Posts Tagged ‘stranded’
Below is my Director’s interpretation of the first part of Twelfth Night, Act 1 Scene 2. For a marked-up/annotated script, see here.
Although the set for this scene at the SL Globe Theatre has Viola and the Captain at opposing pillars of the stage, I’m also considering trying another version–more in the Elizabethan theatre style of bare stage at the Blackfriars Theatre in Shakespeare, Second Life. While there’s a tempest separating Viola and the Captain in the design at the Globe, the one at the Blackfriars might have the Captain and Viola starting out closer together, as Viola wakes up from the shipwreck. But, in both cases, Viola starts the scene with honest confusion (though at the Globe, she might have to shout through the storm).
The scene opens with two six syllable lines, and is predominantly in verse. Viola is lost, and then slightly panicked as she asks, “And what should I do in Illyria?” She remembers what happened in the shipwrecking storm. Her lost voice becomes baleful; her brother may be lost.
Viola: And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown’d—What think you, sailor?…
Captain: True, madam, and to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you and those poor number sav’d with you
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast that liv’d upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,
I saw him hold acquaintance
The Captain comforts her–not only to make her feel better, but perhaps, to also assert to himself that the sea hadn’t claimed another casualty. She next gives him coin for his words–but she’s not the feedpost type, so she’s paying him both for the news that her brother has a greater chance of surviving, and also to gain his confidence. She admits that her own survival makes it seem likely her brother did survive, as well, and immediately progresses to practical matters, back to the question of place:
Viola: For saying so, there’s gold.
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know’st thou this country?
The Captain tells her he was born here. Not unlike royalty, who often ask to deal directly with rulers, Viola asks who rules here, he tells her Duke Orsino rules here. Viola immediately answers:
Viola: Orsino? I have heard my father name him…
He was a bachelor then.
Audible beat before she mentions the status of his marriage–almost as if she takes a moment to consider him as a suitor her father would approve of (she’s of marriage age). The Captain addresses her unanswered question by citing competition:
Captain: And so is now, or was so very late,
For but a month ago I went from hence,
And then ’twas fresh in murmur - as you know,
What great ones do, the less will prattle of -
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
Viola then asks not “Who’s she”, but, “What’s she,” almost with a note of contempt. The Captain continues in pentameter:
Captain: A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died, for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjur’d the company
And sight of men.
Viola finds herself relating to Olivia. And, as often is the case, when one discovers close traits to someone whom one did not like at first, the fondness that grows is greater. In addition to the common loss of a brother, both women have the problem of marriage to deal with. Olivia chose seclusion. Viola hopes, too, to hide from the world in serving the Lady Olivia until she’d gained her state in this new land.
The Captain then tells Viola that Olivia really won’t see anyone, not even the Duke’s nuncio. Viola then immediately states she wants to work at Orsino’s, but as a boy! Despite this sudden decision, from wishing to work at Olivia’s just seconds before to the Duke’s, Viola begins her request diplomatically, and justifies how she’d qualify for the role:
Viola: There is fair behavior in thee, Captain,
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee - and I’ll pay thee bounteously -
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I’ll serve the duke:
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.
It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit -
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
The Captain’s reply is nearly alarming. He perhaps already sees the complications that might evolve, and Viola’s tender reasons for this choice. But, going incognito as a boy may be, perhaps, Viola’s best chance. It would ultimately be the Captain’s choice, and Viola ends the scene deferring to him.
Captain: Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.Viola: I thank thee. Lead me on.
(I think one of the most interesting holistic aspect of this scene is Viola’s nearly fickle nature–which, now, at least, echoes that of Olivia’s. She quickly goes from noting the likely death of her brother to lightly pondering marriage. She goes from wishing to work at Olivia’s to the Duke’s–and concealed as a boy. Of course, it’s practical for her to figure out her way in this new land, and there’s no use in wasting time mourning. Perhaps her quick changes in Scene 2 are due to how she’s really still pondering about her brother, as she tries to figure out what do in this scene.)