Very very gay
Apr. 26th, 2005 05:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayhapA huge round of applause for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vagabond_sal, who was kind enough to play a fabulously gay Marlowe to my Shakespeare for my presentation on homoeroticism in the Elizabethan theatre.
By popular request (okay, two people) the text of this very brief play is reproduced here. I feel I should warn you, though, that I'm, you know, totally not Shakespeare; I just play himon TV.
For my final project I researched homoeroticism in the Elizabethan theatre, including homosociality and male friendships, writing as an erotically-charged activity, and the moral panic about the sexuality of the theatre. I attempted to incorporate these themes into this playlet, an imaginary dialogue between Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, whom you will remember from our discussions of Shakespeare in Love earlier in the semester.
SCENE ONE
In the center of the stage are two chairs and a table. One chair is occupied by an actor wearing a hat and a nametag that reads “MARLOWE”. Shakespeare, also wearing a hat and nametag, enters stage right.
SHAKESPEARE: Have you heard, Kit? They have closed the theatres again.
MARLOWE: What, again?
SHAKESPEARE: Yes, again.
(He takes the other chair.)
MARLOWE: Have you ever known such exquisite frustration from any woman as from these men who will throw wide open the doors to our revels for a time, only to shut them again on our excitement?
SHAKESPEARE: No, never. These puritans are the greatest coquettes.
MARLOWE: Well, what are you come for, if not to dip your quill in my ink?
SHAKESPEARE: For the consenting consort of the mind, of course.
MARLOWE: Call it thus if you like.
SHAKESPEARE: There is nothing more respectable among gentlemen and friends.
MARLOWE: And we are neither, if either I comprehend. Players and scribblers have nothing gentle about them, or so I have been told, and at great length. And as for friends--
SHAKESPEARE: Do we so disorder the world, Kit, that they would seek to strike us from it?
MARLOWE: Yes, every night. We upend it, we invert it, we disarrange it. But when the night is through, we put it right again.
SHAKESPEARE: Or put them wrong, if they will not occupy their proper place.
MARLOWE: Indeed, we are perfect moralists. You would think that they would thank us for the great service that we render them.
SHAKESPEARE: They mislike our services because they are rendered in women’s clothing.
MARLOWE: I dare say I have worked magic with my words, Will, yet so far as I am aware, I have yet to turn a single one of my players into a woman.
SHAKESPEARE: Had I that art, I would never have to scramble for fresher faces.
MARLOWE: Or fresher voices.
SHAKESPEARE: Well, we are spared the effort now.
MARLOWE: Cheer up, Will! We may yet strut another hour on the stage, and your star, however dim it shines, may yet not be wholly eclipsed.
SHAKESPEARE: I had thought to write a play.
MARLOWE: A most excellent thought, now that there is nowhere to play it.
SHAKESPEARE: We will play it in the taverns tonight.
MARLOWE: I’ll play that engagement -- for a suitable fee, of course.
SHAKESPEARE: I’ve coin enough to drown us both, at least.
MARLOWE: Then let us be off, and gladly!
SHAKESPEARE: I’lll have it thus, if no other way.
Exeunt Shakespeare and Marlowe.
vagabond_sal, who was kind enough to play a fabulously gay Marlowe to my Shakespeare for my presentation on homoeroticism in the Elizabethan theatre.By popular request (okay, two people) the text of this very brief play is reproduced here. I feel I should warn you, though, that I'm, you know, totally not Shakespeare; I just play him
For my final project I researched homoeroticism in the Elizabethan theatre, including homosociality and male friendships, writing as an erotically-charged activity, and the moral panic about the sexuality of the theatre. I attempted to incorporate these themes into this playlet, an imaginary dialogue between Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, whom you will remember from our discussions of Shakespeare in Love earlier in the semester.
SCENE ONE
In the center of the stage are two chairs and a table. One chair is occupied by an actor wearing a hat and a nametag that reads “MARLOWE”. Shakespeare, also wearing a hat and nametag, enters stage right.
SHAKESPEARE: Have you heard, Kit? They have closed the theatres again.
MARLOWE: What, again?
SHAKESPEARE: Yes, again.
(He takes the other chair.)
MARLOWE: Have you ever known such exquisite frustration from any woman as from these men who will throw wide open the doors to our revels for a time, only to shut them again on our excitement?
SHAKESPEARE: No, never. These puritans are the greatest coquettes.
MARLOWE: Well, what are you come for, if not to dip your quill in my ink?
SHAKESPEARE: For the consenting consort of the mind, of course.
MARLOWE: Call it thus if you like.
SHAKESPEARE: There is nothing more respectable among gentlemen and friends.
MARLOWE: And we are neither, if either I comprehend. Players and scribblers have nothing gentle about them, or so I have been told, and at great length. And as for friends--
SHAKESPEARE: Do we so disorder the world, Kit, that they would seek to strike us from it?
MARLOWE: Yes, every night. We upend it, we invert it, we disarrange it. But when the night is through, we put it right again.
SHAKESPEARE: Or put them wrong, if they will not occupy their proper place.
MARLOWE: Indeed, we are perfect moralists. You would think that they would thank us for the great service that we render them.
SHAKESPEARE: They mislike our services because they are rendered in women’s clothing.
MARLOWE: I dare say I have worked magic with my words, Will, yet so far as I am aware, I have yet to turn a single one of my players into a woman.
SHAKESPEARE: Had I that art, I would never have to scramble for fresher faces.
MARLOWE: Or fresher voices.
SHAKESPEARE: Well, we are spared the effort now.
MARLOWE: Cheer up, Will! We may yet strut another hour on the stage, and your star, however dim it shines, may yet not be wholly eclipsed.
SHAKESPEARE: I had thought to write a play.
MARLOWE: A most excellent thought, now that there is nowhere to play it.
SHAKESPEARE: We will play it in the taverns tonight.
MARLOWE: I’ll play that engagement -- for a suitable fee, of course.
SHAKESPEARE: I’ve coin enough to drown us both, at least.
MARLOWE: Then let us be off, and gladly!
SHAKESPEARE: I’lll have it thus, if no other way.
Exeunt Shakespeare and Marlowe.
