A couple days ago I reconnected with Harlan Underhill, my high school Shakespeare teacher from half a lifetime ago. Harlan was also the co-director of my very first production of the Bard’s work (of course, it was Romeo & Juliet. And, yes, I played Mercutio).
He and I wrote back and forth about the book, but he said he was thinking of me because he was involved in a discussion of why Romeo and Juliet don’t just run off together in the middle of the show.
It’s a question that always gets to me – in fact, makes me angry. Not at the play, or at the person asking the question. No, I get mad at a single character in the show. Friar Lawrence.
I hate the Friar. Not as a role. As a person.
There was a musical running here in Chicago a couple years back – I believe it was a Second City script, performed at CST on Navy Pier – that was something about the Trial of Friar Lawrence. They humerously blame him for everything that goes wrong in R&J.
But to me, that’s not a joke. It’s the God’s honest truth. The blame falls squarely on the Friar’s shoulders. Everything he does – and I mean everything! – is done in secret, behind men’s backs. It is not a flattering portrayal of ecclesiastic meddling. I grant that the secret wedding is well within the bounds of a normal Shakespeare play, Comedy or Tragedy (Othello comes to mind).
But the moment Tybalt is killed, the Friar should be on his way to the Prince. "My lord Escalus – these children are married. Do what you can for them." But it doesn’t seem to occur to him. Instead he comes up with a plan so that Romeo can have his wedding night, then ditch town. Romantic, perhaps. But hardly practical – except in a man devoted to secrecy, and afraid of being caught.
Why don’t Romeo and Juliet flee at that moment? Because of the Friar’s counsel. He’s the wise authority figure, the man of years. Of course they listen to him.
Then comes the moment when Juliet comes to him, threatening to kill herself unless he can prevent her marraige to Paris. Lawrence swipes a page from Friar Francis in Much Ado – fake her death! Now, if it’s me (Friar Dave, as it were) here’s my plan: "Juliet, I’ve got a horse out back. Let’s get you out of town." But no, much better to drug her. That way, the secret is still safe.
But the thing I detest the Friar for the most, the single act that I cannot forgive him for, is what happens in the tomb. Discovering Romeo and Paris slain, he hears a noise and fears discovery. He tells the groggy and terrified Juliet to come with him – "I’ll dispose of you among a sisterhood of holy nuns!" Even now he’s fearful of the story coming out. Then he does the unforgivable thing – he leaves her. "I dare no longer stay!" The cowardly friar shows his true color – yellow. The man responsible for her situation, this wise man of years, runs away, leaving a thirteen year-old girl in her family crypt beside the corpses of her cousin, her fiancee, and her husband. Honestly, what does he think will happen?
It is my sincere hope (and my strict direction when I’m in charge of a production) that when the Prince says some shall be "punished," he’s looking directly at Friar Lawrence.
I’ve played most of the male roles in this show (excluding only the Prince, Paris, and Benvolio, I think). And there is great fun to be had in them all, and Lawrence is no exception. The Friar is a great character to perform. I just loathe him as a person.
Why? Why love Mercutio and revile the Friar? Easy. While Mercutio is wild and trouble, playing the catalyst in the precipitating event, the disaster that follows is entirely due to the secrecy and fear that pervades the character of Friar Lawrence.
