Enter the king of Portugall and his Lords, Lewes de Sylva, and the Embassadours of Spaine.

In the plot of the play, however, the corresponding direction reads:

Enter: 2 bringing in a chair of state (mr. Hunt): w. Kendall Dab & Harry enter at one dore: Sebastian: Duke of Avero; Stukeley: 1 Pages: Jeames Ionas: & Hercules (th) to them at another dore Embassadors of Spaine mr Iones mr Charles: attendants George and w. Cartwright:[8]

Unfortunately, no similar parallel of stage direction and plot exists for any of the Globe plays. In these same plots, we may also notice, a line was drawn across the page to separate one scene from another. Probably this was done to clarify the sequence of scenes, but it had the added effect of fixing the scene divisions firmly in the actor’s mind. Together with the rhyming couplet which concluded so many scenes, it may have encouraged the insertion of a slight pause between the scenes.

In Chapter Three I fully examined the character of the scene endings. The conclusions are relevant at this point although the evidence need not be reviewed. Seventy-nine per cent of the scene endings indicate explicitly or implicitly that the actors march off-stage. About ten and one-half per cent of the scenes end with solo exits. About the same number of scenes fail to indicate that the actors actually move out. It is obvious, from this distribution, that at the ends of scenes the playwright normally provided the actors with exit lines or movements. These served a double purpose. They stressed the conclusion of the scene, and they bridged the movement across the large platform.

The sufficiency of such simple movement to separate scenes is reflected in what I call split entrances or exits. The split entrance or exit occurs when characters come together or go apart through more than one entryway. Entrance of two or more characters “at several doors” or exit of two or more characters bidding farewell to one another are split. Of the 644 entrances and exits which begin or end scenes in the Shakespearean Globe plays, only 12.1 per cent are split scenes. Even of this low figure only 6.4 per cent are definitely split scenes, the remaining number including probable cases. Thus nearly 90 per cent of the scenes merely involve the exit of one actor or group at one door and the entrance of another actor or group at another. The split scenes are readily staged, if the third entry through the center curtain is employed. Thus the burden of maintaining the continuity and clarifying the story is placed on the actors—not on the stage.

Shakespeare relies on few methods for opening a scene. In 339 entrances[9] in the Shakespearean Globe plays he employs eight methods for 88 per cent of the entrances. The most frequent type of entrance is that of the mid-speech, which accounts for over 40 per cent of the scene beginnings. In such an entrance two or more characters come on-stage engaged in a conversation the topic of which was begun off-stage. This type of entrance is best adapted to emphasize continuity of action. Among the seven other types is the processional entrance, 9½ per cent of the total; the inquiry, soliloquy, and commanding entrance, about 7 per cent each; and finally the salutation, summoning, and emotional entrances, between 5 and 6 per cent each. In the commanding entrance a character enters giving a command to someone already on-stage; in the summoning entrance the character summons someone who is off-stage, and in the emotional entrance a character enters disturbed by some emotional experience, as Julius Caesar is after the tempestuous night (II, ii).

Except for the processional and salutation entrances, the entrances plunge the audience into the midst of a new situation or a more highly developed stage of an earlier situation. In this respect the evidence would appear to contradict my suggestion that a hiatus may have defined the scenes. But considered in terms of the stage, the contradiction is more apparent than real. This can be seen by turning to the mid-speech entrance, 132 examples of which appear at the beginning of scenes. A typical example opens Othello. Roderigo and Iago enter, apparently after Iago has told Roderigo of Desdemona’s marriage.

Rod.   Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
Iago. ’Sblood, but you will not hear me!
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me.
[I, i, 1-6]

But where do the characters begin speaking? At a stage door? The stage doors on either side of the stage are virtually behind the stage pillars. No matter how narrow one supposes these pillars to be, and they cannot be very narrow considering their function of supporting the heavens and huts, they interfere with action at the stage doors. Although the exact locations of the doors in the back wall are uncertain, they must have been behind or nearly behind the pillars if one allows for the enclosure. Consequently, I doubt that the mid-speech, which usually provides information vital to the narrative, was begun at a door, and think it more likely that the characters took several paces toward the center or forward before speaking. This action may have provided a hiatus sufficient to mark a new scene. Presence of such a hiatus is supported by the fact that the mid-speech entrance seldom occurs within the body of a scene. Shakespeare uses it almost exclusively to enable the actor to maintain continuity from scene to scene. For example, in All’s Well and Measure for Measure, fifteen and ten mid-speech entrances respectively all occur at the beginnings of scenes.

However, if the characters entered through the rear curtain, they could engage in immediate conversation. Entrance of actors through the enclosure curtains was not unusual, and, in fact, may have occurred more frequently than we usually assume. For instance, in The Battle of Alcazar, the Quarto stage direction reads:

Enter the king of Portugall and the Moore, with all theyr traine.

For the same action, the plot reads:

Enter at one dore the Portingall Army with drom & Cullors: Sebastian ... att another dore Governor of Tanger ... from behind the Curtaines to them muly mahamet & Calipolis in their Charriott with moores one on each side & attending young mahamet....

Behind the terse stage direction then, lies a more elaborate entrance involving the curtain. Although definite evidence for such entrances does not exist in the Globe plays, there is, on the other hand, no evidence to exclude such entrances. Moreover, there are several situations which imply such use. At the conclusion of scene i in Othello, Brabantio and Roderigo exeunt to seek Othello. At line 160 Brabantio had come out one door, representing his house. At line 184 he and Roderigo go out, certainly not back into the house. Othello and Iago enter in mid-speech, surely upon the outer stage. But from where? Not from the door through which Brabantio and Roderigo just went out. Possibly from the door which only recently had been the entrance to Brabantio’s house. Probably through the curtain in the center of the stage. Although the evidence is not conclusively applicable to the Globe plays, it may be pertinent to note that in the Roxana drawing, the flap of the curtain is partially open, and in the frontispiece to The Wits a character is shown coming through the curtain. In all likelihood, actors regularly entered through the center curtain, and when they did, they could begin speaking immediately upon entrance. But when the entrances were made through a stage door, I suggest that conversation was held back for the several seconds needed by the actors to move into the acting area proper and there to mark the beginning of a new scene.

That a need to focus attention upon an entrance existed is evident from a consideration of the entrances within the scenes. Many of these entrances are heralded by some form of announcement or question, such as “My lady comes,” or “How now?” or “Who comes here?” Other means of emphasizing entrances were through action, such as a procession, or through music, such as the horn announcing Lear (I, iv), or through response to a previous command, such as Lucius’ report of the Ides of March in Julius Caesar (II, i). In As You Like It, I count thirty-one intrascene entrances: twenty-one are announced, one is accompanied by action, three are responses to a previous command or scheme, and six are unprepared. In Lear, there are fifty-one intrascene entrances, of which twenty-five are announced, ten accompanied by action, three by music, and thirteen unprepared. The unprepared entrances in Lear are usually unannounced for dramatic purposes. Oswald’s entering impertinently to Lear (I, iv), Lear’s bearing in the body of Cordelia (V, iii), and Oswald’s sighting “the proclaimed prize,” Gloucester, (IV, vi) depend upon suddenness for dramatic effect.

In addition to directing attention to an incoming actor, the announcement filled an awkward gap. The depth of the stage caused a dislocation between the actors already on stage and those coming on-stage. Frequently, the former would be at the front but the entrant would be at the rear. It was necessary to allow time for the entrant to come down stage. The full effect of these announcements was to formalize the entrances and enhance their ceremonial impression.

Just how conventional the entrance might have been can be seen by examining a particular group of entrance announcements. About forty-three entrances in the Shakespearean Globe plays are accompanied by announcements of greater length than the brief, “Who’s there?” These announcements run from two lines to sixteen lines in length. Most of them are short, two to four lines in length, but a few are longer than ten lines. In each of these instances a character or characters on-stage describe or comment upon someone who has just entered. Usually the entrant is aware of the others, but it is understood that he does not hear the description. Modern producers often try to cover these awkward entrances by giving the entrant some motivated business to account for the delay in speaking. But these scenes are frankly demonstrative, for the audience is supposed to be aware of both parties. In Hamlet, Polonius greets Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern. Hamlet, without answering, says:

Hark you, Guildenstern—and you too—at each ear a hearer!
That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
[II, ii, 398-401]

And so forth for another three and one-half lines. Polonius can “cover up” by waiting upon the prince, or by engaging in character business, but in essence he becomes an inert object for that period.

The longest delay in an entrance, sixteen lines, occurs in Coriolanus (V, iii, 19 ff.) when Coriolanus describes the delegation of Volumnia, Virgilia, young Marcius, and Valeria approaching him. By no means could it require a speech of that length for the actors to reach him, no matter from what part of the stage they may have entered or where he may have been standing. During his speech they become the visible expression of the inner struggle that he is about to undergo. If they move, they must move very slowly; if they stand still, they compose a picture. It is highly unlikely that the Globe company tried to “naturalize” this entrance by giving the entrants business or movement which would divert the attention of the audience from the effect their entrance was having upon Coriolanus.

Essentially the plays were written to enable the actors to enter effectively without the aid of the façade, to play intimately near the audience, and to retire convincingly without loss of attention. When one takes into account the number of processions, salutations, commands, summonses, and expressions of duty introduced to cover and emphasize the entrances, one realizes that continuity from scene to scene was mannered rather than casual, ceremonious rather than personal, conventional rather than spontaneous. The effect was probably not too far removed from the daily social manner of the Elizabethans, but on stage their natural predilection for ceremony may have been more fully systematized.

IV. RECURRENT PATTERNS OF STAGING

The patterns of continuity then do not lie in a play’s use of the stage façade but inhere in a play’s structure. Chapter Two traced the principal method of Shakespearean storytelling with its apparent looseness of construction but its actual scheme of central intensification and narrative finale. Within this framework abounds a tremendous variety of scenes which seem to defy classification. Nevertheless, situations and devices do recur in Shakespeare’s plays. It is to those recurrent devices that I now turn, for an examination of their patterns provides the best means of envisioning the staging of Shakespeare’s plays at the Globe.

At one extreme there are those devices, such as the soliloquy, which are highly conventionalized and frequently employed. At the other extreme are the situations or episodes which are so individualized that they seem to rely upon no distinct dramatic convention, and therefore seem to be “a mirror of nature.” Between the common theatrical device and the unique dramatic situation exist the many episodes and devices in Shakespeare which are more or less formal and which are repeated with greater or lesser frequency in play after play. Through the reconstruction of the staging of these recurrent devices and scenes, such as asides, disguises, and so forth, the practices of the Globe playhouse should become apparent.

I shall first consider the soliloquy, the aside, and the observation scene. These forms being readily imitable appear throughout the Globe repertory with frequency. For that reason comparisons in function and technique are plentiful. Although these devices compose a brief portion of a play, they contribute to the development of the action and represent the theatrical method employed to tell the story.

The soliloquy is probably the most characteristic theatrical device of the Elizabethan stage. In the great soliloquies of Hamlet and Macbeth Shakespeare perfected this form of expression. Unfortunately, these supreme examples have epitomized the content and atmosphere of all soliloquies. The result has been injurious both to the study of literature and the reconstruction of theatrical conventions.

In tone and character, the soliloquy displays great variation. Among the 144 soliloquies which I count in the Shakespearean Globe plays, I distinguish three main subdivisions. All of these represent some form of conscious thought brought to a point where it verges on speech. Broadly, the soliloquies can be divided into those which are essentially emotive in expression, those which are cerebral, and those which are invocative. The divisions are not hard and fast, however. The emotional release of Hamlet, after he castigates himself as a “dull and muddy mettled rascal,” gives way to rational plotting to ensnare his uncle. For convenience, however, it is not inaccurate to speak of these three categories. The emotive soliloquies make up about 40 per cent of the total; the rational, containing philosophical comments, plotting, and moralizations, make up about 46 per cent of the total; and the invocative, such as Lady Macbeth’s call to the spirits of evil, make up about 7 per cent. These figures are suggestive, not definitive, nor does it matter that they are so. The important thing to note is that the introspective soliloquy is rare. Among the emotive soliloquies, there are expressions of sheer emotion, such as Orlando’s paean of love (As You Like It, III, ii, 1-10) and Angelo’s cry of remorse (Measure for Measure, IV, iv, 22-36), Ophelia’s lamentation over Hamlet (Hamlet, III, i, 158-169), and Thersites’ railings (Troilus and Cressida, V, iv, 1-18). But there are few examples of the soliloquy of inner conflict, no more than 5 per cent of all the soliloquies.

Not only in character are the bulk of the soliloquies nonintrospective, but also in style they are extroverted. Shakespeare depends a great deal upon apostrophe to sustain the soliloquy. The character’s address may be directed toward the gods (Pericles, III, i, 1-2: “Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,/Which wash both heaven and hell”) or to another person not on stage (Antony to Cleopatra, IV, xiv, 50-52: “I come my queen.... Stay for me./Where souls do couch on flowers, we’ll hand in hand/And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze”) or to natural forces (Timon, IV, iii, 176-196, to Mother Earth) or to bodily organs (Claudius in Hamlet, III, iii, 70: “Bow, stubborn knees”). In fact, this form of address may be directed to anyone or anything. The effect of this literary figure was to substitute a listener for an absent actor. True, the listener was imaginative rather than actual, mute rather than responsive. But instead of directing the soliloquy inward, the apostrophe enabled the actor to direct it outward.

Other literary forms were also employed toward this end. Frequently the character makes himself the listener by self-interrogation. “Am I a coward? Who calls me villain?” asks Hamlet of himself (II, ii, 598-599). Often the emotive soliloquy is couched in a series of flat assertions or descriptions or comparisons, all of which are contained in Hamlet’s soliloquy beginning, “How all occasions do inform against me” (IV, iv). However, because twentieth-century ears are acutely sensitive to psychological nuances suggested by a soliloquy, they very often hear a false echo of inner revelation. Only a few speeches of admittedly great soliloquies reveal profound conflicts of the mind (Hamlet, I, ii, 129-159; II, i, 56-89; Macbeth, I, vii, 1-28; II, i, 33-64; Julius Caesar, II, i, 10-69).

In line with the modern conception of the soliloquies as moments of the most intimate, intensive personal revelation has arisen the idea that the very front of the platform stage is the true province of the soliloquy. Surrounded by the audience, so close that he could almost touch the spectators, the actor is pictured as unveiling his soul. But this view of the soliloquy must be questioned. Although there is no evidence in the Shakespearean Globe plays concerning the actors’ positions during the delivery of the soliloquies, in the non-Shakespearean Globe plays there are four instances where soliloquies are delivered from the enclosure, two each in The Devil’s Charter and Thomas Lord Cromwell. Whether or not the speaker remained in the “study” throughout the speech is uncertain. In one case, The Devil’s Charter, Act IV, scene i, a stage direction after the sixth line of the soliloquy specifies that Alexander “commeth upon the Stage out of his study” (Sig. G1r). In Cromwell one soliloquy is six lines long (Sig. B1v) and the other is ten lines long (Sig. E4v). None of the three soliloquies is introspective or intimate. Alexander expresses rage as he gazes into his magical glass. Cromwell and Gardiner in Cromwell are planning one thing or another. The remaining soliloquy in Act I, scene iv (Sig. B2v-3r), of The Devil’s Charter, is lengthy, running to thirty-two lines. In it Alexander reviews his covenant with the devil. He chastises himself, but moderately, as befits a man who benefits hugely from his compact with Lucifer. There is no indication that Alexander moves out of the “study.” In the absence of a specific direction and in view of the stage direction in Act IV, scene i, it seems likely that Alexander remained in the study. Perhaps all that the evidence can demonstrate is that no special area of the stage seems either reserved for or barred to the soliloquy and that the actor took the stage as the temper of the scene prompted. In all likelihood the actor himself decided how and where he played the soliloquy.

In none of the Globe plays is there any certain indication that the audience was directly addressed in the soliloquy. A. C. Sprague has pointed out that some soliloquies lend themselves to such delivery.[10] When Falstaff says in The Merry Wives of Windsor (III, v, 12-13), “you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking” or Iago queries (Othello, II, iii, 342-343), “and what’s he then that says I play the villain,/When this advice is free I give and honest,” the actor could speak directly to the audience. In earlier popular plays actors undoubtedly did.[11] But the plays of the Globe company do not provide conclusive evidence on this point.

Two types of asides are usually recognized. In the first, something is said “by one of the dramatic characters to another (or others) not intended to be heard by all those present.” I shall refer to this type as the “conversational aside.” In the second, what is said is “very like a soliloquy (usually short) spoken while other characters are present—and known to be present by the speaker—but unheard by them.”[12] I shall refer to this as the “solo aside.” Warren Smith distinguished a third type of aside, composed of those speeches which “appear to be aimed at rather than addressed to, another character on stage—and the words are evidently not intended for his ears or any others.”[13] For the purposes of examining the staging, the third type can be included with the second. It will be sufficient to treat only two types of asides.

Although, in a count of the two types of asides in all of Shakespeare’s plays, Warren Smith finds that the conversational aside is more numerous than the solo aside, in a similar count in the Shakespearean Globe plays only, the reverse is true. There are fifty-six conversational asides and eighty solo asides.[14] Next to the soliloquy the two together make up the most frequently used device in these plays.

The conversational aside is usually introduced by some transitional phrase which enables the speaker to move away from the rest of the actors. When Brutus agrees to permit Antony to deliver a funeral address over the body of Caesar, Cassius interrupts.

Brutus, a word with you.
You know not what you do. Do not consent
That Antony speak in his funeral.
[III, i, 231-233]

Sometimes the transitional phrase enables the nonspeakers to retire. After Macbeth receives word from Ross and Angus that he has been made Thane of Cawdor, Banquo addresses them,

Cousins, a word, I pray you.
[I, iii, 127]

This leaves Macbeth free to muse upon “the imperial theme.” Of course, not all conversational asides are so explicit. But in most cases some provision is made for enabling the speakers to separate themselves from the others. After the murder of Duncan, Lady Macbeth faints, drawing the other actors to her. This action leaves Malcolm and Donalbain free to converse (II, iii, 127-130). On occasion this type of aside may be delivered immediately upon entrance, before the newcomers have joined the other actors (Measure for Measure, IV, i, 8-9). In only a few cases is there no definite removal of the speaker from the rest of the action. Rosencrantz covertly says, “What say you?” to Guildenstern when Hamlet presses him to confess that the King sent for them (II, ii, 300) or Iago surreptitiously urges Roderigo to follow after the drunken Cassio, “How now, Roderigo?/I pray you after the Lieutenant, go!” (II, iii, 141-142). This sort of aside is flung by one character to another usually without drawing forth a response. In a few asides a single line is elicited, but only two instances occur where an extended conversation is conducted without previous separation having been indicated (All’s Well, II, v, 22-29; Julius Caesar, I, ii, 178-214).

Comparison of these conversational asides with those in the non-Shakespearean Globe plays shows that the convention of separating speakers and nonspeakers was common to the playwrights of the company rather than peculiar to Shakespeare alone. To introduce extended conversational asides, the playwrights resort to such trite phrases as “A word in private Sir Raph Ierningham,” (The Merry Devil of Edmonton, Sig. B3r 10-18), “Sir Ralphe Sadler, pray a word with you” (Fair Maid of Bristow, Sig. A4v 12-B1r 10). Where oral evidence is missing, sufficient evidence is often present in the stage directions that the speakers and nonspeakers separate. In both the Shakespearean and non-Shakespearean plays the patterns of conversational asides are the same.

In the non-Shakespearean plays, fortunately, there are additional indications of how the asides were delivered. In two cases stage directions require the actors to move away from others. On meeting Astor Manfredy and Phillippo in The Devil’s Charter, Bernardo addresses Astor alone. Then according to the stage direction, “They draw themselves aside” (Sig. E1v). A similar instance occurs in A Larum for London. Egmont and the Marquis d’Harvuy are trying to convince Champaign, the Governor of Antwerp, to permit them to quarter their troops in the city. At one point, in the margin opposite the lines of the Marquis to Egmont, is a stage direction, “Take Egm. aside” (Sig. B3v 25). The movement aside may have also been followed by whispering upon the part of the actors, for after Clare draws his wife aside, saying, “My daughter Milliecent must not over-heare,” Millicent remarks aside, “I, whispering, pray God it tend my good” (The Merry Devil of Edmonton, Sig. B1v 7). Such whispering may not have been a practice in all the conversational asides, but it seems plausible. As a whole the entire pattern of excuse, movement aside, and possible whispering seems intended to create an impression of reality. This evidence, therefore, strengthens the theory for realistic staging. However, the aside was by its very nature a conventional device. Although the staging of the conversational aside appears to minimize or hide its conventionality, I believe that there is another explanation, the exposition of which depends upon an inspection of the solo aside.

In the Shakespearean plays seventy-six of the solo asides may be divided into two types according to whether or not the author made some attempt to shield the aside of the actor from the attention of the other characters on stage. In one type the other characters are occupied in conversation or business so that it is reasonable for them not to hear the aside. They may actually turn away from the actor or they may be at some distance from him. Arranging the delivery of asides in this way shows some attention to creating an illusion of actuality. In the second type the other characters are fairly near the speaker; in fact, they may be actually speaking to the person who delivers the aside. It is understood, of course, that they do not hear the aside, even in certain cases when the aside is delivered directly to them. This kind of solo aside relies heavily upon the convention of unheard speech, for which presumably there were conventional means of delivery. Of these seventy-six solo asides, exactly half falls into each category.

There is a difference in the categories, however. The evidence for the realistic solo aside is negative, that for the latter positive. The scenes in the first group enable the actor to deliver the aside apart from the other actors, that is, neither immediately before nor after the aside is he directly involved with the other characters. When Othello greets Desdemona lovingly after the sea voyage, embracing her with passionate ardor, Iago remarks:

O, you are well tun’d now!
But I’ll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.
Oth. Come, let us to the castle.
[II, i, 201-203]

Iago may or may not be near Othello and Desdemona. Modern production prefers separation, but this type of aside neither confirms nor rejects such practice. In this sense such evidence is negative.

For the second group of asides, the evidence is positive. The asides are so inserted into the dialogue that the actor has no opportunity to separate himself from the other characters. I italicize the aside.

Friend. [to Timon] The swallow follows not summer
more willing than we your lordship.
Timon. Nor more willingly leaves winter; such
summer birds are men.—Gentlemen, our
dinner will not recompense this long stay.
[Timon of Athens, III, vi, 31-35]

In addition to instances of this sort of aside, there are examples of an aside within a speech of a character. Master Page plans with his wife, Master and Mistress Ford, and the Parson to trap Falstaff at Herne’s Oak, where he will be assaulted by pinching fairies. Page offers to provide the material for the fairy garments.

Page. That silke will I go buy, and in that time
Shall M. Slender steale my Nan away,
And marry her at Eaton: go, send to Falstaffe straight.
[The Merry Wives of Windsor, IV, iv, 73-75. F.]

In such speeches, the actor had no time realistically and credibly to leave the individual or group to whom he was speaking. A slight turn of the body or face or a change in voice had to suffice. But the evidence of Pericles indicates that the action may have been deliberate and emphatic rather than precipitous and surreptitious. The abundance of asides is sufficient testimony that their delivery was not slighted. However, instead of suggesting by the division of solo asides into two groups that there were two methods of delivery, I suggest that the first group, for which the evidence is negative, were staged in the same way as the second, that is, not realistically but conventionally.

The asides were spoken from all parts of the stage. Actors delivered them from the enclosure as well as from the very front of the stage. Both Marina and Pericles speak rather long asides from the cabin or tent of Pericles’ ship, certainly a discovered setting (V, i, 95-97, 163-167). But there is no specific evidence that indicates the method of delivery. The traditional picture of the cliché aside being delivered by the actor out of the corner of his mouth or from behind the back of his hand as he leans toward the spectator did not originate in the Globe playhouse. Instead, as the following scene from Troilus and Cressida shows, the actor cultivated the irony or mockery of the aside quite overtly. Perhaps the other actors had to “freeze” during the aside, for there is no indication that they covered the solo aside with action as they did the conversational aside.

Occasionally, an elaborate pattern of asides is unfolded, often including conversational and solo asides in the same sequence. In these extended asides the formal character of staging at the Globe is readily perceptible. One particularly mannered example occurs in Troilus and Cressida. Ulysses has convinced the Grecian chiefs that they must pit Ajax against Achilles if they are to gain the services of the latter. Following this advice, Agamemnon flatters Ajax, stirring his pride and vanity. Ulysses seconds Agamemnon, asserting that Ajax should not be asked to go to Achilles as a messenger. I quote at length, italicizing the asides so that the pattern may be clear.

Nest.   O, this is well! He rubs the vein of him.
Diom.   And how his silence drinks up this applause!
Ajax.   If I go to him, with my armed fist
I’ll pash him o’er the face.
Agam.  O, no, you shall not go.
Ajax.   An ’a be proud with me, I’ll pheese his pride.
Let me go to him.
Ulys.   Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax.   A paltry insolent fellow!
Nest.   How he describes himself!
Ajax.   Can he not be sociable?
Ulys.   The raven chides blackness.
Ajax.   I’ll let his humours blood.
Agam.  He will be the physician that should be the patient.
Ajax.   An all men were o’ my mind—
Ulys.   Wit would be out of fashion.
Ajax.   ’A should not bear it so, ’a should eat swords first.
Shall pride carry it?
Nest.   An ’twould, you’ld carry half.
Ulys.   ’A would have ten shares.
Ajax.   I will knead him; I’ll make him supple.
Nest.   He’s not yet through warm. Force him with praises.
Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
[II, iii, 210-234]

This scene is a charade, not a realistic dramatic situation. Ajax talks at times as though no one else were present. Perhaps he turns away, but there is no need. It is far more likely that Nestor and Ulysses stand on one side, since they converse together and Nestor urges Ulysses on at the end, and Agamemnon and Diomedes on the other side. Ajax remains between them. There is no evidence for this arrangement, but it accords with the tendency toward symmetrical design previously discussed.

Within the limitations of the evidence, two apparently contradictory methods of staging emerge. The method of the conversational aside seems realistic, the method of the solo aside conventional. Does this mean that the Globe company practiced a mixed style of staging? I do not believe so. Although the conversational aside appears to strive for credibility in staging, it does not try to make the motivation for separating the speaker and nonspeaker credible. When Banquo calls to Angus and Ross, “Cousins, a word, I pray,” he has no reason to do so other than to leave Macbeth free to speak. His comments upon Macbeth’s reception of the new honors are hardly the reasons. Similarly, the phrase with which Hamlet draws Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to him, “at each ear a hearer,” does not lead to a realistic scene, for Hamlet, speaking aside to them, mocks Polonius who stands before Hamlet but is not supposed to hear him. There is a genuine difference in the methods of staging the two types of asides, but its purpose, I suggest, was to differentiate the kinds of asides and to preserve a clear story line. In the conversational aside the speakers draw apart, for they have to indicate which actors are supposed to hear the conversation. In the solo aside the speaker remains where he is, for his delivery indicates that no one else hears him. Both were devices, equally conventional in form, and yet regularly staged in variant methods to further the narrative.

Closely allied to the aside in structure is the type of scene that I shall call the “observation” scene. In the observation scene one or more characters on-stage, unseen whether hidden or not, observe and usually overhear other characters on-stage. In the course of the observation the observer or observers may or may not comment. In essence, the situation is contrived, although the scene in which no comments are made is more plausible than that in which comments, unheard by the observed, are uttered. But the asides have already demonstrated the basic conventionality of Elizabethan theatrical devices. The observation scene is of the same nature.

The observation scenes can be most easily studied by dividing them into those in which the observers speak and those in which they do not. Where the observers do not speak, the problem of placement is greatly simplified. In several cases, for example, the observers actually go off-stage. The location of the exit used in such cases is revealed in Hamlet. Before going to the Queen, Polonius tells the King,

Behind the arras I’ll convey myself
To hear the process.
[III, iii, 28-29]

As he and the Queen await Hamlet in her closet, he presumably indicates the same place when he tells her,

I’ll silence me even here.
[III, iv, 4]

In the Quarto of 1603, Corambis (Polonius) is more explicit.

Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming,
I’le shrowde my selfe behinde the Arras.
exit Cor.
[Sig. G2r]

Earlier in the play, in preparation for a different observation, Polonius arranged with the King to observe Hamlet as

he walks four hours together
Here in the lobby....
At such a time I’ll loose my daughter to him,
Be you and I behind an arras then.
[II, ii, 160-163]

As the moment for the observation approaches, the King explains the plan to the Queen.

Her father and myself (lawful espials)
Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen,
We may of their encounter frankly judge.
[III, i, 32-34]

Upon hearing Hamlet approach, Polonius calls to the King,

I hear him coming. Let’s withdraw, my lord.
[III, i, 55]

This is the same phrase the Queen uses to Polonius in her closet.

Withdraw; I hear him coming.
[III, iv, 7]

The stage direction specifies “Exeunt” for the King and Polonius. In both scenes the observers or observer are to be behind an arras, in both scenes they withdraw at the sound of the unsuspecting Hamlet. The location of the arras behind which the King and Polonius hide is indicated in the First Quarto. Instead of the lines already quoted, which appear in the Folio and the Second Quarto:

At such a time I’ll loose my daughter to him,
Be you and I behind an arras then.

the First Quarto reads:

There let Ofelia walke untill hee comes:
Your selfe and I will stand close in the study.
[Sig. D4v 14-15]

The word “study” in the Globe plays regularly refers to the enclosure. Therefore, although all texts specify the same place, the Folio and Second Quarto refer to the hanging in front of the study and the First Quarto refers to the study behind the hanging.

A similar observation scene occurs in Measure for Measure. While the disguised Duke is consoling Claudio in prison, Isabella, his sister, visits him. Yielding the prisoner to her, the Duke draws the Provost aside and says:

Bring me to hear them speak,
where I may be conceal’d.
[III, i, 52-53]

Kittredge marks an exit at this point and an entrance before line 152. He may be correct, for an “exit” follows the King’s and Polonius’ withdrawal behind the arras and an “entrance” precedes their emergence. In the First Quarto Corambis’ withdrawal behind the arras is also marked “exit.” I suggest, of course, that the Duke, like the King and Polonius, withdraws behind the arras to overhear Isabella and Claudio and emerges at the conclusion of their conversation.[15]

There are other scenes where silent observers remain on stage. In these scenes the observers sometimes interrupt the scene that they observe. When this happens, it is not always clear whether or not they hide behind some object or otherwise endeavor to secrete themselves until they make their presence known. Sometimes the observer definitely hides. A scene of this sort occurs in The Devil’s Charter (III, v). Frescobaldi is waiting for Caesar to enter with the man whom he is to murder. The clock strikes the hour.