Doc Barbara received a good education with plenty of emphasis on subjects that some consider to be of scant value in modern life. Yet, as she isn't truly a part of modern life, she disregards this snag. Naturally, she studied Shakespeare but has recently started to empathise with the wrong characters. In Macbeth her sympathy reaches out to the witches who hang about either on the blasted heath or in the wings of the stage waiting to come on again clutching the toe of a frog or the leg of a lizard. Do they draw lots, she wonders, for who has to hold the most grisly ingredient? Her grasp of the difference between art and reality is tenuous.
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Gadzooks, but I am fed up of this blasted heath. I'm out! |
This is her mental image of one witch getting so cheesed off with the blasted heath that she pops into the wings for a cuppa.
Once, during a performance of Cymbeline, (and what a performance that turned out to be!) she had totally lost the plot by Act 3 but kept awake, unlike the rest of the audience who were enjoying a quiet snooze, although less than silent in some cases. Her ancient hearing aids let her down at the line: "Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed". This is because she had had them expensively adapted to block all rude words which might offend her delicate sensibility, The result was perfect sense, however, much better than the original in her opinion. One letter can make all the difference.
