A Stage Full of Shakespeare Stories

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A Stage Full of Shakespeare Stories Page 6

by Angela McAllister


  “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players.”

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Rosalind

  A noblewoman, Duke Senior’s daughter

  Celia

  Duke Frederick’s daughter; Rosalind’s cousin

  Oliver

  First son of Sir Rowland de Bois; Orlando’s brother

  Orlando

  Second son of Sir Rowland de Bois; Oliver’s brother

  Charles

  Duke Frederick’s prize fighter

  Duke Senior

  Duke Frederick’s brother, banished to the Forest of Arden

  AS YOU LIKE IT

  When Sir Rowland de Bois died, his eldest son Oliver inherited all his wealth. Oliver had promised Sir Rowland that he’d take good care of his younger brother, Orlando, but it was a promise that he didn’t keep for long. Jealous of Orlando’s good looks and confident nature, Oliver made his brother eat with the servants, refused to let him go to school and let him have very little money.

  One day, Orlando decided to disguise his noble birth and take part in a wrestling match which offered valuable prize money. The champion was Duke Frederick’s prize fighter, Charles. Orlando was about to enter the ring when two young ladies pushed through the crowd. One of them was Celia, Duke Frederick’s daughter and the other was her cousin, Rosalind.

  “Sir,” said Celia, “please change your mind, there is little chance of winning. Three opponents have already been carried off with broken ribs today!”

  “Yes, save yourself,” pleaded Rosalind, who couldn’t help but stare at Orlando’s handsome face.

  Orlando was touched by their concern and thanked them but he wouldn’t change his mind. “Your kind wishes will strengthen me in the fight,” he assured them, “for there is nobody else in the world who cares if I live or die.”

  His brave, sad words stirred Rosalind’s heart. “Then I give you what little strength I have myself,” she said earnestly. And the girls took their places to watch the match.

  The fight began. Charles was as strong as an ox but Orlando was nimble and quick. He ducked and dived, outwitting the older man until he saw his chance, gripped Charles and threw him to the ground with a thud. The champion was beaten. The crowd cheered but Orlando only had eyes for Rosalind.

  Duke Frederick presented Orlando with his prize money. “You are a brave youth,” he said.

  “Who is your father?”

  “My father is dead,” replied Orlando. “I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois.”

  The Duke’s smile vanished. “Then you are the son of my enemy,” he said bitterly. Without another word, he and his attendants left.

  On an impulse Rosalind undid the chain around her neck and gave it to Orlando.

  “You’ve won over more than your enemy today, Sir,” she said boldly. “Please, wear this and remember me.”

  As she walked away, Orlando asked a courtier who she was.

  “That’s Rosalind,” said the courtier. “Her father, Duke Senior, is Duke Frederick’s brother. Long ago, Duke Frederick banished him to the forest but Rosalind was allowed to remain as a companion for Duke Frederick’s daughter, Celia. The girls have grown up as sisters but recently the Duke has noticed that Rosalind gets more attention than Celia. Duke Frederick is a wicked man, Sir. I fear it won’t be long before he finds an excuse to banish Rosalind, just like her father.”

  “Oh, heavenly Rosalind!” sighed Orlando. “Life has also been unfair to her. I know we are meant for each other.” He kissed the chain she’d given him and hung it next to his heart. With a nod of thanks to the courtier he walked away, smiling happily.

  That afternoon, Rosalind talked so much about brave, handsome Orlando that Celia couldn’t resist teasing her. But their high spirits were interrupted when the Duke suddenly burst into their room. To Rosalind’s horror he accused her of being disloyal and plotting with Orlando against him. “I saw you together at the wrestling match,” he said with contempt. “Your fathers were friends and both my enemies.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” protested Rosalind but the Duke refused to listen.

  “You are a traitor, just like your father,” he told her. “I have raised you as my own child but I can no longer trust you. I banish you from court.”

  “Rosalind’s as innocent as I am,” Celia cried. “If you send her away then I’ll go too!” However, the Duke’s mind was made up and nothing would change it. “You must be gone tomorrow,” he insisted and he stormed out of the room.

  “What shall we do?” cried Rosalind.

  “Let’s go to the Forest of Arden and search for your father,” suggested Celia.

  Rosalind hugged her cousin. “Thank you, loyal friend,” she said, “that’s a perfect plan.”

  Early next morning, the girls disguised themselves. Celia dressed as a shepherdess and Rosalind tucked her long hair into a hat and dressed herself as a man. “I shall wear a sword to frighten away any trouble!” she said. Then Celia gathered her money and jewels and they set off for the forest, full of thoughts of adventure.

  Duke Frederick was furious when he learnt that Celia had left with Rosalind. He sent for her maid, who’d heard the girls talk about Orlando the day before. “So I was right!” said the Duke. He summoned Orlando’s brother, Oliver.

  “Bring me Orlando, dead or alive,” the Duke demanded. “If you fail, I shall confiscate everything you own.”

  Oliver didn’t need any persuading. “Here’s an opportunity to get rid of Orlando and keep all Father’s wealth for myself,” he thought, so he agreed to do as the Duke asked.

  Meanwhile, Celia and Rosalind arrived at the forest, where they soon found a little cottage for sale and set up a new home together. They were unaware that Orlando had also come to the forest. He wandered among the leafy glades until, tired and hungry, he came to the camp where Duke Senior and his men were living.

  Duke Senior recognised Orlando at once as the son of his old friend and welcomed him into their forest home. “It’s a care-free life here under the greenwood trees,” he told Orlando with a beaming smile. “You must join us. Nature gives us all we need!”

  Orlando soon settled into his new life but although he had a soft mossy bed and good company he was not content. All day long he yearned for Rosalind. As he was unable to tell her of his feelings, Orlando wrote love poems to her and pinned them on the trees.

  One morning, when Rosalind and Celia were out picking berries they found one of the poems, full of romantic declarations of love. “Who could this secret writer be?” wondered Rosalind. Just then, they heard somebody talking nearby. To their surprise they saw Orlando sitting with a quill pen and a bottle of ink, murmuring rhymes to himself. Rosalind was filled with joy. “Let’s see if Orlando really does love me,” she whispered to Celia with a wink. Hoping that he wouldn’t see through her disguise she boldly strolled over to him.

  “Sir,” she said, “do you know who is littering the forest with all this romantic nonsense?”

  Orlando jumped to his feet. “Those are my poems,” he said, looking offended. “And it’s not nonsense, I’m in love with a wonderful girl.”

  Rosalind eyed him up and down. “Hmmm. You don’t look like somebody in love to me,” she scoffed. “If you were in love you’d look wretched and miserable. Love is nothing more than a disease. Why, I cured a man of it once.”

  Orlando was curious. “How did you do that?” he asked.

  “By giving him a good dose of it,” said Rosalind. “You see, I told him to imagine that I was his love. First I encouraged him, then I rejected him. One moment I was gentle, then cruel, adoring, suspicious, full of smiles, then floods of tears. It wasn’t long before he’d had enough of love’s madness and was completely cured!”

  Orlando laughed. “Well, you could never cure me,” he said.

  “Let me try,” replied Rosalind mischievously. “I live in a cottage along the path with my sister. If you visit me and pretend that I’m you
r Rosalind I promise I’ll cure you of love forever!”

  “All right,” said Orlando, amused to take up the challenge. “You’ll soon see how strong my love is, young fellow.”

  Next day, Rosalind waited eagerly for Orlando but he didn’t arrive. At last, an hour late, he appeared.

  She greeted him with a scolding. “This is no way to treat the girl you love!” she said crossly.

  “Forgive me, dearest Rosalind,” said Orlando, playing his part.

  “Well, you can make it up to me by telling me how much you care,” said Rosalind playfully and she made a place for him to sit beside her. “Talk to me in words of love.”

  Orlando gazed deep into her eyes. He praised her with adoring words and poured out his heart. “I vow to love you for ever and a day,” he said solemnly, taking her hand. “Will my Rosalind do the same?”

  At the touch of his hand, Rosalind melted. She felt as if Orlando was looking straight into her heart. “Your Rosalind will do the same as I do,” she answered.

  For a moment it seemed as if time stood still. Neither of them moved or spoke. Then, breaking the spell, Orlando jumped to his feet and reached for his hat. “I must leave you now for a while,” he said as it was time to eat at the camp, “but I promise to return at two o’clock.”

  As soon as Orlando had gone, Rosalind ran into the kitchen and flung her arms around Celia. “Oh cousin, if only you knew how much I love him!” she cried. “Every minute will be an hour until he returns.”

  However, when two o’clock came there was no sign of Orlando. Three o’clock went by and still he didn’t appear. Rosalind paced up and down sighing so much that Celia took her out for a walk.

  They hadn’t gone far when Orlando’s brother Oliver came along the path, clutching a blood-stained handkerchief.

  “I’m looking for the young man who answers to the name of Rosalind,” he said. “I bring a message from my brother, Orlando.”

  “This is Rosalind,” said Celia, taking an instant fancy to the tall, dashing stranger.

  “What’s your message?” asked Rosalind. “Where is Orlando?”

  Oliver told them that he’d been searching for Orlando in the forest for several days. “A few hours ago, while I was resting, a lioness appeared and was about to pounce on me when Orlando walked by. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve been a bad brother to him since our father died and have treated him unkindly, but without thinking of this or his own safety, Orlando fought off the lioness and saved my life. To my joy, we are now happily reconciled.”

  “Then whose blood is on the handkerchief?” asked Celia.

  “Orlando was wounded,” said Oliver. “He asked me to bring this handkerchief to prove why he wasn’t able to keep his promise to return.”

  At the thought of Orlando’s wounds Rosalind suddenly felt faint. Oliver offered to accompany them home and Celia eagerly agreed.

  While Rosalind rested, Celia and Oliver enjoyed each other’s company. By the end of the afternoon, as if the forest had cast a spell upon them both, they had fallen deeply in love.

  When Rosalind awoke she was amazed to hear that Celia and Oliver had decided to marry.

  “Be happy for us, cousin,” said Celia.

  Rosalind saw their joy and was delighted. Oliver explained that they wished to wed the very next day at Duke Senior’s camp, where he had taken Orlando.

  “Then tell your brother that I won’t try and cure him any longer,” said Rosalind. “I’ll bring his love to him and there shall be two weddings in the forest tomorrow!”

  Next morning, when Celia and Rosalind walked into Duke Senior’s camp dressed in their own clothes there was great surprise and celebration. Oliver marvelled at the transformation of his shepherdess and Orlando felt his heart would burst with laughter when he heard of Rosalind’s deception.

  Duke Senior welcomed his long-lost daughter and his niece with great rejoicing. “I am overwhelmed with happiness!” he exclaimed.

  However, their reunion was interrupted by a messenger who arrived with unexpected news. “Two days ago, Duke Frederick gathered an army to hunt down his enemies” he told Duke Senior. “But as he entered the forest he met a priest who made him see the wickedness of his ways. Now your brother has decided to join a monastery and leave all his land and wealth to you.”

  Everyone cheered. “Well, that’s good news indeed,” said Duke Senior. “But it matters not today. For all the wealth in the world cannot better this wonderful wedding celebration, here among the greenwood trees, the wild roses and the sweet songbirds of the forest.”

  “Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Julius Caesar

  A Roman general and senator

  Casca

  Fellow conspirator against Caesar

  Marc Antony

  Friend of Caesar

  Brutus

  A supporter of the Republic

  Cassius

  A Roman general, lead conspirator against Caesar

  Octavius

  Caesar’s nephew and heir

  Trebonius

  Fellow conspirator against Caesar

  JULIUS CAESAR

  “Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”

  The people of Rome were gathered in the streets to honour their great general, Julius Caesar, who had returned from leading his army to victory. The excited crowd cheered as he rode proudly through the city, followed by a procession of noble senators.

  Suddenly an old man stepped forward and waved his arms to halt the procession. Everyone fell silent and stared.

  The old man pointed at Caesar with an expression full of doom. “Beware the Ides of March!” he cried.

  “What are the Ides of March?” whispered a boy in the crowd.

  “The fifteenth day of the month, which is tomorrow,” his father replied. “That man is a soothsayer who foretells the future.”

  Caesar’s stony face didn’t flinch. He wasn’t going to let an old man’s warning spoil his triumphant day. “Pass on,” he commanded and the soothsayer was pushed aside.

  Watching nearby were two senators, Brutus and Cassius, who had been friends since childhood. “Listen to the crowd,” said Brutus as people cheered once more. “They treat Caesar as if he were their king.”

  “It’s outrageous that Caesar behaves so grandly,” Cassius exclaimed. “He acts as if he’s above us all but he’s not a god. He’s just a man like you and me.”

  Brutus nodded. “Caesar is my friend but success has made him too ambitious. For hundreds of years Rome has been a republic, governed by its free people. If we let one man become king to rule us again then Roman citizens will be no better than slaves.”

  Cassius looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody else could hear. “Then something must be done to stop Caesar,” he said.

  “Something must be done to protect our freedom,” Brutus agreed with a troubled frown.

  That night, there was a violent storm. People were afraid it was an omen of something bad to come. The city was deserted as Cassius’s servant hurried through the dark, rainy streets carrying letters for Brutus. The letters appeared to be from worried citizens urging Brutus to save them from Caesar’s rule but they were really written by Cassius, who hoped to turn Brutus against Caesar.

  As Brutus brooded over the letters, meteors streaked across the sky, filling the night with such light that he could read without a candle. Brutus struggled to decide what to do. The only way to get rid of Caesar was to murder him but Brutus had no wish to kill his friend. Yet he was afraid that if Caesar was crowned King it would be a disaster for Rome. “Caesar is like a serpent’s egg,” he thought. “If left to hatch and grow he’ll become a dangerous creature. Surely it’s wise to save Rome by killing the serpent while it’s in its shell?”

  When the storm had passed, Brutus took a walk in his orchard. There he met Cassius, who’d come to see him with his
fellow conspirators, Trebonius, Casca and others.

  “Casca brings news that Caesar will be crowned King by the senators tomorrow,” said Cassius. “It’s time to act, Brutus. These men are prepared to kill Caesar. Are you with us?”

  “Caesar to rule Rome as King!” Brutus exclaimed. He knew then that he had to do something. With a heavy heart he agreed to join the others. “Long ago, my ancestors drove the last treacherous king from this land,” he said. “I promise Rome that I will protect it now.”

  The following day was the Ides of March. Caesar and Mark Antony, his closest friend and trusted general, travelled to the Temple where he was to be crowned. When they arrived, Trebonius drew Mark Antony away, while Cassius, Brutus and the others crowded around Caesar as if wishing to talk with him.

  “Today our hands speak for us!” Casca cried and at these words the conspirators pulled out their daggers and stabbed Caesar many times. Last to strike was Brutus.

  Caesar fell to the ground, his life ebbing away. He stared up at his friend. “Even you, Brutus?” he gasped weakly and with that he died.

  At once a shout went up. “Caesar is dead!”

  The other senators drew back in horror. “Don’t be afraid,” said Brutus. “Caesar’s death was a sacrifice to save Rome. We acted out of love for our republic.”

  At that moment Mark Antony appeared. He stared in horror at Caesar, lying at the foot of the temple steps, and then at the bloodstained senators. “If you wish to kill me too then do it,” he cried, baring his chest. “There is no better place to die than here at Caesar’s side!”

 

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