay." Lear continues now in his desire to face
reality. He says, "I must open my eyes and see."

Lear's desire to finally see is followed almost immediately by his blinding. Scharine quoted Bond
as saying, "blindness is a dramatic metaphor for insight. That is why Gloucester, Oedipus, and
Tiresias are blind." Once blinded, Lear is released into the countryside. Near the wall, he meets
the Farmer, the Farmer's wife, and their son, all of whom describe how the lives they had known
were destroyed by Lear's wall. Lear now sees that he has harmed not only isolated individuals
but all of his society, and he is horrified. Falling on his knees, in a posture that asks forgiveness,
Lear begs the Farmer's Son not to go into the army, but his efforts are fruitless. As Scharine
pointed out, "The society that Lear created has been perfected. Cordelia's subjects are socially
moralized and go to their consumption by the social order without questioning." Lear cannot
unmake the society he has created, and he sees the depths of his guilt.

In the third act, Lear is seen living at the Gravedigger's Boy's former house with Susan, Thomas,
and John. In a sense, this is an attempt to return to the idealized, pastoral life that he glimpsed
while living with the Boy and Cordelia--the life he led in his child-like phase. Lear, however, has
changed. He is no longer the self-absorbed child, simply seeking the help of others. Now it is
Lear who shows compassion, even as the others, including the Ghost, are concerned that Lear is
endangering himself by helping those the government considers enemies. When Lear is told to
protect himself, to tell those who come to him that they must leave, Lear insists that all can stay:
"I won't turn anyone away. They can eat my food while it lasts and when it's gone they can go if

240. they like, but I won't send anyone away."

Lear is not only taking people in, however; he is also speaking out against the government he
helped to create. Lear's former Councilor appears, telling him he must end his public life: "In
future you will not speak in public or involve yourself in any public affairs. Your visitors will be
vetted by the area military authorities. All these people must go." Knowing that he cannot defeat
Cordelia's regime, Lear despairs. He is trapped. "There's a wall everywhere," he says. "I'm buried
alive in a wall. Does this suffering and misery last forever? I know nothing, I can do nothing. I
am nothing."

After Cordelia tells Lear that he will be tried and executed, however, Lear is again able to move
beyond himself and his own despair to his final act, an attempt to dig up and destroy the wall he
created. In their book, Playwrights' Progress, Colin Chambers and Mike Prior saw Lear's final
act as "so random and so futile that it seems an almost meaningless choice except in terms of the
individual conscience." For Chambers and Prior, "Lear's final nod towards the continuing
existence of a will to resist is . . . a gesture."

Yet Malcolm Hay and Philip Roberts, in their book Bond: A Study of His Plays, disagreed. "The
gesture he makes is neither final nor futile," they wrote. "It is the demonstration of Lear' s
integrity to those he leaves behind that action is both necessary and responsible" Knowing that
he will die soon anyway, Lear uses his death to show the need, not only for compassion and
responsibility, but also for action. No longer the child who hides behind his wall, Lear has
reached a position of moral maturity and even an ability to teach others. In the final scene, as the
workers leave Lear's body on stage, one looks back, showing that others can learn from Lear's
death, that there is purpose in his moral journey, that his final act is not futile.

Lear's attack on the wall also carries symbolic weight, for the barrier he seeks to destroy is not
only the physical wall he has built but the metaphoric wall he has constructed between himself
and others. In gaining compassion for his former subjects and human life in general, Lear
completes his transformation by seeking to eradicate both of these walls. Yet where he fails to
destroy the physical wall, he more importantly succeeds in tearing down the wall within himself.


How Bond related the themes of Shakespeare's King Lear to his belief that playwrights
"must be morally responsible to their societies," the result being his own version of the
classic play.

Edward Bond thinks that playwrights must be morally responsible to their societies. Their plays
ought not only to analyze history--how societies became what they are--but also to suggest ways
in which societies can better themselves. Too often, he believes, theater is immoral. It
encourages playwrights who have no political awareness; it fosters uncritical attitudes toward
plays that have become classics. Such plays, he argues, may have been moral enough ill their
days. But they have outlived their historical moments and entered the realm of myth; and
because myth codifies and perpetuates the values of the old order, it is dangerous. Bond wants
his audiences to "escape from a mythology of the past, which often lives on as the culture of the
present," and thus be free to correct injustices: theater therefore must commit itself to political

241. reform if it is to be moral instead of frivolous. Its aesthetic cannot be divorced from that
commitment.

Not surprisingly, then, Bond has turned repeatedly to our most revered cultural myths as subjects
for his plays. By doing so, he has been able to feed on fables of proven theatrical power, yet, by
revising them, to attack their social and political presuppositions The myth of King Lear haunted
Bond most of all. Why Lear? Bond replies: "I can only say that Lear was standing in my path
and I had to get him out of the way" (Theatre Quarterly, Vol 2, No.5, 1972). For Bond, Lear
epitomized all that was best and worst in Western culture. Lear was authoritarian, his rule was
socially oppressive, he was blind to the needs of common humanity, and he resorted to violence.
And yet the old king learned to see he acquired the power to penetrate the myths of the
civilization he had made--belief that tyranny can be just, that despotism can be benevolent, that
violence can preserve peace. Bond loved the old king for his insight, loathed him for neglecting
to act on it. Likewise, Bond admired Shakespeare's King Lear for its potent critique of the human
condition; but insofar as Shakespeare elected to focus on Lear's personal suffering rather than on
the society that Lear had tyrannized, Bond condemned the play as a dangerous product of its age,
bound in by the very myths it exposed.

Perhaps "condemned" is too strong a word. In The Activist Papers, Bond explains that the
Elizabethan aesthetic was different from ours. In soliloquy, Hamlet and Lear spoke not merely
through their own consciousnesses, but through "the consciousness of history itself." Their
voices were at once personal and universal: When Shakespeare wrote the court had political
power and the rulers were a private family as well as a state institution. This meant that
Shakespeare didn't need to distinguish clearly between public and private, political and personal.
He could handle the two things together so that it seemed as if political problems could have
personal solutions. That is, the problems of Lear's world could be purged within the confines of
Lear's own imagination.

What was true for the Elizabethans, however, is not true for us. Bond suggests that by
maintaining a fascination with the personal at the expense of the political, with the individual at
the expense of the social, modern drama has devolved into absurdity; and he rejects the theater of
the absurd on moral grounds: Now society can no longer be expressed politically and morally in
terms of the individual and so soliloquies don't work in the same way. The individual is no
longer a metaphor for the state and his private feelings can no longer be used to express cause in
history or will in politics. Changes in social and political relations make a new drama urgently
necessary ... The bourgeois theatre clings to psychological drama and so it can't deal with the
major dramatic themes. Hamlet's soliloquy has withered into the senile monologue of Krapp's
last tape.

This in part explains, I think, why Bond felt compelled to revise King Lear--to rip it from the
embrace of bourgeois psychology where our modern sensibilities are wont to lock it and to
address more clearly the moral issues it raises; to make it the public play that Bond thought it had
the potential to become. Bond's model for such revision was Brecht. He had seen the Berliner
Ensemble when it visited London in 1956, and his work with George Devine and his successor
William Gaskill in the Royal Court Writers' Group educated him more formally in Brecht's
methods. Lear, which he began in 1969 and which opened at the Royal Court in 1971, represents

242. Bond's first significant attempt at epic drama. In it, he presents a series of scenes (equivalent to
Brecht's gestus) that offer social and moral perceptions of the world: he disavows coherent
psychological motivation of characters and eschews conventional notions of dramatic causality.

Ms Carlson's interruption to explain the basics of the italicized term above...It's about Bertolt
Brecht; don't get confused!

The Gestus
This is Brecht's term for that which expresses basic human attitudes - not merely “gesture” but
all signs of social relations: department, intonation, facial expression. The Stanislavskian actor is
to work at identifying with the character he or she portrays. The Brechtian actor is to work at
expressing social attitudes in clear and stylized ways. So, when Shen-Te becomes Shui-Ta, she
moves in a different manner. Brecht wished to embody the “Gestus” in the dialogue - as if to
compel the right stance, movement and intonation. By subtle use of rhythm pause, parallelism
and counterpointing, Brecht creates a “gestic” language.
The songs are yet more clearly “gestic”. As street singers make clear their attitudes with overt,
grand but simple gestures, so, in delivering songs, the Brechtian actor aims to produce clarity in
expressing a basic attitude, such as despair, defiance or submission.
Instead of the seamless continuity of the naturalistic theatre, the illusion of natural disorder,
Brecht wishes to break up the story into distinct episodes, each of which presents, in a clear and
ordered manner, a central basic action. All that appears in the scene is designed to show the
significance of the basic “Gestus”. We see how this works in Mother Courage. Each scene is
prefaced by a caption telling the audience what is to be the important event, in such a way as to
suggest the proper attitude for the audience to adopt to it - for instance (Scene 3):

“She manages to save her daughter, likewise her covered cart, but her honest son is killed.”
The words in red express the playwright's view of how we should interpret the scene; Courage's
saving her business at the expense of her son is meant to prove how contemptible our actions are
made by war.


A few instances will illustrate how Bond has transformed Shakespeare' s original into a
Brechtian critique of contemporary culture. 'For example, he does not allow Lear a loving
CordelIa to forgive him his Sills and entice him into the antisocial resignation of "Come, let's
away to prison. We two alone will sing like birds in the cage." Suchcontemptus mundi finds no
sympathy in a socialist bent on reforming this world. In fact, Bond regarded Shakespeare's
Cordelia as "an absolute menace--a very dangerous type of person." I suspect he felt this way for
two reasons. First, by fighting a war on her father's behalf, Cordelia presumes to use violence to
protect the "right", and "right" to her means returning society to what it was--reinstituting a
patriarchy. And second, by defending her father, by ignoring his past iniquities and assuring him
that he has "No cause, no cause" to feel guilt, she reduces the play to a melodrama about a poor
old man who has been mightily abused. Bond abstracted those qualities of CordelIa that seemed
to him politically most significant--her self-righteous militarism and her willingness to overlook
Lear's social irresponsibility--and divided them between two characters in his own play: the new
Cordelia (no longer Lear's daughter) and her husband, the Gravedigger's Boy.

243. Bond's Cordelia is a victim of the war that Lear wages against his daughters and that his
daughters wage against each other. She hears soldiers slaughter her pigs; she watches soldiers
brutally murder her husband; then she herself is raped. These atrocities prompt her to take
revenge. She becomes a kind of guerrilla leader bent on reform who, once victorious, attempts to
make her country safe by rebuilding a wall to protect it. She thus repeats Lear's error of building
the wall in the first place. Lear himself has come to understand the folly of it. Walls only bring
woe; and so, as a blind prophet at the end of act three--a British Oedipus at Colonus--he speaks
against them. Cordelia defends herself with the myth that one needs walls to keep out enemies;
and when he protests. "Then nothing's changed! A revolution must at least reform!", she replies:
"Everything else is changed". Through CordelIa, Bond dramatizes what he regards as the major
flaw in our conception of a humane society: defensiveness.

Against this self-destructive CordelIa, Bond pits the Gravedigger's Boy, who embodies the more
charitable instincts of Shakespeare's Cordelia--someone who would allow the king to retreat
from self-knowledge and live out his old age in ignorance of what he has done. Rather like Lear's
Fool, the Boy attempts to talk sense to the poor old king--to calm the storm raging within--when
the king comes to him unhoused. Later, when he returns as a ghost, the Boy tempts Lear, in the
words of Simon Trussler, "towards an easeful rather than a useful death" --with a vision of
idyllic retreat such as Shakespeare's Cordelia offered her father. But Bond's Lear knows he must
resist the temptation, because it would mean turning his back on political responsibility; and
Bond's Lear has learned, as Shakespeare's had not, that to reform society, to build it into
something more humane, one must acknowledge the loss of innocence and then act on that loss
by tearing down the wall that separates men from other men, not merely suffer in guilty silence.

Together, then, Cordelia and the Gravedigger's Boy represent the Scylla and Charybdis, maimed
in opposition, of political defensiveness and private retreat between which Lear must sail if he is
to become a genuinely moral man. . . .
Critical Essay
Sinfield uses the occasion of concurrent productions of Shakespeare's and Bond's similar
works to compare Bond's modern version with that of its classical inspiration He concludes
that, despite criticism to the contrary, Bond's play is not a satire or "hostile critique" of
Shakespeare's work but merely employs the story to relate themes both universal and
contemporary.

King Lear is a great play. By itself, the proposition seems harmless enough, and I don't mean to
dispute it, but its ramifications in English culture are considerable. The 1982 production by the
Royal Shakespeare Company at their main theatre in Stratford and the concurrent presentation of
Edward Bond's Lear at The Other Place provoke fundamental questions about the way we use
Shakespeare.

Since its first production at the Royal Court in 1971 Bond's play has been regarded, in the main,
with horror and respect as a modern gloss on King Lear. What critics have found it difficult to
say outright, because of this matter of greatness, is that Bond's Lear amounts to a systematic and
hostile critique of Shakespeare's play, at least as it is usually understood.

King Lear suggests that loosening the conventional bonds of authority in society gives rein to all

244. manner of violent disturbance. Bond believes the opposite: that the State, as we have developed
it, is the main source of injustice, cruelty and misery: "Your Law always does more harm than
crime, and your morality is a form of violence." We need not regard this just as Bond's act of
faith; the same conclusions are reached by Richard Leakey through his palaeoanthropological
research (see Richard Leakey and Roger Lewin, People of the Lake, London, 1979). By making
his Cordelia the leader of an insurrection which, when successful, re-establishes most of the
repressive apparatus of the government it has overthrown, Bond draws attention to the fact that
in King Lear Cordelia seeks to redress the wrongs committed by her sisters by having her army
fight their army. In other words, at the level of the State and its readiness to take and to sacrifice
the lives of ordinary people, King Lear does not envisage the need for an alteration in principle.
Shakespeare's king perceives that the State has perpetuated injustice: "Take physic, Pomp!
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel / That thou mayst shake the superflux to them," but
pomp is not called upon to revise its authority, only to distribute superfluity. Albany's final
proposal is that Kent and Edgar should "the gor'd state sustain." Bond's point, in relation both
to King Lear and to certain modern ideas about revolution and social change, is that you cannot
expect to modify the repressive Lear society without challenging its fundamental structures.

Shakespeare's and Bond's attitudes are dependent finally upon divergent views of human nature.
When Shakespeare's Lear demands, "Then let them anatomise Regan, see what breeds about her
heart. Is there any cause in nature that make these hard hearts?," there is no reply. It seems that
we must refer the answer to the gods, who are not as systematically concerned for humanity as
Lear once thought. The autopsy on Fontanelle in Bond's play leads Lear to appreciate the
potential beauty and goodness of humanity: "She sleeps inside like a lion and a lamb and a child.
The things are so beautiful. I am astonished. I have never seen anything so beautiful." For
Shakespeare the problem begins when authority is weakened. That is why there is no prior
motivation for Lear and his daughters: established hierarchy guarantees order and no remoter
source is in question, except perhaps the gods. Bond, however, shows that his characters have
been socialised into paranoia and violence. Shakespeare's Lear spends most of the play
discovering what the world is, essentially, like; Bond's Lear discovers that things do not have to
be the way they are.

The positive force in Shakespeare's play is the personal loyalty of Cordelia, Kent and Edgar. It is
shown to transcend the punitive ethic assumed by the king: "I know you do not love me, for your
sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong: You have some cause, they have not No cause,
no cause." But the play knows no way of relating this generosity of spirit to the structure of State
authority. That is why it is difficult to reconcile Cordelia's initial legalism with her subsequent
magnanimity: one belongs to the endorsement of formal order in the play, the other to the
interpersonal ethic which responds to the collapse of order. Shakespeare, with great integrity,
makes his inability to relate the two apparent when he has Cordelia's army defeated. The
interpersonal ethic remains as a subversive intuition of another way of relating, but the
reconstitution of the State over the dead body of Cordelia is offered as the most satisfactory
attainable conclusion.

The most provocative aspect of Bond's Lear, conversely, is the repudiation of merely personal
solutions. The Gravedigger's Boy represents a pastoral withdrawal which is destroyed, initially,
through Lear's selfish intrusion. His ghostly presence helps Lear to recover his sanity through the

245. experience of personal affection (the combined role of the Fool and Cordelia in Shakespeare's
play). But Bond makes his Lear realise that this is not enough. Whereas Shakespeare allows Lear
to rejoice in the prospect of imprisonment with Cordelia and the selfishness of this sentiment is
not foregrounded, the Boy's notion that Lear should withdraw from political engagement, put a
wall around them and accept the demands of the State, is recognized as a temptation. So Lear
allows him to die and sets out to begin dismantling the wall. Individual "redemption" through
interpersonal love is not enough, the State must be confronted.

In August 1982 Bond's Lear seemed relevant enough, with the Falklands, Lebanon and Poland in
mind. Without necessarily agreeing with Bond, we can see that he has engaged with major
political issues. The RSC production by Barry Kyle was excellent. The epic mode of the play is
not immediately suited to a small space with the audience on three sides, and it may be that this
staging altered the implications of the violence in the play, bringing it into our homes (as it were)
rather than keeping it out there in the political arena where it belongs. But perhaps this
corresponds to the effect of TV--the medium through which most of us experience political
violence--and is therefore appropriate. Barry Kyle made strong use of diagonal lines where a
conventional stage would have permitted depth, and managed to establish stylisation and
allusion--for instance, taking the clothes-line behind which the Gravedigger's Boy is killed
diagonally, and the final interview between CordelIa and Lear, with the Boy behind him, at right
angles to that line. Bob Peck was massive as Lear; it became quite excruciating to follow his
weary, painful limbs in movement. Mark Rylance was both gruesome and winning as the Boy
and his interaction with Lear was physical and moving. It falls to these two actors to repudiate
any imputation that Bond is deficient in positive human feeling--to show that the rejection of the
interpersonal pastoral is grounded in sufficient awareness of what is sacrificed. To my mind they
achieved this.

Adrian Noble, who produced King Lear, was evidently conscious of the main lines of Bond's
critique. Bob Crowley's set, a towering, bleak imperial facade (the back of which was torn out
when Lear is exposed on the heath) was reminiscent of the wall which dominates the Bond set;
many of the costumes were the same--rough, clumsy greatcoats, the gear of an army on the
march, exposed to danger, accustomed to discomfort. Some of the casting of the two plays
overlapped significantly, and Bob Peck looked like Michael Gambon, who was Shakespeare's
Lear. I am about to make a number of intricate and critical points about this interpretation ofKing
Lear, so it should be established at the start that Gambon's performance was an extraordinary
achievement: entirely convincing, broad in scope, moving though not in the expected places,
inventive but not quirky.

As a member of the International Shakespeare Conference I had the advantage of a question and
answer session with Noble, so I know that it was his intention to bring out a contemporary
political dimension in King Lear. He said that the effect of concurrent work on Bond's play was
like a steady drip of cold water, preventing them from keeping King Lear in a separate historical
pocket; that the country was at war when the play was in rehearsal, that he wanted to show "the
potential for violence which you get within an absolute State," and that they had felt the events
and value system of the play to be relevant constantly in the current political climate.

In many ways this was a triumphantly political interpretation. "We did want to put a war on

246. stage," Noble remarked, and the sense of unnamed people moving about a recalcitrant terrain,
menaced by each other, was strong, and the sense that they had to lift really heavy objects, had
trouble keeping warm, keeping going. The great achievement was the refusal or suppression of
the transcendence which is usually assumed to be the goal of certain episodes. In this production
Edmund, Goneril and Regan are not evil incarnate (nor is there any attempt to make them seem
justified, as in Peter Brook's version). Edmund (Clive Wood) is butch, sulky and scornful;
Goneril (Sara Kestelman) is like an obsessive landlady, tidying up the set, who goes on to
accosting the lodgers in the hallway. They are cruel and selfish, but they are people. The account
of CordelIa shaking "The holy water from her heavenly eyes" is all but smothered by soldiers
humping sandbags around the stage; "Ripeness is all" is shouted, desperately, over the drum of
the preparing army in turbulent lighting Frequently lighting is used to disconfirm the centrality of
the main protagonists. It refuses to focus them but, instead, moves independently, so that they
come in and out of it. When Edgar flees, the spotlight rakes the stage and the audience, as if from
a watchtower in a prison camp.

The whole effect is to quell the commonest interpretation of the playas "tragedy," wherein the
king, especially, transcends events by the intensity of hIs inner experience. So Noble reserves
attention for the range of characters and for the power of political relations. Gambon's Lear is not
inward looking: he does not discover reality in the depths of himself. He is mad for much less of
the time than is commonly supposed, so that there is far less pitiful raving, far less sense that the
essential struggle, the essential reality, is inside his head. In the disputes with Goneril and Regan
he retains the unwavering baleful glare with which he began; his anger is rarely uncontrolled, he
is frail but determined, nobody's fool. In particular, he is rational at the Dover meeting with
Gloucester, so that "A dog's obey'd in office" comes through as powerful analysis. This scene
was most effective: there was little courting of expressionist significance, but two old men seeing
the way the world goes, nodding, chuckling and crying together. Again, when Lear wakes with
Cordelia, the whole impression is of a bemused old man, and of physical frailty: it is a human
incident, and the visual key is given by pyjamas rather than the customary flowing white robes of
an Old Testament prophet/penitent. "Come, let's away to prison" is spoken matter of factly,
flatly, as a clear perception of the kind of life that may be left to them; and at the end Lear is
sane, though he has trouble coping with a stage full of people. At every point in the latter part of
the play Noble and Gambon prevent Lear becoming an ultimate representative of "man."
This assault on the transcendence often ascribed to the "tragic hero" is expressed most
importantly in the treatment of the blind/sight imagery--"I stumbled when I saw." The production
is very physical throughout. Lear is ready to strike anyone, and also to hug anyone--he hugs
Goneril, the Fool, Kent, Edgar, Gloucester. "I see it feelingly," Gloucester says. The production
takes this up, and so disqualifies the whole dichotomy of mundane versus transcendent vision.
The point is not insight into a further reality, there is no further reality--just the material world in
which people and systems do things to you, and you respond to it most fully through the sense of
touch. Touch is both more basic (in Platonic thought, sight is the highest sense, touch the lowest)
and more communicative, more to do with human interaction. For this Lear, the chaos and threat
is not, finally, inside him; the precision of Gambon's acting is all directed towards responding to
other people. This is a Lear of reaction, not distraction.

We have, then, a production which turns one eye towards Bond, which is aiming at a political
awareness relevant to the problems of the world today. At the same time, in the middle of the

247. production, there is an alternative, incompatible conception, equally powerfully realised. This
split exposes with almost brutal clarity the uses to which Shakespeare is put by the RSC and
English culture at large.
The issue is focused by the storm, which is brilliantly staged with flashing lights, billowing
smoke, and noises which were those of the elements but which also (several people remarked)
led one to think of an air raid on Beirut (the current international horror). This was a tour de
force, a land of infernal discotheque. And perched above it all, on a platform on a pole fifteen
feet above the stage, were Lear (looking like a Blakean deity) and the Fool clinging to him. But
all this magnificent effect worked against a socio-political understanding of what was going on.
A society in dissolution was transformed into the universe in apocalypse. The idea is in the text--
"Is this the promis'd end?" but Doomsday is not a socio-political concept.

Noble said that his idea in staging the storm was to show "what it's like inside that head .. what
it's like when the horizon tilts." Fine, but this is suddenly to transform the action into the interior
monologue which in other respects it is not. The presentation of real human relations, with all the
disparities of power, suffering and understanding, and their implied ramifications in society at
large, could well continue through the scenes on the heath. But Noble is tempted into another
manner--he mentioned Ian Kott's essay "King Lear or Endgame."

The Beckettian aspect is developed through the Fool, who is played with great agility,
inventiveness and conviction by Antony Sher. Initially his relationship with Lear is played
realistically: he tries to cheer Lear up but cannot avoid mentioning the source of Lear's disquiet.
But the manner of the professional clown is already hinting at a more abstract notion of the
Fool's role. When he and Lear crouch at the front of the stage and peer desperately at each other,
their shadows thrown monstrously on to the back wall, and when the Fool, left for once to
himself, goes off like a spring released, cavorting manically round the stage and shaking his fist
at the sky, we begin to suspect that the Fool is supposed to stand for something, perhaps an
aspect of Lear's psyche. Adrian Noble in fact confirmed that this was his conception: this is why,
in the most striking innovation of the production, Lear kills the Fool.

Lear is anatomizing Regan--plucking handfuls of feathers out of a pillow (a few are still in the
air in the closing scenes of the play); he flings the pillow across the stage, sending a light
swinging, and the Fool, who has jumped in fright into a large dustbin (Endgame) catches it; Lear
stabs the pillow, and the Fool through it; Lear never realises what he has done. Noble meant this
to be Lear killing his conscience, that of which he is ashamed. I didn't think of this at the time,
and I don't see how Lear is supposed to manage without a conscience in the second part of the
play (he seems to have it at the reunion with Cordelia).

Two general reflections arise from the confusion in this production--three if we begin, as we
should, by granting without reserve its sheer professional competence, intelligence and power to
provoke thought. The first concerns the RSC. In the 1960s it was a spearhead, in some ways
more important than the Royal Court, of a left-liberal involvement in the theatre and ultimately
in the country. By the end of the decade, this movement had become established--had become an
establishment. In theatre, it had purpose and committed audiences when the West End was
floundering; it successfully challenged censorship; it had the endorsement of national subsidy; it
gave birth to the National Theatre. The dominant influences were Brecht, representing political

248. concern; and Beckett Artaud, representing a sense that the human condition is fundamentally
absurd and violent. Together, these influences destroyed the assumptions of naturalism and
opened the way to vital developments in theatrical stylisation, but, finally, they are incompatible.
The first is materialist and optimistic about humanity, tracing our ills to changeable political
structures. The second is essentialist and nihilistic, discovering in the depths of personality
inexorable tendencies towards cruelty, alienation and self-destruction. Their co-occurrence in the
work of Peter Brook for the RSC, including his King Lear of 1962 (much influenced by Jan
Kott), The Marat-Sade andUS, rendered this work powerful but politically and artistically
incoherent The same conjunction infonns the 1982 production of King Lear.

But the original movement, contradictory as it was, was of its time. These were new, exciting
influences, and the confused and compromised political stance was characteristic of other
institutions in the period. Bond's use of violence to shock us into awareness also shows signs of
Artaud. What we must ponder now is how far the RSC is living off the manner which served it
before, how far it is depending on the thought of an earlier generation rather than assessing,
clarifying and challenging that thought. Two pieces of evidence are quite disconcerting. One is
Noble's appeal to Jan Kott ("one has to read Kott")--Lear even leaves his boots at the front of the
stage, like Estragon. The other is the programme. The RSC pioneered the intellectual
programme, but this one is all design, a production job, in which pictures and quotations from
the inost diverse prestigious intellectual sources are jumbled together in an evocative collage
(including Auden, Dylan Thomas, Keats, Kozintsev and Dostoyevsky); and, in particular, we
find the political awareness of Orwell and Bond ("Our world is not absurd--our society is")
alongside the apocalyptic transcendentalism of Ecclesiastes and Yeats. It seems, at least, that the
RSC is in danger of parodying its former achievements.

However, and this is my second general reflection, it is probably not fair to blame this gifted
company for problems which may be traced much further back, namely to our whole conception
of Shakespeare and his "greatness." Since King Lear is a great play--I think this is the underlying
argument--it must speak to our condition. And if our condition seems to involve brutally
destructive political systems and profound inner compulsions which threaten a general
apocalypse, then the play must be seen to address such issues The text as we have received it
tends to encourage certain ways of seeing the world and to inhibit others and does not, of course,
envisage modern society. Therefore the play and current concerns must, by one means or
another, be brought into line.

Hence the extraordinary conventions which govern contemporary productions. In the attempt to
get the play to "work" as the director wants, almost anything may be cut, almost any "business"
may be added to affect the significance of the words and, increasingly, words may be altered or
added. But all these developments are mashed together so that only the expert can see what has
been done, and the impression that we are "really" seeing Shakespeare is preserved For an
excellently detailed and discriminating description of such practices, see Stanley Wells's account
in Critical Quarterly of two productions of Measure for Measure. Of one production he
concludes: "Some of the ways in which it departed from tradition were entirely legitimate.
Others required textual tinkering. The resulting play may be more sentimental, and happier, than
that suggested by the script that has come down to us, but in its own terms it worked." But Dr.
Wells still speaks, throughout, of "the play." It is assumed that we remain, importantly, in the

249. presence of Shakespeare's original genius.
My objective is not a theoretical discussion of at what point this or that production becomes no
longer "the same" play; nor is it a complaint that Shakespeare's text is being tampered with (it is
still there for another day). I am trying to identify the cultural assumptions, based on a
conception of Shakespeare's greatness, which hold that we can and should ventriloquise
contemporary significance through the plays, and the manipulations of presentation which ensue.

In part directors are trying to cope with the fact that most people in the audience don't understand
the language: part of the greatness is that Shakespeare speaks to us even across such barriers of
comprehension. Hence the business which breaks up a conversation or a line unexpectedly,
making a joke unanticipated in a straightforward reading (it is called "making the scene work").
But also, the cutting and business are designed to wrest the text away from what seem to be its
dominant concerns and into a preferred dimension of meaning, using every slightest cue, nuance,
crux and hiatus to develop an "interpretation." If, instead, the company reworked the play
explicitly, the interpretation would lose the apparent authority of Shakespeare, and Shakespeare's
basically conservative oeuvre would lose the apparent authority of speaking to all conditions.
This is the great collusion in which most productions of Shakespeare have become involved. The
shuffles commonly conducted maintain both these dubious authorities, and more adventurous
treatments--like Bond's and Charles Marowitz's become objects of suspicion.

It is these pressures that lie behind the kinds of efforts the RSC makes to achieve relevance. This
production pushes the conventions of interpretation to the limit by having Lear kill the Fool and
by omitting (as Brook did) Edmund's attempt to save Cordelia and Lear. The first is designed to
develop Lear's inner experience in a way barely suggested by the text; the second is designed to
suppress issues of good, evil and the perversity of fortune and to leave the responsibility for
falling to secure the safety of Lear and Cordelia with Albany who (Noble says) is preoccupied
with the feud in his own family--so that the theme of the damage done by arbitrary rule is
sustained to the end. In so far as these intentions are (as I have argued) contradictory, they
witness to a theatrical mode which is in danger of ossification. By offering extreme instances of
the conventions of presentation which accompany that mode, they draw attention to their
artificiality. Noble leads his audience (or those to whom I spoke) to ask whether this
is really Shakespeare.

The questions which should be asked, however, are whether any production which aspires to
modern relevance is really Shakespeare; whether our conception of the greatness of King Lear--
meaning capable of speaking positively to all conditions--is honest; and whether attempts to
ventriloquise a modern political stance through the play will inevitably be confused by
countervailing implications in the text. It may be that the only way to produce a more definite
political theatre (or criticism) is not to interpret King Lear but, as Edward Bond sees, to quarrel
with it.