ABSTRACT
It has been a constant theme of previous chapters that Shakespeare's plays do not hold up a mirror to the real world in all its disorder and incoherence, but are a structured representation of it, designed both to delight the spectator and to illuminate some facet of human life. Even in those instances where the dramatist is concerned to project a vision of progressive disintegration (cf. Troilus and Cressida), or the loosening of the bonds of nature and the breakdown of order (cf. King Lear), the structures that act as a vehicle for the dramatist's vision are highly organized, involving multiple plots, contrasting characters and styles of discourse, and the use of significant spectacle. Shakespearian drama, in short, is highly artificial, and much of the pleasure that it affords derives from the order (and hence the meaningfulness) that it imposes on the flux of life. Nevertheless, the degree to which the attention of the theatre audience is drawn to the artificiality of the stage spectacle varies considerably from play to play. At one extreme Shakespeare may create the illusion of simply presenting the spectator with a 'slice of life', ungoverned by artistic intervention. In the Eastcheap scenes of Henry IV, Part I, for example, the tavern setting, prose dialogue, colloquial diction, and abundance of imagery drawn from daily life combine to suggest an ordinary conversation, recorded in a familiar location:
Prince. What say'st thou, Jack? Fal[staff\. The other night I fell asleep here, behind the arras, 95
and had my pocket picked: this house is turned bawdy-house, they pick pockets.
