Shakespeare
The English-speaking world owes much to the works of William Shakespeare. His contributions were not only in literature with his plays and sonnets, but also in language with idioms and new words.
For example: Shakespeare's Words Idioms
For over 400 years, his plays have been performed in many different venues and media as well as spun into various adaptations.
Actors, though, have some superstitions about saying the name of "that Scottish play"
Macbeth
It's humorously explained below:
As for venues, one favorite is Shakespeare in the Park.
That is the setting for one of the chapters:
The Commander and the Chief series:
Book 4 - Rainmaker:
Cold cases, Cold War relics, revenge served cold.
All spark fires of biblical proportions that only a Rainmaker from heaven can quench.
All spark fires of biblical proportions that only a Rainmaker from heaven can quench.
Available on Amazon.
The Old World meets the Wild West in the 21st century when the Commander with his family and the Chief fly in from across the pond for Fourth of July celebrations in Hanging Tree, Wyoming.
The Commander's parents, the Duke and Duchess of Yorkchestershire, and his older brother Sir Bobby are asked to perform samples of Shakespeare's plays in Rainmaker Park in Hanging Tree.
That's between recitations of Cowboy Poetry and the Coyote Calling Contest.
The chapter starts as Bill Clark, the mayor, introduces the royal actors to an audience in the Wild West.
Part 4
Chapter 4
All the World’s a Stage
After intermission, Bill Clark took center stage, again.
“Cowboy Poetry was just the warm-up, folks.” Bill rubbed his hands together. “Now, for the main event. Shakespeare in the Park. And we’re so fortunate to have the Duke and Duchess of Yorkchestershire and their eldest son Bobby Barrett…veteran of the London West End Theater.”
The crowd chanted, “Duke! Duke! Duke! Duke! ...”
“The Duke, you say?” Bill looked off-stage. “Then let’s bring out The Duke.”
A stage hand retrieved a larger-than-life cutout of John Wayne, dressed as the quintessential American cowboy, slinging a gun.
“It’s The Duke, folks.” Bill opened up his hands, seeing many blank faces. “You asked for him by name.”
Pete Parker called out, “Not many remember John Wayne, Mayor. Especially the young’uns.”
“But us old timers do,” yelled another. “Like the Mayor says. He’s The Duke.”
“Without further ado, from across the pond, here’s the royal Barretts.” Bill made his exit, taking the John Wayne cutout with him.
Then the Duke and Duchess and their elder son Bobby minced onto the stage. All were dressed in Elizabethan style costumes.
The father and son looked dashing. Tights. Codpieces. Ruffs. Pumpkin pants. Thigh high leather boots. And capes draped over half their shoulder.
“I am the Duke,” Sir Robert’s voice boomed. “The real Duke.”
“Naw. The real duke’s John Wayne,” said an old timer.
“Bloody Americans,” Sir Robert mumbled under his breath. Then he affected his thespian face. “I’m pleased to introduce my lovely wife, Her Grace Regina Barrett, the Duchess of Yorkchestershire.”
Regina donned an elegant green Elizabethan dress. Train. Puffy sleeves. Red hair covered by a wimple. She returned a graceful curtsey.
Then Bobby added, “Mother will perform a scene from that Scottish Play.”
“You mean Macbeth?” Regina smiled at Bobby.
Bobby and Sir Robert stepped to the edge of the stage and performed a strange exorcism. Both turned around three times, spit over their left shoulders, then quoted from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice:
Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
“Actors are superstitious.” Sir Robert looked over the puzzled audience. “It’s bad luck to say the name of that Scottish play. Being so dark and bloody as it is.”
“What was it now?” Regina asked. “Macbeth?”
Bobby and Sir Robert repeated the exorcism: Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you. And the Barretts slipped out the word Macbeth a few times, followed by the exorcism, ensuring laughs.
Then Sir Robert said, “Now on with that Scottish play.”
“You mean Macbeth?” Reggie shouted from the audience.
“Enough, Reginald,” said Bobby. “Mummy’s up.”
Sir Robert explained, “In Act Five, Scene 1, Lady Macbeth—Oh, damn. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you. The Lady is sleepwalking after murdering the King of Scotland.”
Regina stepped about, rubbing her hand:
“Out, damned spot! out, I say!
One: two: why, then, ’tis time to do’t.
Hell is murky!
…
“Here’s the smell of the blood still:
all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
Oh, oh, oh!...”
Lady Macbeth’s monolog finished. The Barretts regrouped. And Sir Robert with Bobby stepped out for a later scene.
Bobby, as Seyton, spoke: “The queen, my lord, is dead.”
Then Sir Robert as Macbeth responded:
“…
Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
…”
The three Barretts bowed to enthusiastic applause at the end of their selected scenes from that Scottish play.
Macbeth.
* * *
In the audience, young Robert sat down beside Reggie. “May I have a word with you?”
“What’s troubling you, son?” Reggie asked.
“Uncle Nick.” Robert’s eyes darted about. “He’s carrying a gun.”
“Of course. He’s a bloody American.” Then Reggie chortled. “You’ve spent last summer working here on the ranch and just figured that out? Americans in these parts have a slobbering love affair with their guns.”
“But he just had a chat with me about Sophie.”
“Yes, yes. Old Nick’s not blind. You’ve been smitten with your American cousin since the day you joined her Orlovic Pride on the catty thing.”
“Kitty Chat.” Robert continued, “Uncle Nick told me he’s happy I’m seeing Sophie. But if I hurt her…ill-treated her in anyway, he’d shoot me. Then he patted his gun.”
“And he meant it, too.” Reggie raised his eyebrows. “If it’s any consolation, Old Nick had the same chat with me about Nova when we first met. Two years ago. At John Wayne Airport in Pasadena.”
“Father?”
“Relax.” Reggie put his arm about his son. “Deep down Nick’s a decent bloke. He told me, after the Admiral was killed, Nova had been quite depressed. He worried about her. And now he sees she smiles a lot. He knows I’ve made her happy again. And he’s glad I’m part of the family. And I’m glad he’s my brother-in-law. For I know he’ll always have our back, son.”
* * *
Next skit, Bobby Barrett strode on stage. “Now for some Hamlet. A line by line translation of Hamlet’s eulogy. Elizabethan English to American. In Act 5, Scene 1, Hamlet speaks to his friend Horatio. After the gravedigger unearths some human remains.”
Bobby looked into the audience. “Ready, my dear?”
Tina Dahl lifted up the plastic skull. “Behold Yorick, the king’s jester.”
“His name’s Spike,” said a wag from the audience.
“Incoming.” Tina tossed the skull.
Bobby caught it and looked intently at it. “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.”
To the audience: “He was rip roaringly funny.”
To the skull: “He hath borne me on his back a thousand times, and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!”
To the audience: “He gave me a lot of piggy back rides in his day.”
To the skull: “My gorge rises at it.”
To the audience: “I think I’m going to puke.”
…
Bobby finished the scene after many laughs. Then threw the skull back to Tina. And gave the audience an exaggerated bow. The crowd returned applause and whistles.
Bobby loved it. He was in his element.
The final skit of the set, the crowd chanted, “Duke! Duke! Duke! Duke! …” And Sir Robert strode on the stage like it was his world.
“This Band of Brother’s speech is from Henry V,” Sir Robert’s voice boomed out. “It’s set on the Eve of Saint Crispin’s Day. The eve of the Battle of Agincourt in the year of our Lord, 1415. Indeed, this would be a great victory for England and immortalized by our Bard as the St. Crispin’s Day Speech.
“In this scene, Westmorland informs the King that the English are greatly outnumbered. But the King urges his men to give it their all and fight the bloody French anyway.”
So Sir Robert as Henry V recited the King’s speech:
“My cousin, Westmorland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark’d to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
…
“And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd—
We few, we happy few,
we band of brothers—”
Then explosions burst a block away. And rockets streamed in the sky.
The audience thought it was part of the act and applauded wildly with wolf whistles.
Sir Robert snapped open his eyes. He had not finished the scene. But he went with it and graciously bowed.
“Nice touch, dear,” Carol said to Bill Clark backstage. “Adding the fireworks.”
Bill returned a puzzled look. “I didn’t call for any fireworks.”
Finally, it sunk in as the explosions got more intense, more frequent.
“It’s an attack,” yelled someone from the crowd. “Remember that wedding at The Chief’s Lodge!”
There were shrieks. People ducked under tables and hit the grass and pavement. Others pulled out their guns. And Bill Clark whisked Sir Robert off stage.
It was déjà vu all over again.
---------------------------------------
And that's only the beginning of the fireworks.
Please continue reading for what happens next in Rainmaker, available on Amazon.
All published books (paperback, Kindle, Kindle Unlimited) of The Commander and the Chief series are linked as a set on amazon: The Commander and the Chief series
Your readership is appreciated.
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