Shakespeare & The Changing of the Fool
A sentence is but a chev'ril glove to a good wit.
What makes good comedy: idiocy or wit? Prat-falls or puns? Fart jokes or situational comedy? Farley or Fey? It is a debate for the ages. In Shakespeare’s day, you’d have Kempe for the former and Armin for the latter.
William Kempe was a renowned clown (not the squeaky nose kind) and an original member of Shakespeare’s theater troupe — The Chamberlain’s Men (later renamed The King’s Men). He originated the roles of many of the comedic characters of low intelligence in the Shakespearean cannon, including Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing and Peter in Romeo and Juliet. Basically the characters we laugh at, not with. He left the company in 1599 for unknown reasons (though some posit Shakespeare throws shade on his old comrade in an aside to the players in Hamlet).
However, Shakespeare was not deprived of his funny bone, because the troupe added a fool in 1598(ish) —Robert Armin. Armin was a different breed of comedian. Whereas Kempe was the bumbling idiot, Armin was a quick-witted fool. He originated the roles of Touchstone in As You Like It, Lear’s Fool, and Feste from the play we discuss today — Twelfth Night.
Shakespeare Sitch
Twelfth Night is a perfect play to interrogate the differences between the types of comedic actors. While the play was likely written in 1601 or 1602, after Kempe had left the troupe, it still celebrates the bumbling idiocy Sir Toby Belch (yes, that is his name) and Andrew Aguecheek alongside the quick-witted punning of Armin’s Feste the fool. And, wrapped up in the perfect comedic storm, it also has sword fights, twin shenanigans,1 and completely platonic (wink) same-sex relationships aplenty!
The play, also referred to as What You Will, takes its name from the last night of the Christmas season. It opens with Viola having come ashore after being rescued from a shipwreck. Believing both her brother and her father to have perished, she conspires to dress as a man and be a servant in the household of Duke Orsino. It’s a fairly good plan for a young woman of the time with no male relatives to protect her. There’s also an added ironic hilarity in that women weren’t allowed to perform on the Elizabethan stage, so audiences of the time would have seen a young boy dressed as a young woman pretending to be a young boy.2
She is employed by the Duke who then sends Viola now going by Cesario3 to woo the Lady Olivia. However, that backfires when Lady Olivia falls in love with Viola/Cesario.4 Meanwhile, Olivia’s drunken uncle (Toby Belch) has convinced a dimwitted knight (Andrew Aguecheek) to woo his niece, mostly so Andrew will stick around and keep buying the wine. So, to break it down — Viola/Cesario loves the Duke. The Duke loves Olivia. Olivia loves Cesario/Viola. And no one loves Andrew Aguecheek.
Oh, and speaking of being unloved, let’s talk about Malvolio. Malvolio is the steward (i.e. killjoy) of Lady Olivia’s household. For this reason he is… despised seems a strong word? But yeah, despised. So, Toby Belch and Andrew Aguecheek and several other people in the house trick him into believing Lady Olivia is in love with him. He is convinced to make an absolute idiot of himself and ends up having something of a breakdown in a joke that probably goes too far… but more of that later.
And then another couple washes up on shore: Sebastian (Viola’s twin brother — who we are *constantly* assured looks *exactly* like her) and his completely platonic (wink) pirate (boy)friend Antonio. It turns out, Sebastian was rescued by Antonio after the wreck and has come to Illyria, believing his sister and father to be dead. Antonio has some history with the Duke (PIRATE!) and is not safe in Illyria. However, despite that, he follows Sebastian into the city proclaiming “But come what may, I do adore thee so that danger shall seem sport, and I will go.” Yep… platonic…
Now, we have a set of nearly-identical people running around the same town, so the games can begin. Lady Olivia comes on to Viola/Cesario, which leads the knight Andrew Aguecheek to challenge her to a duel. During that duel, Antonio intercedes to rescue Viola/Cesario believing her to be Sebastian. And Antonio, while being arrested, once again proclaims his (ahem) completely platonic feelings about Sebastian, explaining “His life I gave him and did thereto add my love, without retention or restraint, all his in dedication.” It’s a moving speech that does not prevent him from being arrested, but does suggest to Viola/Cesario that her brother might actually be alive!
Meanwhile, Lady Olivia runs into Sebastian and, believing him to be Viola/Cesario, demands that he marry her. And, although deeply confused by the offer, he agrees. RIP Team Sebastio. And now, Shakespeare to quite literally (attempts?) to straighten out the play.
The Duke confronts Olivia outside her home. Olivia rebuffs the Duke and mentions she has married Viola/Cesario. The Duke threatens to kill Viola/Cesario, and Viola/Cesario is so in love with the Duke she offers to let him. But we are saved a tragic ending by the dimwitted Toby Belch and Andrew Aguecheeck interrupting to report they’ve been beaten in a duel by Viola/Cesario, followed by Sebastian apologizing for that very act. Viola and Sebastian are reunited. Viola reveals herself to be a woman (no, not like that…). And the Duke very suddenly realizes his feelings toward Viola are toward a woman and decides to act on them and marry her.5
And so, Lady Olivia is married to Sebastian. The Duke is married to Viola. No one is in love with Antonio. And Malvolio (remember him?) is determined to be revenged on the whole pack of them.
Speak the Speech, I Pray You
Bring Shakespeare’s words into your own life by:
Intimidate your foes in an argument;
Woo a lady in a bookstore;
And… bragging on your eloquence to avoid sitting down and actually writing the newsletter you definitely didn’t intend to release the day before.
Additional Resources
Find a copy of the entire play here.
Track down the amazing production done by National Theatre Live.
Enjoy a scene of Viola and Feste the fool swapping quick-witted barbs.
There are quite a few sets of twins throughout Shakespeare’s writing. Notably, he was the father of twins — Judith and Hamnet. Hamnet, his only son, died in 1596, which likely contributed to Shakespeare’s interrogation of grief in Hamlet. But more on that later.
This is one of many reasons to tell the Shakespearean purists in your life to ‘go shake their ears’ when they resist changing the gender of Shakespearean characters. Seriously, cast me as Richard III you cowards!
Gender identity and sexual orientation in Twelfth Night is the type of thing dissertations are written on. This is a weekly newsletter I’m writing while I have a glass of wine because this is my idea of leisure, so I don’t plan to give this a comprehensive discussion. One of the beautiful things about Shakespeare is he leaves space for directors and performers to craft their own narratives with his words and plots. For the purposes of this discussion, I will refer to Viola as “she” and assume the male costume is merely to survive in a society where women had few rights. That is obviously not the only available reading, and I welcome anyone sitting with the play and bringing their own understandings of gender to it.
Again, this relationship can be played in a multitude of directions, and I would once again remind you that the reality of the Elizabethan stage was that a man dressed as a woman was falling in love with a boy dressed as a woman dressed as a boy. So, read the Lady Olivia’s proclivities As You Like It. The Bard belongs to everyone.
I’ll refer you to footnote 4…
I still think out of all the characters, Shakespeare did Malvolio dirty. His only crime was trying to be a good steward and his job. Sure, he's a stick in the mud, but his ridicule went a little too far IMHO.