One big surprise is that after Shakespeare's four major tragedies and the first part of Henry IV, the play that means the most to me is Cymbeline, a work that can fairly be described as neglected. (Quick—is Cymbeline a man or a woman?) Much of it is wonderful parody—it gleefully flings together most of the conventions of Elizabethan comedy in an unbelievably intricate plot—but it's exuberant, encyclopedic parody in the vein of Raiders of the Lost Ark, in which the parody transcends and surpasses its source material.

Because of his obvious affection for his sources, I feel very close to Shakespeare when I read Cymbeline, which I think represents his true farewell to the theater, much more so than The Tempest. It also has his best song ("Fear no more the heat o' the sun") and what I would venture to call his greatest role for a young woman. In fact, I now want to name my first daughter Imogen, which has led some people to assume that I'm a big fan of the band Frou Frou, and others to assume that I'm nuts.