Only Benedick stayed behind. “Is Hero dead?” he asked.
“No,” said the Friar but it gave him an idea. “Maybe it would help if we pretend that Hero is dead for a while,” he suggested. “I’m sure in grief, Claudio would regret his accusations and remember his love. It would give us time to find out where this false rumour began.”
Everyone agreed to the Friar’s plan. As Leonato took Hero home, Benedick waited behind to tell Beatrice of his love.
“Here’s a strange thing my Lady,” he said. “Against my will, I find that I love nothing in the world so much as you.”
Beatrice pretended to be surprised. “Well, it’s as strange as this,” she replied, “that I love you, Sir, with so much of my heart there is none left to protest!”
Benedick took her hand in his. “Then I will live in your heart, Beatrice, and be buried in your eyes,” he said happily.
Back at the house, the local constable arrived with news that Borachio had been arrested after drunkenly bragging about his deception. “So, Claudio was tricked,” said Leonato thoughtfully.
When Claudio heard that Hero was dead and that he had been deceived by Don John he was full of deep remorse. “My mistrust killed Hero,” he told Leonato miserably. “You must choose what punishment you like.”
Leonato listened with a grave expression. “My brother has an unmarried daughter who looks very like Hero,” he told Claudio. “If you marry this lady, then I will forgive you.” Claudio agreed.
The next day, Claudio and Don Pedro returned to the chapel in a sombre mood. Leonato brought in the bride, wearing a veil over her face.
“Will you take this woman to be your wife?” asked the Friar.
“Yes,” said Claudio, as he’d promised.
His new wife lifted her veil and Hero gazed back at him.
Claudio gasped in amazement. “My Hero, come back from the dead!”
“She was only dead while suspicion lived,” said Leonato and he embraced them both.
Benedick stepped forward. “Will you marry me, Beatrice?” he asked.
“Only to save your life,” she replied, “as I’m told you will die otherwise.”
“So, I shall marry you,” he said, “but only out of pity, you understand,” and he gave her a kiss.
Then everyone laughed to see that Beatrice and Benedick had not lost their wit in love.
All that day, wedding celebrations filled the air with music and laughter. As the guests danced among the meadows and vineyards, Don John slipped away. The party continued on late into the night, for no one knew how to make merry better than the friends and family of Leonato.
“As flies to wanton boys are we to th’ gods: They kill us for their sport.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
King Lear
Ruler of Britain
Gonerill
King Lear’s eldest daughter
Regan
King Lear’s middle daughter
Cordelia
King Lear’s youngest daughter
Earl of Gloucester
A nobleman loyal to King Lear
Edgar
The Earl of Gloucester’s first-born son and heir
KING LEAR
King Lear had grown old and frail. He sent for his three daughters.
“I have ruled Britain for many years,” he told them, “now I wish for a life without royal duties. I’ve decided to divide my kingdom between you. The largest share will be given to the daughter who loves me most.”
Lear’s eldest daughter, Gonerill, was eager to have the largest share of the kingdom. “I love you more than sight, sound and even breath,” she told the King.
Her sister, Regan, also wanted the largest part. “I love you as much as Gonerill does and more!” she insisted. “The only thing that makes me happy is your love.”
The King nodded with satisfaction. Then he turned to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, who was his favourite. Cordelia was the kindest of his three daughters and the King hoped that she would look after him in his old age. “What can you say to win more of my kingdom than Gonerill and Regan?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” replied Cordelia.
The King was taken aback. “Nothing?” he cried. “Nothing will win you nothing!”
However, Cordelia was more honest than her sisters. “I love you as much as a daughter should love her father,” she said truthfully. “Gonerill and Regan claim that all their love is for you, yet they are both married. When I marry, half my love will be for my husband.”
At these words King Lear flew into a rage. “If that is the truth, then the truth is all you shall have, Cordelia!” he cried angrily. “As you refuse to please me you are no longer my daughter.”
Despite the protests of his close advisors, Lear banished Cordelia from his sight forever, without a penny to her name.
Cordelia left, deeply sad and shocked at her father’s cruel punishment.
Then Lear divided his kingdom between Gonerill and Regan. “For myself, I shall only keep a hundred knights,” he told them, “and I will live with each of you in turn, a month at a time.”
King Lear’s angry outburst was witnessed by his old friend, the Earl of Gloucester, who returned to his castle troubled by what he had seen. As Gloucester entered the great hall he saw his youngest son, Edmund, conceal a letter behind his back.
“What are you hiding from me?” he asked.
“Nothing, Father,” said Edmund innocently. “It’s just a letter from my brother, Edgar.” But Edmund’s reluctance to share the letter made Gloucester suspicious and he demanded to see it.
As Gloucester read, he stared in disbelief. “It says here that Edgar is impatient to inherit my fortune, so he plots to murder me and asks for your help! Can such treachery really be true?” he asked Edmund.
“I’m sure Edgar is only trying to test my loyalty, Father,” Edmund replied. But Gloucester was so outraged that he went to order his men to arrest Edgar at once.
When he’d gone, Edmund smiled wickedly, for the letter was a fake that he’d written to trick his father. “Why should I be deprived of an inheritance just because I’m the youngest son?” he thought jealously. “I am as worthy as my brother.” Driven by a ruthless ambition, Edmund intended to destroy Edgar and his father so that he could have the family fortune for himself.
When Edgar learned that his father had turned against him he fled from the castle. To avoid capture he exchanged his fine clothes for rags and roamed the wild countryside, disguised as a beggar called Tom.
Meanwhile, King Lear and his men went to live with Gonerill. However, it wasn’t long before she began to complain about the hundred knights she was expected to provide for.
“Your men are a disorderly rabble,” she told him sternly. “They constantly quarrel and cause a riot. I’ve ordered half of them to be dismissed.”
The King was cross at being overruled by his daughter and treated with no respect. “Your ungrateful heart is as cold as marble, Gonerill,” he said bitterly. “At least I have one more daughter who will offer me comfort.” So he left with his remaining knights to visit Regan.
However, Gonerill sent a messenger to warn Regan that the King and his men were coming. By the time they arrived at her palace, Regan was gone.
King Lear and his knights travelled instead to the Earl of Gloucester’s castle where, to his surprise, he found Regan had been welcomed as a guest.
The King complained to her about Gonerill. “Your sister dismissed half my knights,” he protested. “Her sharp-toothed unkindness sits on my heart like a vulture.”
But Regan showed her father no sympathy. “I’m sure Gonerill had good reason,” she said coldly. “You are an old man and need the wisdom of somebody who knows better. Return to Gonerill and ask for her forgiveness.”
“Never!” cried the King. “I would rather live in the wilderness with a wolf!”
“Well, you can’t bring fifty knights to stay with me,” Regan told him. “I don’t
see why you need an army at all. Get rid of it, my own men will attend you.”
The King exploded with frustration. “I gave you everything,” he roared. “How can you deny me what I have left? You are as wicked as your sister. Your love is a lie.” He called on the gods for revenge.
As if in answer, thunder shook the castle and lightning flashed across the sky. “I think I shall go mad!” cried Lear, enraged, and he ran out into the storm.
Gloucester started to go after his frail old friend but Regan stood in his way.
“Let him go,” she insisted. “He has brought this on himself.”
Gloucester was horrified at her cruelty but he had to obey.
All night, Lear stumbled through the cold wind and lashing rain. Tormented by the treachery of his eldest daughters and the loss of Cordelia, he began to lose his mind. In distress he tore at his hair, crying out to the storm to destroy the world.
“Rumble your bellyful!” he commanded the thunder. “Spout, rain! Spit, fire!” he roared at the sky.
At last, utterly exhausted, Lear came to a lonely barn. Inside, crouched among the hay, he found Edgar, disguised as a beggar, sheltering from the storm.
Lear was stirred by the sight of the beggar, alone in the world like himself. No longer filled with anger, he was overcome with pity. “I have taken too little care of the homeless and poor in my life,” he thought sorrowfully. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Poor Tom’s a-cold,” Edgar whimpered. “Poor Tom’s a-cold.”
King Lear sat down in the hay beside Edgar, his body weak and his mind troubled. “I see now that man is really no more than a poor, bare, two-legged animal,” he thought to himself. “This is what it truly means to have nothing.”
As dawn rose, the storm subsided. Out of the morning mist, Gloucester approached the barn. He had defied Regan and come looking for his old friend. Gloucester didn’t recognise his son in beggars’ rags but he was saddened to find the King, lying helpless and confused. Gloucester’s men carried Lear into a carriage. “I’ve received a letter from Cordelia,” Gloucester told him. “She married the King of France and has arrived in Dover with a French army to win back the kingdom from her sisters.” Then he told his men to take Lear in haste to Dover.
“The King will be safe now,” Gloucester told Edgar, “but I am sad to see his madness. I tell you, friend, that I am almost mad with grief myself, for I have lost a son, who I loved with all my heart.”
Edgar saw the deep sorrow in his father’s eyes, but he was not ready to reveal his true identity. All he replied was “Poor Tom’s a-cold.”
Gloucester returned to his castle. To his surprise, he was met by Gonerill and Regan who had him arrested at once. Edmund had betrayed his father by showing them Cordelia’s letter from Dover. The two sisters ordered Gloucester to be blinded as punishment for his treachery.
Sightless, Gloucester called out for help. “Where is my son, Edmund?”
Regan laughed cruelly. “Don’t bother calling for him,” she said. “Edmund hates you. He was the one who betrayed you!” Then blind Gloucester saw the truth; Edgar was innocent and he had allowed himself to be wickedly deceived.
Gloucester’s old servant took pity on him and gently led him away. “I’ll find someone to be your eyes, my lord,” he said and he took him to Tom the beggar.
Edgar was horrified when his father appeared before him, blind and helpless. But Gloucester didn’t want any pity.
“I no longer need sight,” he sighed. “When I had my eyes I didn’t see the truth. If only I could touch the son I treated so wrongly, then that would be far better to me than sight.” He asked the beggar if he would lead him to Dover, to be with the King.
With a heavy heart, Edgar took his father’s hand and they set off together.
Meanwhile, at Dover, Lear was reunited with Cordelia. Although suffering and loss had weakened his mind, it had also taught him wisdom. He fell to his knees before his daughter. “I am a foolish old man,” he said humbly. “I know you have good reason not to love me, Cordelia, but can you forgive and forget?”
Cordelia wept to see her father so changed. She knelt beside him and kissed his hand. “I love you as a daughter should love her father,” she assured him. “I will look after you.” Cordelia found lodgings for him and prepared her army for battle against her sisters.
Gonerill and Regan joined their forces with Edmund’s men for the fight. On the day of the battle, they had the greater strength and Cordelia’s French army was defeated. Lear and Cordelia were captured.
“Don’t weep,” Lear told his daughter as they were led to prison. “We shall be happy together without any cares, singing like two birds in a cage.”
But Edmund had a different fate in mind for them both. More ambitious than ever, he planned to seize power from Gonerill and Regan and didn’t want any trouble from Lear and Cordelia. He sent a messenger to the gaoler, with instructions that both the prisoners should be murdered.
However, just as the messenger hurried away, Edgar appeared in full armour, his helmet hiding his face. He stepped forward to challenge Edmund.
“You have betrayed your brother and your father,” Edgar cried. “You are a traitor, from the crown of your head to the dust beneath your feet!”
At once Edmund took up his sword and lunged at the stranger, but Edgar was more skilful in combat. He delivered Edmund a fatal wound.
“If I must die by your sword, then at least tell me your name,” gasped Edmund.
Edgar lifted his visor. “I am the son of Gloucester,” he said, “the father who was blinded for your treachery and died today of a broken heart.”
Edmund sighed deeply. “So, it has all come to nothing,” he said, realising the tragic consequence of his jealous greed for power. “Hurry to the gaol brother. I sent an order that Lear and Cordelia should be killed today. Save them if you can! With my last breath I may do some good.”
But Edmund’s change of heart was too late. Although a messenger hurried to the prison he wasn’t in time to save Cordelia. King Lear returned, ashen-faced, carrying her lifeless body.
“A plague upon you, murderers and traitors!” he said, weeping. “My poor Cordelia will never live again.” For a moment the old King bent close as if he heard her softly speak, then overcome with grief, he collapsed to the ground and died, with his beloved, faithful daughter in his arms.
“…let the forfeit Be nominated for an equal pound Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken In what part of your body pleaseth me.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Bassanio
A young gentleman and friend of Antonio
Antonio
A merchant of Venice
Portia
A wealthy noblewoman from Belmont
Shylock
A moneylender of Venice
Nerissa
Portia’s maid
Gratiano
Bassanio’s friend
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Sunlight sparkled on the canals of Venice as a young gentleman called Bassanio walked with his friend, the merchant Antonio.
Bassanio had a secret to share. “I’ve fallen in love, with a wonderful lady called Portia,” he told Antonio. “She’s clever and beautiful and I’m sure she likes me.”
“Then why do you look so troubled?” asked Antonio.
Bassanio sighed. “Portia’s father recently died and left her a fortune,” he said. “Now Princes travel from far and wide to her palace in Belmont, hoping to marry her.”
“Well, my friend, you know I’ll do anything to help you,” said Antonio.
“Money is what I need,” explained Bassanio. “If I could buy fine clothes and gifts for Portia, then maybe I’d have a chance against my rivals.”
Antonio nodded thoughtfully. “I have no money until my ships sell their goods and return to Venice,” he said. “But people know I’m trustworthy. Find someone who will lend you the money you need and I’ll promise to pay it back whe
n my ships come home.”
Bassanio’s face lit up. He thanked Antonio. “When I’m married to Portia all my debts will be paid!” he said happily and with hope in his heart he went off to find someone who would give him a loan.
At the market place he met Shylock, the moneylender. Shylock was reluctant to help Bassanio at first, but when he heard that the money would be repaid by Antonio, he became very interested.
“This may be a way to get my revenge on Antonio,” Shylock thought to himself. “How I loathe him. He steals my business by lending money without a charge and speaks ill of me to the other merchants.” But Shylock showed none of his hatred to Bassanio.
“Let us discuss what you need,” he said.
At that moment, Antonio himself appeared. He was dismayed to find Bassanio talking business with the moneylender whose greed he despised.
“Well, Shylock,” said Antonio briskly, “will you lend three thousand ducats to my friend here?”
Shylock stroked his long beard. “Signor Antonio,” he said, “many times you have called me a cut-throat dog.”
“No doubt I’ll call you the same again,” said Antonio. “But this is business. If I fail to repay the loan think how much you’ll enjoy demanding a penalty from your enemy.”
“I only wish to have your love and goodwill,” said Shylock slyly. “To show my friendship I will lend you the money without charge.”
Bassanio sighed with relief.
“But if the loan is not paid back exactly three months from now,” continued Shylock, “you must pay a penalty – a pound of your flesh, Antonio, cut from a place nearest your heart.”
A Stage Full of Shakespeare Stories Page 8