Assume for a moment that Romeo and Juliet is not about star-crossed lovers or feuding families, but more profoundly about the generic insufficiency of time that afflicts everyone and everything to do with romance, author as well as characters. Poetically and emotionally, temporal insufficiency is necessary for romance as a genre, a quality that brings it into close relationship with tragedy. Romeo and Juliet succeeds as a romance because it confirms the besetting, archetypal anxiety of all lovers, that they will not be able to transform the accident of a single meeting into the necessity of a life together, one moment into an eternity. And yet the play's success as a tragedy depends upon preventing the lovers' desired synchronicity from enduring in life, a generic countermovement to love's dilation of the moment. The interference of romantic and tragic rhythms, the mutual dependence of temporal modes in tragic and romance plots, is perhaps the most important poetic issue at stake in Romeo and Juliet, and one to which Shakespeare was alive. In adapting his most proximate source, Arthur Brooke's Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Juliet (1562), Shakespeare telescopes the chronology of the story from roughly nine months to four days, Thursday to Sunday. Then, as if in a conscious attempt to fit too much into too little, to force a tragic outcome, the prologue hurries the events once more, recasting the question of story-time as a dramatic problem, The fearful passage of their death-marked love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which but their children's end nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. (Prologue, l. 9)[1] Sudden angst and unjustified urgency is the mood the Chorus seems to want to foist upon us. The fictional journey we are about to embark upon is a 'fearful passage', made all the more so by the scant two hours allotted its course. Is that enough time, we ask, to see the story through to its end? The answer, of course, is 'no'. Doubtless Shakespeare knew that two hours, like the lovers' abbreviated four days, is inadequate and would force the cast to step up what Granville-Barker calls the play's 'quickening temper',[2] even to the point of hurrying lines past an audience struggling to keep pace with the plot. Indeed, the Chorus anticipates the likelihood of lines' going unheard, an important motive that strangely has been over-looked. To counter the 'quickening temper' it incites, the Chorus first begs the audience's patience: 'if you with patient ears attend'. Then, following the aural image, it puns on the word 'here', 'What here ['heare' Q 2] shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend', promising to recapture the missing gist of the story with acting ('our toil') as supplement to dialogue. The prologue's final couplet is the key to understanding what is going on temporally and spatially in the rest of the play. Missing and mending is not only the major task of the plot (lovers' assignations missed, misunderstandings and feuds mended) but a strategy of dramatic composition, one that acknowledges the insufficiency of the two-hour playing time and seeks to mend it by stretching the plastic unity of time and place. At the risk of subsidizing too heavily the significance of the homonymic connection between 'here' as location and 'hear' as audition, I would like to suggest that this pun stands at the threshold to a poetics of romance mistiming and misplacement. In theatre, hearing or being here establishes a character's presence or absence. For the most part, Romeo and Juliet are not here and choose not to hear; for the bulk of the play they are, in the eyes of their families, missing, an absence which generates the frequent calls of 'where' and returns of 'here'. What follows is an elaborate game of hide and seek, of watching and calling and missing, part Narcissus and Echo, part Pyramus and Thisbe in inspiration and all transacted against the chaotic, foreshortened timeframe of the Phaethon story. …
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