would worry an Elizabethan audience less than to see Romeo vanish through a door or behind a curtain, be told two lines later that he had leaped a wall, and see him another forty lines later dodge on the stage again through door or curtain. The stage was being turned from some lane or other into the orchard beneath Juliet’s window: but this information only definitely reached them when Juliet appeared, and herself absorbed their attention.
Dr. Chambers speaks of Imogen’s chamber, with Iachimo’s trunk and the elaborate fireplaces in it. The trunk, yes; for Iachimo has to emerge from one. But has he not noticed that the detailed description of the tapestries and the chimneypiece comes two long scenes later? Iachimo, in the room itself, merely refers to:
Such and such pictures; there the windows; such
The adornment of her bed; the arras, figures,
Why, such and such.…
Shakespeare carefully avoids, that is to say, calling particular attention to what is not there. When Shallow bids Falstaff “in with him” to dinner, the action will suit with the word well enough for there to be no question between the door on the stage and the door of that excellent gentleman’s house. But when we are in the tavern—as the applejohns and the dress of the Drawers and a reference to “the room where they supped” will tell us—and we hear that Ancient Pistol is “below,” Shakespeare is quite obviously writing in terms of the play’s fiction only; as anybody will quickly discover if he tries to act the scene upon an upper stage. Tiresome, inconsistent fellows, these Elizabethan playwrights!
