The rumours of Timon’s gold have reached the ears of our Painter and our Poet who, at the start of act V, are camped outside Timon’s cave discussing how they plan on separating Timon from more of his money. Having nothing to actually offer him, they instead decide that they will ask for money in exchange for a promise to deliver on a project in the future. How nice.
They are unaware that Timon has over heard their whole conversation. After letting them squirm and grovel a bit, Timon asks them if they have come to get gold, like the others. They admit that they heard he had money again but that this had nothing to do with why they are at his doorstep. He plays long for a little bit and messes with them before finally chasing them off.
Moments later, Flavius arrives, leading two Athenian senators. It would seem now that they are willing to welcome Timon home. And coincidentally, they need his help to try to talk Alcibiades out of razing the city to the ground. Once again Timon pretends to play along only to flip everything around into some variation of “&@!# off and die!” (Look for some of the choice insults and curses in the upcoming speeches podcast!)
The senators eventually get the message but as they go to leave Timon in peace, he tells them not to return and that this sea-shore shall be his eternal resting place.
The news of Timon’s refusal is relayed to the city of Athens in scene 2 before turning to a lone soldier by Timon’s cave in scene 3. He expected to find Timon but instead he sees only a tomb. The illiterate soldier cannot reads the inscription so he uses some wax to make of copy of the writing and heads back to his captain, Alcibiades.
The final scene takes place just outside Athens, with Alcibiades’ army ready to besiege and conquer the city. The senators begin to plead with the general. They make the case that while he has just cause to seek retribution against some people in the city, that not everybody is equally guilty of his exile, that they just wanted to give him some time to cool his temper. In fact, it would seem that those people who did him wrong have died of an excess of cunning.
They invite him not to kill everyone but, if he really wants vengeance, to decimate the town instead, as in to kill one in every 10 people. They will not even oppose him. Timon relents and accepts instead to put to the sword whoever the senators will identify as the guilty parties and spare every one else.
At the very end, Alcibiades reads Timon’s epitaph and then enters the city, promising to help sets things right in Athens.
Is there a moral to this story? Was anything accomplished by Timon’s death? I’ll leave that up to you to decide.
Legendary sonneteer Maya Pankalla returns for sonnet 53.
This wraps up our eighth play and our final play of 2013!
Stay tuned for the upcoming speeches podcast. And send us your suggestions for which play you would like us to tackle next!
Join us by contributing to the Bard Brawl journal volume I at our Indiegogo page.
The table is set, the guests drenched in lukewarm water and the flatterers pelted with rocks. It time for act IV of Shakespeare’s tragedy, Timon of Athens!
Welcome back Brawlers. Last show Timon’s ‘friends’ were “touched and found base metal” by his servants so that Timon finally figured out that he was penniless and friendless and that pretty much no one but his servants cared that he was totally bankrupt.
With nothing left for him in Athens by the start of act IV, he decides that all human beings are disgusting, two-faced scumbags and so he does the only sensible thing and runs off to live in the wilderness by himself. Insert litany of curses and well-wishes: may your prostitutes be considered virgins, may the young steal from and beat up the old, may your state be a lawless cesspool fueled by avarice and lust.
So, it turns out that the only friends Timon has are his servants, with Flavius being particularly vocal about how it falls to the servants to try to help Timon out however they can. “Flavour’ Flavious runs off to find and continue to serve Timon at the end of scene 2.
Seems that by scene 3, Timon has moved into a cave with a view, at the edge of some woods, right by the seashore. Seems like things might be looking up for this foraging caveman misanthrope.
As he’s digging for some roots to eat, Timon finds some gold. Timon’s about to bury all of it again when he hears some marching music in the distance. He buries most of the gold but keeps some of it, so he can torment the other humans with it, very likely. Alcibiades, who has been banished from Athens and now gathers up an army to assault the city, wanders by Timon and his cave.
Alcibiades figures out who this is but has no idea what happened back in Athens and why Timon is out here in the woods. Just like we have no idea why Alcibiades is leading an army flanked by two prostitutes. But, seeing as they are there, Timon sees an opportunity to use them in the war effort: he gives them gold and asks them to infect every in Athens with the STDs they are undoubtedly carrying. Timon also gives Alcibiades gold to make sure that he slaughters everyone in Athens. Lovely.
As soon a Alcibiades leaves, Apemantus shows up. They swap insult and wish one another a long and painful life, full of suffering, before they quickly part ways.
When Apemantus exits, some bandits, having heard that Timon found gold, show up to steal it. Timon gives them the gold and sends them off to Athens to rob all of the lying thieves in Athens blind. And maybe slit a few throats while they’re at it.
Finally, Flavius shows up and offers his continued service to Timon. His former master is about to turn him away but Flavius manages to convince him that maybe not every human being is a totally reprehensible entity entirely bereft of honestly and worth. So, Timon amends his position: all of humanity needs to die, except for Flavius.So Timon gives him some money and chases him off.
What’s left now that Timon’s given all of his money away. Again?
With creditors knocking at his door, Timon turns to his friends to lend him a little money so he can avoid bankruptcy. He sends his servants out to see the three lords who he feels pretty confident will be able to bail him out.
Flaminius arrives at lord Lucullus’ house in act III, scene 1. Lucullus greets Timon’s servant warmly as he expects that he is here to deliver some sort of gift. When he discovers that Flaminius is there to ask for money, Lucullus puts on his best ‘I told him not to be so generous’ act and then tries to bribe Flaminius so he’ll pretend he wasn’t able to find Lucullus. Flaminius tosses the cash back at Lucullus then curses him (and all other selfish jerks like him) to be boiled in a vat of molten coins.
The next lord to be visited is Lucilius. By the start of this scene, he has apparently heard that Lucullus refused to bail Timon out. He finds it deplorable and says that of Timon had turned to him instead, he would have been happy to help him. And on that cue, Servilius enters. Lucilius also seems to think that Timon’s servant is here offering gifts at first. When he finds out that Servilius is here to beg some cash for Timon, Lucilius replies that he would love to be able to help Timon out but – wouldn’t you know? – he just spent the last of his available funds this very morning, just before Servilius arrived. What an unfortunate coincidence.
Are all of Timon’s friends flattering jerks? Surely Sempronius isn’t like Lucius, Ventidius, or Lucullus? At the start of scene 3, Sempronius seems disgusted by the fact that the others lords have refused to help Timon. Even worse, Sempronius is disgusted that he wasn’t asked first, as this might suggest that maybe Timon doesn’t like him as well as the other lords. So, if Timon doesn’t care for him as much and his close friends refused to bail him out, why should Sempronius have to help him out? He proclaims to Timon’s servant that any man who would dishonour him in this way won’t get any help from him.
With no one left to ask for money, Timon has locked himself up in his house in scene 4. In a hall in his house, his creditor’s servants want to be paid. Seems that the servants aren’t too keen to be collecting from Timon when they know full well that their masters walk around with the jewellery that Timon once gave them. As they wait, Timon’s messengers return to announce that they have failed to get any money for Timon’s debts.
Timon eventually enters the hall in a rage and is greeted by the collectors’ bills. He offers to pay with his blood and flesh and chases the servants out of his house. Once they are gone, he asks his servants to invite all of his former friends back to his estate for one final banquet.
We leave Timon behind for a moment as scene 5 takes place in the Athenian senate-house and features the general Alcibiades. It appears that one of Alcibiades’ soldiers was involved in the violent crime in Athens. The law calls from his execution but Alcibiades, as his commanding officer, is here to beg the senate for leniency. The senate refuses. When Alcibiades is a little too insistent in his critique of the thanklessness of the Athenian senate, they banish him from the city despite all of the wars he fought for them. This should remind you of another general who was forced to turn his back on his city.
The last scene of the act takes place in Timon’s house. The lords have all arrived for the feats and are commenting that clearly Timon’s need for money must not have been so great as they have heard. Timon greet them all and escorts them into the dining room where for each guest is layed out a covered dish. The lords sit down, Timon curses all of Athens’ flattering lords, and once the covers are removed, each guest sees that their meal is warm water and rocks. Timon slashes the water in their ungrateful faces and then drives them out in a hail of stones.
The craziest part of the whole thing is that none of the lords seems to have a clue as to why Timon would be pissed at them…
Penniless and friendless, What’s next for Timon? Find out next week!
Shout out to the Segal Centre’s production of Othello in its last weekend and the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey’s upcoming Pericles from Dec. 4 – 29.
Join us by contributing to the Bard Brawl journal volume I at our Indiegogo page.
Othello, directed by Alison Darcy. (courtesy the Segal Centre)
Daniel J. Rowe
It is one of Shakespeare’s most engaging and intriguing works: Othello, now playing at the Segal Centre in Montreal. It is a favourite of the Bard Brawl and watched with scrutiny by viewers. Check out brawler Eric Jean‘s review. Director Alison Darcy spoke with the Bard Brawl.
Bard Brawl:Othello is huge in scope and theme, and it’s been done a lot. Does that add pressure or do you enjoy that?
Alison Darcy: Both. I think it adds pressure and I kind of enjoy it. Of course everyone has their own ideas about the play and about Shakespeare and how it should be done, and I like the fact that there is no should and this is the way our team felt that it’s truth was being revealed in the most interesting way in the moment. This was what we wanted to offer from it. It’s interesting to challenge people with that because so many people have really strong preconceptions about how Shakespeare should be done. It’s interesting not to necessarily always follow that, but to go with what you think is the truth of the play.
B.B.: In the same sense don’t you find that often people allow a lot more exploration these days then they used to?
A.D.: For sure. Now, it’s almost expected to have your own interpretation, but it’s still, when it comes down to actual technique of the language or certain characters, people still have their reservations and their favourites and their favourite lines and their ideas of what things mean. Before it used to be more stylistically, they would say that it would have to be done in a certain period or a certain focus on the language in a very specific way, accents or whatnot. Now it’s more about interpretation, but still people have their preconceptions and they come out quite ferociously at times. People are quite willing to go to battle to defend their ideas of how Shakespeare should be done. Particularly this play.
B.B.: You use water as a metaphor throughout, and the final dramatic scene was very much centred on it. Can you tell me a bit about why you decided to use water in that way?
A.D.: For me it came from the text. It’s really prevalent in the text – water as a theme. It’s constantly referred to as being symbolically linked with deceit, and with passion. It says, ‘she’s false as water.’ A lot of the major themes are linked to water in the play, and so I was originally already playing with that. I also find that elementally, it’s very connected to the way the play moves. It’s a very quick-paced, mercurial kind of text, and it shifts and changes very quickly as does Iago’s mind and the way he moves and it feels like water to me.
The ending and the way I used the water in the ending? I like to leave it open to debate. People have been very vocal about it. Some people really didn’t like it, and some people absolutely love it. What’s more interesting to me is what people think it means. Some people are just absolutely baffled by it and others have very clear ideas about what metaphorically it meant. I have my own ideas about it of course, but I have no interest in didactically forcing that opinion on anybody else. It’s an allegory or it’s a metaphor and it’s there to be interpreted… It’s what I felt encapsulated that moment for me in the play. The fallout from the climax and the gushing of everything emotionally and psychologically that comes forth in that fifth act.
B.B.: You can’t do Othello without addressing race, but you don’t seem to push that theme far, and in not pushing the race card as far as you could have a lot of other themes emerge like the Emilia feminist line. She was really good.
A.D.: She’s amazing, and maybe it’s because I’m a female director, but I’ve always found the female characters in this play particularly moving. People often kind of hate Desdemona – not this version though, people have I think been liking this Desdemona. I always found it unfair for people to judge the character the way they did and I don’t find historically that Emilia gets her due, as such a strong character. I guess my leaning were in that direction to explore.
I wouldn’t say that I didn’t explore the racism. I think what I did do was change the conversation a bit, so that it wasn’t necessarily racism, but it was more about ‘outsiderism’, which is definitely something that is very strong in the play and they do treat him as an outsider, and I think that the exoticism of him and the separation of him constantly creates a personna that he allows himself to engage in: the story teller, the magnificent warrior that I don’t think he really is. I think he enjoys the language and the story telling, but when it comes down to it I think the insecurity that he has being part of this kind of society that doesn’t ever really accept him is then really used by Iago to draw him out of his safe zone.
I’ve always thought of the handkerchief as being a real symbol of who he is. It’s this ellaborate, exotic, foreign item that is valued for its exoticism and its beauty, and for how different it is. Everyone wants to get it copied. Everyone wants to have a piece of it.
Apparently at the time it was actually very gauche that – if you were within the same social class as someone – to ever show your wealth as being exceeding of theirs, so the only kind of way to make yourself better than your neighbour was to find exotic items and things from far away. It was to have these little secret closet collections.
I’ve often thought of Othello as, in a way, a rarity that’s been collected from a foreign land and brought to Venice and cherished because he’s different and odd. Therefore, his actual self, his sense of real self is muted by this idea of who he is; this exoticism. He even says the way he won over Desdemona was by telling these fantastical stories most of which we know are not true. I think he identifies with that idea of being a curiosity, and he thinks that that is his value.
So then when this handkerchief, which symbolizes the same kind of thing, is so easily dismissed or given away by her, it’s like she’s giving away his identity.
The handkerchief is a symbol of who Othello really is, according to the play’s director. Sean Arbuckle (Iago) – Photo by Andrée Lanthier; (courtesy the Segal Centre)
I feel like the play is really about sense of self and about the way that your identity can be stripped from you due to racism or whatever it may be. I think that’s what destabilizes him, not just the jealousy. Just becoming that jealous, it never really made sense to me, and it’s always a problem people have with the play. Why does he go so crazy so quickly? I feel it’s because Iago knows exactly the precision point how to attack him, and it’s with this sense of self. It’s also because Iago also his sense of self was undermined and taken away when his status as a warrior was taken from him by Othello.
Alison Darcy is the co-founder and co-artistic director of Scapegoat Carnivale Theatre. In addition to directing, producing and teaching theatre, she has been acting professionally since childhood.
Tickets can be purchased from the Segal Center box office, either by phone at 514-739-7944 or directly on the Segal Centre website site. Prices startfrom $24. The play runs until December 1st.
The Segal Center‘s production of Scapegoat Carnivale Theatre‘s Othello is a version of Shakespeare’s play in which the humours of the rain and sea seem to mirror the tempest at the heart of Othello.
Taking their cue from Othello’s accusation that Desdemona is “false as water,” Alison Darcy (director) and Joseph Shragge (dramaturgy) created a version of Othello which highlights the watery imagery which permeates Shakespeare text.
Andrew Moodie is Othello at the Segal Centre. Currently playing. Photo by Andrée Lanthier
As they describe, “water is present in the geography and language” throughout the play in the canals of Venice, the sea at Cyprus, the hypnotic currents of Othello’s storytelling and of course in Desdemona’s tears. This is foregrounded in this production in the ongoing sounds of waves and rainstorms and in the flickering blue light which submerges us in the same dramatic depths as the action taking place on stage.
The bare and unadorned dramatic space is used to great effect. The traditional Renaissance rapier-and-dagger sword fights were greatly appreciated by this Shakespeare and D&D nerd.
The staging of the final act of the play is particularly striking as a drape drops and hangs from the ceiling, serving triple duty as bed covering, curtain and murder weapon. A chilling portrayal of one of Western drama’s most famous homicides.
Despite this strong staging, the play does suffer from uneven acting at times.
As Othello, Andrew Moodie often lacked intensity and presence. In the first scene, when Othello is discovered by Brabantio and his men, Othello admonishes both his men and Brabantio’s to “Keep up [their] bright swords.” However, the delivery of the passage seemed flat, without conviction. While he did deliver some admirable performances at time – the seizure scene in act III springs to mind as particularly noteworthy – Moodie seemed to be searching for his character at various times throughout the play.
Moodie with Sean Arbuckle as Iago. Photo by Andrée Lanthier (courtesy the Segal Centre)
In contrast, Amanda Lisman quickly found her character and, particularly after the first act, delivered a strong performance as Desdemona. However, Julie Tamiko Manning, in the role of Emilia, was one of the stand-out roles of the evening.
Sean Arbuckle’s Iago was also excellent, switching seamlessly between counselling Roderigo to keep sending him money, implanting his poisonous suggestions into Othello’s psyche and playing at being just one of the boys with Cassio.
Maurice Podbrey offered a commanding performance as Brabantio in act I but Paul Hopkins’ Montano was, in my view, the weakest member of the company and made one thankful that he had only a minor part.
While the synergy between Iago and Othello seemed forced at times, the exchanges between Iago and Cassio, as well as those between Emilia and Desdemona, were not only inspired but made the Shakespearean verse seem as natural to the ear as everyday speech. Fortunately, Moodie and Lisman seemed well-matched as husband and wife and if this Othello failed to convince that he could command armies, he could at least persuade that he could charm Desdemona’s heart.
One of the most successful scenes of the production took place in act IV, scene 3 between Emilia and Desdemona. Emilia and Desdemona’s conversation about the infidelities of men, delivered so matter-of-factly by Julie Tamiko Manning and Amanda Lisman only a few moments before Othello arrives in the bedroom, perfectly captures and prepares the tragedy which is about the follow.
Despite its’ imperfections, this production of Othello remains a very successful staging of Shakespeare’s text and one definitely worth seeing.
Or why not offer the gift of jealousy and murder for the holidays this year?
Tickets can be purchased from the Segal Center box office, either by phone at 514-739-7944 or directly on the Segal Centre website site. Prices start from $24. The play runs until December 1st.
What did you think of act I? Kind of makes you want to have a good look at your own friends, doesn’t it?
Nonsense! You are rich in your friends, aren’t you? 😉
While the party’s in full swing within, a Senator arrives at Timon’s gate at the start of act II, scene 1. He’s disgusted that Timon should spend so much money on parties with his friends while he has outstanding debts to this senator. The Senator commands his servant Caphis to take debt bonds to Timon and not return until Timon pays up. The senator suspects that, when the money runs out, so will Timon’s friendships.
Flavius is just complaining about Timon’s careless spending when Caphis walking in to scene 2, speaking with Varro and Isidore’s servants. These men are also looking to collect on some outstanding debts. They intercept Timon as he returns from hunting. Timon tried to talk his way out of it but Caphis reminds him that his money was due six weeks ago and won’t take no for an answer. Flavius promises to deal with it for them right after supper and ushers Timon away.
The servants hang back to be made fun of by the Fool and Apemantus who, as Daniel points out, seem to be competing for the job of “guy who gets to say whatever he wants to Timon’s ‘friends’.”
After hearing about the current state of his finances, Timon tries to blame Favius for not mentioning any of this sooner. Flavius of course tell him that he tried to but that Timon wouldn’t hear it before. And now, even if Timon were to sell everything he has, that would only be enough to pay back about half the debt. While Falvius freaks out Timon calms him down and reminds him that as he has so many friends in good financial situations surely a few of them will be willing to help bail him out of this. But, turns out that Flavius has already approached some of these friends who gave him a bunch of excuses as to why they couldn’t help Timon. No big deal though: Timon’s buddy Ventidius – who he bailed out of jail in act 1 – just struck a rich inheritance so he’s sure that he’ll be more than happy to help out Timon.
Here are some of the characters introduced in this act:
Senator: This senator has lent money to Timon who does not appear to be in any hurry to pay him back. He comes armed with his legal documents to collect his debt.
Caphis: A servant to the Senator who comes knocking at Timon’s door to get the money he is owned.
Timon of Athens is a tragedy set in – you guessed it – Athens. Timon is a well-loved aristocrat who is extremely generous with his wealth. In other words, he’s a sucker surrounded by sycophants but he’s the only one who doesn’t see it.
First order of business, this is how you pronounce Timon’s name: /ˈtaɪmən/.
Seeing as that’s basically gibberish, here’s a clearer pronunciation guide: it’s Timon like Simon, not Timon like Timon and Pumba.
Moving on.
Only two scenes in this opening act but they cover a lot of ground. The play opens on a scene set inside one of the (probably richly appointed) halls of Timon’s house in Athens. A painter, poet, jeweller and merchant are discussing the fact that they each are hoping to win Timon as a patron, or to sell their products to him at an inflated price. We learn that this appears to be common practice and that Timon seems to operate under the motto of ‘no unreasonable offer refused.’
Eventually Timon arrives, followed by a messenger who tells him that his friend Ventidius is about to be carted off to debtor’s prison because he’s been unable to pay his debts. (Yes, unpaid invoices used to result in jail time, indentured service or flat-out slavery.) Of course, Timon cannot let his friend go to jail so he accepts to pay the debt on his behalf and asks the servant to bring him to dinner so he can eat the shirt of Timon’s back as well.
Hot on the heels of the this messenger comes an old Athenian gentleman who is upset because one of Timon’s poor servants wants to marry his daughter. No problem for Timon; he offers to match the dowry offered to allow Lucilius to marry her. No sooner has the old man walked off that the painter, poet, jeweller and merchant swoop in. However Apemantus, an ornery Athenian lord, calls them out for their self-interested flattery. Timon accuses Apemantus of being an arrogant and proud ass; Apemantus calls Timon out for being a sucker who spends his money buying false friends. (Apemantus is still going to eat Timon’s food though, and Timon isn’t going to kick Apemantus out for berating his guests.)
Scene II features the actual banquet itself. A bunch of lords and senators of Athens are in attendance, partying it up on Timon’s dime. Ventidius is there and thanks Timon for his hep in bailing him out of jail. In this short span, he has had a sudden and mysterious windfall: his father died and Ventidius inherited his fortune. He offers to pay Timon back twice the amount of his bail but Timon refuses to take his cash. In fact, he says, his bank account is always open for his friends.
More banter between Apemantus and Timon ensues and Timon threatens to banish Apemantus to the kiddy table. Timon then starts making speeches about how great his friends are and how he’s lucky to be able to take care of all of them. Some women dressed as Cupid and some Amazons then arrive to crash to party. After a dance, Timon feeds them too.
In the mood to hand out more gifts, Timon calls his servant Flavius to bring him a box of jewels. It would seem that Timon is in the habit of giving more than he can afford. Flavius tries to warn him that he’s broke even as he’s handing out jewels like they’re business cards. The party wraps up with everyone running off with their loot. Only Apemantus remains and he tries to get Timon to see that’s he’ being taken advantage of. Timon, of course, refuses to see it.
With that , here’s a short list of the major characters appearing in this act.
Poet, Painter, Jeweller and Merchant: Their titles pretty much sum it all up. These aren’t really fully fledged characters but are there to give Timon opportunities to give out more money than he can afford.
Timon: A naive and generous Athenian lord who’s not quite as wealthy as he thinks he is, in both his friends and his funds.
Apemantus: Honestly, Apemantus is a bit of a jerk. Is he right? Yes. Timon is being taken for a ride by all of his so-called friends. However, if your ‘friend’ was trying to point out your mistakes by being a sarcastic jerk, how likely would you be not to tell him to f-off? There’s a difference between flattery and tact, Ape-Mantis! (Sorry, I can’t help thinking ‘Godzilla vs Ape-Mantis’)
Alcibiades: He’s an Athenian general recently returned from battle. He’s actually one of Timon’s real friends.
Ventidius: This is the guy Timon bails out of jail. And who we now know is rich because his dad died and he inherited the fortune. Remember that because it might come back later.
Flavius: Timon’s servant and, it would appear, his chief bookkeeper. He’s the only guy who seems to know just how little money Timon actually has.
Surrounded by great friends, full of food and wine, where else could this play go but down, down, down! Should be entertaining.
Terry stopped by to give his interpretative reading of sonnet 38. Trust me, you want to stay for this one.
Stay tuned, Brawlers.
Join us by contributing to the Bard Brawl journal volume I at our Indiegogo page.
Not one of Shakespeare blockbusters, this play will keep you guessing with its string of improbable twists and turns. The verdict? More people should read it.
You can help popularize Pericles by dropping some of this bardic wisdom (which you’ll have fully memorized by then) the next time you’re at a party. Bonus points for you if you can flash mob one of these.
(We accept video submissions.)
“Of all say’d yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!”Act I, scene 1 Speakers: Antiochus’ daughter, Pericles, Antiochus
So. Pericles gets on a boat and travels to Antioch to try to score this world-renowned princess to be his wife. He’s already managed to impress the girl who is won over by his big bucks and his sexy looks. Like all good potential father-in-laws, Antioch decides he better test this guy to make sure he’s the real deal… by asking him to decipher a riddle.
Okay, no problem. Pericles is up for it. And then he discovers that this pervert is advertising his incestuous relationship with his daughter. Thing is, Antiochus is so used to being surrounded by ‘yes men’ that he’s not prepared for the fact that Pericles is ready to call him out on how disgusting this is. As for the girl? Looks can be deceiving.
“By Juno, that is queen of marriage”Act II, scene 3 Speakers: Thaisa, Simonides, Pericles
Freshly fished out of the sea with his rusted armour, Pericles is hard at work out-jousting the competition at Simonides’ “Marry my Daughter” Royal Rumble when he catches Thaisa’s eye. While she is busy imagining herself getting with that dreamy Pericles, he’s more interested in Thaisa’s dad. “Wow, that guy would totally be an awesome replacement for my dead dad.”
It’s a strange play.
“Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges”Act III, scene 1 Speakers: Pericles, Lychorida
Pericles is on his way home to Tyre with his wife when Thaisa goes into labour. Unfortunately, as she’s trying to give birth, a huge storm is raging around them. He is asking the gods to call off the storm. And when the midwife and nurse Lychorida arrives, he hopes that she can help speed things up. Instead, she hands him his daughter, Marina, introduced to her father for the first time as a piece of his dead wife.
“I hold it ever”Act III, scene 2 Speakers: Cerimon, Second Gentleman
Our play’s miracle worker affords himself a moment of moralistic speechifying before going to work bringing Thaisa back from the edge of death. Virtue and cunning > nobles and riches. What type of ‘virtue and cunning’? Alchemy. So you can learn the power over life and death, and use it only for good, right? Well, yes. That’s exactly what Cerimon does. He even takes Thaisa’ crown jewels… for safe keeping, of course.
“My commission”Act IV, scene 1 Speakers: Leonine, Marina
So pirates. Maybe we were a little excited about reading a Shakespearean play with pirates in it so we inflated their importance in our recollection of play. Still, the pirates here actually end up saving Marina’s life, in a very twisted sex-trade driven way. Dionyza ordered Leonine to kill her Marina and he decides that after they have scooped her up and ran off with her to their ship, he should follow along to make sure that they kill her after they have raped her. (I thought my job sucked.) Except, they didn’t rape her. They ‘only’ sold her into slavery where she transformed the lustful governor of Mytilene into a noble, Pericles-approved husband.
Artwork – Stephanie E.M. Coleman.
“Of Antiochus and his daughter you have heard”, Epilogue (Act V, scene 3) Speaker: Gower
Are you ready for the moral of the story? I mentioned in the show that I couldn’t think of too many of Shakespeare’s plays which ended with epilogues. Actually, that’s not really accurate. I can name several which do end with some form of epilogue: As You Like It, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
However, Shakespeare’s not generally so heavy-handed. In case we missed it (because being struck down by lightning or burned alive in your palace by a mob are very subtle forms of divine retribution), ‘Gower’ spells out who the heroes and villains are. Pericles, Helicanus and Cerimon: good; Antiochus, Cleon and Dionyza: bad.
Don’t sleep with your daughter and don’t kill your neighbour’s kid.
Geez, good thing you spelled it out for us, Shakey!
Welcome back to the Bard Brawl! I know you’ve missed us over the past few weeks but here at last – and just in time for the new school year – is act III of Pericles, Prince of Tyre!
At the end of act 2, we learn that Pericles is finally getting married and the lucky winner is Thaisa, the daughter of Simonides. Once they get hitched, it’s off to Tyre! Gower, as usual, brings us up to speed in his prologue.
(FYI, the Shakespeare edition which we use for the show is a little messed up for Pericles. In this case, the prologue for act III is about halfway down the page. It starts with: “Now sleep y-slaked hath the rout”. Act III, scene 1 then start right afterwards, on the same page.)
Of course, what happens on the return trip in act III, scene 1? Yup. Another storm at sea. To make matter worse, Thaisa goes into labour while the storm rages around the ship. The child, Marina is born but Thaisa is pronounced dead and is given a hasty burial at sea. Pericles orders the mariners to set sail for the nearby coast which – as it happens – is the coast of Tarsus.
In scene 2 the action shifts to the home of a Ephesian physician, Cerimon (Not to be confused with this guy). A few men have come to him after they found a sealed casket washed ashore. When they open it, they discover Thaisa and Cerimon realises that she’s not dead. With the help of some cutting edge medical procedures he revives her. It seems strange to me that given the opportunity to really set up a surprise later on, Shakespeare doesn’t even wait a few scenes before revealing to us that Thaisa is still alive. Not to mention that Gower is constantly telling us what’s about to happen in the next scene…
Anyhow.
Pericles has made it to Tarsus and after a brief stop to refit the ship, is ready to embark on the final leg of the journey which will take him home to Tyre. For some reason that’s not really clear to me, Pericles leaves his daughter Marina in the care of Clear and Dioniza who accept to raise her as their own until she is old enough to be married. It’s your standard kind of exchange: Pericles has provided Cleon with corn to feed his people, so the only fair thing is for Pericles to ask him to care for his daughter for 15 years.
We return to Thaisa and Cerimon in the last scene of the act. Cerimon has brought her up to speed on where she is. She seems to think that there is no way she will ever be reunited with Pericles so she decides that she going to do the only sensible thing she can and become a nun at Diana’s temple.
Here are some of the characters introduced in act III:
Cerimon: He’s a physician in Ephesus. He revives Thaisa. He’s kind of like Miracle Max in The Princess Bride. (I guess she was only mostly dead…)
Like the previous act, act II begins with a Prologue spoken by the Middle-English poet, John Gower. Gower first recaps the events of the previous act: Pericles has fled from Tyre in order to escape the wrath of Antiochus… who will all remember was a disgusting incestuous scum bag. He then makes it to Tarsus but it seems that city isn’t safe for him either and he is forced to take to sea. Gower seems to approve of Helicane’s interim rule of Tyre and his service to Pericles to whom he sends regular messengers advising him of the status of things back home. Like the fact that Thaliard wants to kill him.
As Gower tells us, Pericles’ ship gets destroyed and we find him washed ashore on act II, scene 1. A few fishermen have found him. He learns from them that he’s washed up in Pentapolis, and that Simonides – the king of this place – is an alight guy and a popular ruler. Not only that, be he’s got a hot daughter and he’s throwing a jousting tournament to decide which guy gets to marry her. If only Pericles hadn’t lost his knightly accoutrements in the shipwreck… What’s this? By an unbelievable coincidence, the fishermen catch Pericles’ ancestral armour in their fishing nets! Wow, imagine that! Looks a little rustier than before but he throws it on and heads for Simonides’ court.
The scene shifts to the tournament fields in scene 2. Simonides is with this daughter Thaisa and he has asked her to list off and describe the participants in the upcoming jousts. She lists out the first five entries and then ends with a description of Pericles in his rusty armour. One of Simonides’ lords makes a joke about Pericles`appearance but Simonides basically calls him out for being an idiot and judging by appearance rather than merit. Huh. Seems like a pretty smart thing to say.
So, guess who wins the tournament? Surprise, Pericles is the winner! In scene 3 Thaisa pretends not to care about Pericles (but she has already fallen for him, of course). Simonides asks her to find out who he is and Pericles tells them that’s he’s just a guy looking for adventure. There’s some dancing, then everyone turns in for the night.
In the next scene, back in Tyre, we learn from Helicane that Antiochus won’t be chasing after Pericles any more: he and his daughter were struck down by a lightning bolts from the gods. Yup, that right Escanes: “‘Twas very strange.” A few nobles come in and it seems that they’re not happy about their ruler being lost. They figure, he’s been gone long enough that Helicane should step in and take the throne. Helicane tells them that he will take up the mantle or rulership if Pericles can’t be found. They agree to search for him during that time.
Finally, back to Simonides’ court in scene 5. Simonides tells the gathered knights that his daughter has decided not to marry for the next 12 months and they leave. Seem that Simonides likes talking to himself and we ‘overhear’ how his daughter has chosen to marry Pericles. Simonides makes a show of accusing Pericles of having bewitched Thaisa. Of course, Pericles denies this and threatens to kill any man – except for the king, of course – who would dare accuse him of such an act. Pericles asks the king’s daughter to back his story but she basically says that she wants to be bewitched by Pericles. Her father pretends to be pissed but in the end arranges for them to be married as soon as possible.
Here are some of the characters introduced in act II:
Simonidies, King of Pentapolis: He’s the king of Pentapolis and is basically the opposite of Antiochus. He’s pretty much an all around nice guy even though he’s got a strange sense of humour.
Thaisa: She’s Simonides’ daughter and is determined to marry Pericles even against what she thinks is her father’s wishes.
What is going to happen next? Things are going to get a little weird.
Alison Darcy is the co-founder and co-artistic director of 
The Bard Brawl 