A Happy Tale's Best for Summer

Will Shakespeare was enjoying a third glass of mead after his opening night when there was a knock at the office door. He opened it to admit his agent, Cameron Overcoat, who was clearly in an excellent mood.

“That was brilliant”, he exuded, “An absolute triumph. The Winter’s Tale - one of your best yet. You had them rolling in the aisles.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be a rip-roaring comedy.” said Will “Have you forgotten Act II Scene 1 – ‘a sad tale’s best for winter’?”

“But nobody was bothered by that at the end”, said Cameron, “The scene with the bear chasing that bloke off stage. Brilliant gag – how you keep thinking them all up beats me. Mind you, your comic genius has been flagging a bit lately – there weren’t too many laughs in King Lear or Othello as I remember – but now’s the time to set that right.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” said Cameron, “The clue’s there in the title, isn’t it? The obvious sequel to The Winter’s Tale has to be The Summer’s Tale. You bring back all the same characters, with the obvious omission of the guy who was eaten by the bear, on a jolly romp with lots of fun and frolic in the sun, with maybe a bit of gratuitous sex thrown in for good measure. I’m telling you – it’s the future of entertainment.”

Will needed a bit of persuading, but he was prepared to let his agent say his piece and fill in a few details.

“So where do we set this play, then?” Will asked.

“How about that sea coast in Bohemia that you had in Act 3?”

“You know, I’m a bit worried about that”, said Will, “One of the critics has already pointed out to me that Bohemia doesn’t actually have a coast”.

“If you say it’s got a coast, Will, it’s got a coast. With gorgeous beaches of course, full of beautiful people doing naughty things.”

“If you say so”.

“I certainly do, and I’ve a great scene already mapped out.”

“You have?”

"Sure do. You know that bit in your play when the statue comes to life?”

“That’s right. Queen Hermione in Act 5.”

“Well, in The Summer’s Tale, this takes place on the beach, and she throws her arms wide open as she does so, causing her costume to burst open and show everything she’s got. That should get a huge laugh.”

Will wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure that the English theatre is really ready for that? This is the 17^th century after all – I can’t see that kind of carry on getting past the censor.”

"Don’t worry, Will,” said Cameron. “I know the guy – a few groats greasing the right palms will get over that obstacle. And I know just the actress for the role.”

“You do?”

“Sure. She was in The Merry Wives of Windsor – Barbara her name was, if I remember rightly.”

“Have you got any more bright ideas?”

“Well,” said Cameron, “seeing as it’s The Summer’s Tale, set on a beach in Bohemia, why don`t we actually stage it in Bohemia and take all our first night audience with us?”

“To Bohemia? How much will that cost?”

“Not much”, said Cameron. “I’ve got this mate called Ryan who arranges trips like this really cheaply.”

“Ryan?”

“Yup. Ryan Aire his name is. He’ll get you anywhere for next to nothing, as long as you don’t want to take any luggage or actually eat anything on the journey.”

“But all the way to Bohemia. It’ll take ages – it’s not as though we could actually fly there, is it? As I said before, this is the 17^th century.”

“Of course we won’t actually go to Bohemia,” said Cameron. “Southend-on-Sea will do perfectly well, given that nobody in England, including you, actually knows where Bohemia is.”

“I’m still not sure”, said Will.

“OK,” said Cameron. “How about Plan B? In your play you mention the Isle of Delphos. We could set The Summer’s Tale on this isle – Canvey Island would do as a substitute – and we have a cast of hunky men and gorgeous women, dressed in not very much, who all fall in love with each other – or at least they pretend to.”

“I don’t know”, said Will. “I can’t see myself being able to get much of a plot out of that scenario. I want kids in 400 years time to be studying my plays for GSCE and A-level, and they’ll need a bit more complexity than that.”

“OK”, said Cameron, “maybe we could tone it down a bit. Not so many raunchy encounters, maybe. But you like the idea of the island?”

“I think I do,” said Will.

“And you’ve no objection to young people falling in love in your plays?”

“Of course I haven’t,” said Will. “It happens all the time, as you know full well - with a bit of magic thrown in from time to time, like in A Midsummer’s Night Dream.”

“So there we have it”, said Cameron. “You’ve already done lovers in Summer, and magic, all you need to add is the island.”

“I’ll get writing straight away”, said Will. “But I won’t call it ‘The Summer’s Tale’. Given the state of the weather this summer so far, how does ‘The Tempest’ grab you?”

© John Welford