Clues to Acting Shakespeare (3rd ed) Page 6

  Now, read the line and play the condition of that quality called mercy—in other words, play the final three words of the line. Do this aloud. Voilà! Now the line is about something specific, namely that we don’t achieve the quality called mercy by straining at it. And that is the thought in the line. If you don’t play the entire line, you leave out the thought.

  If your Portia allows me, the listener, to hear only “the quality of mercy (something),” I may continue listening, probably passively, but I’m not encouraged and challenged to do so. And what your character is saying seems loosely defined, not specific. On the other hand, if your Portia tells me that this “thing called mercy isn’t obtained by straining,” my mind jumps to the possibilities of that idea, and I want to hear what else you have to say—I want to hear the reasoning that supports your statement. Now, you’ve got me hooked actively, not passively. I want to hear the next line.

  Here’s the opening line to the same play:

  Antonio: In sooth I know not why I am so sad. (I, i)

  Say the line aloud and allow “so sad” to fall away. What’s the line about? It seems to be about something called “sooth” and “why” of something, or “not why” about whatever. Now, say the line aloud and play “so sad.” What’s the line about? (Caesura? Try it after “sooth” or “why.”)

  Here’s a famous line:

  Hamlet: To be, or not to be—that is the question: (III, i)

  Do the same exercise, first allowing “the question” to fall away. Define what the line is about. Then play “the question” and define what the line is about.

  (Punctuation breaks up the phrases, so no caesura is needed.)

  Together with supporting the final word of each line, you must also think about supporting the entire final phrase of each line. Here is the beginning of Sonnet 92:

  But do thy worst to steal thyself away,

  For term of life thou art assured mine;

  Do the same exercise, speaking the two lines aloud and allowing “to steal thyself away” and “thou art assured mine” to fade out. (Be sure to make three syllables of “as-sur-`ed.”)

  Now, play the ending phrases and don’t forget to kick the box on the final word of each line. (Don’t forget to use the caesura—probably after “worst” and “life.”) What are the lines about? Now we’re dealing with someone wanting out (perhaps of a relationship) and the speaker asserting that this someone is, in the speaker’s view, emotionally owned by him/her.

  The study of analysis could be started here, and you can already see the marvelous opportunities for brain work with just these two lines. What are all the possibilities of this opening comment? There will be more analysis in chapter 9.

  Now do this exercise aloud with your sonnet and your monologue and have someone check you for:

  • Clearly playing the final phrase of each line

  • Allowing the thought of the whole line to be released

  You’ve now come miles on the road to playing Shakespeare!

  To show our simple skill,

  That is the true beginning of our end.

  A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM, V, i

  SUPPORTING REALISTIC DIALOGUE

  Supporting the final word or phrase of the blank verse line is required for sense. This skill will also work with most realistic dialogue. Once you have learned this skill, apply it to all text. When working with prose, including Shakespeare’s, you may be amazed to discover how frequently the final word or phrase of the prose line is the most important part. Modern writers are not using blank verse or placing a stress on the tenth syllable, but the idea of supporting the entire second part of the realistic line, if not the last word, will almost always work for you.

  Here is Octavius’s first speech in George Bernard Shaw’s Man and Superman. Observe the final word and phrase of each line.

  Octavius: But he had daughters; and yet he was as good to my sister as to me. And his death was so sudden! I always intended to thank him—to let him know that I had not taken all his care of me as a matter of course, as any boy takes his father’s care. But I waited for an opportunity; and now he is dead—dropped without a moment’s warning. He will never know what I felt. (I, i)

  Here is the opening speech of Arthur Miller’s A View From the Bridge, spoken by the lawyer, Alfieri:

  Alfieri: You wouldn’t have known it, but something amusing has just happened. You see how uneasily they nod to me? That’s because I am a lawyer. In this neighborhood to meet a lawyer or a priest on the street is unlucky. We’re only thought of in connection with disasters, and they’d rather not get too close. (I, i)

  Except for the second sentence, note how supporting final words and phrases will work with this speech. As for the second sentence, we rarely want to emphasize pronouns or put a question mark on a question. Playing “me” would be wrong for both reasons. Supporting the phrase, “they nod to me,” however, would be correct.

  Here are two examples of Shakespeare’s prose. First, the Duke in Measure for Measure:

  Duke: The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. The goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother? (III, i)

  Note how necessary it is to support the final phrase of each line, and how sometimes the final word also needs special attention.

  Here is Sir Toby Belch in Twelfth Night:

  Toby: Go, Sir Andrew. Scout me for him at the corner of the orchard like a bum-baily. So soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and as thou draw’st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away! (III, iv)

  In prose, there is no scansion guide to help you to select the most important words. You must determine the meaning of the line, then emphasize the words that clarify that meaning. For example, Sir Toby’s last line basically means “Clothes make the man.” Select the words that make this idea clear.

  But notice how the final word in the internal phrases and in the first complete sentence carries great importance. You would want to stress “bum-baily,” “draw,” both “swear” and “horrible,” and, in the second complete sentence, the final phrase “that ever proof itself would have earned him.” Of course, you would not stress “him.” Stress pronouns only by specific choice and only when needed for the sense, which is seldom.

  Most writers have their own style for dialogue, and some may intentionally “fade out” lines, like songs that don’t know how to end. But you can’t go wrong by keeping the idea of “kicking the box” close at hand. Test all of your realistic dialogue with this skill. Not only will the skill help you to sustain the thoughts, it will give you insight into the various meanings of the lines and teach you when to breathe.

  See how apt it is to learn

  Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

  MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, I, i

  * Cicely Berry, former voice coach for the Royal Shakespeare Company, mentions a similar exercise in The Actor and the Text, 179.

  CHAPTER 5

  Practice the Breathing Skill

  ASIMPLE TECHNIQUE to practice is this: Breathe at the natural stops, which are identified by punctuation marks. We could argue that the punctuation may be corrupt, so why follow it?

  Pick any modern edition of Shakespeare (we’re using The Pelican Shakespeare), and you have the punctuation that has evolved over four hundred years, often suggested by the world’s most brilliant literary minds. That’s a pretty good starting place.

  Then trust your ear. If the punctuation seems wrong and your ear tells you it should be elsewhere, move it accordingly. The actor is ultimately in charge of the language and must speak w
ith confidence.

  YOU’VE GOT TO BREATHE!

  Assuming the punctuation in our selected edition is acceptable, note what happens if you breathe “at random.” Here are the first four lines of Sonnet 143:

  Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch

  One of her feathered creatures broke away,

  Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch

  In pursuit of the thing she would have stay.

  If you breathe after “catch” simply because you’re out of breath or because on paper it looks like the end of the line, the first two lines won’t make sense. Try it, and you’ll see that the first line “ends” if you breathe after “catch,” and that it is not a complete sentence. This reading would jar the listener’s ear. The second line becomes the beginning of a speech, ignoring the incomplete first line, and messes up the third line. Lines 1 and 3 are typical enjambed lines, because the thought continues without punctuation. The actor must play the thought, and breathe only when it is completed. Sometimes you can play two or more thoughts on one breath, but you should avoid breaking a single thought into more than one breath.

  Tyrone Guthrie liked to say that any well-trained actor could speak seven lines of blank verse on one breath, in a large theatre, with clear diction and without rushing (On Acting, 14). If you can’t do that now, it’s a good exercise to work on.

  Read the first two lines in one breath (you can breathe after “Lo,” if you wish), and note the sense. If you support “catch” (but don’t breathe after it) and support “away,” (and do breathe after it) the speech keeps moving forward—we know there is more to come.

  (Don’t forget to use the caesura—probably after “housewife,” “creatures,” and “thing.”)

  Here are the first two lines of Sonnet 15:

  When I consider everything that grows

  Holds in perfection but a little moment,

  Again, don’t breathe after “grows,” although it might be followed by a caesura, because you need to set up “Holds” in the second line for sense.

  The second line is not a “regular” blank verse line, because there is a stress on the first syllable, “Holds.” How do we know that? Your common sense tells you that the verb “Holds” must be played, and that it would be silly to read the line with “Holds” unstressed and “in” stressed. Try it and you’ll see. This line is an example of Shakespeare breaking the rhythm for effect.

  Try the two lines taking a caesura after “grows” (but not a breath). Try it without the caesura. Trying to say “grows Holds” together isn’t comfortable. It also destroys the active verb “Holds.” Caesuras are often taken at special places where we might need a little pause to point up a word or thought, but don’t need a breath. (Caesuras might be inserted after “consider” and “perfection,” plus the extra caesura needed after “grows.”)

  Look at these lines in which Macbeth decides to kill Banquo and Fleance:

  Macbeth: To be thus is nothing, but to be safely thus—(1)

  Our fears in Banquo stick deep, (2)

  And in his royalty of nature reigns that (3)

  Which would be feared. ’Tis much he dares; (4)

  And to that dauntless temper of his mind (5)

  He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour (6)

  To act in safety. There is none but he (7)

  Whose being I do fear; and under him (8)

  My genius is rebuked, as it is said (9)

  Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. (III, i)

  This speech contains typical Shakespearean punctuation, as clearly as we can tell. We must remember that our versions of the plays were taken from actors’ scripts. Different editions of the plays change the punctuation slightly.

  The breathing points are the punctuation marks. Circle them, then read the speech and breathe at each mark. You will find that it is quite easy to speak from one breathing point to the next. The longest stretch is two and one-half lines.

  Don’t breathe after “Banquo” in line 2 or “nature” in line 3. But try it once to discover the problem. You will see immediately that the choice is wrong. Your common sense and good ear will tell you.

  Don’t breathe at the end of a verse line simply because it is the end of the line on paper. Unless there is punctuation, the end of the line isn’t the end of the phrase or thought. Breathe at the end of the verse line only if there is punctuation.

  Read these five lines, which have numerous punctuation points, and breathe at each natural stop (all of the punctuation points). Ariel, a spirit, greets his master, Prospero, who has sent for him, in The Tempest.

  Ariel: All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come (1)

  To answer thy best pleasure; be ‘t to fly, (2)

  To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride (3)

  On the curled clouds. To thy strong bidding task (4)

  Ariel and all his quality. (I, ii) (5)

  Did you cheat? Read it a second time and make yourself breathe at all punctuation points. You will notice that you don’t need that many breaths. You may be able to read the first line breathing only after “master” and the second “hail,” thereby cutting two breaths. But don’t cut them unless you don’t need them. You probably would have used the breaths in the three-thousand seat original Globe Theatre, but won’t use them in most modern theatres or for film. If you use breaths after “fly,” “swim,” and “fire,” they may help you create images with each phrase, which may be appropriate for the character.

  Trust your judgment. Your goal is to have a reserve of breath power available at all times and to be able to kick the box on the final word of a sentence. If you haven’t enough breath to support the final word, you are not breathing correctly. Inserting more breaths into the lines is not the best solution (although it is one), because these added breaths break up the thought in the verse line in an unnatural way and may leave you gasping and unclear. If you need to insert a breath, do it where the phrasing allows and where it will add emphasis to what you just said or are about to say.

  Your goal is to breathe correctly—to fill your lungs at each breathing point—and to avoid little gasping breaths that fill only one-third of your lung capacity. Take the time to breathe deeply, and then speak the line on the exhale. The words ride on air; just send them out.

  Yet words do well

  When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.

  AS YOU LIKE IT, III, v

  Actors accustomed to realistic text often want to “enhance” that text with sounds, gasps, crying, whispering, pauses for effect, sighs, and “ahs.” With heightened text, “enhancements” tend to destroy the rhythm of the line. When the rhythm is lost, the antithetical ideas and images are lost, and the audience listens only passively because they are not quite certain what you are saying.

  For an excellent example of reading heightened text with great heart and commitment, correct breathing, and without breaking the rhythm with unnecessary pauses or character “enhancements,” watch Kenneth Branagh speak the Saint Crispin’s speech in act IV of his film, Henry V. It’s perfection. Other similar examples are listed in part six.

  Embellishing the language with emotion because “my character would do this” will usually not work for you in Shakespeare. Your performance becomes indulgent, because you’ve lost what is being said in favor of how it is being said. Generally this direction works: If you need to cry, cry after the line, not on the line. Reason? We must hear the words first, then we can experience your sorrow without the irritation caused by a muffled and unclear line.

  If you must whisper, and risk the irritation caused by the muffled line, do it so that everyone, including the back row, can hear and understand clearly. You can even rant and rave with a powerful voice and great energy, and the audience will listen only passively if they don’t know exactly what you are saying.

  Here is a good rehearsal exercise. Clearly mark the breathing points in your monologue. Then read the speech aloud, and use up all of your air on
each group of words from breathing point to breathing point—one breath, one thought. Make certain that you support the final words, but otherwise, empty your lungs between breathing points.

  With this exercise, you will discover how much force and power you have available. It also implants in your mind the necessity to breathe. Use all of the air between breathing points, even if the line has only one word.

  As you practice this exercise, you will begin to notice that taking the breath gives you the split second you need to grasp your next line. As you inhale physically, you also inhale mentally, so to speak, and grab the next line. Then out it comes on the next breath.

  If it is your tendency as an actor to break up lines with “embellishments” for emotional effect, the above exercise may convince you that the only pauses you really need in Shakespeare are the breathing points. Keep the pauses intact, the words moving, and play the antithetical ideas against each other. You will discover that the application of too much emotion to heightened text does nothing but bury the meaning, so the audience stops listening.

  As with all good acting, don’t get ahead of yourself by thinking ahead. Stay in the moment, listen, respond. Don’t anticipate or indicate. Realize that after you speak a line, your breathing skill allows you to mentally secure your next line, and this skill will help you develop the confidence to stay in the moment.

  If you have three or four lines with no breathing points, try to conquer them. You will need a deep breath before you start line 1 and will need to control the release of your air, or you’ll never make it through and surely won’t have anything left for the important final word.

  Try this example, as the Bishop of Canterbury tells King Henry V that, if he will attack France, the Church will supply him with the money needed for the campaign.