Brush up on your Shakespeare, Part II

By Dick Rossé
Special to the Coastal Point

I spent a couple of hours this week watching splotches of red paint dry on a white bed sheet I had bought from Goodwill for a buck-99. The paint was a glossy enamel, and I intended it to simulate blood on a Roman toga which would serve as Caesar’s shroud.

Say what?

A few weeks back I made passing reference to a little show to be held at the charmingly renovated Milton Theater on Sunday the 23rd. It’s called “Shakespeare Alive,” and it’s a spontaneous (almost) tribute to the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon on the occasion of his 442nd birthday.

Local hams (er, community theater actors) heeded the call to mount the Milton’s stage and recite a favorite Shakespearean speech or sonnet or mention an interesting factoid or two about the most revered, honored and (alas) unread writing genius in all of history.

The bunch of us gathered at a local eatery to thrash over the program. Our esteemed director, Esther Friend, thought it would be cool to have the actors preface their recitations with a personal statement on why Shakespeare holds an important place in their hearts.

Blank stares all around.

Many confessed to a total lack of affection for William B. They had been required to read him in high school and couldn’t wait to move on to something more relevant to their lives. Shakespeare was and is a rite of passage for all high school kids, akin to “Beowulf,” which I suppose is still being read, analyzed and explained to bored students by equally uninspired teachers.

My memories of high school Shakespeare were similar: a class taught by a Christian Brother in Buffalo who, on Friday, growled that we had to memorize lines 75 to 105 from “The Merchant of Venice” by Monday. Otherwise, corporal punishment would be meted out.

Properly terrorized, I learned those lines. Over the next few years, I also learned soliloquies from “Hamlet,” “MacBeth,” and “Julius Caesar.” I soon discovered that the ability to recite Shakespeare’s speeches made me a valuable asset at a party, where I sometimes would be called upon to read “something” from the Bard.

My local reputation grew to include some of the best looking girls in our class. When word got out that I had memorized Shakespeare’s love poems, I got dates. Frequently, I recited a Shakespeare sonnet when we walked home after a Saturday night movie. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day...”

My efforts were sometimes rewarded with a perfunctory peck on the cheek.

Shakespeare even saved me from personal injury and property damage.

At the age of 16, I had just purchased a brand new Smith-Corona portable typewriter, largely from the money I made as a grocery store bagger. Walking home that day, I found my way blocked by Dino Bondi and about four members of his hoodlum gang. Bondi’s old man was reputed to have close ties with the mob. Forty years later, he would have been perfectly cast as Tony Soprano’s younger brother.

He put his face tight against mine. He grabbed and squeezed my left arm. “So, you’re the guy who knows Shakespeare,” he snarled.

“I know a few speeches,” I confessed.

He looked at my new typewriter. “Then tell us some Shakespeare,” he demanded.

My health and my lovely new machine on the line, I asked if he preferred a comedy, tragedy or history.

He was getting impatient. “Just tell us some Shakespeare,” he demanded.

So I told him some Shakespeare: Marc Antony’s speech over Caesar’s corpse after old Julius had been sliced and hacked by Brutus and company.

Dino and his buddies listened attentively. Then they applauded. Dino gave me a warm pat on the back and sent me on my way.

So, this Sunday, I’m going to “tell” the same Marc Antony speech at the Milton Theater. And I’ll have someone play Caesar under my paint-splotched sheet. Not so much as a tribute to the author. I guess you’d call it more of a thank you to Dino and his friends for being a good audience and leaving my body and my brand new Smith-Corona intact.

Dick Rossé is a 36-year veteran of the Mutual and NBC radio networks, and for his final dozen years at NBC served as senior news correspondent in Washington, D.C. He currently resides in Dagsboro.