Shakespeare Reverie

A Hawken Student sits with a copy of Macbeth and a cell phone in hand.

Student: (Talking on the phone) Dawg, I have no idea what to write. Maybe I can get an extension (Pause) No, I’ve already used the my printer won’t work excuse…..Later.

Student lies down to sleep.

Four characters walk on stage: Three Shakespearean Characters and William Shakespeare. Simple plaques hanging on Shakespeare with the names of the characters on the others would suffice to identify them as Julius Caesar, Hamlet and Macbeth.

Just then the student groggily awakes to encounter this spectral visitation.

Shakespeare: (speaking in an overly theatrical tone to everyone. Clears his throat) We begin as the Romans would have said “in medias res,” (Turns to the Hawken student) Or if you’re taking Spanish, that’s Latin for “in the middle of things…”

Julius Caesar: “I know what it means. It’s Latin and I am the emperor of Rome and furthermore (in histrionic fashion) “I am as constant as the northern star….”

Macbeth: First of all, you’re not the emperor of Rome. You’re a figment of this kid’s sleep deprived imagination during finals week. If anything else, you’re fictional creation of that schmuck (pointing to Shakespeare) who I’d also like to point out only saw fit to keep you alive through the first two acts of a five act play that, for whatever reason, he still saw fit to call Julius Caesar. I lasted until the fifth and final act of my play and had a sword-fight after killing a nice amount of random Scottish walk-ons.

Hamlet: (Sheepishly tries to interject) “Um…I had a sword fight too.”

Macbeth: After four hours and 36 monologues you had a sword fight… and then you got “grazed” with a “poisonous dull tipped fencing” sword. Four hours! Flesh wound! (Macbeth pointing to himself) Two hours and I’m DE-capitated. Within two and a half, people have seen my tragic flaw, my tragic downfall and my tragic reversal of fortune. Two and half hours with you and they’re buying overpriced 2 buck chuck in the lobby at intermission thinking about killing you or themselves if you don’t shut the hell up about your murdered father and that Oedipal thing with your mom. And we’ve been over this before, when we’re actually not being performed and are only showing up for these midnight spectral visitations, you remain an abstract character and don’t talk. It’s 30 plus lines guaranteed every time you freakin’ open up your mouth.

Hamlet sits down and begins moping.

Shakespeare: (Grinning and coyly pointing to Macbeth) “Methinks he doth protest too much.”

Macbeth: (Glaring and pointing at Shakespeare) “ Methinks he doth protest too much?” I’m not gonna say it again. Stop talking like one of your damn plays when you’re not writing one. We’re not on stage (points to the audience) and I have no idea why the hell all of these people are in this kid’s room at this time of night in his dream… My point? No one ever talks like methinks he doth protest too much…. ever. By the way, it’s not “Methinks he doth protest too much.” It’s “He doth protest too much, methinks.” It’s your line for Christ’s sake! A line you could have cut (pointing to Hamlet to make his play shorter!

Hawken Student: (Perhaps on laptop or blackberry says to Shakespeare) He’s right about your line. It’s right here on Wikipedia.


Julius Caesar: (clearly still wrapped up in his own thoughts) What’s a Wikipedia. Are Wikipedias in my play after I die? and (to the student) who is this pleb? (Then back to Shakespeare) And you mean my play actually goes on after I die? The title is The tragedy of Julius Caesar, not Julius Caesar and then a bunch of other Wikipedic stuff that goes on after Julius Caesar dies. (Turning to Shakespeare sounding hurt) If Brutus got another scene…..” (Shakespeare sheepishly shrugs in admission) Et tu, William? (Caesar stomps off in a huff).

Hawken Student: (To Shakespeare) So, since you’re here and my paper that I haven’t started on him (pointing at Macbeth) is due tomorrow…could you tell me a little about why--when confronted with 3 bearded and and clearly shady “women “telling his future” in the middle of rural medieval Scotland--he’s not the least bit suspicious? I mean…they’re women with beards….in the middle of nowhere….with beards. That doesn’t even happen on Lost.

Shakespeare: (With Macbeth glaring at him, again sheepishly shrugs) The people love witches and beards are cheap props. Beards bring in an extra 20 people a night. I’m making a living here.

Macbeth: (To Shakespeare) I told you that bearded ‘wyrd sister thing’ was unbelievable. (Pointing angrily at Hamlet) He gets to confront the ghost of his father who looks exactly like his father did in real life and I get to “believe” the bearded women who look like drag queens on crack. That’s it, you’ve compromised me for the last time. I’m done. I’m tired of being in a tale told by this idiot signifying nothing! (Storms off).

Shakespeare and Hawken Student, both looking befuddled and drowsy, lie down. Hamlet follows suit.

Student: (To Hamlet) Goodnight sweet prince.

Shakespeare: (Lifting his head and talking to the student) “Goodnight sweet prince.” Great line kid, but make sure you quote me and use MLA citation if you use it in the paper.

Curtain