Last time, we’d got a little way into Act 1 Scene ii, with Leontes, King of Sicilia, trying to persuade his childhood friend, Polixenes, King of Bohemia, who has been on an extended visit to the court of Sicilia, to stay longer. Polixenes seems pretty set on leaving.
In my opening sessions I’d noticed some words which had given me cause for concern – ‘if the King had no heir’ in particular – but nothing has yet happened to make these more than very slight, almost sub-atomic alarms. All seems well.
I’d want to pick up the reading and get another goodish rush at it and get some rhythm going, even at the expense of meaning – wait, wait. The meaning will come eventually. Just get the feel.
LEONTES
Stay your thanks a while;
And pay them when you part.
POLIXENES
Sir, that’s to-morrow.
I am question’d by my fears, of what may chance
Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
‘This is put forth too truly:’ besides, I have stay’d
To tire your royalty.
LEONTES
We are tougher, brother,
Than you can put us to’t.
POLIXENES
No longer stay.
LEONTES
One seven-night longer.
POLIXENES
Very sooth, to-morrow.
LEONTES
We’ll part the time between’s then; and in that
I’ll no gainsaying.
POLIXENES
Press me not, beseech you, so.
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i’ the world,
So soon as yours could win me: so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
‘Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.
LEONTES
Tongue-tied, our queen?
speak you.
I’d ask my group to imagine two old boyhood friends in a slight argument – are we seeing a bit of arm-wrestling? I get that from Leontes lines, ‘We are tougher, brother,/Than you can put us to’t.’ This feels slightly aggressive, perhaps mildly so, but I don’t think you’d mention your toughness if you weren’t feeling a little the need for it. but I’m rushing ahead!
When Polixenes explains why he must leave, he first gives a reasonable political reason:
I am question’d by my fears, of what may chance
Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
‘This is put forth too truly:’
A literal translation into contemporary English might read: I’m worried about what could be going on at home. ‘Sneap’ means rebuke so I think that second part must mean, ‘am worried that something may happen which would make me think that hints I should return to govern my country may have been true…’ Slight worry, what if it had a basis in fact?
So far, so sensible. But then he adds what might be a throwaway politeness: ‘besides I have stay’d/ To tire your royalty.’
Is it throwaway? Leontes now responds with his ‘I am tough’ thought.
Has Polixenes really tired him? Is something wrong? Are they -while all seems fine of the surface – really beginning to tire? to fall out? Now the arm-wrestling really does begin:
POLIXENES
No longer stay.
LEONTES
One seven-night longer.
POLIXENES
Very sooth, to-morrow.
LEONTES
We’ll part the time between’s then; and in that
I’ll no gainsaying.
POLIXENES
Press me not, beseech you, so.
Let them be playing – arm-wrestling, playing table tennis, play boxing. Just while we imagine it. Get the feeling of that back-and-forth into the room. But now the rhythm changes as Polixenes seems to think more seriously about what or who might persuade him to stay:
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i’ the world,
So soon as yours could win me: so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
‘Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.
There seems the possibility of real love in this belief that there is no tongue that could win him ‘so soon as yours’. That’s one bit of what Polixenes says. But what follows: a second thought which remembers the business of being King : ‘Were there necessity in your request, although/’Twere needful I denied it. ‘
I think that means that if Leontes has a good reason to plead with him to stay, he would, even though he needs to go home.
I notice that there are mixed feelings here: that the feelings move thick and fast – are they really close friends? Could any thing cause them to fall out? Does Leontes really want Polixenes to stay? I look more closely at the language:
My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
To you a charge and trouble:
Polixenes does not want to go, his business, affairs of state, are what drag him away. Hindering that movement makes an act of love painful – Leontes may think he is keeping him out of love, but staying is hurting Polixenes. Is it true that his staying is to Leontes a ‘charge and trouble’ ? Is that a thing we say – I’m putting you to trouble? Or is it a get-out?
All these microscopically slow reading decisions must be made in a flexible way – we’ve got to be able to change our minds later as things unfold. As in life we do.That’s one of the great things about reading Shakespeare: it requires this practise of flexible attention.
And now, suddenly, Leontes, apparently out of the blue turns to his wife, Hermione, who so far we’ve not noticed:
LEONTES
Tongue-tied, our queen?
speak you.
Again, a slight air of menace or up-for-a-fight? Why not, ‘Hermione? Cn you persuade him?’ Leontes words feel abrupt. Surely if we’d said ‘tongue tied, Jane?’ in ordinary colloquial language we’d mean – I’d expect you to have something to say on this’. It’s a small-scale accusation.
You might think this is too slow as a way of reading. Are we really going to discuss every word, intonation, possibility? I hope we are! Because this is what makes the reading our own, rather than what someone else says it is. We work out what it means, word by word, inch by inch. We do the work.
As in life we do. In real life we have sometimes to pick up deep and extended meanings from small words. Judging someone’s character in a trial or in a job interview or on a first date or by their email… each word may hint something. May, or may not. We do well to read them carefully, always remembering we might be wrong.
I’d ask my group now to reread this scene so far, all of it, in one reading, then to think again: what just happened, and what do you think of these two men? Then we’d note in pencil what we thought, ready to rub it out, if necessary, as time unfolds. Actually what happens in life – speakig for myself anyway – is that we write in pen. Awfully hard to rub out later, when you change your mind!
readerjanedavis 