A STRANGE SHIPWRECK...

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2 A STRANGE SHIPWRECK... A rich ship was sailing in the Mediterranean on its way back from Tunis. The sky was clear, the atmosphere aboard the ship joyful. Alonso, the king of Naples, together with his son Ferdinando and Antonio the Duke of Milan, was still celebrating the wedding of his beloved daughter Claribel to an important African king. Suddenly, the weather changed... As the ship skirted a seemingly uninhabited island, dark, tumultuous clouds gathered in the sky. Fierce winds rose, creating enormous vortices of icy water; thunder clapped, and bolts of lightning cracked against the hull of the sailing ship. «Tighten sails!» the captain shouted out his orders. «God save us! All is lost!» the crew cried desperately. The ship was soon caught up in one of the most frightening storms ever witnessed by the human eye. Riding just off the coast, the ship headed straight for the barrier of jagged rocks, its mast broken and its sails in tatters. «Father! Stop Please. The men on that ship will die», cried a young girl as she rushed out from the nearby cave in a vain attempt to hold back the sorcerer s arm. Prospero, however, wrapped up in his long mantle beaten by the wind, his gaze enrapt in magic and lost in a distant memory, appeared not to hear his daughter. «Father!» beseeched his frightened daughter Miranda, while with the roar of the waves came the desperate cries of those who had thrown themselves into sea and the sound of the ship s wood creaking as it was swallowed up by what looked like a foam seahorse gone wild. «Do not be afraid, my dear» he said, lowering his arm. At his gesture, the sea and the sky instantly quietened down and a burst of sunlight and of blue brought back the calm to the day. On the promontory of the island, not far from a cave made with palm branches now whirling in a vortex of sand, stood Prospero the sorcerer, silently observing the scene. Against the ink-black sky, his long white hair and beard swayed to the rhythm of the thunderclaps and of the hand holding a magic wand, which he waved about as if directing an orchestra. Every time he pointed his wand at the horizon, a tongue of fire leapt in the sky, followed by a deafening crash.

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4 LOVE WILL HAVE ITS WAY SIGHS AND CONFIDENCES In the days of ancient Athens true love did not run smooth. In fact, there was then a law which forced daughters to marry the suitor chosen by their father. There wasn t much of a choice, either submission or death The lovely Hermia, with her blond hair like ripe corn, feared just that and her heart was sad and as agitated as a stormy night. In fact, Hermia, in love with the youth Lysander and loved by him in return, had refused to obey her father Egeus who, against her will, had promised her in marriage to a young Athenian nobleman, Demetrius. Egeus had even approached the Duke of Athens, Theseus, who was about to marry the brave Queen of the Amazons Hippolyta, asking him to persuade Hermia to obey and, if she refused, to apply the cruel law. Theseus, who was busy preparing for his own wedding, didn t proclaim the sentence immediately as he usually did, and granted Hermia four days to think things over, mend her ways and obey her father. The Duke had shared his happiness with Athens by having streets and houses decorated with flowers and with lamps which illuminated the city from the windows when darkness fell. With the result that Athens seemed a garden by day and at night vied with the starry sky. Now, along one of those roads, near the market, walked Hermia with slow step and heavy heart. Although she thought herself the only unhappy Athenian, she soon discovered she was not really the only one to suffer the pangs of love. Her great friend, dark-haired Helena, was walking among the market stalls with downcast eyes. «Hermia» cried the young girl, almost relieved to find a friendly face. «Helena» answered her friend with the same enthusiasm and surprise. After embracing and chatting for a while in a desultory manner to pass the time and escape the pains tormenting them, they began to confide in each other: «Dear friend, you should be very happy to be marrying Demetrius in a few days. Instead I see a shadow in your eyes». «Demetrius» sighed Hermia, her eyes filling with tears. «He doesn t mind whether he marries me or any other girl. He only loves himself. Oh, Helena, I m in despair! I don t love Demetrius I love Lysander who has always loved me!» sobbed Hermia. At these words Helena started. She had lacked the courage to speak first, knowing that the wedding of Demetrius with her dear friend had already been decided when both girls were still children. Now, however, her heart began to hope anew. How often had she bathed her pillow with tears at night while murmuring the name of her secret beloved Demetrius! «Hermia, do you really love Lysander?» asked Helena, to be sure she had rightly understood, before disclosing her own joy.

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6 HERO E BEATRICE There was a great to do in the palace of Leonato, Governor of Messina. The servants were busy beating carpets, polishing the silverware, embellishing the rooms with drapes and flowers, garnishing the tables with all sorts of delicacies. The war had just ended, and a messenger had delivered a message informing His Lordship Leonato of the imminent arrival of Prince Don Pedro and his retinue of valiant captains, who had distinguished themselves for their audacity and bravery in the decisive battle which had led them to victory. been obliged to get by on his wit alone he would surely have died of hunger!» replied Beatrice laughing. Hero and Beatrice had grown up together after the latter s parents died. They loved each other like sisters but in all Messina, there were no two so different. Whereas Hero was dark-haired, sweet and reserved, with large doe eyes and the manners of a princess, Beatrice was blonde and, although just as beautiful as her cousin, more of a tomboy and full of zest: she loved to play pranks on people, to laugh riotously, to get up to all sorts of scrapes, her mind competing with her tongue, sophisticated and sharp. In the Governor s palace two girls were anxiously taking part in the preparations. «Ah!» sighed Hero, Leonato s beautiful, sweet daughter. «Am I to understand that Prince Don Pedro will be accompanied by a certain noble Florentine Am I wrong, my dear cousin, or last time the noble Claudio came to visit he couldn t stop making sheep s eyes at you?» Beatrice asked humorously. «Yes, you are right. We will have the pleasure of having also the noble Claudio stay with us» replied Hero blushing, «who is naturally coming with his friend Benedick...». «God help us. There exists no man more infuriating than Benedick!» rejoined Beatrice casting her eyes to heaven, remembering only too well the war of wits the two waged every time they met. «Oh, cousin! Benedick is one of the nicest gentlemen I have ever met! Why do you say the opposite? Is it perhaps because he is as clever and witty as you?» winked Hero. «Oh, no... my sweet cousin. He may think he is as clever as I, but had he

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8 LIKE TWO PEAS IN A POD Viola and her brother Sebastian were twins. The exceptional thing was that they were so alike that only their mother could tell them apart. Others could tell which was which only from their clothing. Though when they were children they often swapped clothes just for fun and because they were like two peas in a pod, with the same dark hair, the same blue eyes and identical funny expressions, everyone would be taken in, and the pair would fall about laughing! They d been born at the same time and would be separated at the same hour for the first time in their lives many years later SURVIVOR Following a terrible shipwreck off the coast of Illyria, the ship on which they were travelling sank. While Viola managed to save herself by hanging on to her brother s trunk, of Sebastian there was no certain news. The captain of the ship and the crew who had cheated death said they had seen a young man who looked like Sebastian tie himself to the mast floating in the sea and then disappearing out of sight. Even though the rumour was without proof, Viola was very much comforted by the story as it gave her hope. As soon as she was well enough, Viola decided to go looking for her brother far and wide. As the waves had washed them up on the shores of a foreign country very different to her own, the customs and habits of which she knew nothing, she resolved to disguise herself as a man to make travelling easier. So, using the clothes from Sebastian s trunk, the very one that had saved her life, she unwittingly replayed the same game as when she was little «From now on to everyone I ll be a youth called Cesario» said Viola, with the complicity of the captain and the surviving crew. Dressed as a young man, Viola went looking for her brother, asking everyone for news of him, but to no avail.

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10 CAPULETS AND MONTAGUES A PASSING CRUSH Verona, at the time of our story, was a wealthy and powerful city plagued by unrest. The high walls and the cobblestoned streets resounded with the excited voices of the young Capulets and Montagues, two rival families, as they strolled around the city as restless as wasps, sword in hand, eager to tease and even challenge each other to a duel over a mere trifle. The people of Verona, terrified at the constant rioting, uproar and shouts that spared no corner of the city, locked themselves in their homes or took shelter as soon as they saw the young men coming. Luckily someone always managed to inform the Prince, requesting him to restore peace. As happened again, on that hot July morning, when two servants from the Capulet household looked askance at two men from the Montague s. That glance accompanied by a quick exchange of pungent remarks was enough for both factions to draw their swords, with the result that the peaceful market square was soon plunged into utter chaos. This is how the Prince found it when he arrived at a gallop with his soldiers. «Here we go again! Capulets and Montagues, rebel subjects and enemies of peace! How dare you disturb the harmony of our streets? I warn you this is the last time» he boomed angrily. «Should you ever cause a disturbance on our streets again, you shall all pay for it with your lives!». And he rode off, ordering that one of the most hot-headed of the group be detained, to get rid of at least one party to the dispute and leave the other devoid of a target to attack the only way to crush the brawl. «Where is Romeo? Have you seen him?» asked Lady Montague rather uneasily to her nephew Benvolio, a real hot-head, prone to punching and knifings. «Don t worry, he didn t take part in the brawl. Look, here he comes!» replied the young man as he observed his cousin shuffling his feet along the square as a ghost in chains, sighing and pining away. «Please step aside, my Lady, and I will find out what is troubling him. He will most certainly confide in me» said Benvolio. And in fact, not long after Romeo, who was desperate to talk to someone, unburdened his soul to his cousin with a lengthy list of the wonderful virtues of a certain Rosalind with whom he was madly in love. «Poor cousin, you are well smitten! Knowing you, however, I don t think this is true love. You ll see how much fun we ll have at the masked ball in our enemies house tonight, and this will ease your aching heart» sniggered Benvolio, eager to start a fight there. At that very moment arrived the servant who had been entrusted by Benvolio to steal the extensive list of guests invited to the Capulets rich banquet. Romeo read the list of names aloud, among which was Rosalind s. «You are right. I cannot miss this event, cousin! We shall go disguised and no one will recognise us» said Romeo. «You must absolutely go, dear cousin, to cure you of this illness called Rosalind. You ll see that next to among the most beautiful ladies of Verona who will be present at the ball, she will pale in comparison and you will soon see that your swan is no other than a crow!» Benvolio joked.