Lead singer Robert Plant seems to have fully recovered from a struggle with tonsillitis, leaving the most reliably exciting—and hard working—concert group in rock to maraud through a 22-city tour. (They blast into Cincinnati on April 20 and finish the week in Cleveland on April 27.) You're all but guaranteed three hours of good music and occasional havoc—if you are fortunate enough to find a ticket, that is.

Enid Bagnold's comedy of ill manners is firmly earthbound, but who cares? The indomitable Katharine Hepburn levitates the evening while performing from a wheelchair (she kept it in the play even after she recovered from a fractured ankle incurred early in the run). Kate is conquering Chicago this month before winding up her 16-city tour in Baltimore next month.

For those who care to defy the ancient warning, "Cursed be those that disturb the rest of the pharaoh," this exhibit evokes, in eerie splendor, the old Egyptians' belief that you can so take it with you—especially if you're a king. Old Tut himself, understandably fragile at the age of 3,300 or so, is still back in Egypt. But many of the treasures buried with him are in the show, currently at the Field Museum in Chicago and destined later for four other cities. (For those who can't make the exhibit and have $35, Knopf has published a luxuriously illustrated book, Tutankhamun: His Tomb and Its Treasures, that is a good substitute.)