Project Gutenberg's Characters of Shakespeare's Plays, by William Hazlitt # in our series by William Hazlitt Copyright la!

s are changing all o"er the !orl#$ %e sure to check the copyright la!s for your country before #o!nloa#ing or re#istributing this or any other Project Gutenberg e%ook$ &his hea#er shoul# be the first thing seen !hen "ie!ing this Project Gutenberg file$ Please #o not remo"e it$ 'o not change or e#it the hea#er !ithout !ritten permission$ Please rea# the (legal small print,( an# other information about the e%ook an# Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file$ )nclu#e# is important information about your specific rights an# restrictions in ho! the file may be use#$ *ou can also fin# out about ho! to make a #onation to Project Gutenberg, an# ho! to get in"ol"e#$ ++Welcome &o &he Worl# of ,ree Plain -anilla .lectronic &e/ts++ ++e%ooks 0ea#able %y %oth Humans an# %y Computers, Since 1231++ +++++&hese e%ooks Were Prepare# %y &housan#s of -olunteers4+++++ &itle5 Characters of Shakespeare's Plays 6uthor5 William Hazlitt 0elease 'ate5 ,ebruary, 7889 :.%ook #;8<;= :*es, !e are more than one year ahea# of sche#ule= :&his file !as first poste# on 6pril 77, 7887= .#ition5 18 >anguage5 .nglish Character set enco#ing5 6SC)) +++ S&60& ?, &H. P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0G .%??C CH606C&.0S ?, SH6C.SP.60.'S +++

Pro#uce# by Ste"e Harris, Charles ,ranks an# the ?nline 'istribute# Proofrea#ing &eam$

CH606C&.0S ?, SH6C.SP.60.'S P>6*S %y W)>>)6D H6E>)&& With an )ntro#uction by S)0 60&HA0 FA)>>.0GC?ACH

)B&0?'AC&)?B &he book here inclu#e# among &he Worl#'s Classics ma#e its first appearance as an octa"o "olume of //i" H ;7 pages, !ith the titleG page5 Characters of Shakespeare's Plays, %y William Hazlitt$ >on#on5 Printe# by C$ H$ 0eynell, 71 Picca#illy, 1<13$ William Hazlitt I133<G1< 8J came of an )rish Protestant stock, an# of a branch of it transplante# in the reign of George ) from the county of 6ntrim to &ipperary$ His father migrate#, at nineteen, to the Ani"ersity of Glasgo! I!here he !as contemporary !ith 6#am SmithJ, gra#uate# in 13K1 or thereabouts, embrace# the principles of the Anitarians, joine# their ministry, an# crosse# o"er to .nglan#L being successi"ely pastor at Wisbech in Cambri#geshire, at Darshfiel# in Gloucestershire, an# at Dai#stone$ 6t Wisbech he marrie# Grace >oftus, the #aughter of a neighbouring farmer$ ?f the many chil#ren grante# to them but three sur"i"e# infancy$ William, the youngest of these, !as born in Ditre >ane, Dai#stone, on 6pril 18, 133<$ ,rom Dai#stone the family mo"e# in 13<8 to %an#on, Co$ CorkL an# from %an#on in 13< to 6merica, !here Dr$ Hazlitt preache# before the ne! 6ssembly of the StatesGGeneral of Be! @ersey, lecture# at Phila#elphia on the ."i#ences of Christianity, foun#e# the ,irst Anitarian Church at %oston, an# #ecline# a proffere# #iploma of '$'$ )n 13<KG3 he returne# to .nglan# an# took up his abo#e at Wem, in Shropshire$ His el#er son, @ohn, !as no! ol# enough to choose a "ocation, an# chose that of a miniatureGpainter$ &he secon# chil#, Peggy, ha# begun to paint also, amateurishly in oils$ William, age# eightGGa chil# out of !hose recollection all memories of %an#on an# of 6merica Isa"e the taste of barberriesJ soon fa#e#GG took his e#ucation at home an# at a local school$ His father #esigne# him for the Anitarian ministry$ &he abo"e #ry recital contains a number of facts not to be o"erlooke# as pre#isposing causes in young Hazlitt's later careerL as that he !as )rish by bloo#, intellectual by geniture, born into #issent, an# a minority of #issent, taught at home to "alue the things of the min#, in early chil#hoo# a noma#, in later chil#hoo# 'pri"ately e#ucate#'GGa process !hich I!hate"er its meritsJ is apt to #e"elop the freak as against the citizen, the eccentric an# lopG si#e# as against !hat is proportionate an# #iscipline#$ *oung Hazlitt's cle"erness an# his passion for in#i"i#ual liberty !ere alike precocious$ )n 1321, at the age of thirteen, he compose# an# publishe# in &he Shre!sbury Chronicle a letter of protest against the calumniators of 'r$ Priestley5 a performance !hich, for the gra"ity of its thought as for the balance of its e/pression, !oul# #o cre#it to ninetyGnine gro!n men in a hun#re#$ 6t fifteen, his father #esigning that he shoul# enter the ministry, he procee#e# to the Anitarian College, HackneyL !here his master, a Dr$ Corrie, foun# him 'rather back!ar# in many of the or#inary points of learning an#, in general, of a #ry, intractable un#erstan#ing', the truth being that the la# ha# set his heart against the ministry, aspiring rather to be a philosopherGGin particular a political

philosopher$ 6t fourteen he ha# concei"e# I'in conseMuence of a #ispute one #ay, after coming out of Deeting, bet!een my father an# an ol# la#y of the congregation, respecting the repeal of the Corporation an# &est 6cts an# the limits of religious toleration'J the germ of his Project for a Be! &heory of Ci"il an# Criminal >egislation, publishe# in his maturer years I1<7<J, but #rafte# an# scribble# upon constantly in these #ays, to the neglect of his theological stu#ies$ His father, hearing of the project, forba#e him to pursue it$ &hus four or fi"e years at the Anitarian College !ere !aste#, or, at least, ha# been spent !ithout apparent profitL an# in 132< young Hazlitt, age# close upon t!enty, unsettle# in his plans as in his prospects, !as at home again an# Ias the saying isJ at a loose en#L !hen of a su##en his life foun# its spiritual apocalypse$ )t came !ith the #escent of Samuel &aylor Coleri#ge upon Shre!sbury, to take o"er the charge of a Anitarian Congregation there$ He #i# not come till late on the Satur#ay afternoon before he !as to preachL an# Dr$ 0o!e :the ab#icating minister=, !ho himself !ent #o!n to the coach in a state of an/iety an# e/pectation to look for the arri"al of his successor, coul# fin# no one at all ans!ering the #escription, but a roun#Gface# man, in a short black coat Ilike a shootingGjacketJ !hich har#ly seeme# to ha"e been ma#e for him, but !ho seeme# to be talking at a great rate to his fello!Gpassengers$ Dr$ 0o!e ha# scarce returne# to gi"e an account of his #isappointment !hen the roun#Gface# man in black entere#, an# #issipate# all #oubts on the subject by beginning to talk$ He #i# not cease !hile he staye#L nor has he since$ ?f his meeting !ith Coleri#ge, an# of the soul's a!akening that follo!e#, Hazlitt has left an account IDy ,irst 6cMuaintance !ith PoetsJ that !ill fascinate so long as .nglish prose is rea#$ 'Someho! that perio# :the time just after the ,rench 0e"olution= !as not a time !hen B?&H)BG W6S G)-.B ,?0 B?&H)BG$ &he min# opene#, an# a softness might be percei"e# coming o"er the heart of in#i"i#uals beneath (the scales that fence( our selfGinterest$' 6s Wor#s!orth !rote5 %liss !as it in that #a!n to be ali"e, %ut to be young !as "ery Hea"en$ )t !as in @anuary, 132<, that ) !as one morning before #aylight, to !alk ten miles in the mu#, to hear this celebrate# person preach$ Be"er, the longest #ay ) ha"e to li"e, shall ) ha"e such another !alk as this col#, ra!, comfortless one in the !inter of 132<$ )lGyG a #es impressions Mue ni le tems ni les circonstances peu"ent effacer$ 'usseGje "i"re #es siecles entiers, le #ou/ tems #e ma jeunesse ne peut renaitre pour moi, ni s'effacer jamais #ans ma memoire$ When ) got there the organ !as playing the 188th Psalm, an# !hen it !as #one Dr$ Coleri#ge rose an# ga"e out his te/t, '6n# he !ent up into the mountain to pray, H)DS.>,, 6>?B.$' 6s he ga"e out this te/t, his "oice 'rose like a stream of #istille# perfumes', an# !hen he came to the t!o last !or#s, !hich he pronounce# lou#, #eep, an# #istinct, it seeme# to me, !ho !as then young, as if the soun#s ha# echoe# from the bottom of the human heart, an# as if that prayer might ha"e floate# in solemn silence through the uni"erse $$$ &he

preacher then launche# into his subject, like an eagle #allying !ith the !in#$ Coleri#ge "isite# Wem, !alke# an# talke# !ith young Hazlitt, an# !oun# up by in"iting the #isciple to "isit him at Bether Sto!ey in the Fuantocks$ Hazlitt !ent, ma#e acMuaintance !ith William an# 'orothy Wor#s!orth, an# !as #ra!n more #eeply un#er the spell$ )n later years as the younger man gre! cantankerous an# the el#er #ecline#, through opium, into a 'battere# seraph', there !as an estrangement$ %ut Hazlitt ne"er forgot his obligation$ Dy soul has in#ee# remaine# in its original bon#age, #ark, obscure, !ith longings infinite an# unsatisfe#L my heart, shut up in the prisonGhouse of this ru#e clay, has ne"er foun#, nor !ill it e"er fin#, a heart to speak toL but that my un#erstan#ing also #i# not remain #umb an# brutish, or at length foun# a language that e/presses itself, ) o!e to Coleri#ge$ Coleri#ge, sympathizing !ith the young man's taste for philosophy an# abetting it, encourage# him to !ork$ upon a treatise !hich sa! the light in 1<8;, 6n .ssay on the Principles of Human 6ction5 %eing an 6rguGment in fa"our of the Batural 'isintereste#ness of the Human Din#$ Deantime, ho!e"er,GGthe ministry ha"ing been renounce#GGthe Muestion of a "ocation became more an# more urgent, an# after long in#ecision Hazlitt packe# his portmanteau for >on#on, resol"e# to learn painting un#er his brother @ohn, !ho ha# begun to #o prosperously$ @ohn taught him some ru#iments, an# packe# him off to Paris, !here he stu#ie# for some four months in the >ou"re an# learne# to i#olize %onaparte$ &his sojourn in ParisGG!rites his gran#son an# biographerGG'!as one long beau jour to him'$ His allusions to it are constant$ He returne# to .nglan# in 1<8 , !ith forme# tastes an# pre#ilections, "ery fe! of !hich he after!ar#s mo#ifie#, much less forsook$ We ne/t fin# him making a tour as a portraitGpainter through the north of .nglan#, !here Ias !as to be e/pecte#J he attempte# a portrait of Wor#s!orth, among others$ '6t his #esire', says Wor#s!orth, ') sat to him, but as he #i# not satisfy himself or my frien#s, the unfinishe# !ork !as #estroye#$' He !as more successful !ith Charles >amb, !hom he painte# Ifor a !himJ in the #ress of a -enetian Senator$ 6s a frien# of Coleri#ge an# Wor#s!orth he ha# ine"itably ma#e acMuaintance !ith the >ambs$ He first met >amb at one of the Go#!ins' strange e"ening parties an# the t!o became intimate frien#s an# fello! theatreGgoers$ Hazlitt's touchy an# #ifficult temper suspen#e# this inintimacy in later years, though to the last >amb regar#e# him as 'one of the finest an# !isest spirits breathing'L but for a !hile it !as unclou#e#$ 6t the >ambs', moreo"er, Hazlitt ma#e acMuaintance !ith a 'r$ Sto##art, o!ner of some property at Winterslo! near Salisbury, an# his sister Sarah, a la#y !earing past her first youth but yet a##icte# to keeping a number of beau/ to her string$ Hazlitt, attracte# to her from the first,GGhe ma#e a gloomy lo"er an# his subseMuent performances in that part !ere une#ifyingGGfor some years playe# !alking gentleman behin# the lea#ing suitors !ith !hom Diss Sto##art from time to time #i"ersifie# her come#y$ %ut Dary >amb !as on his si#eL the ri"als on one e/cuse or another !ent their !ays or

!ere #ismisse#L an# on Day 1, 1<8<, the marriage took place at St$ 6n#re!'s Church, Holborn$ >amb atten#e#, forebo#ing little happiness to the couple from his kno!le#ge of their temperaments$ Se"en years after I6ugust 2, 1<1;J, he !rote to Southey$ ') !as at Hazlitt's marriage, an# ha# like to ha"e been turne# out se"eral times #uring the ceremony$ 6nything a!ful makes me laugh$' &he marriage !as not a happy one$ PortraitGpainting ha# been aban#one# long before this$ &he .ssay on the Principles of Human 6ction I1<8;J ha# fallen, as the saying is, stillborn from the press5 ,ree &houghts on Public 6ffairs I1<8KJ ha# earne# for the author many enemies but fe! rea#ers5 an# a treatise attacking Dalthus's theory of population I1<83J ha# allure# the public as little$ 6 piece of hackG!ork, &he .loMuence of the %ritish Senate, also belongs to 1<835 6 Be! an# )mpro"e# Grammar of the .nglish &ongue for the use of Schools to 1<18$ &he nutriment to be #eri"e# from these !orks, again, !as not of the sort that replenishes the family table, an# in 1<17 Hazlitt left Winterslo! I!here he ha# been Muarrelling !ith his brotherGinGla!J, settle# in >on#on in 12 *ork Street, WestminsterGGonce the home of @ohn DiltonG Gan# applie# himself strenuously to lecturing an# journalism$ His lectures, on the .nglish Philosophers, !ere #eli"ere# at the 0ussell )nstitution5 his most notable journalistic !ork, on politics an# the #rama, !as #one for &he Dorning Chronicle, then e#ite# by Dr$ Perry$ ,rom an obituary notice of Hazlitt contribute# many years later I?ctober 1< 8J to an ol# magazine ) cull the follo!ing5 He obtaine# an intro#uction, about 1<82 or 1<18, to the late Dr$ Perry, of &he Dorning Chronicle, by !hom he !as engage# to report Parliamentary #ebates, !rite original articles, etc$ He also furnishe# a number of theatrical articles on the acting of Cean$ 6s a political !riter he !as apt to be too "iolentL though in general he !as not a man of "iolent temper$ He !as also apt to concei"e strong an# roote# preju#ices against in#i"i#uals on "ery slight groun#s$ %ut he !as a goo#Ghearte# man $$$ Pri"ate circumstances, it is sai#, contribute# to sour his temper an# to pro#uce a peculiar e/citement !hich too freMuently hel# its s!ay o"er him$ Dr$ Hazlitt an# Dr$ Perry #i# not agree$ Apon one occasion, to the great annoyance of some of his colleagues, he preferre# his !ine !ith a fe! frien#s to taking his share in reporting an important #iscussion in the House of Commons$ 6##e# to this, he either #i# not un#erstan# the art of reporting, or !oul# not take the trouble to master it$$$$ His original articles reMuire# to be carefully looke# after, to !ee# them of strong e/pressions$ Hazlitt's reputation gre!, not!ithstan#ing$ )n 1<19 @effrey enliste# him to !rite for &he .#inburgh 0e"ie!, an# in 1<1; he began to contribute to >eigh Hunt's paper &he ./aminer$ )n ,ebruary 1<1K he re"ie!e# Schlegel's '>ectures on 'ramatic >iterature' for the .#inburgh, an# this !oul# seem to ha"e starte# him on his Characters of Shakespeare's Plays$ &hroughout 1<1K he !rote at it se#ulously$ &he DS$, !hen complete#, !as accepte# by Dr$ C$ H$ 0eynell, of 71, Picca#illy, the hea# of a printing establishment of ol# an# high stan#ingL an# it !as agree# that 188 poun#s shoul# be pai# to the author for the entire copyright $$$ &he "olume !as publishe# by Dr$ Hunter of St$ Paul's Churchyar#L an# the author !as gratifie# by the

prompt insertion of a complimentary notice in the .#inburgh 0e"ie!$ &he !hole e#ition !ent off in si/ !eeksL an# yet it !as a halfG guinea book$' :,ootnote5 Demoirs of William Hazlitt, by W$ Care! Hazlitt, 1<<3$ -ol$ i, p$ 77<$= &he rea#er, !ho comes to it through this )ntro#uction, !ill note t!o points to Mualify his appreciation of the book as a specimen of Hazlitt's critical !riting, an# a thir# that helps to account for its fortune in 1<13$ )t !as the !ork of a man in his thirtyGeighth year, an# to that e/tent has maturity$ %ut it !as also his first serious essay, after many false starts, in an art an# in a style !hich, later on, he brilliantly mastere#$ &he subject is most pleasantly han#le#, an# !ith an infectious enthusiasm5 the rea#er feels all the !hile that his sympathy !ith Shakespeare is being stimulate# an# his un#erstan#ing promote#5 but it scarcely yiel#s either the light or the music !hich Hazlitt communicates in his later an# more famous essays$ ,or the thir# point, Hazlitt ha# ma#e enemies nor ha# e"er been cautious of making them5 an# these enemies !ere no! the 'upper #og'$ )n#ee#, they al!ays ha# been5 but the fall of Bapoleon, !hich almost broke his heart, ha# set them in full cry, an# they !ere not clement in their triumph$ )t is not easy, e"en on the e"i#ence before us, to realize that a number of the finest spirits in this country, nurse# in the hopes of the ,rench 0e"olution, kept their a#miration of Bapoleon, the hammer of ol# ba# monarchies, #o!n to the en# an# beyon# it5 that Bapier, for e/ample, historian of the !ar in the Peninsula an# as gallant a sol#ier as e"er fought un#er Wellington, !henGGlate in life, as he lay on his sofa torture# by an ol# !oun#GG ne!s !as brought him of Bapoleon's #eath, burst into a storm of !eeping that !oul# not be controlle#$ ?n Hazlitt, boun# up heart an# soul in !hat he regar#e# as the cause of ,rench an# .uropean liberty an# enlightenment, Waterloo, the fall of the .mperor, the restoration of the %ourbons, fell as blo!s almost stupefying, an# his in#ignant temper charge# Hea"en !ith them as !rongs not only public but personal to himself$ )n the !riting of the Characters he ha# foun# a partial #rug for #espair$ %ut his enemies, as soon as might be, took hol# of the ano#yne$ >ike the %ourbons, they ha# learnt nothing an# forgotten nothing$ &he Fuarterly 0e"ie! mo"e#GGfor a MuarterlyGG!ith something like agility$ 6 secon# e#ition of the book ha# been prepare#, an# !as selling briskly, !hen this 0e"ie! launche# one of its #iatribes against the !ork an# its author$ &aylor an# Hessey :the booksellers= tol# him subseMuently that they ha# sol# nearly t!o e#itions in about three months, but after the Fuarterly re"ie! of them came out they ne"er sol# another copy$ 'Dy book,' he sai#, 'sol# !ellGGthe first e#ition ha# gone off in si/ !eeksGGtill that re"ie! came out$ ) ha# just prepare# a secon# e#itionGGsuch !as calle# forGGbut then the Fuarterly tol# the public that ) !as a fool an# a #unce, an# more, that ) !as an e"il #ispose# person5 an# the public, supposing Giffor# to kno! best, confesse# that it ha# been a great ass to be please# !here it ought not to be, an# the sale completely stoppe#$

&he re"ie!, !hen e/amine#, is seen to be a smart essay in #etraction !ith its arguments a# in"i#iam "ery #eftly inserte#$ %ut as a piece of criticism it misses e"en such points as might fairly ha"e been ma#e against the bookL as, for e/ample, that it harps too monotonously upon the tense string of enthusiasm$ Hazlitt coul# not ha"e applie# to this !ork the mottoGG',or ) am nothing if not critical'GG!hich he chose for his -ie! of the .nglish Stage in 1<1<L the Characters being anything but 'critical' in the sense there connote#$ @effrey note# this in the forefront of a sympathetic article in the .#inburgh$ )t is, in truth, rather an encomium on Shakespeare than a commentary or a critiMue on himGGan# it is !ritten more to sho! e/traor#inary lo"e than e/traor#inary kno!le#ge of his pro#uctions $$$ &he author is not merely an a#mirer of our great #ramatist, but an )#olater of himL an# openly professes his i#olatry$ We ha"e oursel"es too great a leaning to the same superstition to blame him "ery much for his error5 an# though !e think, of course, that our o!n a#miration is, on the !hole, more #iscriminating an# ju#icious, there are not many points on !hich, especially after rea#ing his eloMuent e/position of them, !e shoul# be much incline# to #isagree !ith him$ &he book, as !e ha"e alrea#y intimate#, is !ritten less to tell the rea#er !hat Dr$ H$ CB?WS about Shakespeare or his !ritings than !hat he ,..>S about themGGan# WH* he feels soGGan# thinks that all !ho profess to lo"e poetry shoul# feel so like!ise$$$$ He seems pretty generally, in#ee#, in a state of happy into/icationGGan# has borro!e# from his great original, not in#ee# the force or brilliancy of his fancy, but something of its playfulness, an# a large share of his apparent joyousness an# selfGin#ulgence in its e/ercise$ )t is e"i#ently a great pleasure to him to be fully possesse# !ith the beauties of his author, an# to follo! the impulse of his unrestraine# eagerness to impress them upon his rea#ers$ Apon this, Hazlitt, no #oubt, !oul# ha"e commente#, 'Well, an# !hy notN ) choose to un#erstan# #rama through my ,..>)BGS$' &o surren#er to great art !as, for him, an# #efnitely, a part of the critic's functionGG' 6 genuine criticism shoul#, as ) take it, repeat the colours, the light an# sha#e, the soul an# bo#y of a !ork$' &his contention, for !hich Hazlitt fought all his life an# fought brilliantly, is familiar to us by this time as the gage flung to #i#actic criticism by the 'impressionist', an# in our #ay, in the generation just close# or closing, !ith a Walter Pater or a @ules >emaitre for challenger, the betting has run on the impressionist$ %ut in 1<13 Hazlitt ha# all the o##s against him !hen he stoo# up an# accuse# the great 'r$ @ohnson of ha"ing ma#e criticism 'a kin# of Procrustes' be# of genius, !here he might cut #o!n imagination to matterGofGfact, regulate the passions accor#ing to reason, an# translate the !hole into logical #iagrams an# rhetorical #eclamation'$ &hus he says of Shakespeare's characters, in contra#iction to !hat Pope ha# obser"e#, an# to !hat e"ery one else feels, that each character is a species, instea# of being an in#i"i#ual$ He in fact foun# the general species or ')'6C&)C form in Shakespeare's characters, !hich !as all he sought or care# forL he #i# not fin#

the in#i"i#ual traits, or the '06D6&)C #istinctions !hich Shakespeare has engrafte# on this general nature, because he felt no interest in them$ Bothing is easier to pro"e than that in this !orl# nobo#y e"er in"ente# anything$ So it may be pro"e# that, @ohnson ha"ing !ritten 'Great thoughts are al!ays general', %lake ha# countere# him by affirming Ilong before HazlittJ that '&o generalize is to be an i#iot$ &o particularize is the great #istinction of merit'5 e"en as it may be #emonstrable that Charles >amb, in his charming personal chat about the .lizabethan #ramatists an# his pre#ilections among them, !as alrea#y putting into practice !hat he #i# not trouble to theorize$ %ut !hen it comes to setting out the theory, grasping the !orth of the principle, stating it an# fighting for it, ) think Hazlitt may fairly claim first share in the cre#it$ He #i# not, !hen he !rote the follo!ing pages, kno! "ery much, e"en about his subject$ 6s his biographer says5 Dy gran#father came to to!n !ith "ery little bookGkno!le#ge $$$ He ha# a fair stock of i#eas $$$ %ut of the "olumes !hich form the furniture of a gentleman's library he !as egregiously ignorant $$$ Dr$ Hazlitt's resources !ere emphatically internalL from his o!n min# he #re! sufficient for himself$ Bo! !hile it may be argue# !ith plausibility, an# e"en !ith truth, that the first Mualification of a criticGGat any rate of a critic of poetryGGis, as @effrey puts the antithesis, to ,..> rather than to CB?WL !hile to be #elicately sensiti"e an# sympathetic counts more than to be !ellGinforme#L ne"ertheless learning remains respectable$ He !ho can assimilate it !ithout pe#antry I!hich is another !or# for intellectual in#igestionJ actually impro"es an# refines his feelings !hile enlarging their scope an# at the same time enlarging his resources of comparison an# illustration$ Hazlitt, !ho ha# something like a genius for felicitous, apposite Muotation, an# stea#ily bettere# it as he gre! ol#er, !oul# certainly ha"e sai# '*es' to this$ 6t all e"ents learning impressesL it carries !eight5 an# therefore it has al!ays seeme# to me that he sho!e# small tact, if some mo#esty, by heaping !hole pages of Schlegel into his o!n preface$ ,or Schlegel :,ootnote5 Whose !ork, by the !ay, cries alou# for a ne! an# better .nglish translation$= !as not only a learne# critic but a great one5 an# this mass of himGGcast !ith seeming carelessness, just here, into the scalesGG#oes gi"e the rea#er, as !ith a jerk, the sensation that Hazlitt has, of his rashness, in"ite# that !hich su##enly thro!s him up in the air to kick the beam5 that he has pro"oke# a comparison !hich e/hibits his o!n performance as cle"er but flimsy$ Bor is this impression remo"e# by his a#mirer the late Dr$ )relan#, !ho claims for the Characters that, 'although it professes to be #ramatic criticism, it is in reality a #iscourse on the philosophy of life an# human nature, more suggesti"e than many appro"e# treatises e/pressly #e"ote# to that subject'$ Well, for the secon# half of this pronouncementGGconstat$ '*ou see, my frien#,' !rites Gol#smith's Citizen of the Worl# ,'there is nothing so ri#iculous

that it has not at some time been sai# by some philosopher$' %ut for the first part, !hile a priori Dr$ )relan# ought to be rightGGsince Hazlitt, as !e ha"e seen, came to literary criticism by the roa# of philosophical !ritingGG) confess to fin#ing "ery little philosophy in this book$ ?"er an# abo"e the gusto of the !riting, !hich is infectious enough, an# the music of certain passages in !hich !e foretaste the masterly prose of Hazlitt's later .ssays, ) fin# in the book three merits !hich, as ) stu#y it, more an# more efface that first impression of flimsiness$ I1J &o begin !ith, Hazlitt ha# hol# of the right en# of the stick$ He really un#erstoo# that Shakespeare !as a #ramatic craftsman, stu#ie# him as such, !orshippe# him for his incomparable skill in #oing !hat he trie#, all his life an# all the time, to #o$ )n these #ays much merit must be allo!e# to a Shakespearian critic !ho takes his author stea#ily as a #ramatist an# not as a philosopher, or a propagan#ist, or a la!yer's clerk, or a #isappointe# lo"er, or for his acMuaintance !ith botany, politics, cyphers, Christian Science, any of the thousan# an# one things that !ith their ri"al #egrees of intrinsic importance agree in being, for Shakespeare, nihil a# rem$ I7J Secon#ly, Hazlitt al!ays treats Shakespeare as, in my opinion, he #eser"es to be treate#L that is, absolutely an# as 'patrone an# not compare' among the .lizabethans$ ) harbour an ungracious #oubt that he may ha"e #one so in 1<1KG13 for the simple an# sufficient reason that he ha# less than a bo!ing acMuaintance !ith the other .lizabethan #ramatists$ %ut he ma#e their acMuaintance in #ue course, an# #iscusse# them, yet ne"er Iso far as ) recallJ committe# the error of ranking them alongsi#e Shakespeare$ With all lo"e for the memory of >amb, an# !ith all respect for the memory of S!inburne, ) hol# that these t!o in their generations, both soake# in enjoyment of the .lizabethan styleGGan enjoyment #eri"ati"e from ShakespeareGG#i# some #isser"ice to criticism by classing them !ith him in the light they borro!L !henas truly he #iffers from them in kin# an# beyon# any reach of #egrees$ ?ne can no more estimate Shakespeare's genius in comparison !ith this, that, or the other man's of the si/teenth century, than Dilton's in comparison !ith any one's of the se"enteenth$ Some fe! men are absolute an# can only be ju#ge# absolutely$ I J ,or the thir# meritGGif the Characters be consi#ere# historicallyGG!hat seems flimsy in them is often a promise of !hat has since been substantiate#L !hat seems light an# almost ju"enile in the composition of this man, age# thirtyGnine, gi"es the scent on !hich no!a#ays the main pack of stu#ents is pursuing$ Bo one not a fool can rea# @ohnson's notes on Shakespeare !ithout respect or fail to turn to them again !ith an increase# trust in his commonGsense, as no one not a fool can rea# Hazlitt !ithout an eMual sense that he has the root of the matter, or of the spirit !hich is the matter$ 60&HA0 FA)>>.0GC?ACH 121K

&? CH60>.S >6D%, .SF$ &H)S -?>AD. )S )BSC%)%.' 6S 6 D60C ?, ?>' ,0).B'SH)P 6B' >6S&)BG .S&..D %* &H. 6A&H?0

C?B&.B&S P0.,6C. C*D%.>)B. D6C%.&H @A>)AS C6.S60 ?&H.>>? &)D?B ?, 6&H.BS C?0)?>6BAS &0?)>AS 6B' C0.SS)'6 6B&?B* 6B' C>.?P6&06 H6D>.& &H. &.DP.S& &H. D)'SADD.0 B)GH&'S '0.6D 0?D.? 6B' @A>).& >.60 0)CH60' )) H.B0* )- )B &W? P60&S H.B0* - H.B0* -) )B &H0.. P60&S 0)CH60' ))) H.B0* -))) C)BG @?HB &W.>,&H B)GH&L ?0, WH6& *?A W)>> &H. &W? G.B&>.D.B ?, -.0?B6 &H. D.0CH6B& ?, -.B)C. &H. W)B&.0'S &6>. 6>>'S W.>> &H6& .B'S W.>> >?-.'S >6%?A0'S >?S& DACH 6'? 6%?A& B?&H)BG 6S *?A >)C. )& &H. &6D)BG ?, &H. SH0.W D.6SA0. ,?0 D.6SA0. &H. D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0 &H. C?D.'* ?, .00?0S '?A%&,A> P>6*S ?, SH6C.SP.60. P?.DS 6B' S?BB.&S

P0.,6C. )t is obser"e# by Dr$ Pope, that ')f e"er any author #eser"e# the

name of an ?0)G)B6>, it !as Shakespeare$ Homer himself #re! not his art so imme#iately from the fountains of natureL it procee#e# through 6.gyptian strainers an# channels, an# came to him not !ithout some tincture of the learning, or some cast of the mo#els, of those before him$ &he poetry of Shakespeare !as inspiration5 in#ee#, he is not so much an imitator, as an instrument of natureL an# it is not so just to say that he speaks from her, as that she speaks through him$ His CH606C&.0S are so much nature herself, that it is a sort of injury to call them by so #istant a name as copies of her$ &hose of other poets ha"e a constant resemblance, !hich sho!s that they recei"e# them from one another, an# !ere but multipliers of the same image5 each picture, like a mockGrainbo!, is but the reflection of a reflection$ %ut e"ery single character in Shakespeare, is as much an in#i"i#ual, as those in life itselfL it is as impossible to fin# any t!o alikeL an# such, as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be t!ins, !ill, upon comparison, be foun# remarkably #istinct$ &o this life an# "ariety of character, !e must a## the !on#erful preser"ation of itL !hich is such throughout his plays, that ha# all the speeches been printe# !ithout the "ery names of the persons, ) belie"e one might ha"e applie# them !ith certainty to e"ery speaker$' &he object of the "olume here offere# to the public, is to illustrate these remarks in a more particular manner by a reference to each play$ 6 gentleman of the name of Dason, :,ootnote5 Hazlitt is here mistaken$ &he !ork to !hich he allu#es, '0emarks on some of the Characters of Shakespeare, by the 6uthor of ?bser"ations on Do#ern Gar#ening', !as by &homas Whately, An#erGSecretary of State un#er >or# Borth$ Whately #ie# in 1337, an# the .ssay !as publishe# posthumously in 13<; :7n# e#ition, 1<8<L r# e#ition, !ith a preface by 6rchbishop Whately, the author's nephe!, 1< 2=$ Hazlitt confuse# &$ Whately's ?bser"ations on Do#ern Gar#ening !ith George Dason's .ssay on 'esign in Gar#ening, an# the one error le# to the other$= the author of a &reatise on ?rnamental Gar#ening Inot Dason the poetJ, began a !ork of a similar kin# about forty years ago, but he only li"e# to finish a parallel bet!een the characters of Dacbeth an# 0ichar# ))) !hich is an e/cee#ingly ingenious piece of analytical criticism$ 0ichar#son's .ssays inclu#e but a fe! of Shakespeare's principal characters$ &he only !ork !hich seeme# to superse#e the necessity of an attempt like the present !as Schlegel's "ery a#mirable >ectures on the 'rama, !hich gi"e by far the best account of the plays of Shakespeare that has hitherto appeare#$ &he only circumstances in !hich it !as thought not impossible to impro"e on the manner in !hich the German critic has e/ecute# this part of his #esign, !ere in a"oi#ing an appearance of mysticism in his style, not "ery attracti"e to the .nglish rea#er, an# in bringing illustrations from particular passages of the plays themsel"es, of !hich Schlegel's !ork, from the e/tensi"eness of his plan, #i# not a#mit$ We !ill at the same time confess, that some little jealousy of the character of the national un#erstan#ing !as not !ithout its share in pro#ucing the follo!ing un#ertaking, for '!e !ere piMue#' that it shoul# be reser"e# for a foreign critic to gi"e 'reasons for the faith !hich !e .nglish ha"e in Shakespeare'$ Certainly, no !riter among oursel"es has sho!n either the same enthusiastic a#miration of his genius, or the same philosophical

acuteness in pointing out his characteristic e/cellences$ 6s !e ha"e pretty !ell e/hauste# all !e ha# to say upon this subject in the bo#y of the !ork, !e shall here transcribe Schlegel's general account of Shakespeare, !hich is in the follo!ing !or#s5 'Be"er, perhaps, !as there so comprehensi"e a talent for the #elineation of character as Shakespeare's$ )t not only grasps the #i"ersities of rank, se/, an# age, #o!n to the #a!nings of infancyL not only #o the king an# the beggar, the hero an# the pickpocket, the sage an# the i#iot, speak an# act !ith eMual truthL not only #oes he transport himself to #istant ages an# foreign nations, an# pourtray in the most accurate manner, !ith only a fe! apparent "iolations of costume, the spirit of the ancient 0omans, of the ,rench in their !ars !ith the .nglish, of the .nglish themsel"es #uring a great part of their history, of the Southern .uropeans Iin the serious part of many come#iesJ the culti"ate# society of that time, an# the former ru#e an# barbarous state of the BorthL his human characters ha"e not only such #epth an# precision that they cannot be arrange# un#er classes, an# are ine/haustible, e"en in conception5GGnoGGthis Prometheus not merely forms men, he opens the gates of the magical !orl# of spiritsL calls up the mi#night ghostL e/hibits before us his !itches ami#st their unhallo!e# mysteriesL peoples the air !ith sporti"e fairies an# sylphs5GGan# these beings, e/isting only in imagination, possess such truth an# consistency, that e"en !hen #eforme# monsters like Caliban, he e/torts the con"iction, that if there shoul# be such beings, they !oul# so con#uct themsel"es$ )n a !or#, as he carries !ith him the most fruitful an# #aring fancy into the king#om of nature,GGon the other han#, he carries nature into the regions of fancy, lying beyon# the confines of reality$ We are lost in astonishment at seeing the e/traor#inary, the !on#erful, an# the unhear# of, in such intimate nearness$ ')f Shakespeare #eser"es our a#miration for his characters, he is eMually #eser"ing of it for his e/hibition of passion, taking this !or# in its !i#est signification, as inclu#ing e"ery mental con#ition, e"ery tone from in#ifference or familiar mirth to the !il#est rage an# #espair$ He gi"es us the history of min#sL he lays open to us, in a single !or#, a !hole series of prece#ing con#itions$ His passions #o not at first stan# #isplaye# to us in all their height, as is the case !ith so many tragic poets, !ho, in the language of >essing, are thorough masters of the legal style of lo"e$ He paints, in a most inimitable manner, the gra#ual progress from the first origin$ (He gi"es(, as >essing says, (a li"ing picture of all the most minute an# secret artifices by !hich a feeling steals into our soulsL of all the imperceptible a#"antages !hich it there gainsL of all the stratagems by !hich e"ery other passion is ma#e subser"ient to it, till it becomes the sole tyrant of our #esires an# our a"ersions$( ?f all poets, perhaps, he alone has pourtraye# the mental #iseases,GGmelancholy, #elirium, lunacy,GG !ith such ine/pressible, an#, in e"ery respect, #efinite truth, that the physician may enrich his obser"ations from them in the same manner as from real cases$ '6n# yet @ohnson has objecte# to Shakespeare, that his pathos is not al!ays natural an# free from affectation$ &here are, it is true, passages, though, comparati"ely speaking, "ery fe!, !here his poetry

e/cee#s the boun#s of true #ialogue, !here a too soaring imagination, a too lu/uriant !it, ren#ere# the complete #ramatic forgetfulness of himself impossible$ With this e/ception, the censure originates only in a fanciless !ay of thinking, to !hich e"erything appears unnatural that #oes not suit its o!n tame insipi#ity$ Hence, an i#ea has been forme# of simple an# natural pathos, !hich consists in e/clamations #estitute of imagery, an# no!ise ele"ate# abo"e e"eryG#ay life$ %ut energetical passions electrify the !hole of the mental po!ers, an# !ill, conseMuently, in highly fa"oure# natures, e/press themsel"es in an ingenious an# figurati"e manner$ )t has been often remarke#, that in#ignation gi"es !itL an#, as #espair occasionally breaks out into laughter, it may sometimes also gi"e "ent to itself in antithetical comparisons$ '%esi#es, the rights of the poetical form ha"e not been #uly !eighe#$ Shakespeare, !ho !as al!ays sure of his object, to mo"e in a sufficiently po!erful manner !hen he !ishe# to #o so, has occasionally, by in#ulging in a freer play, purposely mo#erate# the impressions !hen too painful, an# imme#iately intro#uce# a musical alle"iation of our sympathy$ He ha# not those ru#e i#eas of his art !hich many mo#erns seem to ha"e, as if the poet, like the clo!n in the pro"erb, must strike t!ice on the same place$ 6n ancient rhetorician #eli"ere# a caution against #!elling too long on the e/citation of pityL for nothing, he sai#, #ries so soon as tearsL an# Shakespeare acte# conformably to this ingenious ma/im, !ithout kno!ing it$ (&he objection, that Shakespeare !oun#s our feelings by the open #isplay of the most #isgusting moral o#iousness, harro!s up the min# unmercifully, an# tortures e"en our senses by the e/hibition of the most insupportable an# hateful spectacles, is one of much greater importance$ He has ne"er, in fact, "arnishe# o"er !il# an# bloo#G thirsty passions !ith a pleasing e/terior,GGne"er clothe# crime an# !ant of principle !ith a false sho! of greatness of soulL an# in that respect he is e"ery !ay #eser"ing of praise$ &!ice he has pourtraye# #o!nright "illainsL an# the masterly !ay in !hich he has contri"e# to elu#e impressions of too painful a nature, may be seen in )ago an# 0ichar# the &hir#$ &he constant reference to a petty an# puny race must cripple the bol#ness of the poet$ ,ortunately for his art, Shakespeare li"e# in an age e/tremely susceptible of noble an# ten#er impressions, but !hich ha# still enough of the firmness inherite# from a "igorous ol#en time not to shrink back !ith #ismay from e"ery strong an# "iolent picture$ We ha"e li"e# to see trage#ies of !hich the catastrophe consists in the s!oon of an enamoure# princess$ )f Shakespeare falls occasionally into the opposite e/treme, it is a noble error, originating in the fulness of a gigantic strength5 an# yet this tragical &itan, !ho storms the hea"ens, an# threatens to tear the !orl# from off its hingesL !ho, more terrible than 6.schylus, makes our hair stan# on en#, an# congeals our bloo# !ith horror, possesse#, at the same time, the insinuating lo"eliness of the s!eetest poetry$ He plays !ith lo"e like a chil#L an# his songs are breathe# out like melting sighs$ He unites in his genius the utmost ele"ation an# the utmost #epthL an# the most foreign, an# e"en apparently irreconcilable properties subsist in him peaceably together$ &he !orl# of spirits an# nature ha"e lai# all their treasures at his feet$ )n strength a #emiGgo#, in profun#ity of "ie! a prophet, in allGseeing !is#om a protecting

spirit of a higher or#er, he lo!ers himself to mortals, as if unconscious of his superiority5 an# is as open an# unassuming as a chil#$ 'Shakespeare's comic talent is eMually !on#erful !ith that !hich he has sho!n in the pathetic an# tragic5 it stan#s on an eMual ele"ation, an# possesses eMual e/tent an# profun#ity$ 6ll that ) before !ishe# !as, not to a#mit that the former prepon#erate#$ He is highly in"enti"e in comic situations an# moti"es$ )t !ill be har#ly possible to sho! !hence he has taken any of themL !hereas, in the serious part of his #rama, he has generally lai# hol# of something alrea#y kno!n$ His comic characters are eMually true, "arious, an# profoun#, !ith his serious$ So little is he #ispose# to caricature, that !e may rather say many of his traits are almost too nice an# #elicate for the stage, that they can only be properly seize# by a great actor, an# fully un#erstoo# by a "ery acute au#ience$ Bot only has he #elineate# many kin#s of follyL he has also contri"e# to e/hibit mere stupi#ity in a most #i"erting an# entertaining manner$' -ol$ ii, p$ 19;$ We ha"e the rather a"aile# oursel"es of this testimony of a foreign critic in behalf of Shakespeare, because our o!n countryman, 'r$ @ohnson, has not been so fa"ourable to him$ )t may be sai# of Shakespeare, that 'those !ho are not for him are against him'5 for in#ifference is here the height of injustice$ We may sometimes, in or#er 'to #o a great right, #o a little !rong'$ 6n o"erGstraine# enthusiasm is more par#onable !ith respect to Shakespeare than the !ant of itL for our a#miration cannot easily surpass his genius$ We ha"e a high respect for 'r$ @ohnson's character an# un#erstan#ing, mi/e# !ith something like personal attachment5 but he !as neither a poet nor a ju#ge of poetry$ He might in one sense be a ju#ge of poetry as it falls !ithin the limits an# rules of prose, but not as it is poetry$ >east of all !as he Mualifie# to be a ju#ge of Shakespeare, !ho 'alone is high fantastical'$ >et those !ho ha"e a preju#ice against @ohnson rea# %os!ell's >ife of him5 as those !hom he has preju#ice# against Shakespeare shoul# rea# his )rene$ We #o not say that a man to be a critic must necessarily be a poet5 but to be a goo# critic, he ought not to be a ba# poet$ Such poetry as a man #eliberately !rites, such, an# such only !ill he like$ 'r$ @ohnson's Preface to his e#ition of Shakespeare looks like a laborious attempt to bury the characteristic merits of his author un#er a loa# of cumbrous phraseology, an# to !eigh his e/cellences an# #efects in eMual scales, stuffe# full of 's!elling figures an# sonorous epithets'$ Bor coul# it !ell be other!iseL 'r$ @ohnson's general po!ers of reasoning o"erlai# his critical susceptibility$ 6ll his i#eas !ere cast in a gi"en moul#, in a set form5 they !ere ma#e out by rule an# system, by clima/, inference, an# antithesis5GG Shakespeare's !ere the re"erse$ @ohnson's un#erstan#ing #ealt only in roun# numbers5 the fractions !ere lost upon him$ He re#uce# e"erything to the common stan#ar# of con"entional proprietyL an# the most e/Muisite refinement or sublimity pro#uce# an effect on his min#, only as they coul# be translate# into the language of measure# prose$ &o him an e/cess of beauty !as a faultL for it appeare# to him like an e/crescenceL an# his imagination !as #azzle# by the blaze of light$ His !ritings neither shone !ith the beams of nati"e genius, nor reflecte# them$ &he shifting shapes of fancy, the rainbo! hues of things, ma#e no impression on him5 he seize# only on

the permanent an# tangible$ He ha# no i#ea of natural objects but 'such as he coul# measure !ith a t!oGfool rule, or tell upon ten fingers'5 he ju#ge# of human nature in the same !ay, by moo# an# figure5 he sa! only the #efinite, the positi"e, an# the practical, the a"erage forms of things, not their striking #ifferencesGGtheir classes, not their #egrees$ He !as a man of strong common sense an# practical !is#om, rather than of genius or feeling$ He retaine# the regular, habitual impressions of actual objects, but he coul# not follo! the rapi# flights of fancy, or the strong mo"ements of passion$ &hat is, he !as to the poet !hat the painter of still life is to the painter of history$ Common sense sympathizes !ith the impressions of things on or#inary min#s in or#inary circumstances5 genius catches the glancing combinations presente# to the eye of fancy, un#er the influence of passion$ )t is the pro"ince of the #i#actic reasoner to take cognizance of those results of human nature !hich are constantly repeate# an# al!ays the same, !hich follo! one another in regular succession, !hich are acte# upon by large classes of men, an# embo#ie# in recei"e# customs, la!s, language, an# institutionsL an# it !as in arranging, comparing, an# arguing on these kin# of general results, that @ohnson's e/cellence lay$ %ut he coul# not Muit his hol# of the commonplace an# mechanical, an# apply the general rule to the particular e/ception, or sho! ho! the nature of man !as mo#ifie# by the !orkings of passion, or the infinite fluctuations of thought an# acci#ent$ Hence he coul# ju#ge neither of the heights nor #epths of poetry$ Bor is this allL for being conscious of great po!ers in himself, an# those po!ers of an a#"erse ten#ency to those of his author, he !oul# be for setting up a foreign juris#iction o"er poetry, an# making criticism a kin# of Procrustes' be# of genius, !here he might cut #o!n imagination to matterGofGfact, regulate the passions accor#ing to reason, an# translate the !hole into logical #iagrams an# rhetorical #eclamation$ &hus he says of Shakespeare's characters, in contra#iction to !hat Pope ha# obser"e#, an# to !hat e"ery one else feels, that each character is a species, instea# of being an in#i"i#ual$ He in fact foun# the general species or ')'6C&)C form in Shakespeare's characters, !hich !as all he sought or care# forL he #i# not fin# the in#i"i#ual traits, or the '06D6&)C #istinctions !hich Shakespeare has engrafte# on this general nature, because he felt no interest in them$ Shakespeare's bol# an# happy flights of imagination !ere eMually thro!n a!ay upon our author$ He !as not only !ithout any particular fineness of organic sensibility, ali"e to all the 'mighty !orl# of ear an# eye', !hich is necessary to the painter or musician, but !ithout that intenseness of passion, !hich, seeking to e/aggerate !hate"er e/cites the feelings of pleasure or po!er in the min#, an# moul#ing the impressions of natural objects accor#ing to the impulses of imagination, pro#uces a genius an# a taste for poetry$ 6ccor#ing to 'r$ @ohnson, a mountain is sublime, or a rose is beautifulL for that their name an# #efinition imply$ %ut he !oul# no more be able to gi"e the #escription of 'o"er cliff in >ear, or the #escription of flo!ers in &he Winter's &ale, than to #escribe the objects of a si/th senseL nor #o !e think he !oul# ha"e any "ery profoun# feeling of the beauty of the passages here referre# to$ 6 stately commonGplace, such as Congre"e's #escription of a ruin in &he Dourning %ri#e, !oul# ha"e ans!ere# @ohnson's purpose just as !ell, or better than the firstL an# an in#iscriminate profusion of scents an# hues !oul# ha"e interfere# less !ith the or#inary routine of his imagination than Per#ita's

lines, !hich seem enamoure# of their o!n s!eetnessGG 'affo#ils &hat come before the s!allo! #ares, an# take &he !in#s of Darch !ith beautyL "iolets #im, %ut s!eeter than the li#s of @uno's eyes, ?r Cytherea's breath$GG Bo one !ho #oes not feel the passion !hich these objects inspire can go along !ith the imagination !hich seeks to e/press that passion an# the uneasy sense of #elight accompanying it by something still more beautiful, an# no one can feel this passionate lo"e of nature !ithout Muick natural sensibility$ &o a mere literal an# formal apprehension, the inimitably characteristic epithet, '"iolets ')D', must seem to imply a #efect, rather than a beautyL an# to any one, not feeling the full force of that epithet, !hich suggests an image like 'the sleepy eye of lo"e', the allusion to 'the li#s of @uno's eyes' must appear e/tra"agant an# unmeaning$ Shakespeare's fancy lent !or#s an# images to the most refine# sensibility to nature, struggling for e/pression5 his #escriptions are i#entical !ith the things themsel"es, seen through the fine me#ium of passion5 strip them of that conne/ion, an# try them by or#inary conceptions an# or#inary rules, an# they are as grotesMue an# barbarous as you please4GG%y thus lo!ering Shakespeare's genius to the stan#ar# of commonGplace in"ention, it !as easy to sho! that his faults !ere as great as his beautiesL for the e/cellence, !hich consists merely in a conformity to rules, is counterbalance# by the technical "iolation of them$ 6nother circumstance !hich le# to 'r$ @ohnson's in#iscriminate praise or censure of Shakespeare, is the "ery structure of his style$ @ohnson !rote a kin# of rhyming prose, in !hich he !as as much compelle# to finish the #ifferent clauses of his sentences, an# to balance one perio# against another, as the !riter of heroic "erse is to keep to lines of ten syllables !ith similar terminations$ He no sooner ackno!le#ges the merits of his author in one line than the perio#ical re"olution in his style carries the !eight of his opinion completely o"er to the si#e of objection, thus keeping up a perpetual alternation of perfections an# absur#ities$ We #o not other!ise kno! ho! to account for such assertions as the follo!ing5 ')n his tragic scenes, there is al!ays something !anting, but his come#y often surpasses e/pectation or #esire$ His come#y pleases by the thoughts an# the language, an# his trage#y, for the greater part, by inci#ent an# action$ His trage#y seems to be skill, his come#y to be instinct$' *et after saying that 'his trage#y !as skill', he affirms in the ne/t page, 'His #eclamations or set speeches are commonly col# an# !eak, for his po!er !as the po!er of nature5 !hen he en#ea"oure#, like other tragic !riters, to catch opportunities of amplification, an# instea# of inMuiring !hat the occasion #eman#e#, to sho! ho! much his stores of kno!le#ge coul# supply, he sel#om escapes !ithout the pity or resentment of his rea#er$' Poor Shakespeare4 %et!een the charges here brought against him, of !ant of nature in the first instance, an# of !ant of skill in the secon#, he coul# har#ly escape being con#emne#$ 6n# again, '%ut the a#mirers of this great poet ha"e most reason to complain !hen he approaches nearest to his highest e/cellence, an# seems fully resol"e# to sink them in #ejection, or mollify them !ith

ten#er emotions by the fall of greatness, the #anger of innocence, or the crosses of lo"e$ What he #oes best, he soon ceases to #o$ He no sooner begins to mo"e than he counteracts himselfL an# terror an# pity, as they are rising in the min#, are checke# an# blaste# by su##en frigi#ity$' )n all this, our critic seems more bent on maintaining the eMuilibrium of his style than the consistency or truth of his opinions$GG)f 'r$ @ohnson's opinion !as right, the follo!ing obser"ations on Shakespeare's plays must be greatly e/aggerate#, if not ri#iculous$ )f he !as !rong, !hat has been sai# may perhaps account for his being so, !ithout #etracting from his ability an# ju#gement in other things$ )t is proper to a##, that the account of the D)'SADD.0 B)GH&'S '0.6D has appeare# in another !ork$ 6pril 1;, 1<13

C*D%.>)B. C*D%.>)B. is one of the most #elightful of Shakespeare's historical plays$ )t may be consi#ere# as a #ramatic romance, in !hich the most striking parts of the story are thro!n into the form of a #ialogue, an# the interme#iate circumstances are e/plaine# by the #ifferent speakers, as occasion ren#ers it necessary$ &he action is less concentrate# in conseMuenceL but the interest becomes more aerial an# refine# from the principle of perspecti"e intro#uce# into the subject by the imaginary changes of scene as !ell as by the length of time it occupies$ &he rea#ing of this play is like going :onN= a journey !ith some uncertain object at the en# of it, an# in !hich the suspense is kept up an# heightene# by the long inter"als bet!een each action$ &hough the e"ents are scattere# o"er such an e/tent of surface, an# relate to such a "ariety of characters, yet the links !hich bin# the #ifferent interests of the story together are ne"er entirely broken$ &he most straggling an# seemingly casual inci#ents are contri"e# in such a manner as to lea# at last to the most complete #e"elopment of the catastrophe$ &he ease an# conscious unconcern !ith !hich this is effecte# only makes the skill more !on#erful$ &he business of the plot e"i#ently thickens in the last actL the story mo"es for!ar# !ith increasing rapi#ity at e"ery stepL its "arious ramifications are #ra!n from the most #istant points to the same centreL the principal characters are brought together, an# place# in "ery critical situationsL an# the fate of almost e"ery person in the #rama is ma#e to #epen# on the solution of a single circumstanceGGthe ans!er of )achimo to the Muestion of )mogen respecting the obtaining of the ring from Posthumus$ 'r$ @ohnson is of opinion that Shakespeare !as generally inattenti"e to the !in#ing up of his plots$ We think the contrary is trueL an# !e might cite in proof of this remark not only the present play, but the conclusion of >.60, of 0?D.? 6B' @A>).&, of D6C%.&H, of ?&H.>>?, e"en of H6D>.&, an# of other plays of less moment, in !hich the last act is cro!#e# !ith #ecisi"e e"ents brought about by natural an# striking means$

&he pathos in C*D%.>)B. is not "iolent or tragical, but of the most pleasing an# amiable kin#$ 6 certain ten#er gloom o'ersprea#s the !hole$ Posthumus is the ostensible hero of the piece, but its greatest charm is the character of )mogen$ Posthumus is only interesting from the interest she takes in him, an# she is only interesting herself from her ten#erness an# constancy to her husban#$ )t is the peculiar characteristic of Shakespeare's heroines, that they seem to e/ist only in their attachment to others$ &hey are pure abstractions of the affections$ We think as little of their persons as they #o themsel"es, because !e are let into the secrets of their hearts, !hich are more important$ We are too much intereste# in their affairs to stop to look at their faces, e/cept by stealth an# at inter"als$ Bo one e"er hit the true perfection of the female character, the sense of !eakness leaning on the strength of its affections for support, so !ell as ShakespeareGG no one e"er so !ell painte# natural ten#erness free from affectation an# #isguiseGGno one else e"er so !ell sho!e# ho! #elicacy an# timi#ity, !hen #ri"en to e/tremity, gro! romantic an# e/tra"agantL for the romance of his heroines Iin !hich they aboun#J is only an e/cess of the habitual preju#ices of their se/, scrupulous of being false to their "o!s, truant to their affections, an# taught by the force of feeling !hen to forgo the forms of propriety for the essence of it$ His !omen !ere in this respect e/Muisite logiciansL for there is nothing so logical as passion$ &hey kne! their o!n min#s e/actlyL an# only follo!e# up a fa"ourite i#ea, !hich they ha# s!orn to !ith their tongues, an# !hich !as engra"en on their hearts, into its unto!ar# conseMuences$ &hey !ere the prettiest little set of martyrs an# confessors on recor#$ Cibber, in speaking of the early .nglish stage, accounts for the !ant of prominence an# theatrical #isplay in Shakespeare's female characters from the circumstance, that !omen in those #ays !ere not allo!e# to play the parts of !omen, !hich ma#e it necessary to keep them a goo# #eal in the backgroun#$ 'oes not this state of manners itself, !hich pre"ente# their e/hibiting themsel"es in public, an# confine# them to the relations an# charities of #omestic life, affor# a truer e/planation of the matterN His !omen are certainly "ery unlike stageGheroinesL the re"erse of trage#yGMueens$ We ha"e almost as great an affection for )mogen as she ha# for PosthumusL an# she #eser"es it better$ ?f all Shakespeare's !omen she is perhaps the most ten#er an# the most artless$ Her incre#ulity in the opening scene !ith )achimo, as to her husban#'s infi#elity, is much the same as 'es#emona's back!ar#ness to belie"e ?thello's jealousy$ Her ans!er to the most #istressing part of the picture is only, 'Dy lor#, ) fear, has forgot %ritain$' Her rea#iness to par#on )achimo's false imputations an# his #esigns against herself, is a goo# lesson to pru#esL an# may sho! that !here there is a real attachment to "irtue, it has no nee# to bolster itself up !ith an outrageous or affecte# antipathy to "ice$ &he scene in !hich Pisanio gi"es )mogen his master's letter, accusing her of incontinency on the treacherous suggestions of )achimo, is as touchGing as it is possible for any thing to be5 Pisanio$ What cheer, Da#amN )mogen$ ,alse to his be#4 What is it to be falseN &o lie in !atch there, an# to think on himN &o !eep 't!i/t clock an# clockN )f sleep charge nature, &o break it !ith a fearful

#ream of him, 6n# cry myself a!akeN &hat's false to's be#, is itN Pisanio$ 6las, goo# la#y4 )mogen$ ) falseN thy conscience !itness, )achimo, &hou #i#st accuse him of incontinency, &hou then look'#st like a "illain5 no! methinks, &hy fa"our's goo# enough$ Some jay of )taly, Whose mother !as her painting, hath betraye# him5 Poor ) am stale, a garment out of fashion, 6n# for ) am richer than to hang by th' !alls, ) must be riptL to pieces !ith me$ ?h, Den's "o!s are !omen's traitors$ 6ll goo# seeming, %y thy re"olt, oh husban#, shall be thought Put on for "illany5 not born !here't gro!s, %ut !orn a bait for la#ies$ Pisanio$ Goo# ma#am, hear meGG)mogen$ &alk thy tongue !eary, speak5 ) ha"e hear# ) am a strumpet, an# mine ear, &herein false struck, can take no greater !oun#, Bor tent to bottom that$GG When Pisanio, !ho ha# been charge# to kill his mistress, puts her in a !ay to li"e, she says5 Why, goo# fello!, What shall ) #o the !hileN Where bi#eN Ho! li"eN ?r in my life !hat comfort, !hen ) am 'ea# to my husban#N *et !hen he a#"ises her to #isguise herself in boy's clothes, an# suggests 'a course pretty an# full in "ie!', by !hich she may 'happily be near the resi#ence of Posthumus', she e/claims5 ?h, for such means, &hough peril to my mo#esty, not #eath on't, ) !oul# a#"enture$ 6n# !hen Pisanio, enlarging on the conseMuences, tells her she must change GG,ear an# niceness, &he han#mai#s of all !omen, or more truly, Woman its pretty self, into a !aggish courage, 0ea#y in gibes, Muick ans!er'#, saucy, an# 6s Muarrellous as the !easelGG she interrupts him hastilyL Bay, be briefL ) see into thy en#, an# am almost 6 man alrea#y$ )n her journey thus #isguise# to Dilfor# Ha"en, she loses her gui#e an# her !ayL an# unbosoming her complaints, says beautifully5 GGDy #ear >or#, &hou art one of the false onesL no! ) think on thee, Dy hunger's goneL but e"en before, ) !as 6t point to sink for foo#$ She after!ar#s fin#s, as she thinks, the #ea# bo#y of Posthumus, an# engages herself as a footGboy to ser"e a 0oman officer, !hen she has #one all #ue obseMuies to him !hom she calls her former master5

GG6n# !hen With !il# !oo#Glea"es an# !ee#s ) ha' stre!'# his gra"e, 6n# on it sai# a century of pray'rs, Such as ) can, t!ice o'er, )'ll !eep an# sigh, 6n# lea"ing so his ser"ice, follo! you, So please you entertain me$ Bo! this is the "ery religion of lo"e$ She all along relies little on her personal charms, !hich she fears may ha"e been eclipse# by some painte# jay of )talyL she relies on her merit, an# her merit is in the #epth of her lo"e, her truth an# constancy$ ?ur a#miration of her beauty is e/cite# !ith as little consciousness as possible on her part$ &here are t!o #elicious #escriptions gi"en of her, one !hen she is asleep, an# one !hen she is suppose# #ea#$ 6r"iragus thus a##resses her5 GGWith fairest flo!ers, While summer lasts, an# ) li"e here, ,i#ele, )'ll s!eeten thy sa# gra"eL thou shalt not lack &he flo!'r that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor &he azur'# hareGbell, like thy "eins, no, nor &he leaf of eglantine, !hich not to slan#er, ?utGs!eeten'# not thy breath$ &he yello! )achimo gi"es another thus, !hen he steals into her be#G chamber5 GGCytherea, Ho! bra"ely thou becom'st thy be#4 ,resh lily, 6n# !hiter than the sheets ) &hat ) might touchGG %ut kiss, one kissGG&is her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus5 the flame o' th' taper %o!s to!ar# her, an# !oul# un#erGpeep her li#s, &o see th' enclose# lights no! canopie# An#er the !in#o!s, !hite an# azure, lace# With blue of Hea"'ns o!n tinctGGon her left breast 6 mole cinMueGspotte#, like the crimson #rops )' the bottom of a co!slip$ &here is a moral sense in the prou# beauty of this last image, a rich surfeit of the fancy,GGas that !ellGGkno!n passage beginning, 'De of my la!ful pleasure she restraine#, an# praye# me oft forbearance,' sets a keener e#ge upon it by the inimitable picture of mo#esty an# selfG#enial$ &he character of Cloten, the conceite#, booby lor#, an# rejecte# lo"er of )mogen, though not "ery agreeable in itself, an# at present obsolete, is #ra!n !ith great humour an# kno!le#ge of character$ &he #escription !hich )mogen gi"es of his un!elcome a##resses to herGG 'Whose lo"eGsuit hath been to me as fearful as a siege'GGis enough to cure the most ri#iculous lo"er of his folly$ )t is remarkable that though Cloten makes so poor a figure in lo"e, he is #escribe# as assuming an air of conseMuence as the Fueen's son in a council of state, an# !ith all the absur#ity of his person an# manners, is not !ithout shre!#ness in his obser"ations$ So true is it that folly is as often o!ing to a !ant of proper sentiments as to a !ant of un#erG stan#ing4 &he e/clamation of the ancient critic, '? Denan#er an#

Bature, !hich of you copie# from the otherN' !oul# not be misapplie# to Shakespeare$ &he other characters in this play are represente# !ith great truth an# accuracy, an# as it happens in most of the author's !orks, there is not only the utmost keeping in each separate characterL but in the casting of the #ifferent parts, an# their relation to one another, there is an affinity an# harmony, like !hat !e may obser"e in the gra#ations of colour in a picture$ &he striking an# po!erful contrasts in !hich Shakespeare aboun#s coul# not escape obser"ationL but the use he makes of the principle of analogy to reconcile the greatest #i"ersities of character an# to maintain a continuity of feeling throughout, has not been sufficiently atten#e# to$ )n Cymbeline, for instance, the principal interest arises out of the unalterable fi#elity of )mogen to her husban# un#er the most trying circumstances$ Bo! the other parts of the picture are fille# up !ith subor#inate e/amples of the same feeling, "ariously mo#ifie# by #ifferent situations, an# applie# to the purposes of "irtue or "ice$ &he plot is ai#e# by the amorous importunities of Cloten, by the tragical #etermination of )achimo to conceal the #efeat of his project by a #aring imposture5 the faithful attachment of Pisanio to his mistress is an affecting accompaniment to the !holeL the obstinate a#herence to his purpose in %ellarius, !ho keeps the fate of the young princes so long a secret in resentment for the ungrateful return to his former ser"ices, the incorrigible !icke#ness of the Fueen, an# e"en the blin# u/orious confi#ence of Cymbeline, are all so many lines of the same story, ten#ing to the same point$ &he effect of this coinci#ence is rather felt than obser"e#L an# as the impression e/ists unconsciously in the min# of the rea#er, so it probably arose in the same manner in the min# of the author, not from #esign, but from the force of natural association, a particular train of feeling suggesting #ifferent inflections of the same pre#ominant principle, melting into, an# strengthening one another, like chor#s in music$ &he characters of %ellarius, Gui#erius, an# 6r"iragus, an# the romantic scenes in !hich they appear, are a fine relief to the intrigues an# artificial refinements of the court from !hich they are banishe#$ Bothing can surpass the !il#ness an# simplicity of the #escriptions of the mountain life they lea#$ &hey follo! the business of huntsmen, not of shepher#sL an# this is in keeping !ith the spirit of a#"enture an# uncertainty in the rest of the story, an# !ith the scenes in !hich they are after!ar#s calle# on to act$ Ho! a#mirably the youthful fire an# impatience to emerge from their obscurity in the young princes is oppose# to the cooler calculations an# pru#ent resignation of their more e/perience# counsellor4 Ho! !ell the #isa#"antages of kno!le#ge an# of ignorance, of solitu#e an# society, are place# against each other4 Gui#erius$ ?ut of your proof you speak5 !e poor unfle#g'# Ha"e ne"er !ing'# from "ie! o' th' nestL nor kno! not What air's from home$ Haply this life is best, )f Muiet life is bestL s!eeter to you &hat ha"e a sharper kno!nL !ell correspon#ing With your stiff age5 but unto us it is 6 cell of ignoranceL tra"elling aGbe#, 6 prison for a #ebtor, that not #ares

&o stri#e a limit$ 6r"iragus$ What shoul# !e speak of When !e are ol# as youN When !e shall hear &he rain an# !in# beat #ark 'ecember4 Ho!, )n this our pinching ca"e, shall !e #iscourse &he freezing hours a!ayN We ha"e seen nothing$ We are beastlyL subtle as the fo/ for prey, >ike !arlike as the !olf for !hat !e eat5 ?ur "alour is to chase !hat fliesL our cage We make a Muire, as #oth the prison'# bir#, 6n# sing our bon#age freely$ &he ans!er of %ellarius to this e/postulation is har#ly satisfactoryL for nothing can be an ans!er to hope, or the passion of the min# for unkno!n goo#, but e/perience$GG&he forest of 6r#en in 6s *ou >ike )t can alone compare !ith the mountain scenes in Cymbeline5 yet ho! #ifferent the contemplati"e Muiet of the one from the enterprising bol#ness an# precarious mo#e of subsistence in the other4 Shakespeare not only lets us into the min#s of his characters, but gi"es a tone an# colour to the scenes he #escribes from the feelings of their imaginary inhabitants$ He at the same time preser"es the utmost propriety of action an# passion, an# gi"es all their local accompaniments$ )f he !as eMual to the greatest things, he !as not abo"e an attention to the smallest$ &hus the gallant sportsmen in Cymbeline ha"e to encounter the abrupt #ecli"ities of hill an# "alley5 &ouchstone an# 6u#rey jog along a le"el path$ &he #eer in Cymbeline are only regar#e# as objects of prey, '&he game's aGfoot', Oc$GG!ith @aMues they are fine subjects to moralize upon at leisure, 'un#er the sha#e of melancholy boughs'$ We cannot take lea"e of this play, !hich is a fa"ourite !ith us, !ithout noticing some occasional touches of natural piety an# morality$ We may allu#e here to the opening of the scene in !hich %ellarius instructs the young princes to pay their orisons to hea"en5 GGSee, %oys4 this gate )nstructs you ho! t' a#ore the Hea"'nsL an# bo!s you &o morning's holy office$ Gui#erius$ Hail, Hea"'n4 6r"iragus$ Hail, Hea"'n4 %ellarius$ Bo! for our mountainGsport, up to yon hill$ What a grace an# unaffecte# spirit of piety breathes in this passage4 )n like manner, one of the brothers says to the other, !hen about to perform the funeral rites to ,i#ele5 Bay, Ca#!all, !e must lay his hea# to the eastL Dy ,ather hath a reason for't$ Shakespeare's morality is intro#uce# in the same simple, unobtrusi"e manner$ )mogen !ill not let her companions stay a!ay from the chase to atten# her !hen sick, an# gi"es her reason for it5

Stick to your journal courseL &H. %0.6CH ?, CAS&?D )S %0.6CH ?, 6>>4 When the Fueen attempts to #isguise her moti"es for procuring the poison from Cornelius, by saying she means to try its effects on 'creatures not !orth the hanging', his ans!er con"eys at once a tacit reproof of her hypocrisy, an# a useful lesson of humanity5 GG*our Highness Shall from this practice but make har# your heart$

D6C%.&H &he poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling 'oth glance from hea"en to earth, from earth to hea"enL 6n# as imagination bo#ies forth &he forms of things unkno!n, the poet's pen &urns them to shape, an# gi"es to airy nothing 6 local habitation an# a name$ D6C%.&H an# >ear, ?thello an# Hamlet, are usually reckone# Shakespeare's four principal trage#ies$ >ear stan#s first for the profoun# intensity of the passionL Dacbeth for the !il#ness of the imagination an# the rapi#ity of the actionL ?thello for the progressi"e interest an# po!erful alternations of feelingL Hamlet for the refine# #e"elopment of thought an# sentiment$ )f the force of genius sho!n in each of these !orks is astonishing, their "ariety is not less so$ &hey are like #ifferent creations of the same min#, not one of !hich has the slightest reference to the rest$ &his #istinctness an# originality is in#ee# the necessary conseMuence of truth an# nature$ Shakespeare's genius alone appeare# to possess the resources of nature$ He is 'your only trage#yGmaker'$ His plays ha"e the force of things upon the min#$ What he represents is brought home to the bosom as a part of our e/perience, implante# in the memory as if !e ha# kno!n the places, persons, an# things of !hich he treats$ Dacbeth is like a recor# of a preternatural an# tragical e"ent$ )t has the rugge# se"erity of an ol# chronicle !ith all that the imagination of the poet can engraft upon tra#itional belief$ &he castle of Dacbeth, roun# !hich 'the air smells !ooingly', an# !here 'the templeGhaunting martlet buil#s', has a real subsistence in the min#L the Weir# Sisters meet us in person on 'the blaste# heath'L the 'airG#ra!n #agger' mo"es slo!ly before our eyesL the 'gracious 'uncan', the 'bloo#Gboltere# %anMuo' stan# before usL all that passe# through the min# of Dacbeth passes, !ithout the loss of a tittle, through ours$ 6ll that coul# actually take place, an# all that is only posGsible to be concei"e#, !hat !as sai# an# !hat !as #one, the !orkings of passion, the spells of magic, are brought before us !ith the same absolute truth an# "i"i#ness$GShakespeare e/celle# in the openings of his plays5 that of Dacbeth is the most striking of any$ &he !il#ness of the scenery, the su##en shifting of the situations an# characters, the bustle, the e/pectations e/cite#,

are eMually e/traor#inary$ ,rom the first entrance of the Witches an# the #escription of them !hen they meet Dacbeth5 GGWhat are these So !ither'# an# so !il# in their attire, &hat look not like the inhabitants of th' earth 6n# yet are on'tN the min# is prepare# for all that follo!s$ &his trage#y is alike #istinguishe# for the lofty imagination it #isplays, an# for the tumultuous "ehemence of the actionL an# the one is ma#e the mo"ing principle of the other$ &he o"er!helming pressure of preternatural agency urges on the ti#e of human passion !ith re#ouble# force$ Dacbeth himself appears #ri"en along by the "iolence of his fate like a "essel #rifting before a storm5 he reels to an# fro like a #runken manL he staggers un#er the !eight of his o!n purposes an# the suggestions of othersL he stan#s at bay !ith his situationL an# from the superstitious a!e an# breathless suspense into !hich the communications of the Weir# Sisters thro! him, is hurrie# on !ith #aring impatience to "erify their pre#ictions, an# !ith impious an# bloo#y han# to tear asi#e the "eil !hich hi#es the uncertainty of the future$ He is not eMual to the struggle !ith fate an# conscience$ He no! 'ben#s up each corporal instrument to the terrible feat'L at other times his heart misgi"es him, an# he is co!e# an# abashe# by his success$ '&he #ee#, no less than the attempt, confoun#s him$' His min# is assaile# by the stings of remorse, an# full of 'preternatural solicitings'$ His speeches an# soliloMuies are #ark ri##les on human life, baffling solution, an# entangling him in their labyrinths$ )n thought he is absent an# perple/e#, su##en an# #esperate in act, from a #istrust of his o!n resolution$ His energy springs from the an/iety an# agitation of his min#$ His blin#ly rushing for!ar# on the objects of his ambition an# re"enge, or his recoiling from them, eMually betrays the harasse# state of his feelings$GG&his part of his character is a#mirably set off by being brought in conne/ion !ith that of >a#y Dacbeth, !hose ob#urate strength of !ill an# masculine firmness gi"e her the ascen#ancy o"er her husban#'s faltering "irtue$ She at once seizes on the opportunity that offers for the accomplishment of all their !ishe#Gfor greatness, an# ne"er flinches from her object till all is o"er$ &he magnitu#e of her resolution almost co"ers the magnitu#e of her guilt$ She is a great ba# !oman, !hom !e hate, but !hom !e fear more than !e hate$ She #oes not e/cite our loathing an# abhorrence like 0egan an# Goneril$ She is only !icke# to gain a great en#L an# is perhaps more #istinguishe# by her comman#ing presence of min# an# ine/orable selfG!ill, !hich #o not suffer her to be #i"erte# from a ba# purpose, !hen once forme#, by !eak an# !omanly regrets, than by the har#ness of her heart or !ant of natural affections$ &he impression !hich her lofty #etermination of character makes on the min# of Dacbeth is !ell #escribe# !here he e/claims5 GG%ring forth men chil#ren onlyL ,or thy un#aunte# mettle shoul# compose Bothing but males4 Bor #o the pains she is at to 'scre! his courage to the stickingG place', the reproach to him, not to be 'lost so poorly in himself',

the assurance that 'a little !ater clears them of this #ee#', sho! anything but her greater consistency in #epra"ity$ Her strongGner"e# ambition furnishes ribs of steel to 'the si#es of his intent'L an# she is herself !oun# up to the e/ecution of her baneful project !ith the same unshrinking fortitu#e in crime, that in other circumstances she !oul# probably ha"e sho!n patience in suffering$ &he #eliberate sacrifice of all other consi#erations to the gaining 'for their future #ays an# nights sole so"ereign s!ay an# master#om', by the mur#er of 'uncan, is gorgeously e/presse# in her in"ocation on hearing of 'his fatal entrance un#er her battlements'5 GGCome all you spirits &hat ten# on mortal thoughts, unse/ me here5 6n# fill me, from the cro!n to th' toe, topGfull ?f #irest crueltyL make thick my bloo#, Stop up the access an# passage of remorse, &hat no compunctious "isitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace bet!een &he effect an# it$ Come to my !oman's breasts, 6n# take my milk for gall, you murthering ministers, Where"er in your sightless substances *ou !ait on nature's mischief$ Come, thick night4 6n# pall thee in the #unnest smoke of hell, &hat my keen knife see not the !oun# it makes, Bor hea"'n peep through the blanket of the #ark, &o cry, hol#, hol#4GG When she first hears that ''uncan comes there to sleep' she is so o"ercome by the ne!s, !hich is beyon# her utmost e/pectations, that she ans!ers the messenger, '&hou'rt ma# to say it'5 an# on recei"ing her husban#'s account of the pre#ictions of the Witches, conscious of his instability of purpose, an# that her presence is necessary to goa# him on to the consummation of his promise# greatness, she e/claims5 GGHie thee hither, &hat ) may pour my spirits in thine ear, 6n# chastise !ith me "alour of my tongue 6ll that impe#es thee from the gol#en roun#, Which fate an# metaphysical ai# #oth seem &o ha"e thee cro!ne# !ithal$ &his s!elling e/ultation an# keen spirit of triumph, this uncontrollable eagerness of anticipation, !hich seems to #ilate her form an# take possession of all her faculties, this soli#, substantial fleshGan#Gbloo# #isplay of passion, e/hibit a striking contrast to the col#, abstracte#, gratuitous, ser"ile malignity of the Witches, !ho are eMually instrumental in urging Dacbeth to his fate for the mere lo"e of mischief, an# from a #isintereste# #elight in #eformity an# cruelty$ &hey are hags of mischief, obscene pan#ers to iniMuity, malicious from their impotence of enjoyment, enamoure# of #estruction, because they are themsel"es unreal, aborti"e, halfG e/istences, an# !ho become sublime from their e/emption from all human sympathies an# contempt for all human affairs, as >a#y Dacbeth #oes by the force of passion4 Her fault seems to ha"e been an e/cess of that strong principle of selfGinterest an# family aggran#izement, not amenable to the common feelings of compassion an# justice, !hich

is so marke# a feature in barbarous nations an# times$ 6 passing reflection of this kin#, on the resemblance of the sleeping king to her father, alone pre"ents her from slaying 'uncan !ith her o!n han#$ )n speaking of the character of >a#y Dacbeth, !e ought not to pass o"er Drs$ Si##ons's manner of acting that part$ We can concei"e of nothing gran#er$ )t !as something abo"e nature$ )t seeme# almost as if a being of a superior or#er ha# #roppe# from a higher sphere to a!e the !orl# !ith the majesty of her appearance$ Po!er !as seate# on her bro!, passion emanate# from her breast as from a shrineL she !as trage#y personifie#$ )n coming on in the sleepingGscene, her eyes !ere open, but their sense !as shut$ She !as like a person be!il#ere# an# unconscious of !hat she #i#$ Her lips mo"e# in"oluntarilyGGall her gestures !ere in"oluntary an# mechanical$ She gli#e# on an# off the stage like an apparition$ &o ha"e seen her in that character !as an e"ent in e"ery one's life, not to be forgotten$ &he #ramatic beauty of the character of 'uncan, !hich e/cites the respect an# pity e"en of his mur#erers, has been often pointe# out$ )t forms a picture of itself$ 6n instance of the author's po!er of gi"ing a striking effect to a common reflection, by the manner of intro#ucing it, occurs in a speech of 'uncan, complaining of his ha"ing been #ecei"e# in his opinion of the &hane of Ca!#or, at the "ery moment that he is e/pressing the most unboun#e# confi#ence in the loyalty an# ser"ices of Dacbeth$ &here is no art &o fin# the min#'s construction in the face5 He !as a gentleman, on !hom ) built 6n absolute trust$ ? !orthiest cousin, :a##ressing himself to Dacbeth= &he sin of my ingratitu#e e'en no! Was great upon me, Oc$ 6nother passage to sho! that Shakespeare lost sight of nothing that coul# in any!ay gi"e relief or heightening to his subject, is the con"ersation !hich takes place bet!een %anMuo an# ,leance imme#iately before the mur#erGscene of 'uncan$ %anMuo$ Ho! goes the night, boyN ,leance$ &he moon is #o!n5 ) ha"e not hear# the clock$ %anMuo$ 6n# she goes #o!n at t!el"e$ ,leance$ ) take't, tis later, Sir$ %anMuo$ Hol#, take my s!or#$ &here's husban#ry in hea"'n, &heir can#les are all out$GG 6 hea"y summons lies like lea# upon me, 6n# yet ) !oul# not sleep5 Derciful Po!ers, 0estrain in me the curse# thoughts that nature Gi"es !ay to in repose$ )n like manner, a fine i#ea is gi"en of the gloomy coming on of

e"ening, just as %anMuo is going to be assassinate#$ >ight thickens an# the cro! Dakes !ing to the rooky !oo#$ $ $ $ $ $ Bo! spurs the late# tra"eller apace &o gain the timely inn$ Dacbeth Igenerally speakingJ is #one upon a stronger an# more systematic principle of contrast than any other of Shakespeare's plays$ )t mo"es upon the "erge of an abyss, an# is a constant struggle bet!een life an# #eath$ &he action is #esperate an# the reaction is #rea#ful$ )t is a hu##ling together of fierce e/tremes, a !ar of opposite natures !hich of them shall #estroy the other$ &here is nothing but !hat has a "iolent en# or "iolent beginnings$ &he lights an# sha#es are lai# on !ith a #etermine# han#L the transitions from triumph to #espair, from the height of terror to the repose of #eath, are su##en an# startlingL e"ery passion brings in its fello!Gcontrary, an# the thoughts pitch an# jostle against each other as in the #ark$ &he !hole play is an unruly chaos of strange an# forbi##en things, !here the groun# rocks un#er our feet$ Shakespeare's genius here took its full s!ing, an# tro# upon the furthest boun#s of nature an# passion$ &his circumstance !ill account tor the abruptness an# "iolent antitheses of the style, the throes an# labour !hich run through the e/pression, an# from #efects !ill turn them into beauties$ 'So fair an# foul a #ay ) ha"e not seen,' Oc$ 'Such !elcome an# un!elcome ne!s together$' 'Den's li"es are like the flo!ers in their caps, #ying or ere they sicken$' '>ook like the innocent flo!er, but be the serpent un#er it$' &he scene before the castleGgate follo!s the appearance of the Witches on the heath, an# is follo!e# by a mi#night mur#er$ 'uncan is cut off betimes by treason league# !ith !itchcraft, an# Dac#uff is rippe# untimely from his mother's !omb to a"enge his #eath$ Dacbeth, after the #eath of %anMuo, !ishes for his presence in e/tra"agant terms, '&o him an# all !e thirst,' an# !hen his ghost appears, cries out, '6"aunt an# Muit my sight,' an# being gone, he is 'himself again'$ Dacbeth resol"es to get ri# of Dac#uff, that 'he may sleep in spite of thun#er'L an# cheers his !ife on the #oubtful intelligence of %anMuo's takingGoff !ith the encouragementGG'&hen be thou jocun#5 ere the bat has flo!n his cloistere# flightL ere to black Hecate's summons the shar#Gborn beetle has rung night's ya!ning peal, there shall be #oneGGa #ee# of #rea#ful note$' )n >a#y Dacbeth's speech, 'Ha# he not resemble# my father as he slept, ) ha# #one't,' there is mur#er an# filial piety together, an# in urging him to fulfil his "engeance against the #efenceless king, her thoughts spare the bloo# neither of infants nor ol# age$ &he #escription of the Witches is full of the same contra#ictory principleL they 'rejoice !hen goo# kings blee#'L they are neither of the earth nor the air, but bothL 'they shoul# be !omen, but their bear#s forbi# it'L they take all the pains possible to lea# Dacbeth on to the height of his ambition, only to betray him in #eeper conseMuence, an# after sho!ing him all the pomp of their art, #isco"er their malignant #elight in his #isappointe# hopes, by that bitter taunt, 'Why stan#s Dacbeth thus amaze#lyN' We might multiply such instances e"ery!here$ &he lea#ing features in the character of Dacbeth are striking enough, an# they form !hat may be thought at first only a bol#,

ru#e, Gothic outline$ %y comparing it !ith other characters of the same author !e shall percei"e the absolute truth an# i#entity !hich is obser"e# in the mi#st of the gi##y !hirl an# rapi# career of e"ents$ Dacbeth in Shakespeare no more loses his i#entity of character in the fluctuations of fortune or the storm of passion, than Dacbeth in himself !oul# ha"e lost the i#entity of his person$ &hus he is as #istinct a being from 0ichar# ))) as it is possible to imagine, though these t!o characters in common han#s, an# in#ee# in the han#s of any other poet, !oul# ha"e been a repetition of the same general i#ea, more or less e/aggerate#$ ,or both are tyrants, usurpers, mur#erers, both aspiring an# ambitious, both courageous, cruel, treacherous$ %ut 0ichar# is cruel from nature an# constitution$ Dacbeth becomes so from acci#ental circumstances$ 0ichar# is from his birth #eforme# in bo#y an# min#, an# naturally incapable of goo#$ Dacbeth is full of 'the milk of human kin#ness, is frank, sociable, generous$ He is tempte# to the commission of guilt by gol#en opportunities, by the instigations of his !ife, an# by prophetic !arnings$ ,ate an# metaphysical ai# conspire against his "irtue an# his loyalty$ 0ichar#, on the contrary, nee#s no prompter, but !a#es through a series of crimes to the height of his ambition from the ungo"ernable "iolence of his temper an# a reckless lo"e of mischief$ He is ne"er gay but in the prospect or in the success of his "illaniesL Dacbeth is full of horror at the thoughts of the mur#er of 'uncan, !hich he is !ith #ifficulty pre"aile# on to commit, an# of remorse after its perpetration$ 0ichar# has no mi/ture of common humanity in his composition, no regar# to kin#re# or posterity, he o!ns no fello!ship !ith others, he is 'himself alone'$ Dacbeth is not #estitute of feelings of sympathy, is accessible to pity, is e"en ma#e in some measure the #upe of his u/oriousness, ranks the loss of frien#s, of the cor#ial lo"e of his follo!ers, an# of his goo# name, among the causes !hich ha"e ma#e him !eary of life, an# regrets that he has e"er seize# the cro!n by unjust means, since he cannot transmit it to his o!n posterity5 ,or %anMuo's issue ha"e ) 'fil'# my min#GG ,or them the gracious 'uncan ha"e ) murther'#, &o make them kings, the see# of %anMuo kings$ )n the agitation of his thoughts, he en"ies those !hom he has sent to peace$ ''uncan is in his gra"eL after life's fitful fe"er he sleeps !ell$' )t is true, he becomes more callous as he plunges #eeper in guilt, '#ireness is thus ren#ere# familiar to his slaughterous thoughts', an# he in the en# anticipates his !ife in the bol#ness an# bloo#iness of his enterprises, !hile she, for !ant of the same stimulus of action, is 'trouble# !ith thickGcoming fancies that rob her of her rest', goes ma# an# #ies$ Dacbeth en#ea"ours to escape from reflection on his crimes by repelling their conseMuences, an# banishes remorse for the past by the me#itation of future mischief$ &his is not the principle of 0ichar#'s cruelty, !hich resembles the !anton malice of a fien# as much as the frailty of human passion$ Dacbeth is goa#e# on to acts of "iolence an# retaliation by necessityL to 0ichar#, bloo# is a pastime$GG&here are other #ecisi"e #ifferences inherent in the t!o characters$ 0ichar# may be regar#e# as a man of the !orl#, a plotting, har#ene# kna"e, !holly regar#less of e"erything but his o!n en#s, an# the means to secure them$GGBot so Dacbeth$ &he

superstitions of the age, the ru#e state of society, the local scenery an# customs, all gi"e a !il#ness an# imaginary gran#eur to his character$ ,rom the strangeness of the e"ents that surroun# him, he is full of amazement an# fearL an# stan#s in #oubt bet!een the !orl# of reality an# the !orl# of fancy$ He sees sights not sho!n to mortal eye, an# hears unearthly music$ 6ll is tumult an# #isor#er !ithin an# !ithout his min#L his purposes recoil upon himself, are broken an# #isjointe#L he is the #ouble thrall of his passions an# his e"il #estiny$ 0ichar# is not a character either of imagination or pathos, but of pure selfG!ill$ &here is no conflict of opposite feelings in his breast$ &he apparitions !hich he sees only haunt him in his sleepL nor #oes he li"e like Dacbeth in a !aking #ream$ Dacbeth has consi#erable energy an# manliness of characterL but then he is 'subject to all the skyey influences'$ He is sure of nothing but the present moment$ 0ichar# in the busy turbulence of his projects ne"er loses his selfGpossession, an# makes use of e"ery circumstance that happens as an instrument of his longGreaching #esigns$ )n his last e/tremity !e can only regar# him as a !il# beast taken in the toils5 !e ne"er entirely lose our concern for DacbethL an# he calls back all our sympathy by that fine close of thoughtful melancholy5 Dy !ay of life is fallen into the sear, &he yello! leafL an# that !hich shoul# accompany ol# age, 6s honour, troops of frien#s, ) must not look to ha"eL %ut in their stea#, curses not lou# but #eep, DouthGhonour, breath, !hich the poor heart Woul# fain #eny an# #are not$ We can concei"e a common actor to play 0ichar# tolerably !ellL !e can concei"e no one to play Dacbeth properly, or to look like a man that ha# encountere# the Weir# Sisters$ 6ll the actors that !e ha"e e"er seen, appear as if they ha# encountere# them on the boar#s of Co"ent Gar#en or 'rury >ane, but not on the heath at ,ores, an# as if they #i# not belie"e !hat they ha# seen$ &he Witches of Dacbeth in#ee# are ri#iculous on the mo#ern stage, an# !e #oubt if the furies of 6eschylus !oul# be more respecte#$ &he progress of manners an# kno!le#ge has an influence on the stage, an# !ill in time perhaps #estroy both trage#y an# come#y$ ,ilch's picking pockets, in the %eggars' ?pera, is not so goo# a jest as it use# to be5 by the force of the police an# of philosophy, >illo's mur#ers an# the ghosts in Shakespeare !ill become obsolete$ 6t last there !ill be nothing left, goo# nor ba#, to be #esire# or #rea#e#, on the theatre or in real life$ 6 Muestion has been starte# !ith respect to the originality of Shakespeare's Witches, !hich has been !ell ans!ere# by Dr$ >amb in his notes to the Specimens of .arly 'ramatic Poetry5 (&hough some resemblance may be trace# bet!een the charms in Dacbeth an# the incantations in this play Ithe Witch of Di##letonJ, !hich is suppose# to ha"e prece#e# it, this coinci#ence !ill not #etract much from the originality of Shakespeare$ His Witches are #istinguishe# from the Witches of Di##leton by essential #ifferences$ &hese are creatures to !hom man or !oman plotting some #ire mischief might resort for occasional consultation$ &hose originate #ee#s of bloo#, an# begin ba# impulses to men$ ,rom the moment that their eyes first meet !ith Dacbeth's, he is spellboun#$ &hat meeting s!ays his #estiny$ He can ne"er break the fascination$ &hese Witches can hurt

the bo#yL those ha"e po!er o"er the soul$GGHecate in Di##leton has a son, a lo! buffoon5 the hags of Shakespeare ha"e neither chil# of their o!n, nor seem to be #escen#e# from any parent$ &hey are foul anomalies, of !hom !e kno! not !hence they are sprung, nor !hether they ha"e beginning or en#ing$ 6s they are !ithout human passions, so they seem to be !ithout human relations$ &hey come !ith thun#er an# lightning, an# "anish to airy music$ &his is all !e kno! of them$GG./cept Hecate, they ha"e no names, !hich heightens their mysteriousness$ &he names, an# some of the properties !hich Di##leton has gi"en to his hags, e/cite smiles$ &he Weir# Sisters are serious things$ &heir presence cannot coGe/ist !ith mirth$ %ut, in a lesser #egree, the Witches of Di##leton are fine creations$ &heir po!er too is, in some measure, o"er the min#$ &hey raise jars, jealousies, strifes, '>)C. 6 &H)CC SCA0, ?'.0 >),.$'

@A>)AS C6S.S60 @A>)AS C6.S60 !as one of three principal plays by #ifferent authors, pitche# upon by the celebrate# .arl of Halifa/ to be brought out in a splen#i# manner by subscription, in the year 1383$ &he other t!o !ere the Cing an# Bo Cing of ,letcher, an# 'ry#en's Dai#en Fueen$ &here perhaps might be political reasons for this selection, as far as regar#s our author$ ?ther!ise, Shakespeare's @ulius Caesar is not eMual, as a !hole, to either of his other plays taken from the 0oman history$ )t is inferior in interest to Coriolanus, an# both in interest an# po!er to 6ntony an# Cleopatra$ )t, ho!e"er, aboun#s in a#mirable an# affecting passages, an# is remarkable for the profoun# kno!le#ge of character, in !hich Shakespeare coul# scarcely fail$ )f there is any e/ception to this remark, it is in the hero of the piece himself$ We #o not much a#mire the representation here gi"en of @ulius Caesar, nor #o !e think it ans!ers to the portrait gi"en of him in his Commentaries$ He makes se"eral "apouring an# rather pe#antic speeches, an# #oes nothing$ )n#ee#, he has nothing to #o$ So far, the fault of the character might be the fault of the plot$ &he spirit !ith !hich the poet has entere# at once into the manners of the common people, an# the jealousies an# heartburnings of the #ifferent factions, is sho!n in the first scene, !hen ,la"ius an# Darullus, tribunes of the people, an# some citizens of 0ome, appear upon the stage$ ,la"ius$ &hou art a cobbler, art thouN Cobbler$ &ruly, Sir, 6>> that ) li"e by, is the 6W>5 ) me##le !ith no tra#esman's matters, nor !oman's matters, but !ithGal, ) am in#ee#, Sir, a surgeon to ol# shoesL !hen they are in great #anger, ) reco"er them$ ,la"ius$ %ut !herefore art not in thy shop toG#ayN Why #ost thou lea# these men about the streetsN Cobbler$ &ruly, Sir, to !ear out their shoes, to get myself

into more !ork$ %ut in#ee#$ Sir, !e make holi#ay to see Caesar, an# rejoice in his triumph$ &o this specimen of Muaint lo! humour imme#iately follo!s that une/pecte# an# animate# burst of in#ignant eloMuence, put into the mouth of one of the angry tribunes$ Darullus$ Wherefore rejoice4GGWhat conMuest brings he homeN What tributaries follo! him to 0ome, &o grace in capti"eGbon#s his chariotG!heelsN ?h you har# hearts, you cruel men of 0ome4 Cne! you not PompeyN Dany a time an# oft Ha"e you climb'# up to !alls an# battlements, &o to!ers an# !in#o!s, yea, to chimneyGtops, *our infants in your arms, an# there ha"e sat &he li"eGlong #ay !ith patient e/pectation, &o see great Pompey pass the streets of 0ome5 6n# !hen you sa! his chariot but appear, Ha"e you not ma#e an uni"ersal shout, &hat &iber tremble# un#erneath his banks &o hear the replication of your soun#s, Da#e in his conca"e shoresN 6n# #o you no! put on your best attireN 6n# #o you no! cull out an holi#ayN 6n# #o you no! stre! flo!ers in his !ay &hat comes in triumph o"er Pompey's bloo#N %egoneGG 0un to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the Go#s to intermit the plague, &hat nee#s must light on this ingratitu#e$ &he !ellGkno!n #ialogue bet!een %rutus an# Cassius, in !hich the latter breaks the #esign of the conspiracy to the former, an# partly gains him o"er to it, is a noble piece of highGmin#e# #eclamation$ Cassius's insisting on the preten#e# effeminacy of Caesar's character, an# his #escription of their s!imming across the &iber together, 'once upon a ra! an# gusty #ay', are among the finest strokes in it$ %ut perhaps the !hole is not eMual to the short scene !hich follo!s !hen Caesar enters !ith his train$ %rutus$ &he games are #one, an# Caesar is returning$ Cassius$ 6s they pass by, pluck Casca by the slee"e, 6n# he !ill, after his sour fashion, tell you What has procee#e# !orthy note toG#ay$ %rutus$ ) !ill #o soL but look you, CassiusGG &he angry spot #oth glo! on Caesar's bro!, 6n# all the rest look like a chi##en train$ Calphurnia's cheek is paleL an# Cicero >ooks !ith such ferret an# such fiery eyes, 6s !e ha"e seen him in the Capitol, %eing crost in conference by some senators$ Cassius$ Casca !ill tell us !hat the matter is$ Caesar$ 6ntoniusGG

6ntony$ CaesarN Caesar$ >et me ha"e men about me that are fat, SleekGhea#e# men, an# such as sleep aGnights5 *on# Cassius has a lean an# hungry look, He thinks too muchL such men are #angerous$ 6ntony$ ,ear him not, Caesar, he's not #angerousL He is a noble 0oman, an# !ell gi"en$ Caesar$ Woul# he !ere fatterL but ) fear him not5 *et if my name !ere liable to fear, ) #o not kno! the man ) shoul# a"oi# So soon as that spare Cassius$ He rea#s muchL He is a great obser"erL an# he looks Fuite through the #ee#s of men$ He lo"es no plays, 6s thou #ost, 6ntonyL he hears no musicL Sel#om he smiles, an# smiles in such a sort, 6s if he mock'# himself, an# scorn'# his spirit, &hat coul# be mo"'# to smile at any thing$ Such men as he be ne"er at heart's ease, Whilst they behol# a greater than themsel"esL 6n# therefore are they "ery #angerous$ ) rather tell thee !hat is to be fear'# &han !hat ) fearL for al!ays ) am Caesar$ Come on my right han#, for this ear is #eaf, 6n# tell me truly !hat thou think'st of him$ We kno! har#ly any passage more e/pressi"e of the genius of Shakespeare than this$ )t is as if he ha# been actually present, ha# kno!n the #ifferent characters an# !hat they thought of one another, an# ha# taken #o!n !hat he hear# an# sa!, their looks, !or#s, an# gestures, just as they happene#$ &he character of Dark 6ntony is further speculate# upon !here the conspirators #eliberate !hether he shall fall !ith Caesar$ %rutus is against it5 6n# for Dark 6ntony, think not of him5 ,or (he can #o no more than Caesar's arm, When Caesar's hea# is off$( Cassius$ *et #o ) fear him5 ,or in th' ingrafte# lo"e he bears to CaesarGG %rutus$ 6las, goo# Cassius, #o not think of him5 )f he lo"e Caesar, all that he can #o )s to himself, take thought, an# #ie for Caesar5 6n# that !ere much, he shoul#L for he is gi"'n &o sports, to !il#ness, an# much company$ &rebonius$ &here is no fear in himL let him not #ie$ ,or he !ill li"e, an# laugh at this hereafter$ &hey !ere in the !rongL an# Cassius !as right$

&he honest manliness of %rutus is, ho!e"er, sufficient to fin# out the unfitness of Cicero to be inclu#e# in their enterprise, from his affecte# egotism an# literary "anity$ ?, name him not5 let us not break !ith himL ,or he !ill ne"er follo! any thing, &hat other men begin$ His scepticism as to pro#igies an# his moralizing on the !eatherGG (&his #isturbe# sky is not to !alk in(GGare in the same spirit of refine# imbecility$ Shakespeare has in this play an# else!here sho!n the same penetration into political character an# the springs of public e"ents as into those of e"ery#ay life$ ,or instance, the !hole #esign to liberate their country fails from the generous temper an# o"er!eening confi#ence of %rutus in the goo#ness of their cause an# the assistance of others$ &hus it has al!ays been$ &hose !ho mean !ell themsel"es think !ell of others, an# fall a prey to their security$ &hat humanity an# sincerity !hich #ispose men to resist injustice an# tyranny ren#er them unfit to cope !ith the cunning an# po!er of those !ho are oppose# to them$ &he frien#s of liberty trust to the professions of others because they are themsel"es sincere, an# en#ea"our to secure the public goo# !ith the least possible hurt to its enemies, !ho ha"e no regar# to anything but their o!n unprinciple# en#s, an# stick at nothing to accomplish them$ Cassius !as better cut out for a conspirator$ His heart prompte# his hea#$ His habitual jealousy ma#e him fear the !orst that might happen, an# his irritability of temper a##e# to his in"eteracy of purpose, an# sharpene# his patriotism$ &he mi/e# nature of his moti"es ma#e him fitter to conten# !ith ba# men$ &he "ices are ne"er so !ell employe# as in combating one another$ &yranny an# ser"ility are to be #ealt !ith after their o!n fashion5 other!ise, they !ill triumph o"er those !ho spare them, an# finally pronounce their funeral panegyric, as 6ntony #i# that of %rutus$ 6ll the conspirators, sa"e only he, 'i# that they #i# in en"y of great Caesar5 He only in a general honest thought 6n# common goo# to all, ma#e one of them$ &he Muarrel bet!een %rutus an# Cassius is manage# in a masterly !ay$ &he #ramatic fluctuation of passion, the calmness of %rutus, the heat of Cassius, are a#mirably #escribe#L an# the e/clamation of Cassius on hearing of the #eath of Portia, !hich he #oes not learn till after the reconciliation, 'Ho! 'scap'# ) killing !hen ) crost you soN' gi"es #ouble force to all that has gone before$ &he scene bet!een %rutus an# Portia, !here she en#ea"ours to e/tort the secret of the conspiracy from him, is concei"e# in the most heroical spirit, an# the burst of ten#erness in %rutus5 *ou are my true an# honourable !ifeL 6s #ear to me as are the ru##y #rops &hat "isit my sa# heartGG is justifie# by her !hole beha"iour$ Portia's breathless impatience to learn the e"ent of the conspiracy, in the #ialogue !ith >ucius, is full of passion$ &he interest !hich Portia takes in %rutus an#

that !hich Calphurnia takes in the fate of Caesar are #iscriminate# !ith the nicest precision$ Dark 6ntony's speech o"er the #ea# bo#y of Caesar has been justly a#mire# for the mi/ture of pathos an# artifice in it5 that of %rutus certainly is not so goo#$ &he entrance of the conspirators to the house of %rutus at mi#night is ren#ere# "ery impressi"e$ )n the mi#st of this scene !e meet !ith one of those careless an# natural #igressions !hich occur so freMuently an# beautifully in Shakespeare$ 6fter Cassius has intro#uce# his frien#s one by one, %rutus says5 &hey are all !elcome$ What !atchful cares #o interpose themsel"es %et!i/t your eyes an# nightN Cassius$ Shall ) entreat a !or#N :&hey !hisper$=

'ecius$ Here lies the east5 #oth not the #ay break hereN Casca$ Bo$ Cinna$ ? par#on, Sir, it #othL an# yon grey lines, &hat fret the clou#s, are messengers of #ay$ Casca$ *ou shall confess, that you are both #ecei"'#5 Here, as ) point my s!or#, the sun arises, Which is a great !ay gro!ing on the south, Weighing the youthful, season of the year$ Some t!o months hence, up higher to!ar# the north He first presents his fire, an# the high east Stan#s as the Capitol, #irectly here$ We cannot help thinking this graceful familiarity better than all the formality in the !orl#$ &he truth of history in @ulius Caesar is "ery ably !orke# up !ith #ramatic effect$ &he councils of generals, the #oubtful turns of battles, are represente# to the life$ &he #eath of %rutus is !orthy of himGGit has the #ignity of the 0oman senator !ith the firmness of the Stoic philosopher$ %ut !hat is perhaps better than either, is the little inci#ent of his boy, >ucius, falling asleep o"er his instrument, as he is playing to his master in his tent, the night before the battle$ Bature ha# playe# him the same forgetful trick once before on the night of the conspiracy$ &he humanity of %rutus is the same on both occasions$ GG)t is no matterL .njoy the honeyGhea"y #e! of slumber$ &hou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care #ra!s in the brains of men$ &herefore thou sleep'st so soun#$

?&H.>>?

)t has been sai# that trage#y purifies the affections by terror an# pity$ &hat is, it substitutes imaginary sympathy for mere selfishness$ )t gi"es us a high an# permanent interest, beyon# oursel"es, in humanity as such$ )t raises the great, the remote, an# the possible to an eMuality !ith the real, the little an# the near$ )t makes man a partaker !ith his kin#$ )t sub#ues an# softens the stubbornness of his !ill$ )t teaches him that there are an# ha"e been others like himself, by sho!ing him as in a glass !hat they ha"e felt, thought, an# #one$ )t opens the chambers of the human heart$ )t lea"es nothing in#ifferent to us that can affect our common nature$ )t e/cites our sensibility by e/hibiting the passions !oun# up to the utmost pitch by the po!er of imagination or the temptation of circumstancesL an# corrects their fatal e/cesses in oursel"es by pointing to the greater e/tent of sufferings an# of crimes to !hich they ha"e le# others$ &rage#y creates a balance of the affections$ )t makes us thoughtful spectators in the lists of life$ )t is the refiner of the speciesL a #iscipline of humanity$ &he habitual stu#y of poetry an# !orks of imagination is one chief part of a !ellGgroun#e# e#ucation$ 6 taste for liberal art is necessary to complete the character of a gentleman, Science alone is har# an# mechanical$ )t e/ercises the un#erstan#ing upon things out of oursel"es, !hile it lea"es the affections unemploye#, or engrosse# !ith our o!n imme#iate, narro! interests$GG?&H.>>? furnishes an illustration of these remarks$ )t e/cites our sympathy in an e/traor#inary #egree$ &he moral it con"eys has a closer application to the concerns of human life than that of any other of Shakespeare's plays$ ')t comes #irectly home to the bosoms an# business of men$' &he pathos in >.60 is in#ee# more #rea#ful an# o"erpo!ering5 but it is less natural, an# less of e"ery #ay's occurrence$ We ha"e not the same #egree of sympathy !ith the passions #escribe# in D6C%.&H$ &he interest in H6D>.& is more remote an# refle/$ &hat of ?&H.>>? is at once eMually profoun# an# affecting$ &he picturesMue contrasts of character in this play are almost as remarkable as the #epth of the passion$ &he Door ?thello, the gentle 'es#emona, the "illain )ago, the goo#Gnature# Cassio, the fool 0o#erigo, present a range an# "ariety of character as striking an# palpable as that pro#uce# by the opposition of costume in a picture$ &heir #istinguishing Mualities stan# out to the min#'s eye, so that e"en !hen !e are not thinking of their actions or sentiments, the i#ea of their persons is still as present to us as e"er$ &hese characters an# the images they stamp upon the min# are the farthest asun#er possible, the #istance bet!een them is immense5 yet the compass of kno!le#ge an# in"ention !hich the poet has sho!n in embo#ying these e/treme creations of his genius is only greater than the truth an# felicity !ith !hich he has i#entifie# each character !ith itself, or blen#e# their #ifferent Mualities together in the same story$ What a contrast the character of ?thello forms to that of )ago5 at the same time, the force of conception !ith !hich these t!o figures are oppose# to each other is ren#ere# still more intense by the complete consistency !ith !hich the traits of each character are brought out in a state of the highest finishing$ &he making one black an# the other !hite, the one unprinciple#, the other unfortunate in the e/treme, !oul# ha"e ans!ere# the common purposes of effect, an# satisfie# the ambition of an or#inary painter of character$ Shakespeare has laboure# the finer sha#es of #ifference

in both !ith as much care an# skill as if he ha# ha# to #epen# on the e/ecution alone for the success of his #esign$ ?n the other han#, 'es#emona an# 6emilia are not meant to be oppose# !ith anything like strong contrast to each other$ %oth are, to out!ar# appearance, characters of common life, not more #istinguishe# than !omen usually are, by #ifference of rank an# situation$ &he #ifference of their thoughts an# sentiments is, ho!e"er, lai# as open, their min#s are separate# from each other by signs as plain an# as little to be mistaken as the comple/ions of their husban#s$ &he mo"ement of the passion in ?&H.>>? is e/cee#ingly #ifferent from that of D6C%.&H$ )n D6C%.&H there is a "iolent struggle bet!een opposite feelings, bet!een ambition an# the stings of conscience, almost from first to last5 in ?thello, the #oubtful conflict bet!een contrary passions, though #rea#ful, continues only for a short time, an# the chief interest is e/cite# by the alternate ascen#ancy of #ifferent passions, the entire an# unforeseen change from the fon#est lo"e an# most unboun#e# confi#ence to the tortures of jealousy an# the ma#ness of hatre#$ &he re"enge of ?thello, after it has once taken thorough possession of his min#, ne"er Muits it, but gro!s stronger an# stronger at e"ery moment of its #elay$ &he nature of the Door is noble, confi#ing, ten#er, an# generousL but his bloo# is of the most inflammable kin#L an# being once rouse# by a sense of his !rongs, he is stoppe# by no consi#erations of remorse or pity till he has gi"en a loose to all the #ictates of his rage an# his #espair$ )t is in !orking his noble nature up to this e/tremity through rapi# but gra#ual transitions, in raising passion to its height from the smallest beginnings an# in spite of all obstacles, in painting the e/piring conflict bet!een lo"e an# hatre#, ten#erness an# resentment, jealousy an# remorse, in unfol#ing the strength an# the !eaknesses of our nature, in uniting sublimity of thought !ith the anguish of the keenest !oe, in putting in motion the "arious impulses that agitate this our mortal being, an# at last blen#ing them in that noble ti#e of #eep an# sustaine# passion, impetuous but majestic, that 'flo!s on to the Propontic, an# kno!s no ebb', that Shakespeare has sho!n the mastery of his genius an# of his po!er o"er the human heart$ &he thir# act of ?thello is his masterpiece, not of kno!le#ge or passion separately, but of the t!o combine#, of the kno!le#ge of character !ith the e/pression of passion, of consummate art in the keeping up of appearances !ith the profoun# !orkings of nature, an# the con"ulsi"e mo"ements of uncontrollable agony, of the po!er of inflicting torture an# of suffering it$ Bot only is the tumult of passion hea"e# up from the "ery bottom of the soul, but e"ery the slightest un#ulation of feeling is seen on the surface, as it arises from the impulses of imagination or the #ifferent probabilities maliciously suggeste# by )ago$ &he progressi"e preparation for the catastrophe is !on#erfully manage# from the Door's first gallant recital of the story of his lo"e, of 'the spells an# !itchcraft he ha# use#', from his unlooke#G for an# romantic success, the fon# satisfaction !ith !hich he #otes on his o!n happiness, the unreser"e# ten#erness of 'es#emona an# her innocent importunities in fa"our of Cassio, irritating the suspicions instille# into her husban#'s min# by the perfi#y of lago, an# rankling there to poison, till he loses all comman# of himself, an# his rage can only be appease# by bloo#$ She is intro#uce#, just before lago begins to put his scheme in practice, plea#ing for Cassio !ith all the thoughtless gaiety of frien#ship an# !inning

confi#ence in the lo"e of ?thello$ What4 Dichael CassioN &hat came a !ooing !ith you, an# so many a time, When ) ha"e spoke of you #ispraisingly, Hath ta'en your part, to ha"e so much to #o &o bring him inNGGWhy this is not a boon5 '&is as ) shoul# entreat you !ear your glo"es, ?r fee# on nourishing meats, or keep you !armL ?r sue to you to #o a peculiar profit &o your person$ Bay, !hen ) ha"e a suit, Wherein ) mean to touch your lo"e in#ee#, )t shall be full of poise, an# fearful to be grante#$ ?thello's confi#ence, at first only staggere# by broken hints an# insinuations, reco"ers itself at sight of 'es#emonaL an# he e/claims )f she be false, ? then Hea"'n mocks itself5 )'ll not belie"e it$ %ut presently after, on broo#ing o"er his suspicions by himself, an# yiel#ing to his apprehensions of the !orst, his smothere# jealousy breaks out into open fury, an# he returns to #eman# satisfaction of )ago like a !il# beast stung !ith the en"enome# shaft of the hunters$ '>ook !here he comes', Oc$ )n this state of e/asperation an# "iolence, after the first paro/ysms of his grief an# ten#erness ha"e ha# their "ent in that passionate apostrophe, ') felt not Cassio's kisses on her lips,' )ago by false aspersions, an# by presenting the most re"olting images to his min#, :,ootnote5 See the passage beginning, ')t is impossible you shoul# see this, Were they as prime as goats,' Oc$= easily turns the storm of Passion from himself against 'es#emona, an# !orks him up into a trembling agony of #oubt an# fear, in !hich he aban#ons all his lo"e an# hopes in a breath$ Bo! #o ) see'tis true$ >ook here, )ago, 6ll my fon# lo"e thus #o ) blo! to Hea"'n$ &is gone$ 6rise, black "engeance, from the hollo! hellL *iel# up, ? lo"e, thy cro!n an# hearte# throne &o tyrannous hate4 S!ell, bosom, !ith thy fraughtL ,or'tis of aspicks' tongues$ ,rom this time, his raging thoughts 'ne"er look back, ne'er ebb to humble lo"e' till his re"enge is sure of its object, the painful regrets an# in"oluntary recollections of past circumstances !hich cross his min# ami#st the #im trances of passion, aggra"ating the sense of his !rongs, but not shaking his purpose$ ?nce in#ee#, !here )ago sho!s him Cassio !ith the han#kerchief in his han#, an# making sport Ias he thinksJ of his misfortunes, the intolerable bitterness of his feelings, the e/treme sense of shame, makes him fall to praising her accomplishments an# relapse into a momentary fit of !eakness, '*et, oh, the pity of it, )ago, the pity of it4' &his returning fon#ness, ho!e"er, only ser"es, as it is manage# by )ago, to !het his re"enge, an# set his heart more against her$ )n his con"ersations !ith 'es#emona, the persuasion of her guilt an# the imme#iate proofs of her #uplicity seem to irritate his resentment an# a"ersion to herL but in the scene imme#iately prece#ing her

#eath, the recollection of his lo"e returns upon him in all its ten#erness an# forceL an# after her #eath, he all at once forgets his !rongs in the su##en an# irreparable sense of his loss5 Dy !ife4 Dy !ife4 What !ifeN ) ha"e no !ife$ ?h insupportable4 ?h hea"y hour4 &his happens before he is assure# of her innocenceL but after!ar#s his remorse is as #rea#ful as his re"enge has been, an# yiel#s only to fi/e# an# #eath like #espair$ His fare!ell speech, before he kills himself, in !hich he con"eys his reasons to the senate for the mur#er of his !ife, is eMual to the first speech in !hich he ga"e them an account of his courtship of her, an# 'his !hole course of lo"e'$ Such an en#ing !as alone !orthy of such a commencement$ )f anything coul# a## to the force of our sympathy !ith ?thello, or compassion for his fate, it !oul# be the frankness an# generosity of his nature, !hich so little #eser"e it$ When )ago first begins to practise upon his unsuspecting frien#ship, he ans!ers5 GG&is not to make me jealous, &o say my !ife is fair, fee#s !ell, lo"es company, )s free of speech, sings, plays, an# #ances !ellL Where "irtue is, these are most "irtuous$ Bor from my o!n !eak merits !ill ) #ra! &he smallest fear or #oubt of her re"olt, ,or she ha# eyes an# chose me$ &his character is beautifully Ian# !ith affecting simplicityJ confirme# by !hat 'es#emona herself says of him to 6emilia after she has lost the han#kerchief, the first ple#ge of his lo"e to her5 %elie"e me, ) ha# rather ha"e lost my purse ,ull of cruza#oes$ 6n# but my noble Door )s true of min#, an# ma#e of no such baseness, 6s jealous creatures are, it !ere enough &o put him to ill thinking$ 6emilia$ )s he not jealousN 'es#emona$ Who heN ) think the sun !here he !as born #re! all such humours from him$ )n a short speech of 6emilia's there occurs one of those si#eG intimations of the fluctuations of passion !hich !e sel#om meet !ith but in Shakespeare$ 6fter ?thello has resol"e# upon the #eath of his !ife, an# bi#s her #ismiss her atten#ant for the night, she ans!ers5 ) !ill, my >or#$ 6emilia$ Ho! goes it no!N H. >??CS G.B&>.0 &H6B H. ')'$ Shakespeare has here put into half a line !hat some authors !oul# ha"e spun out into ten set speeches$ &he character of 'es#emona herself is inimitable both in itself, an# as it contrasts !ith ?thello's groun#less jealousy, an# !ith the

foul conspiracy of !hich she is the innocent "ictim$ Her beauty an# e/ternal graces are only in#irectly glance# atL !e see 'her "isage in her min#'L her character e"ery!here pre#ominates o"er her person5 6 mai#en ne"er bol#5 ?f spirit so still an# Muiet, that her motion %lushe# at itself$ &here is one fine compliment pai# to her by Cassio, !ho e/claims triumphantly !hen she comes ashore at Cyprus after the storm5 &empests themsel"es, high seas, an# ho!ling !in#s, 6s ha"ing sense of beauty, #o omit &heir mortal natures, letting safe go by &he #i"ine 'es#emona$ )n general, as is the case !ith most of Shakespeare's females, !e lose sight of her personal charms in her attachment an# #e"ote#ness to her husban#$ 'She is sub#ue# e"en to the "ery Muality of her lor#'L an# to ?thello's 'honours an# his "aliant parts her soul an# fortunes consecrates'$ &he la#y protests so much herself, an# she is as goo# as her !or#$ &he truth of conception, !ith !hich timi#ity an# bol#ness are unite# in the same character, is mar"ellous$ &he e/tra"agance of her resolutions, the pertinacity of her affections, may be sai# to arise out of the gentleness of her nature$ &hey imply an unreser"e# reliance on the purity of her o!n intentions, an entire surren#er of her fears to her lo"e, a knitting of herself Iheart an# soulJ to the fate of another$ %ating the commencement of her passion, !hich is a little fantastical an# hea#strong Ithough e"en that may perhaps be consistently accounte# for from her inability to resist a rising inclination :,ootnote5 )ago$ 6y, too gentle$ ?thello$ Bay, that's certain$=J her !hole character consists in ha"ing no !ill of her o!n, no prompter but her obe#ience$ Her romantic turn is only a conseMuence of the #omestic an# practical part of her #ispositionL an# instea# of follo!ing ?thello to the !ars, she !oul# gla#ly ha"e 'remaine# at home a moth of peace', if her husban# coul# ha"e staye# !ith her$ Her resignation an# angelic s!eetness of temper #o not #esert her at the last$ &he scenes in !hich she laments an# tries to account for ?thello's estrangement from her are e/Muisitely beautiful$ 6fter he has struck her, an# calle# her names, she says5 GG6las, )ago, What shall ) #o to !in my lor# againN Goo# frien#, go to himL for by this light of hea"en, ) kno! not ho! ) lost him$ Here ) kneelL )f e'er my !ill #i# trespass 'gainst his lo"e, .ither in #iscourse, or thought, or actual #ee#, ?r that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense 'elighte# them on any other formG ?r that ) #o not, an# e"er #i# 6n# e"er !ill, though he #o shake me off &o beggarly #i"orcement, lo"e him #early, Comfort fors!ear me$ Ankin#ness may #o much, 6n# his unkin#ness may #efeat my life, %ut ne"er taint my lo"e$

)ago$ ) pray you be content5'tis but his humour$ &he business of the state #oes him offence$ 'es#emona$ )f't!ere no other4GG &he scene !hich follo!s !ith 6emilia an# the song of the Willo! are eMually beautiful, an# sho! the author's e/treme po!er of "arying the e/pression of passion, in all its moo#s an# in all circumstancesL 6emilia$ Woul# you ha# ne"er seen him$ 'es#emona$ So !oul# not )5 my lo"e #oth so appro"e him, &hat e"en his stubbornness, his checks, his fro!ns, Ha"e grace an# fa"our in them, Oc$ Bot the unjust suspicions of ?thello, not )ago's treachery, place 'es#emona in a more amiable or interesting light than the casual con"ersation Ihalf earnest, half jestJ bet!een her an# 6emilia on the common beha"iour of !omen to their husban#s$ &his #ialogue takes place just before the last fatal scene$ )f ?thello ha# o"erhear# it, it !oul# ha"e pre"ente# the !hole catastropheL but then it !oul# ha"e spoile# the play$ &he character of )ago is one of the supererogations of Shakespeare's genius$ Some persons, more nice than !ise, ha"e thought this !hole character unnatural, because his "illainy is W)&H?A& 6 SA,,)C).B& D?&)-.$ Shakespeare, !ho !as as goo# a philosopher as he !as a poet, thought other!ise$ He kne! that the lo"e of po!er, !hich is another name for the lo"e of mischief, is natural to man$ He !oul# kno! this as !ell or better than if it ha# been #emonstrate# to him by a logical #iagram, merely from seeing chil#ren pa##le in the #irt or kill flies for sport$ )ago in fact belongs to a class of characters common to Shakespeare an# at the same time peculiar to himL !hose hea#s are as acute an# acti"e as their hearts are har# an# callous$ )ago is, to be sure, an e/treme instance of the kin#L that is to say, of #isease# intellectual acti"ity, !ith an almost perfect in#ifference to moral goo# or e"il, or rather !ith a #eci#e# preference of the latter, because it falls more rea#ily in !ith his fa"ourite propensity, gi"es greater zest to his thoughts an# scope to his actions$ He is Muite or nearly as in#ifferent to his o!n fate as to that of othersL he runs all risks for a trifling an# #oubtful a#"antageL an# is himself the #upe an# "ictim of his ruling passionG Gan insatiable cra"ing after action of the most #ifficult an# #angerous kin#$ '?ur ancient' is a philosopher, !ho fancies that a lie that kills has more point in it than an alliteration or an antithesisL !ho thinks a fatal e/periment on the peace of a family a better thing than !atching the palpitations in the heart of a flea in a microscopeL !ho plots the ruin of his frien#s as an e/ercise for his ingenuity, an# stabs men in the #ark to pre"ent ennui$ His gaiety, such as it is, arises from the success of his treacheryL his ease from the torture he has inflicte# on others$ He is an amateur of trage#y in real lifeL an# instea# of employing his in"ention on imaginary characters, or longGforgotten inci#ents, he takes the bol#er an# more #esperate course of getting up his plot at home, casts the principal parts among his nearest frien#s an# conne/ions, an# rehearses it in #o!nright earnest, !ith stea#y ner"es an#

unabate# resolution$ We !ill just gi"e an illustration or t!o$ ?ne of his most characteristic speeches is that imme#iately after the marriage of ?thello$ 0o#erigo$ What a full fortune #oes the thick lips o!e, )f he can carry her thus4 )ago$ Call up her father5 0ouse him :?thello=, make after him, poison his #elight, Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kinsmen, 6n# tho' he in a fertile climate #!ell, Plague him !ith flies5 &ho' that his joy be joy, *et thro! such changes of "e/ation on it, 6s it may lose some colour$ )n the ne/t passage, his imagination runs riot in the mischief he is plotting, an# breaks out into the !il#ness an# impetuosity of real enthusiasm$ 0o#erigo$ Here is her father's house5 )'ll call alou#$ )ago$ 'o, !ith like timorous accent an# #ire yell, 6s !hen, by night an# negligence, the fire )s spie# in populous cities$ ?ne of his most fa"ourite topics, on !hich he is rich in#ee#, an# in #escanting on !hich his spleen ser"es him for a Duse, is the #isproportionate match bet!een 'es#emona an# the Door$ &his is a clue to the character of the la#y !hich he is by no means rea#y to part !ith$ )t is brought for!ar# in the first scene, an# he recurs to it, !hen in ans!er to his insinuations against 'es#emona, 0o#erigo says5 ) cannot belie"e that in herGGshe's full of most blest con#itions$ )ago$ %less'# fig's en#$ &he !ine she #rinks is ma#e of grapes$ )f she ha# been blest, she !oul# ne"er ha"e marrie# the Door$ 6n# again !ith still more spirit an# fatal effect after!ar#s, !hen he turns this "ery suggestion arising in ?thello's o!n breast to her preju#ice$ ?thello$ 6n# yet ho! nature erring from itselfGG )ago$ 6ye, there's the pointLGGas to be bol# !ith you, Bot to affect many propose# matches ?f her o!n clime, comple/ion, an# #egree, Oc$ &his is probing to the Muick$ )ago here turns the character of poor 'es#emona, as it !ere, insi#e out$ )t is certain that nothing but the genius of Shakespeare coul# ha"e preser"e# the entire interest an# #elicacy of the part, an# ha"e e"en #ra!n an a##itional elegance an# #ignity from the peculiar circumstances in !hich she is place#$ &he habitual licentiousness of )ago's con"ersation is not to be

trace# to the pleasure he takes in gross or lasci"ious images, but to his #esire of fin#ing out the !orst si#e of e"erything, an# of pro"ing himself an o"erGmatch for appearances$ He has none of 'the milk of human kin#ness' in his composition$ His imagination rejects e"erything that has not a strong infusion of the most unpalatable ingre#ientsL his min# #igests only poisons$ -irtue or goo#ness or !hate"er has the least 'relish of sal"ation in it' is, to his #epra"e# appetite, sickly an# insipi#5 an# he e"en resents the goo# opinion entertaine# of his o!n integrity, as if it !ere an affront cast on the masculine sense an# spirit of his character$ &hus at the meeting bet!een ?thello an# 'es#emona, he e/claims, '?h, you are !ell tune# no!5 but )'ll set #o!n the pegs that make this music, 6S H?B.S& 6S ) 6DGGhis character of bonhommie not sitting at all easily upon him$ )n the scenes !here he tries to !ork ?thello to his purpose, he is proportionably guar#e#, insi#ious, #ark, an# #eliberate$ We belie"e nothing e"er came up to the profoun# #issimulation an# #e/terous artifice of the !ellGkno!n #ialogue in the thir# act, !here he first enters upon the e/ecution of his #esign$ )ago$ Dy noble lor#$ ?thello$ What #ost thou say, )agoN )ago$ 'i# Dichael Cassio, When you !oo'# my la#y, kno! of your lo"eN ?thello$ He #i# from first to last$ Why #ost thou askN )ago$ %ut for a satisfaction of my thought, Bo further harm$ ?thello$ Why of thy thought, )agoN )ago$ ) #i# not think he ha# been acMuainte# !ith it$ ?thello$ ? yes, an# !ent bet!een us "ery oftGG )ago$ )n#ee#4 ?thello$ )n#ee#N 6y, in#ee#$ 'iscern'st thou aught of thatN )s he not honestN )ago$ Honest, my lor#N ?thello$ HonestN 6y, honest$ )ago$ Dy lor#, for aught ) kno!$ ?thello$ What #o'st thou thinkN )ago$ &hink, my lor#4 ?thello$ &hink, my lor#4 6las, thou echo'st me, 6s if there !as some monster in thy thought

&oo hi#eous to be sho!n$ &he stops an# breaks, the #eep !orkings of treachery un#er the mask of lo"e an# honesty, the an/ious !atchfulness, the cool earnestness, an# if !e may so say, the P6SS)?B of hypocrisy marke# in e"ery line, recei"e their last finishing in that inconcei"able burst of preten#e# in#ignation at ?thello's #oubts of his sincerity$ ? grace4 ? Hea"en forgi"e me4 6re you a manN Ha"e you a soul or senseN Go# be !i' youL take mine office$ ? !retche# fool, &hat lo"'st to make thine honesty a "ice4 ?h monstrous !orl#4 take note, take note, ? !orl#4 &o be #irect an# honest, is not safe$ ) thank you for this profit, an# from hence )'ll lo"e no frien#, since lo"e bree#s such offence$ )f )ago is #etestable enough !hen he has business on his han#s an# all his engines at !ork, he is still !orse !hen he has nothing to #o, an# !e only see into the hollo!ness of his heart$ His in#ifference !hen ?thello falls into a s!oon, is perfectly #iabolical$ )ago$ Ho! is it$ GeneralN Ha"e you not hurt your hea#N ?thello$ 'ost thou mock meN )ago$ ) mock you not, by Hea"en, Oc$ &he part in#ee# !oul# har#ly be tolerate#, e"en as a foil to &he "irtue an# generosity of the other characters in the play, %ut for its in#efatigable in#ustry an# ine/haustible resources, Which #i"ert the attention of the spectator Ias !ell as his o!nJ from the en# he has in "ie! to the means by !hich it must be accomplishe#$GG.#mun# the %astar# in >ear is something of the same character, place# in less prominent circumstances$ Eanga is a "ulgar caricature of it$

&)D?B ?, 6&H.BS &)D?B ?, 6&H.BS al!ays appeare# to us to be !ritten !ith as intense a feeling of his subject as any one play of Shakespeare$ )t is one of the fe! in !hich he seems to be in earnest throughout, ne"er to trifle nor go out of his !ay$ He #oes not rela/ in his efforts, nor lose sight of the unity of his #esign$ )t is the only play of our author in !hich spleen is the pre#ominant feeling of the min#$ )t is as much a satire as a play5 an# contains some of the finest pieces of in"ecti"e possible to be concei"e#, both in the snarling, captious ans!ers of the cynic 6pemantus, an# in the impassione# an# more terrible imprecations of &imon$ &he latter remin# the classical rea#er of the force an# s!elling impetuosity of the moral #eclamations in @u"enal, !hile the former ha"e all the keenness an# caustic se"erity of the ol# Stoic philosophers$ &he soul of 'iogenes

appears to ha"e been seate# on the lips of 6pemantus$ &he churlish profession of misanthropy in the cynic is contraste# !ith the profoun# feeling of it in &imon, an# also !ith the sol#ierlike an# #etermine# resentment of 6lcibia#es against his countrymen, !ho ha"e banishe# him, though this forms only an inci#ental episo#e in the trage#y$ &he fable consists of a single e"entGGof the transition from the highest pomp an# profusion of artificial refinement to the most abject state of sa"age life, an# pri"ation of all social intercourse$ &he change is as rapi# as it is completeL nor is the #escription of the rich an# generous &imon, banMueting in gil#e# palaces, pampere# by e"ery lu/ury, pro#igal of his hospitality, courte# by cro!#s of flatterers, poets, painters, lor#s, la#ies, !ho5 ,ollo! his stri#es, his lobbies fill !ith ten#ance, 0ain sacrificial !hisperings in his earL 6n# through him #rink the free airGG more striking than that of the su##en falling off of his frien#s an# fortune, an# his nake# e/posure in a !il# forest #igging roots from the earth for his sustenance, !ith a lofty spirit of selfG#enial, an# bitter scorn of the !orl#, !hich raise him higher in our esteem than the #azzling gloss of prosperity coul# #o$ He gru#ges himself the means of life, an# is only busy in preparing his gra"e$ Ho! forcibly is the #ifference bet!een !hat he !as an# !hat he is #escribe# in 6pemantus's taunting Muestions, !hen he comes to reproach him !ith the change in his !ay of life4 GGWhat, think'st thou, &hat the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, Will put thy shirt on !armN !ill these moist trees &hat ha"e outGli"'# the eagle, page thy heels, 6n# skip !hen thou point'st outN !ill the col# brook, Can#ie# !ith ice, cau#le thy morning taste &o cure thy o'erGnight's surfeitN Call the creatures, Whose nake# natures li"e in all the spight ?f !reakful hea"'n, !hose bare unhouse# trunks, &o the conflicting elements e/pos'#, 6ns!er mere nature, bi# them flatter thee$ &he manners are e"ery!here preser"e# !ith #istinct truth$ &he poet an# painter are "ery skilfully playe# off against one another, both affecting great attention to the other, an# each taken up !ith his o!n "anity, an# the superiority of his o!n art$ Shakespeare has put into the mouth of the former a "ery li"ely #escription of the genius of poetry an# of his o!n in particular$ GG6 thing slipt i#ly from me$ ?ur poesy is as a gum, !hich issues ,rom !hence 'tis nourish'#$ &he fire i' th' flint Sho!s not till it be struck5 our gentle flame Pro"okes itselfGGan# like the current flies .ach boun# it chafes$ &he hollo! frien#ship an# shuffling e"asions of the 6thenian lor#s,

their smooth professions an# pitiful ingratitu#e, are "ery satisfactorily e/pose#, as !ell as the #ifferent #isguises to !hich the meanness of selfGlo"e resorts in such cases to hi#e a !ant of generosity an# goo# faith$ &he lurking selfishness of 6pemantus #oes not pass un#etecte# ami#st the grossness of his sarcasms an# his contempt for the pretensions of others$ ."en the t!o courtezans !ho accompany 6lcibia#es to the ca"e of &imon are "ery characteristically sketche#L an# the thie"es !ho come to "isit him are also 'true men' in their !ay$GG6n e/ception to this general picture of selfish #epra"ity is foun# in the ol# an# honest ste!ar#, ,la"ius, to !hom &imon pays a full tribute of ten#erness$ Shakespeare !as un!illing to #ra! a picture 'all o"er ugly !ith hypocrisy'$ He o!e# this character to the goo#Gnature# solicitations of his Duse$ His min# !as !ell sai# by %en @onson to be the 'sphere of humanity'$ &he moral sententiousness of this play eMuals that of >or# %acon's &reatise on the Wis#om of the 6ncients, an# is in#ee# seasone# !ith greater "ariety$ ."ery topic of contempt or in#ignation is here e/hauste#L but !hile the sor#i# licentiousness of 6pemantus, !hich turns e"erything to gall an# bitterness, sho!s only the natural "irulence of his temper an# antipathy to goo# or e"il alike, &imon #oes not utter an imprecation !ithout betraying the e/tra"agant !orkings of #isappointe# passion, of lo"e altere# to hate$ 6pemantus sees nothing goo# in any object, an# e/aggerates !hate"er is #isgusting5 &imon is tormente# !ith the perpetual contrast bet!een things an# appearances, bet!een the fresh, tempting outsi#e an# the rottenness !ithin, an# in"okes mischiefs on the hea#s of mankin# proportione# to the sense of his !rongs an# of their treacheries$ He impatiently cries out, !hen he fin#s the gol#, &his yello! sla"e Will knit an# break religionsL bless the accurs'#L Dake the hoar leprosy a#or'#L place thie"es, 6n# gi"e them title, knee, an# approbation, With senators on the benchL this is it, &hat makes the !appen'# !i#o! !e# againL She, !hom the spitalGhouse Woul# cast the gorge at, &H)S .D%6>DS 6B' SP)C.S &? &H' 6P0)> '6* 6G6)B$ ?ne of his most #rea#ful imprecations is that !hich occurs imme#iately on his lea"ing 6thens$ >et me look back upon thee, ? thou !all, &hat gir#lest in those !ol"es4 'i"e in the earth, 6n# fence not 6thens4 Datrons, turn incontinentL ?be#ience fail in chil#renL sla"es an# fools Pluck the gra"e !rinkle# senate from the bench, 6n# minister in their stea#s$ &o general filths Con"ert o' th' instant green "irginity4 'o't in your parents' eyes$ %ankrupts, hol# fastL 0ather than ren#er back, out !ith your kni"es, 6n# cut your trusters' throats4 %oun# ser"ants, steal5 >argeGhan#e# robbers your gra"e masters are, 6n# pill by la!$ Dai#, to thy master's be#5 &hy mistress is o' th' brothel$ Son of si/teen,

Pluck the lin'# crutch from thy ol# limping sire, 6n# !ith it beat his brains out4 ,ear an# piety, 0eligion to the Go#s, peace, justice, truth, 'omestic a!e, nightGrest, an# neighbourhoo#, )nstructions, manners, mysteries an# tra#es, 'egrees, obser"ances, customs an# la!s, 'ecline to your confoun#ing contrariesL 6n# let confusion li"e4GGPlagues, inci#ent to men, *our potent an# infectious fe"ers heap ?n 6thens, ripe for stroke4 &hou col# sciatica, Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt 6s lamely as their manners4 >ust an# liberty Creep in the min#s an# manners of our youth, &hat 'gainst the stream of "irtue they may stri"e, 6n# #ro!n themsel"es in riot4 )tches, blains, So! all th' 6thenian bosomsL an# their crop %e general leprosy5 breath infect breath, &hat their society Ias their frien#shipJ may %e merely poison4 &imon is here just as i#eal in his passion for ill as he ha# before been in his belief of goo#$ 6pemantus !as satisfie# !ith the mischief e/isting in the !orl#, an# !ith his o!n illGnature$ ?ne of the most #ecisi"e intimations of &imon's morbi# jealousy of appearances is in his ans!er to 6pemantus, !ho asks him5 What things in the !orl# can'st thou nearest compare !ith thy flatterersN &imon$ Women nearest5 but men, men are the things themsel"es$ 6pemantus, it is sai#, 'lo"e# fe! things better than to abhor himself'$ &his is not the case !ith &imon, !ho neither lo"es to abhor himself nor others$ 6ll his "ehement misanthropy is force#, upGhill !ork$ ,rom the slippery turns of fortune, from the turmoils of passion an# a#"ersity, he !ishes to sink into the Muiet of the gra"e$ ?n that subject his thoughts are intent, on that he fin#s time an# place to gro! romantic$ He #igs his o!n gra"e by the seaG shoreL contri"es his funeral ceremonies ami#st the pomp of #esolation, an# buil#s his mausoleum of the elements$ Come not to me againL but say to 6thens, &imon hath ma#e his e"erlasting mansion Apon the beache# "erge of the salt floo#L Which once aG#ay !ith his embosse# froth &he turbulent surge shall co"er$GG&hither come, 6n# let my gra"eGstone be your oracle$ 6n# again, 6lcibia#es, after rea#ing his epitaph, says of him5 &hese !ell e/press in thee thy latter spirits5 &hough thou abhorre#'st in us our human griefs, Scorn'#'st our brain's flo!, an# those our #roplets, !hich ,rom niggar# nature fallL yet rich conceit &aught thee to make "ast Beptune !eep for aye ?n thy lo! gra"eGG

thus making the !in#s his funeral #irge, his mourner the murmuring oceanL an# seeking in the e"erlasting solemnities of nature obli"ion of the transitory splen#our of his lifetime$

C?0)?>6BAS Shakespeare has in this play sho!n himself !ell "erse# in history an# state affairs$ C?0)?>6BAS is a storehouse of political commonplaces$ 6ny one !ho stu#ies it may sa"e himself the trouble of rea#ing %urke's 0eflections, or Paine's 0ights of Dan, or the 'ebates in both Houses of Parliament since the ,rench 0e"olution or our o!n$ &he arguments for an# against aristocracy or #emocracy, on the pri"ileges of the fe! an# the claims of the many, on liberty an# sla"ery, po!er an# the abuse of it, peace an# !ar, are here "ery ably han#le#, !ith the spirit of a poet an# the acuteness of a philosopher$ Shakespeare himself seems to ha"e ha# a leaning to the arbitrary si#e of the Muestion, perhaps from some feeling of contempt for his o!n originL an# to ha"e spare# no occasion of baiting the rabble$ What he says of them is "ery true5 !hat he says of their betters is also "ery true, though he #!ells less upon it$GG &he cause of the people is in#ee# but little calculate# as a subject for poetry5 it a#mits of rhetoric, !hich goes into argument an# e/planation, but it presents no imme#iate or #istinct images to the min#, 'no jutting frieze, buttress, or coigne of "antage' for poetry 'to make its pen#ant be# an# procreant cra#le in'$ &he language of poetry naturally falls in !ith the language of po!er$ &he imagination is an e/aggerating an# e/clusi"e faculty5 it takes from one thing to a## to another5 it accumulates circumstances together to gi"e the greatest possible effect to a fa"ourite object$ &he un#erstan#ing is a #i"i#ing an# measuring faculty5 it ju#ges of things, not accor#ing to their imme#iate impression on the min#, but accor#ing to their relations to one another$ &he one is a monopolizing faculty, !hich seeks the greatest Muantity of present e/citement by ineMuality an# #isproportionL the other is a #istributi"e faculty, !hich seeks the greatest Muantity of ultimate goo#, by justice an# proportion$ &he one is an aristocratical, the other a republican faculty$ &he principle of poetry is a "ery antiG le"elling principle$ )t aims at effect, it e/ists by contrast$ )t a#mits of no me#ium$ )t is e"erything by e/cess$ )t rises abo"e the or#inary stan#ar# of sufferings an# crimes$ )t presents a #azzling appearance$ )t sho!s its hea# turrette#, cro!ne#, an# creste#$ )ts front is gilt an# bloo#Gstaine#$ %efore it 'it carries noise, an# behin# it tears'$ )t has its altars an# its "ictims, sacrifices, human sacrifices$ Cings, priests, nobles, are its trainGbearers, tyrants an# sla"es its e/ecutioners$GG'Carnage is its #aughter$' Poetry is rightGroyal$ )t puts the in#i"i#ual for the species, the one abo"e the infinite many, might before right$ 6 lion hunting a flock of sheep or a her# of !il# asses is a more poetical object than theyL an# !e e"en take part !ith the lor#ly beast, because our "anity or some other feeling makes us #ispose# to place oursel"es in the situation of the strongest party$ So !e feel some concern for the poor citizens of 0ome !hen they meet together to compare their

!ants an# grie"ances, till Coriolanus comes in an# !ith blo!s an# big !or#s #ri"es this set of 'poor rats', this rascal scum, to their homes an# beggary before him$ &here is nothing heroical in a multitu#e of miserable rogues not !ishing to be star"e#, or complaining that they are like to be so5 but !hen a single man comes for!ar# to bra"e their cries an# to make them submit to the last in#ignities, from mere pri#e an# selfG!ill, our a#miration of his pro!ess is imme#iately con"erte# into contempt for their pusillanimity$ &he insolence of po!er is stronger than the plea of necessity$ &he tame submission to usurpe# authority or e"en the natural resistance to it has nothing to e/cite or flatter the imagination5 it is the assumption of a right to insult or oppress others that carries an imposing air of superiority !ith it$ We ha# rather be the oppressor than the oppresse#$ &he lo"e of po!er in oursel"es an# the a#miration of it in others are both natural to man5 the one makes him a tyrant, the other a sla"e$ Wrong #resse# out in pri#e, pomp, an# circumstance has more attraction than abstract right$GGCoriolanus complains of the fickleness of the people5 yet the instant he cannot gratify his pri#e an# obstinacy at their e/pense, he turns his arms against his country$ )f his country !as not !orth #efen#ing, !hy #i# he buil# his pri#e on its #efenceN He is a conMueror an# a heroL he conMuers other countries, an# makes this a plea for ensla"ing his o!nL an# !hen he is pre"ente# from #oing so, he leagues !ith its enemies to #estroy his country$ He rates the people 'as if he !ere a Go# to punish, an# not a man of their infirmity'$ He scoffs at one of their tribunes for maintaining their rights an# franchises5 'Dark you his absolute SH6>>N' not marking his o!n absolute W)>> to take e"erything from them, his impatience of the slightest opposition to his o!n pretensions being in proportion to their arrogance an# absur#ity$ )f the great an# po!erful ha# the beneficence an# !is#om of Go#s, then all this !oul# ha"e been !ell5 if !ith a greater kno!le#ge of !hat is goo# for the people, they ha# as great a care for their interest as they ha"e themsel"es, if they !ere seate# abo"e the !orl#, sympathizing !ith the !elfare, but not feeling the passions of men, recei"ing neither goo# nor hurt from them, but besto!ing their benefits as free gifts on them, they might then rule o"er them like another Pro"i#ence$ %ut this is not the case$ Coriolanus is un!illing that the senate shoul# sho! their 'cares' for the people, lest their 'cares' shoul# be construe# into 'fears', to the sub"ersion of all #ue authorityL an# he is no sooner #isappointe# in his schemes to #epri"e the people not only of the cares of the state, but of all po!er to re#ress themsel"es, than -olumnia is ma#e ma#ly to e/claim5 Bo! the re# pestilence strike all tra#es in 0ome, 6n# occupations perish$ &his is but natural5 it is but natural for a mother to ha"e more regar# for her son than for a !hole cityL but then the city shoul# be left to take some care of itself$ &he care of the state cannot, !e here see, be safely entruste# to maternal affection, or to the #omestic charities of high life$ &he great ha"e pri"ate feelings of their o!n, to !hich the interests of humanity an# justice must curtsy$ &heir interests are so far from being the same as those of the community, that they are in #irect an# necessary opposition to themL their po!er is at the e/pense of ?A0 !eaknessL their riches of ?A0 po"ertyL their pri#e of ?A0 #egra#ationL their splen#our of ?A0

!retche#nessL their tyranny of ?A0 ser"itu#e$ )f they ha# the superior kno!le#ge ascribe# to them I!hich they ha"e notJ it !oul# only ren#er them so much more formi#ableL an# from Go#s !oul# con"ert them into 'e"ils$ &he !hole #ramatic moral of Coriolanus is that those !ho ha"e little shall ha"e less, an# that those !ho ha"e much shall take all that others ha"e left$ &he people are poorL therefore they ought to be star"e#$ &hey are sla"esL therefore they ought to be beaten$ &hey !ork har#L therefore they ought to be treate# like beasts of bur#en$ &hey are ignorantL therefore they ought not to be allo!e# to feel that they !ant foo#, or clothing, or rest, that they are ensla"e#, oppresse#, an# miserable$ &his is the logic of the imagination an# the passionsL !hich seek to aggran#ize !hat e/cites a#miration an# to heap contempt on misery, to raise po!er into tyranny, an# to make tyranny absoluteL to thrust #o!n that !hich is lo! still lo!er, an# to make !retches #esperate5 to e/alt magistrates into kings, kings into go#sL to #egra#e subjects to the rank of sla"es, an# sla"es to the con#ition of brutes$ &he history of mankin# is a romance, a mask, a trage#y, constructe# upon the principles of P?.&)C6> @AS&)C.L it is a noble or royal hunt, in !hich !hat is sport to the fe! is #eath to the many, an# in !hich the spectators halloo an# encourage the strong to set upon the !eak, an# cry ha"oc in the chase, though they #o not share in the spoil$ We may #epen# upon it that !hat men #elight to rea# in books, they !ill put in practice in reality$ ?ne of the most natural traits in this play is the #ifference of the interest taken in the success of Coriolanus by his !ife an# mother$ &he one is only an/ious for his honourL the other is fearful for his life$ -olumnia$ Dethinks ) hither hear your husban#'s #rum5 ) see him pluck 6ufi#ius #o!n by th' hair5 Dethinks ) see him stamp thusGGan# call thusGG Come on, ye co!ar#sL ye !ere got in fear &hough you !ere born in 0omeL his bloo#y bro! With his mail'# han# then !iping, forth he goes >ike to a har"est man, that's task'# to mo! ?r all, or lose his hire$ -irgila$ His bloo#y bro!4 ?h @upiter, no bloo#$ -olumnia$ 6!ay, you foolL it more becomes a man &han gilt his trophy$ &he breast of Hecuba, When she #i# suckle Hector, look'# not lo"elier &han Hector's forehea#, !hen it spit forth bloo# 6t Grecian s!or#s conten#ing$ When she hears the trumpets that proclaim her son's return, she says in the true spirit of a 0oman matron5 &hese are the ushers of Dartius5 before him He carries noise, an# behin# him he lea"es tears$ 'eath, that #ark spirit, in's ner"y arm #oth lie, Which being a#"anc'#, #eclines, an# then men #ie$ Coriolanus himself is a complete character5 his lo"e of reputation, his contempt of popular opinion, his pri#e an# mo#esty, are

conseMuences of each other$ His pri#e consists in the infle/ible sternness of his !illL his lo"e of glory is a #etermine# #esire to bear #o!n all opposition, an# to e/tort the a#miration both of frien#s an# foes$ His contempt for popular fa"our, his un!illingness to hear his o!n praises, spring from the same source$ He cannot contra#ict the praises that are besto!e# upon himL therefore he is impatient at hearing them$ He !oul# enforce the goo# opinion of others by his actions, but #oes not !ant their ackno!le#gements in !or#s$ Pray no!, no more5 my mother, Who has a charter to e/tol her bloo#, When she #oes praise me, grie"es me$ His magnanimity is of the same kin#$ courage !hich he honours in himself5 of 6ufi#ius !ith the same confi#ence the fiel#, an# feels that by putting from him all temptation for using it He a#mires in an enemy that he places himself on the hearth that he !oul# ha"e met him in himself in his po!er, he takes against him$

)n the titleGpage of Coriolanus it is sai# at the bottom of the 'ramatis Personae, '&he !hole history e/actly follo!e#, an# many of the principal speeches copie#, from the life of Coriolanus in Plutarch$' )t !ill be interesting to our rea#ers to see ho! far this is the case$ &!o of the principal scenes, those bet!een Coriolanus an# 6ufi#ius an# bet!een Coriolanus an# his mother, are thus gi"en in Sir &homas Borth's translation of Plutarch, #e#icate# to Fueen .lizabeth, 1;32$ &he first is as follo!s5 )t !as e"en t!ilight !hen he entere# the city of 6ntium, an# many people met him in the streets, but no man kne! him$ So he !ent #irectly to &ullus 6ufi#ius' house, an# !hen he came thither, he got him up straight to the chimneyGhearth, an# sat him #o!n, an# spake not a !or# to any man, his face all muffle# o"er$ &hey of the house spying him, !on#ere# !hat he shoul# be, an# yet they #urst not bi# him rise$ ,or illGfa"oure#ly muffle# an# #isguise# as he !as, yet there appeare# a certain majesty in his countenance an# in his silence5 !hereupon they !ent to &ullus, !ho !as at supper, to tell him of the strange #isguising of this man$ &ullus rose presently from the boar#, an# coming to!ar#s him, aske# him !hat he !as, an# !herefore he came$ &hen Dartius unmuffle# himself, an# after he ha# pause# a!hile, making no ans!er, he sai# unto himself, )f thou kno!est me not yet, &ullus, an# seeing me, #ost not perhaps belie"e me to be the man ) am in#ee#, ) must of necessity #isco"er myself to be that ) am$ ') am Caius Dartius, !ho hath #one to thyself particularly, an# to all the -olsces generally, great hurt an# mischief, !hich ) cannot #eny for my surname of Coriolanus that ) bear$ ,or ) ne"er ha# other benefit nor recompence of the true an# painful ser"ice ) ha"e #one, an# the e/treme #angers ) ha"e been in, but this only surnameL a goo# memory an# !itness of the malice an# #ispleasure thou shoul#est bear me$ )n#ee# the name only remaineth !ith meL for the rest, the en"y an# cruelty of the people of 0ome ha"e taken from me, by the sufferance of the #astar#ly nobility an# magistrates, !ho ha"e forsaken me, an# let me be banishe# by the people$ &his e/tremity hath no! #ri"en me to come as a poor suitor, to take thy chimneyGhearth, not of any hope ) ha"e to sa"e my life thereby$ ,or if ) ha# feare# #eath, ) !oul# not ha"e come hither to

put myself in hazar#L but pricke# for!ar# !ith #esire to be re"enge# of them that thus ha"e banishe# me, !hich no! ) #o begin, in putting my person into the han#s of their enemies$ Wherefore if thou hast any heart to be !recke# of the injuries thy enemies ha"e #one thee, spee# thee no!, an# let my misery ser"e thy turn, an# so use it as my ser"ice may be a benefit to the -olsces5 promising thee, that ) !ill fight !ith better goo# !ill for all you, than ) #i# !hen ) !as against you$ Cno!ing that they fight more "aliantly !ho kno! the force of the enemy, than such as ha"e ne"er pro"e# it$ 6n# if it be so that thou #are not, an# that thou art !eary to pro"e fortune any more, then am ) also !eary to li"e any longer$ 6n# it !ere no !is#om in thee to sa"e the life of him !ho hath been heretofore thy mortal enemy, an# !hose ser"ice no! can nothing help, nor$ pleasure thee$' &ullus hearing !hat he sai#, !as a mar"ellous gla# man, an# taking him by the han#, he sai# unto him5 'Stan# up, ? Dartius, an# be of goo# cheer, for in proffering thyself unto us, thou #oest us great honour5 an# by this means thou mayest hope also of greater things at all the -olsces' han#s$' So he feaste# him for that time, an# entertaine# him in the honourablest manner he coul#, talking !ith him of no other matter at that present5 but !ithin fe! #ays after, they fell to consultation together in !hat sort they shoul# begin their !ars$ &he meeting bet!een Coriolanus an# his mother is also nearly the same as in the play$ Bo! !as Dartius set then in the chair of state, !ith all the honours of a general, an# !hen he ha# spie# the !omen coming afar off, he mar"elle# !hat the matter meant5 but after!ar#s kno!ing his !ife !hich came foremost, he #etermine# at the first to persist in his obstinate an# infle/ible rancour$ %ut o"ercome in the en# !ith natural affection, an# being altogether altere# to see them, his heart !oul# not ser"e him to tarry their coining to his chair, but coming #o!n in haste, he !ent to meet them, an# first he kisse# his mother, an# embrace# her a pretty !hile, then his !ife an# little chil#ren$ 6n# nature so !rought !ith him, that the tears fell from his eyes, an# he coul# not keep himself from making much of them, but yiel#e# to the affection of his bloo#, as if he ha# been "iolently carrie# !ith the fury of a most s!iftGrunning stream$ 6fter he ha# thus lo"ingly recei"e# them, an# percei"ing that his mother -olumnia !oul# begin to speak to him, he calle# the chiefest of the council of the -olsces to hear !hat she !oul# say$ &hen she spake in this sort5 ')f !e hel# our peace, my son, an# #etermine# not to speak, the state of our poor bo#ies, an# present sight of our raiment, !oul# easily betray to thee !hat life !e ha"e le# at home, since thy e/ile an# abo#e abroa#L but think no! !ith thyself, ho! much more unfortunate than all the !omen li"ing, !e are come hither, consi#ering that the sight !hich shoul# be most pleasant to all others to behol#, spiteful fortune ha# ma#e most fearful to us5 making myself to see my son, an# my #aughter here her husban#, besieging the !alls of his nati"e country5 so as that !hich is the only comfort to all others in their a#"ersity an# misery, to pray unto the Go#s, an# to call to them for ai#, is the only thing !hich plungeth us into most #eep perple/ity$ ,or !e cannot, alas, together pray, both for "ictory to our country, an# for safety of thy life also5 but a !orl# of grie"ous curses, yea more than any mortal enemy can heap upon us, are forcibly !rappe# up in our prayers$ ,or the

bitter sop of most har# choice is offere# thy !ife an# chil#ren, to forgo one of the t!oL either to lose the person of thyself, or the nurse of their nati"e country$ ,or myself, my son, ) am #etermine# not to tarry till fortune in my lifetime #o make an en# of this !ar$ ,or if ) cannot persua#e the rather to #o goo# unto both parties, than to o"erthro! an# #estroy the one, preferring lo"e an# nature before the malice an# calamity of !ars, thou shalt see, my son, an# trust unto it, thou shalt no sooner march for!ar# to assault thy country, but thy foot shall trea# upon thy mother's !omb, that brought thee first into this !orl#$ 6n# ) may not #efer to see the #ay, either that my son be le# prisoner in triumph by his natural countrymen, or that he himself #o triumph of them, an# of his natural country$ ,or if it !ere so, that my reMuest ten#e# to sa"e thy country, in #estroying the -olsces, ) must confess, thou !oul#est har#ly an# #oubtfully resol"e on that$ ,or as to #estroy thy natural country, it is altogether unmeet an# unla!ful, so !ere it not just an# less honourable to betray those that put their trust in thee$ %ut my only #eman# consisteth, to make a gaol #eli"ery of all e"ils, !hich #eli"ereth eMual benefit an# safety, both to the one an# the other, but most honourable for the -olsces$ ,or it shall appear, that ha"ing "ictory in their han#s, they ha"e of special fa"our grante# us singular graces, peace an# amity, albeit themsel"es ha"e no less part of both than !e$ ?f !hich goo#, if so it came to pass, thyself is the only author, an# so hast thou the only honour$ %ut if it fail, an# fall out contrary, thyself alone #eser"e#ly shalt carry the shameful reproach an# burthen of either party$ So, though the en# of !ar be uncertain, yet this not!ithstan#ing is most certain, that if it be thy chance to conMuer, this benefit shalt thou reap of thy goo#ly conMuest, to be chronicle# the plague an# #estroyer of thy country$ 6n# if fortune o"erthro! thee, then the !orl# !ill say, that through #esire to, re"enge thy pri"ate injuries, thou hast for e"er un#one thy goo# frien#s, !ho #i# most lo"ingly an# courteously recei"e thee$' Dartius ga"e goo# ear unto his mother's !or#s, !ithout interrupting her speech at all, an# after she ha# sai# !hat she !oul#, he hel# his peace a pretty !hile, an# ans!ere# not a !or#$ Hereupon she began again to speak unto him, an# sai#L 'Dy son, !hy #ost thou not ans!er meN 'ost thou think it goo# altogether to gi"e place unto thy choler an# #esire of re"enge, an# thinkest thou it not honesty for thee to grant thy mother's reMuest in so !eighty a causeN 'ost thou take it honourable for a nobleman, to remember the !rongs an# injuries #one him, an# #ost not in like case think it an honest nobleman's part to be thankful for the goo#ness that parents #o sho! to their chil#ren, ackno!le#ging the #uty an# re"erence they ought to bear unto themN Bo man li"ing is more boun# to sho! himself thankful in all parts an# respects than thyselfL !ho so uni"ersally sho!est all ingratitu#e$ Doreo"er, my son, thou hast sorely taken of thy country, e/acting grie"ous payments upon them, in re"enge of the injuries offere# theeL besi#es, thou hast not hitherto sho!e# thy poor mother any courtesy$ 6n# therefore it is not only honest, but #ue unto me, that !ithout compulsion ) shoul# obtain my so just an# reasonable reMuest of thee$ %ut since by reason ) cannot persua#e thee to it, to !hat purpose #o ) #efer my last hopeN' 6n# !ith these !or#s herself, his !ife an# chil#ren, fell #o!n upon their knees before him5 Dartius seeing that, coul# refrain no longer, but !ent straight an# lifte# her up, crying out, '?h mother, !hat ha"e you #one to meN' 6n# hol#ing her har# by the right han#, '?h mother,'

sai# he, 'you ha"e !on a happy "ictory for your country, but mortal an# unhappy for your son5 for ) see myself "anMuishe# by you alone$' &hese !or#s being spoken openly, he spake a little apart !ith his mother an# !ife, an# then let them return again to 0ome, for so they #i# reMuest himL an# so remaining in the camp that night, the ne/t morning he #isGlo#ge#, an# marche# home!ar# unto the -olsces' country again$ Shakespeare has, in gi"ing a #ramatic form to this passage, a#here# "ery closely an# properly to the te/t$ He #i# not think it necessary to impro"e upon the truth of nature$ Se"eral of the scenes in @A>)AS C6.S60, particularly Portia's appeal to the confi#ence of her husban# by sho!ing him the !oun# she ha# gi"en herself, an# the appearance of the ghost of Caesar to %rutus, are, in like manner, taken from the history$

&0?)>AS 6B' C0.SS)'6 &his is one of the most loose an# #esultory of our author's plays5 it rambles on just as it happens, but it o"ertakes, together !ith some in#ifferent matter, a pro#igious number of fine things in its !ay$ &roilus himself is no character5 he is merely a common lo"erL but Cressi#a an# her uncle Pan#arus are hit off !ith pro"erbial truth$ %y the speeches gi"en to the lea#ers of the Grecian host, Bestor, Alysses, 6gamemnon, 6chilles, Shakespeare seems to ha"e kno!n them as !ell as if he ha# been a spy sent by the &rojans into the enemy's campGGto say nothing of their being "ery lofty e/amples of #i#actic eloMuence$ &he follo!ing is a "ery stately an# spirite# #eclamation5 Alysses$ &roy, yet upon her basis, ha# been #o!n, 6n# the great Hector's s!or# ha# lack'# a master, %ut for these instances$ &he specialty of rule hath been neglecte#$ $ $ $ $ $

&he hea"ens themsel"es, the planets, an# this centre, ?bser"e #egree, priority, an# place, )nsisture, course, proportion, season, form, ?ffice, an# custom, in all line of or#er5 6n# therefore is the glorious planet, Sol, )n noble eminence, enthron'# an# spher'# 6mi#st the other, !hose me#'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets e"il, 6n# posts, like the comman#ment of a king, Sans check, to goo# an# ba#$ %ut, !hen the planets, )n e"il mi/ture to #isor#er !an#er, What plagues an# !hat portentsN !hat mutiniesN What raging of the seaN shaking of earthN Commotion in the !in#sN frights, changes, horrors, 'i"ert an# crack, ren# an# #eracinate

&he unity an# marrie# calm of states Fuite from their fi/ture4 ?, !hen #egree is shaken, IWhich is the la##er to all high #esignsJ &he enterprise is sick4 Ho! coul# communities, 'egrees in schools, an# brotherhoo#s in cities, Peaceful commerce from #i"i#able shores, &he primogeniti"e an# #ue of birth, Prerogati"e of age, cro!ns, sceptres, laurels, I%ut by #egreeJ stan# in authentic placeN &ake but #egree a!ay, untune that string, 6n# hark !hat #iscor# follo!s4 each thing meets )n mere oppugnancy$ &he boun#e# !aters Woul# lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 6n# make a sop of all this soli# globe5 Strength !oul# be lor# of imbecility, 6n# the ru#e son !oul# strike his father #ea#5 ,orce !oul# be rightL or rather, right an# !rong I%et!een !hose en#less jar @ustice resi#esJ Woul# lose their names, an# so !oul# @ustice too$ &hen e"erything inclu#es itself in po!er, Po!er into !ill, !ill into appetiteL 6n# appetite Ian uni"ersal !olf, So #oubly secon#e# !ith !ill an# po!erJ Dust make perforce an uni"ersal prey, 6n# last, eat up himself$ Great 6gamemnon, &his chaos, !hen #egree is suffocate, ,ollo!s the choking5 6n# this neglection of #egree it is, &hat by a pace goes back!ar#, in a purpose )t hath to climb$ &he general's #is#aine# %y him one step belo!L he, by the ne/tL &hat ne/t, by him beneath5 so e"ery step, ./ample# by the first pace that is sick ?f his superior, gro!s to an en"ious fe"er ?f pale an# bloo#less emulationL 6n#'tis this fe"er that keeps &roy on foot, Bot her o!n sine!s$ &o en# a tale of length, &roy in our !eakness li"es, not in her strength$ )t cannot be sai# of Shakespeare, as !as sai# of some one, that he !as '!ithout o'erflo!ing full'$ He !as full, e"en to o'erflo!ing$ He ga"e heape# measure, running o"er$ &his !as his greatest fault$ He !as only in #anger 'of losing #istinction in his thoughts' Ito borro! his o!n e/pressionJ 6s #oth a battle !hen they charge on heaps &he enemy flying$ &here is another passage, the speech of Alysses to 6chilles, sho!ing him the thankless nature of popularity, !hich has a still greater #epth of moral obser"ation an# richness of illustration than the former$ )t is long, but !orth the Muoting$ &he sometimes gi"ing an entire e/tract from the unacte# plays of our author may !ith one class of rea#ers ha"e almost the use of restoring a lost passageL an# may ser"e to con"ince another class of critics, that the poet's genius !as not confine# to the pro#uction of stage effect by preternatural means$GG

Alysses$ &ime hath, my lor#, a !allet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for ?bli"ionL 6 greatGsiz'# monster of ingratitu#es5 &hose scraps are goo# #ee#s past, Which are #e"our'# as fast as they are ma#e, ,orgot as soon as #one5 Perse"'rance, #ear my lor#, Ceeps Honour bright5 to ha"e #one, is to hang Fuite out of fashion, like a rusty mail )n monumental mockery$ &ake the instant !ayL ,or Honour tra"els in a strait so narro!, Where one but goes abreastL keep then the path, ,or .mulation hath a thousan# sons, &hat one by one pursueL if you gi"e !ay, ?r he#ge asi#e from the #irect forthGright, >ike to an entere# ti#e, they all rush by, 6n# lea"e you hin#mostLGG ?r, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, ?'erGrun an# trample# on5 then !hat they #o in present, &ho' less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours5 ,or &ime is like a fashionable host, &hat slightly shakes his parting guest by th' han#, 6n# !ith his arms outGstretch'#, as he !oul# fly, Grasps in the comer5 the Welcome e"er smiles, 6n# ,are!ell goes out sighing$ ?, let not "irtue seek 0emuneration for the thing it !asL for beauty, !it, High birth, "igour of bone, #esert in ser"ice, >o"e, frien#ship, charity, are subjects all &o en"ious an# calumniating time5 ?ne touch of nature makes the !hole !orl# kin, &hat all, !ith one consent, praise ne!Gborn gau#s, &ho' they are ma#e an# moul#e# of things past$ &he present eye praises the present object$ &hen mar"el not, thou great an# complete man, &hat all the Greeks begin to !orship 6ja/L Since things in motion sooner catch the eye, &han !hat not stirs$ &he cry !ent out on thee, 6n# still it might, an# yet it may again, )f thou !oul#'st not entomb thyself ali"e, 6n# case thy reputation in thy tent$GG &he throng of images in the abo"e lines is pro#igiousL an# though they sometimes jostle against one another, they e"ery!here raise an# carry on the feeling, !hich is metaphysically true an# profoun#$ &he #ebates be!een the &rojan chiefs on the restoring of Helen are full of kno!le#ge of human moti"es an# character$ &roilus enters !ell into the philosophy of !ar, !hen he says in ans!er to something that falls from Hector5 Why there you touch'# the life of our #esign5 Were it not glory that !e more affecte#, &han the performance of our hea"ing spleens, ) !oul# not !ish a #rop of &rojan bloo# Spent more in her #efence$ %ut, !orthy Hector, She is a theme of honour an# reno!n, 6 spur to "aliant an# magnanimous #ee#s$

&he character of Hector, in the fe! slight in#ications !hich appear of it, is ma#e "ery amiable$ His #eath is sublime, an# sho!s in a striking light the mi/ture of barbarity an# heroism of the age$ &he threats of 6chilles are fatalL they carry their o!n means of e/ecution !ith them$ Come here about me, you my Dyrmi#ons, Dark !hat ) say$GG6tten# me !here ) !heel5 Strike not a stroke, but keep yoursel"es in breathL 6n# !hen ) ha"e the bloo#y Hector foun#, .mpale him !ith your !eapons roun# about5 )n fellest manner e/ecute your arms$ ,ollo! me, sirs, an# my procee#ing eye$ He then fin#s Hector an# slays him, as if he ha# !il# beast$ &here is something re"olting as !ell ferocious coolness !ith !hich he singles out his splen#our of the achie"ement reconcile us to the means$ been hunting #o!n a as terrific in the prey5 nor #oes the cruelty of the

&he characters of Cressi#a an# Pan#arus are "ery amusing an# instructi"e$ &he #isintereste# !illingness of Pan#arus to ser"e his frien# in an affair !hich lies ne/t his heart is imme#iately brought for!ar#$ 'Go thy !ay, &roilus, go thy !ayL ha# ) a sister !ere a grace, or a #aughter !ere a go##ess, he shoul# take his choice$ ? a#mirable man4 Paris, Paris is #irt to him, an# ) !arrant Helen, to change, !oul# gi"e money to boot$' &his is the language he a##resses to his nieceL nor is she much behin#han# in coming into the plot$ Her hea# is as light an# fluttering as her heart$ )t is the prettiest "illain, she fetches her breath so short as a ne!Gta'en sparro!$' %oth characters are originals, an# Muite #ifferent from !hat they are in Chaucer$ )n Chaucer, Cressi#a is represente# as a gra"e, sober, consi#erate personage Ia !i#o!GGhe cannot tell her age, nor !hether she has chil#ren or noJ !ho has an alternate eye to her character, her interest, an# her pleasure5 Shakespeare's Cressi#a is a gi##y girl, an unpractise# jilt, !ho falls in lo"e !ith &roilus, as she after!ar#s #eserts him, from mere le"ity an# thoughtlessness of temper$ She may be !ooe# an# !on to anything an# from anything, at a moment's !arning5 the other kno!s "ery !ell !hat she !oul# be at, an# sticks to it, an# is more go"erne# by substantial reasons than by caprice or "anity$ Pan#arus again, in Chaucer's story, is a frien#ly sort of goGbet!een, tolerably busy, officious, an# for!ar# in bringing matters to bear5 but in Shakespeare he has 'a stamp e/clusi"e an# professional'5 he !ears the ba#ge of his tra#eL he is a regular knight of the game$ &he #ifference of the manner in !hich the subject is treate# arises perhaps less from intention, than from the #ifferent genius of the t!o poets$ &here is no #ouble enten#re in the characters of Chaucer5 they are either Muite serious or Muite comic$ )n Shakespeare the lu#icrous an# ironical are constantly blen#e# !ith the stately an# the impassione#$ We see Chaucer's characters as they sa! themsel"es, not as they appeare# to others or might ha"e appeare# to the poet$ He is as #eeply implicate# in the affairs of his personages as they coul# be themsel"es$ He ha# to go a long journey !ith each of them, an# became a kin# of necessary confi#ant$ &here is little relief, or light an# sha#e in his pictures$ &he conscious smile is not seen lurking un#er the bro! of grief or impatience$ ."erything !ith him

is intense an# continuousGGa !orking out of !hat !ent before$GG Shakespeare ne"er committe# himself to his characters$ He trifle#, laughe#, or !ept !ith them as he chose$ He has no preju#ices for or against themL an# it seems a matter of perfect in#ifference !hether he shall be in jest or earnest$ 6ccor#ing to him, 'the !eb of our li"es is of a mingle# yam, goo# an# ill together'$ His genius !as #ramatic, as Chaucer's !as historical$ He sa! both si#es of a Muestion, the #ifferent "ie!s taken of it accor#ing to the #ifferent interests of the parties concerne#, an# he !as at once an actor an# spectator in the scene$ )f anything, he is too "arious an# fle/ibleL too full of transitions, of glancing lights, of salient points$ )f Chaucer follo!e# up his subject too #ogge#ly, perhaps Shakespeare !as too "olatile an# hee#less$ &he Duse's !ing too often lifte# him off his feet$ He ma#e infinite e/cursions to the right an# the left$ GGHe hath #one Da# an# fantastic e/ecution, .ngaging an# re#eeming of himself With such a careless force an# forceless care, 6s if that luck in "ery spite of cunning %a#e him !in all$ Chaucer atten#e# chiefly to the real an# natural, that is, to the in"oluntary an# ine"itable impressions on the min# in gi"en circumstances5 Shakespeare e/hibite# also the possible an# the fantastical,GGnot only !hat things are in themsel"es, but !hate"er they might seem to be, their #ifferent reflections, their en#less combinations$ He lent his fancy, !it, in"ention, to others, an# borro!e# their feelings in return$ Chaucer e/celle# in the force of habitual sentimentL Shakespeare a##e# to it e"ery "ariety of passion, e"ery suggestion of thought or acci#ent$ Chaucer #escribe# e/ternal objects !ith the eye of a painter, or he might be sai# to ha"e embo#ie# them !ith the han# of a sculptor, e"ery part is so thoroughly ma#e out, an# tangible5 Shakespeare's imagination thre! o"er them a lustre GGProu#er than !hen blue )ris ben#s$ ."erything in Chaucer has a #o!nright reality$ 6 simile or a sentiment is as if it !ere gi"en in upon e"i#ence$ )n Shakespeare the commonest matterGofGfact has a romantic grace about itL or seems to float !ith the breath of imagination in a freer element$ Bo one coul# ha"e more #epth of feeling or obser"ation than Chaucer, but he !ante# resources of in"ention to lay open the stores of nature or the human heart !ith the same ra#iant light that Shakespeare has #one$ Ho!e"er fine or profoun# the thought, !e kno! !hat !as coming, !hereas the effect of rea#ing Shakespeare is 'like the eye of "assalage encountering majesty'$ Chaucer's min# !as consecuti"e, rather than #iscursi"e$ He arri"e# at truth through a certain processL Shakespeare sa! e"erything by intuition, Chaucer ha# great "ariety of po!er, but he coul# #o only one thing at once$ He set himself to !ork on a particular subject$ His i#eas !ere kept separate, labelle#, tickete# an# parcelle# out in a set form, in pe!s an# compartments by themsel"es$ &hey #i# not play into one another's han#s$ &hey #i# not reGact upon one another, as the blo!er's breath moul#s the yiel#ing glass$ &here is something har# an# #ry in them$ What is the most !on#erful thing in Shakespeare's

faculties is their e/cessi"e sociability, an# ho! they gossipe# an# compare# notes together$ We must conclu#e this criticismL an# !e !ill #o it !ith a Muotation or t!o$ ?ne of the most beautiful passages in Chaucer's tale is the #escription of Cressei#e's first a"o!al of her lo"e5 6n# as the ne! abashe# nightingale, &hat stinteth first !hen she beginneth sing, When that she heareth any her#e's tale, ?r in the he#ges any !ight stirring, 6n#, after, sicker #oth her "oice outringL 0ight so Cressei#e, !hen that her #rea# stent, ?pene# her heart, an# tol# him her intent$ See also the t!o ne/t stanzas, an# particularly that #i"ine one beginning Her armes small, her back both straight an# soft, Oc$ Compare this !ith the follo!ing speech of &roilus to Cressi#a in the play$ ?, that ) thought it coul# be in a !omanL 6n# if it can, ) !ill presume in you, &o fee# for aye her lamp an# flame of lo"e, &o keep her constancy in plight an# youth, ?utGli"ing beauties out!ar#, !ith a min# &hat #oth rene! s!ifter than bloo# #ecays$ ?r, that persuasion coul# but thus con"ince me, &hat my integrity an# truth to you Dight be affronte# !ith the match an# !eight ?f such a !inno!'# purity in lo"eL Ho! !ere ) then uplifte#4 %ut alas, ) am as true as &ruth's simplicity, 6n# simpler than the infancy of &ruth$ &hese passages may not seem "ery characteristic at first sight, though !e think they are so$ We !ill gi"e t!o, that cannot be mistaken$ Patroclus says to 6chillesL GG0ouse yourselfL an# the !eak !anton Cupi# Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fol#, 6n# like a #e!G#rop from the lion's mane, %e shook to air$ &roilus, a##ressing the Go# of 'ay on the approach of the morning that parts him from Cressi#a, says !ith much scorn5 What4 proffer'st thou thy light here for to sellN Go, sell it them that smalle seles gra"e$ )f nobo#y but Shakespeare coul# ha"e !ritten the former, nobo#y but Chaucer !oul# ha"e thought of the latter$GGChaucer !as the most literal of poets, as 0ichar#son !as of proseG!riters$

6B&?B* 6B' C>.?P6&06 &his is a "ery noble play$ &hough not in the first class of Shakespeare's pro#uctions, it stan#s ne/t to them, an# is, !e think, the finest of his historical plays, that is, of those in !hich he ma#e poetry the organ of history, an# assume# a certain tone of character an# sentiment, in conformity to kno!n facts, instea# of trusting to his obser"ations of general nature or to the unlimite# in#ulgence of his o!n fancy$ What he has a##e# to the history, is upon a par !ith it$ His genius !as, as it !ere, a match for history as !ell as nature, an# coul# grapple at !ill !ith either$ &his play is full of that per"a#ing comprehensi"e po!er by !hich the poet coul# al!ays make himself master of time an# circumstances$ )t presents a fine picture of 0oman pri#e an# .astern magnificence5 an# in the struggle bet!een the t!o, the empire of the !orl# seems suspen#e#, 'like the s!an's #o!nGfeather5 &hat stan#s upon the s!ell at full of ti#e, 6n# neither !ay inclines$' &he characters breathe, mo"e, an# li"e$ Shakespeare #oes not stan# reasoning on !hat his characters !oul# #o or say, but at once %.C?D.S them, an# speaks an# acts for them$ He #oes not present us !ith groups of stageGpuppets or poetical machines making set speeches on human life, an# acting from a calculation of ostensible moti"es, but he brings li"ing men an# !omen on the scene, !ho speak an# act from real feelings, accor#ing to the ebbs an# flo!s of passion, !ithout the least tincture of the pe#antry of logic or rhetoric$ Bothing is ma#e out by inference an# analogy, by clima/ an# antithesis, but e"erything takes place just as it !oul# ha"e #one in reality, accor#ing to the occasion$GG&he character of Cleopatra is a masterpiece$ What an e/treme contrast it affor#s to )mogen4 ?ne !oul# think it almost impossible for the same person to ha"e #ra!n both$ She is "oluptuous, ostentatious, conscious, boastful of her charms, haughty, tyrannical, fickle$ &he lu/urious pomp an# gorgeous e/tra"agance of the .gyptian Mueen are #isplaye# in all their force an# lustre, as !ell as the irregular gran#eur of the soul of Dark 6ntony$ &ake only the first four lines that they speak as an e/ample of the regal style of lo"eGmaking$ Cleopatra$ )f it be lo"e, in#ee#, tell me ho! muchN 6ntony$ &here's beggary in the lo"e that can be reckon'#$ Cleopatra$ )'ll set a bourn ho! far to be belo"'#$ 6ntony$ &hen must thou nee#s fin# out ne! hea"'n, ne! earth$ &he rich an# poetical #escription of her person, beginning5 &he barge she sat in, like a burnish'# throne, %urnt on the !aterL the poop !as beaten gol#, Purple the sails, an# so perfume#, that

&he !in#s !ere lo"eGsickGG seems to prepare the !ay for, an# almost to justify the subseMuent infatuation of 6ntony !hen in the seaGfight at 6ctium, he lea"es the battle, an# 'like a #oting mallar#' follo!s her flying sails$ ,e! things in Shakespeare Ian# !e kno! of nothing in any other author like themJ ha"e more of that local truth of imagination an# character than the passage in !hich Cleopatra is represente# conjecturing !hat !ere the employments of 6ntony in his absence$ 'He's speaking no!, or murmuringGGWH.0.'S D* S.0P.B& ?, ?>' B)>.N' ?r again, !hen she says to 6ntony, after the #efeat at 6ctium, an# his summoning up resolution to risk another fightGG')t is my birth#ayL ) ha# thought to ha"e hel# it poorL but since my lor# is 6ntony again, ) !ill be Cleopatra$' Perhaps the finest burst of all is 6ntony's rage after his final #efeat !hen he comes in, an# surprises the messenger of Caesar kissing her han#5 &o let a fello! that !ill take re!ar#s, 6n# say, Go# Muit you, be familiar !ith Dy playGfello!, your han#L this kingly seal, 6n# plighter of high hearts$ )t is no !on#er that he or#ers him to be !hippe#L but his lo! con#ition is not the true reason5 there is another feeling !hich lies #eeper, though 6ntony's pri#e !oul# not let him sho! it, e/cept by his rageL he suspects the fello! to be Caesar's pro/y$ Cleopatra's !hole character is the triumph of the "oluptuous, of the lo"e of pleasure an# the po!er of gi"ing it, o"er e"ery other consi#eration$ ?cta"ia is a #ull foil to her, an# ,ul"ia a shre! an# shrillGtongue#$ What a picture #o those lines gi"e of her5 6ge cannot !ither her, nor custom stale Her infinite "ariety$ ?ther !omen cloy &he appetites they fee#, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies$ What a spirit an# fire in her con"ersation !ith 6ntony's messenger !ho brings her the un!elcome ne!s of his marriage !ith ?cta"ia4 Ho! all the pri#e of beauty an# of high rank breaks out in her promise# re!ar# to him5 GG&here's gol#, an# here Dy bluest "eins to kiss4 She ha# great an# unpar#onable faults, but the beauty of her #eath almost re#eems them$ She learns from the #epth of #espair the strength of her affections$ She keeps her MueenGlike state in the last #isgrace, an# her sense of the pleasurable in the last moments of her life$ She tastes a lu/ury in #eath$ 6fter applying the asp, she says !ith fon#ness5 'ost thou not see my baby at my breast, &hat sucks the nurse asleepN 6s s!eet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle$ ?h 6ntony4

)t is !orth !hile to obser"e that Shakespeare has contraste# the e/treme magnificence of the #escriptions in this play !ith pictures of e/treme suffering an# physical horror, not less strikingGGpartly perhaps to e/cuse the effeminacy of Dark 6ntony to !hom they are relate# as ha"ing happene#, but more to preser"e a certain balance of feeling in the min#$ Caesar says, hearing of his con#uct at the court of Cleopatra5 GG6ntony, >ea"e thy lasci"ious !assails$ When thou once Wert beaten from Dutina, !here thou sle!'st Hirtius an# Pansa, consuls, at thy heel 'i# famine follo!, !hom thou fought'st against, &hough #aintily brought up, !ith patience more &han sa"ages coul# suffer$ &hou #i#'st #rink &he stale of horses, an# the gil#e# pu##le Which beast !oul# cough at$ &hy palate then #i# #eign &he roughest berry on the ru#est he#ge, *ea, like the stag, !hen sno! the pasture sheets, &he barks of trees thou bro!se#'st$ ?n the 6lps, )t is reporte#, thou #i#'st eat strange flesh, Which some #i# #ie to look on5 an# all this, )t !oun#s thine honour, that ) speak it no!, Was borne so like a sol#ier, that thy cheek So much as lank'# not$ &he passage after 6ntony's #efeat by 6ugustus !here he is ma#e to say5 *es, yesL he at Philippi kept His s!or# e'en like a #ancerL !hile ) struck &he lean an# !rinkle# Cassius, an# 't!as ) &hat the ma# %rutus en#e#, is one of those fine retrospections !hich sho! us the !in#ing an# e"entful march of human life$ &he jealous attention !hich has been pai# to the unities both of time an# place has taken a!ay the principle of perspecti"e in the #rama, an# all the interest !hich objects #eri"e from #istance, from contrast, from pri"ation, from change of fortune, from longGcherishe# passionL an# contracts our "ie! of life from a strange an# romantic #ream, long, obscure, an# infinite, into a smartly conteste#, three hours' inaugural #isputation on its merits by the #ifferent can#i#ates for theatrical applause$ &he latter scenes of 6B&?B* 6B' C>.?P6&06 are full of the changes of acci#ent an# passion$ Success an# #efeat follo! one another !ith startling rapi#ity$ ,orGtune sits upon her !heel more blin# an# gi##y than usual$ &his precarious state an# the approaching #issolution of his greatness are strikingly #isplaye# in the #ialogue bet!een 6ntony an# .ros5 6ntony$ .ros, thou yet behol#'st meN .ros$ 6y, noble lor#$

6ntony$ Sometime !e see a clou# that's #ragonish, 6 "apour sometime, like a bear or lion, 6 to!ere# cita#el, a pen#ant rock, 6 forke# mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that no# unto the !orl# 6n# mock our eyes !ith air$ &hou hast seen these signs, &hey are black "esper's pageants$ .ros$ 6y, my lor#$ 6ntony$ &hat !hich is no! a horse, e"en !ith a thought &he rack #islimns, an# makes it in#istinct 6s !ater is in !ater$ .ros$ )t #oes, my lor#$ 6ntony$ Dy goo# kna"e, .ros, no! thy captain is ."en such a bo#y, Oc$ &his is, !ithout #oubt, one of the finest pieces of poetry in Shakespeare$ &he splen#our of the imagery, the semblance of reality, the lofty range of picturesMue objects hanging o"er the !orl#, their e"anescent nature, the total uncertainty of !hat is left behin#, are ' just like the moul#ering schemes of human greatness$ )t is finer than Cleopatra's passionate lamentation o"er his fallen gran#eur, because it is more #im, unstable, unsubstantial$ 6ntony's hea#strong presumption an# infatuate# #etermination to yiel# to Cleopatra's !ishes to fight by sea instea# of lan#, meet a merite# punishmentL an# the e/tra"agance of his resolutions, increasing !ith the #esperateness of his circumstances, is !ell commente# upon by .nobarbus5 GG) see men's ju#gements are 6 parcel of their fortunes, an# things out!ar# 'o #ra! the in!ar# Muality after them &o suffer all alike$ &he repentance of .nobarbus after his treachery to his master is the most affecting part of the play$ He cannot reco"er from the blo! !hich 6ntony's generosity gi"es him, an# he #ies brokenGhearte# 'a masterGlea"er an# a fugiti"e'$ Shakespeare's genius has sprea# o"er the !hole play a richness like the o"erflo!ing of the Bile$

H6D>.& &his is that Hamlet the 'ane, !hom !e rea# of in our youth, an# !hom !e seem almost to remember in our afterGyearsL he !ho ma#e that famous soliloMuy on life, !ho ga"e the a#"ice to the players, !ho thought 'this goo#ly frame, the earth, a sterile promontory, an# this bra"e o'erGhanging firmament, the air, this majestical roof

frette# !ith gol#en fire, a foul an# pestilent congregation of "apours'L !hom 'man #elighte# not, nor !oman neither'L he !ho talke# !ith the gra"eG#iggers, an# moralize# on *orick's skullL the schoolfello! of 0osencraus an# Guil#enstern at WittenbergL the frien# of HoratioL the lo"er of ?pheliaL he that !as ma# an# sent to .nglan#L the slo! a"enger of his father's #eathL !ho li"e# at the court of Hor!en#illus fi"e hun#re# years before !e !ere born, but all !hose thoughts !e seem to kno! as !ell as !e #o our o!n, because !e ha"e rea# them in Shakespeare$ Hamlet is a name5 his speeches an# sayings but the i#le coinage of the poet's brain$ What then, are they not realN &hey are as real as our o!n thoughts$ &heir reality is in the rea#er's min#$ )t is W. !ho are Hamlet$ &his play has a prophetic truth, !hich is abo"e that of history$ Whoe"er has become thoughtful an# melancholy through his o!n mishaps or those of othersL !hoe"er has borne about !ith him the clou#e# bro! of reflection, an# thought himself 'too much i' th' sun'L !hoe"er has seen the gol#en lamp of #ay #imme# by en"ious mists rising in his o!n breast, an# coul# fin# in the !orl# before him only a #ull blank !ith nothing left remarkable in itL !hoe"er has kno!n (the pangs of #espise# lo"e, the insolence of office, or the spurns !hich patient merit of the un!orthy takes(L he !ho has felt his min# sink !ithin him, an# sa#ness cling to his heart like a mala#y, !ho has ha# his hopes blighte# an# his youth staggere# by the apparitions of strange thingsL !ho cannot be !ell at ease, !hile he sees e"il ho"ering near him like a spectreL !hose po!ers of action ha"e been eaten up by thought, he to !hom the uni"erse seems infinite, an# himself nothingL !hose bitterness of soul makes him careless of conseMuences, an# !ho goes to a play as his best resource to sho"e off, to a secon# remo"e, the e"ils of life by a mockGpresentation of themGGthis is the true Hamlet$ We ha"e been so use# to this trage#y that !e har#ly kno! ho! to criticize it any more than !e shoul# kno! ho! to #escribe our o!n faces$ %ut !e must make such obser"ations as !e can$ )t is the one of Shakespeare's plays that !e think of oftenest, because it aboun#s most in striking reflections on human life, an# because the #istresses of Hamlet are transferre#, by the turn of his min#, to the general account of humanity$ Whate"er happens to him, !e apply to oursel"es, because he applies it so himself as a means of general reasoning$ He is a great moralizerL an# !hat makes him !orth atten#ing to is, that he moralizes on his o!n feelings an# e/perience$ He is not a commonplace pe#ant$ )f >ear sho!s the greatest #epth of passion, Hamlet is the most remarkable for the ingenuity, originality, an# unstu#ie# #e"elopment of character$ Shakespeare ha# more magnanimity than any other poet, an# he has sho!n more of it in this play than in any other$ &here is no attempt to force an interest5 e"erything is left for time an# circumstances to unfol#$ &he attention is e/cite# !ithout effort, the inci#ents succee# each other as matters of course, the characters think an# speak an# act just as they might #o, if left entirely to themsel"es$ &here is no set purpose, no straining at a point$ &he obser"ations are suggeste# by the passing sceneGGthe gusts of passion come an# go like soun#s of music borne on the !in#$ &he !hole play is an e/act transcript of !hat might be suppose# to ha"e taken place at the court of 'enmark, at the remote perio# of time fi/e# upon, before the mo#ern refinements in morals an# manners !ere hear# of$ )t !oul#

ha"e been interesting enough to ha"e been a#mitte# as a bystan#er in such a scene, at such a time, to ha"e hear# an# seen something of !hat !as going on$ %ut here !e are more than spectators$ We ha"e not only 'the out!ar# pageants an# the signs of griefL but '!e ha"e that !ithin !hich passes sho!'$ We rea# the thoughts of the heart, !e catch the passions li"ing as they rise$ ?ther #ramatic !riters gi"e us "ery fine "ersions an# paraphrases of nature5 but Shakespeare, together !ith his o!n comments, gi"es us the original te/t, that !e may ju#ge for oursel"es$ &his is a "ery great a#"antage$ &he character of Hamlet is itself a pure effusion of genius$ )t is not a character marke# by strength of !ill or e"en of passion, but by refinement of thought an# sentiment$ Hamlet is as little of the hero as a man can !ell be5 but he is a young an# princely no"ice, full of high enthusiasm an# Muick sensibilityGGthe sport of circumstances, Muestioning !ith fortune an# refining on his o!n feelings, an# force# from the natural bias of his #isposition by the strangeness of his situation$ He seems incapable of #eliberate action, an# is only hurrie# into e/tremities on the spur of the occasion, !hen he has no time to reflect, as in the scene !here he kills Polonius, an# again, !here he alters the letters !hich 0osencraus an# Guil#enstern are taking !ith them to .nglan#, purporting his #eath$ 6t other times, !hen he is most boun# to act, he remains puzzle#, un#eci#e#, an# sceptical, #allies !ith his purposes, till the occasion is lost, an# al!ays fin#s some pretence to relapse into in#olence an# thoughtfulness again$ ,or this reason he refuses to kill the Cing !hen he is at his prayers, an# by a refinement in malice, !hich is in truth only an e/cuse for his o!n !ant of resolution, #efers his re"enge to some more fatal opportunity, !hen he shall be engage# in some act 'that has no relish of sal"ation in it'5 He kneels an# prays, 6n# no! )'ll #o't, an# so he goes to hea"en, 6n# so am ) re"eng'#L &H6& W?A>' %. SC6BB''$ He kill'# my father, an# for that, ), his sole son, sen# him to hea"en$ Why this is re!ar#, not re"enge$ Ap s!or# an# kno! thou a more horri# time, When he is #runk, asleep, or in a rage$ He is the prince of philosophical speculators, an# because he cannot ha"e his re"enge perfect, accor#ing to the most refine# i#ea his !ish can form, he misses it altogether$ So he scruples to trust the suggestions of the Ghost, contri"es the scene of the play to ha"e surer proof of his uncle's guilt, an# then rests satisfie# !ith this confirmation of his suspicions, an# the success of his e/periment, instea# of acting upon it$ *et he is sensible of his o!n !eakness, ta/es himself !ith it, an# tries to reason himself out of it5 Ho! all occasions #o inform against me, 6n# spur my #ull re"enge4 What is a man, )f his chief goo# an# market of his time %e but to sleep an# fee#N 6 beastL no more$ Sure he that ma#e us !ith such large #iscourse, >ooking before an# after, ga"e us not &hat capability an# go#Glike reason

&o rust in us unus'#5 no! !hether it be %estial obli"ion, or some cra"en scruple ?f thinking too precisely on th' e"ent,GG 6 thought !hich Muarter'#, hath but one part !is#om, 6n# e"er three parts co!ar#LGG) #o not kno! Why yet ) li"e to say, this thing's to #oL Sith ) ha"e cause, an# !ill, an# strength, an# means &o #o it$ ./amples gross as earth e/cite me5 Witness this army of such mass an# charge, >e# by a #elicate an# ten#er prince, Whose spirit !ith #i"ine ambition puff'#, Dakes mouths at the in"isible e"ent, ./posing !hat is mortal an# unsure &o all that fortune, #eath, an# #anger #are, ."en for an eggGshell$ '&is not to be great, Be"er to stir !ithout great argumentL %ut greatly to fin# Muarrel in a stra!, When honour's at the stake$ Ho! stan# ) then, &hat ha"e a father kill'#, a mother stain'#, ./citements of my reason an# my bloo#, 6n# let all sleep, !hile to my shame ) see &he imminent #eath of t!enty thousan# men, &hat for a fantasy an# trick of fame, Go to their gra"es like be#s, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough an# continent &o hi#e the slainNGG?, from this time forth, Dy thoughts be bloo#y or be nothing !orth$ Still he #oes nothingL an# this "ery speculation on his o!n infirmity only affor#s him another occasion for in#ulging it$ )t is not for any !ant of attachment to his father or abhorrence of his mur#er that Hamlet is thus #ilatory, but it is more to his taste to in#ulge his imagination in reflecting upon the enormity of the crime an# refining on his schemes of "engeance, than to put them into imme#iate practice$ His ruling passion is to think, not to act5 an# any "ague pretence that flatters this propensity instantly #i"erts him from his pre"ious purposes$ &he moral perfection of this character has been calle# in Muestion, !e think, by those !ho #i# not un#erstan# it$ )t is more interesting than accor#ing to rules5 amiable, though not faultless$ &he ethical #elineations of 'that noble an# liberal casuist' Ias Shakespeare has been !ell calle#J #o not e/hibit the #rabGcoloure# Muakerism of morality$ His plays are not copie# either from &he Whole 'uty of Dan, or from &he 6ca#emy of Compliments4 We confess, !e are a little shocke# at the !ant of refinement in those !ho are shocke# at the !ant of refinement in Hamlet$ &he !ant of punctilious e/actness in his beha"iour either partakes of the 'license of the time', or else belongs to the "ery e/cess of intellectual refinement in the character, !hich makes the common rules of life, as !ell as his o!n purposes, sit loose upon him$ He may be sai# to be amenable only to the tribunal of his o!n thoughts, an# is too much taken up !ith the airy !orl# of contemplation to lay as much stress as he ought on the practical conseMuences of things$ His habitual principles of action are unhinge# an# out of joint !ith the time$ His con#uct to ?phelia is Muite natural in his circumstances$ )t is that of assume#

se"erity only$ )t is the effect of #isappointe# hope, of bitter regrets, of affection suspen#e#, not obliterate#, by the #istractions of the scene aroun# him4 6mi#st the natural an# preternatural horrors of his situation, he might be e/cuse# in #elicacy from carrying on a regular courtship$ When 'his father's spirit !as in arms', it !as not a time for the son to make lo"e in$ He coul# neither marry ?phelia, nor !oun# her min# by e/plaining the cause of his alienation, !hich he #urst har#ly trust himself to think of$ )t !oul# ha"e taken him years to ha"e come to a #irect e/planation on the point$ )n the harasse# state of his min#, he coul# not ha"e #one other!ise than he #i#$ His con#uct #oes not contra#ict !hat he says !hen he sees her funeral5 ) lo"e# ?phelia5 forty thousan# brothers Coul# not !ith all their Muantity of lo"e Dake up my sum$ Bothing can be more affecting or beautiful than the Fueen's apostrophe to ?phelia on thro!ing flo!ers into the gra"e5 GGS!eets to the s!eet, fare!ell$ ) hop'# thou shoul#'st ha"e been my Hamlet's !ife5 ) thought thy bri#eGbe# to ha"e #eck'#, s!eet mai#, 6n# not ha"e stre!'# thy gra"e$ Shakespeare !as thoroughly a master of the mi/e# moti"es of human character, an# he here sho!s us the Fueen, !ho !as so criminal in some respects, not !ithout sensibility an# affection in other relations of life$GG?phelia is a character almost too e/Muisitely touching to be #!elt upon$ ?h rose of Day, oh flo!er too soon fa#e#4 Her lo"e, her ma#ness, her #eath, are #escribe# !ith the truest touches of ten#erness an# pathos$ )t is a character !hich nobo#y but Shakespeare coul# ha"e #ra!n in the !ay that he has #one, an# to the conception of !hich there is not e"en the smallest approach, e/cept in some of the ol# romantic balla#s$ Her brother, >aertes, is a character !e #o not like so !ellL he is too hot an# choleric, an# some!hat ro#omonta#e$ Polonius is a perfect character in its kin#L nor is there any foun#ation for the objections !hich ha"e been ma#e to the consistency of this part$ )t is sai# that he acts "ery foolishly an# talks "ery sensibly$ &here is no inconsistency in that$ 6gain, that he talks !isely at one time an# foolishly at anotherL that his a#"ice to >aertes is "ery sensible, an# his a#"ice to the Cing an# Fueen on the subject of Hamlet's ma#ness "ery ri#iculous$ %ut he gi"es the one as a father, an# is sincere in itL he gi"es the other as a mere courtier, a busyGbo#y, an# is accor#ingly officious, garrulous, an# impertinent$ )n short, Shakespeare has been accuse# of inconsistency in this an# other characters, only because he has kept up the #istinction !hich there is in nature, bet!een the un#erstan#ings an# the moral habits of men, bet!een the absur#ity of their i#eas an# the absur#ity of their moti"es$ Polonius is not a fool, but he makes himself so$ His folly, !hether in his actions or speeches, comes un#er the hea# of impropriety of intention$ We #o not like to see our author's plays acte#, an# least of all, Hamlet$ &here is no play that suffers so much in being transferre# to the stage$ Hamlet himself seems har#ly capable of being acte#$

Dr$ Cemble una"oi#ably fails in this character from a !ant of ease an# "ariety$ &he character of Hamlet is ma#e up of un#ulating linesL it has the yiel#ing fle/ibility of 'a !a"e o' th' sea'$ Dr$ Cemble plays it like a man in armour, !ith a #etermine# in"eteracy of purpose, in one un#e"iating straight line, !hich is as remote from the natural grace an# refine# susceptibility of the character as the sharp angles an# abrupt starts !hich Dr$ Cean intro#uces into the part$ Dr$ Cean's Hamlet is as much too splenetic an# rash as Dr$ Cemble's is too #eliberate an# formal$ His manner is too strong an# pointe#$ He thro!s a se"erity, approaching to "irulence into the common obser"ations an# ans!ers$ &here is nothing of this in Hamlet$ He is, as it !ere, !rappe# up in his reflections, an# only &H)BCS 6>?A'$ &here shoul# therefore be no attempt to impress !hat he says upon others by a stu#ie# e/aggeration of emphasis or mannerL no &6>C)BG 6& his hearers$ &here shoul# be as much of the gentleman an# scholar as possible infuse# into the part, an# as little of the actor, 6 pensi"e air of sa#ness shoul# sit reluctantly upon his bro!, but no appearance of fi/e# an# sullen gloom$ He is full of !eakness an# melancholy, but there is no harshness in his nature$ He is the most amiable of misanthropes$

&H. &.DP.S&$ &here can be little #oubt that Shakespeare !as the most uni"ersal genius that e"er li"e#$ '.ither for trage#y, come#y, history, pastoral, pastoralGcomical, historicalGpastoral, scene in#i"i#able or poem unlimite#, he is the only man$ Seneca cannot be too hea"y, nor Plautus too light for him$' He has not only the same absolute comman# o"er our laughter an# our tears, all the resources of passion, of !it, of thought, of obser"ation, but he has the most unboun#e# range of fanciful in"ention, !hether terrible or playful, the same insight into the !orl# of imagination that he has into the !orl# of realityL an# o"er all there presi#es the same truth of character an# nature, an# the same spirit of humanity$ His i#eal beings are as true an# natural as his real charactersL that is, as consistent !ith themsel"es, or if !e suppose such beings to e/ist at all, they coul# not act, speak, or feel other!ise than as he makes them$ He has in"ente# for them a language, manners, an# sentiments of their o!n, from the tremen#ous imprecations of the Witches in D6C%.&H, !hen they #o 'a #ee# !ithout a name', to the sylphGlike e/pressions 'of 6riel, !ho '#oes his spiriting gently'L the mischie"ous tricks an# gossiping of 0obin Goo#fello!, or the uncouth gabbling an# emphatic gesticulations of Caliban in this play$ &H. &.DP.S& is one of the most original an# perfect of Shakespeare's pro#uctions, an# he has sho!n in it all the "ariety of his po!ers$ )t is full of grace an# gran#eur$ &he human an# imaginary characters, the #ramatic an# the grotesMue, are blen#e# together !ith the greatest art, an# !ithout any appearance of it$ &hough he has here gi"en 'to airy nothing a local habitation an# a name', yet that part !hich is only the fantastic creation of his min#, has the same palpable te/ture, an# coheres 'semblably' !ith the rest$ 6s the

preternatural part has the air of reality, an# almost haunts the imagination !ith a sense of truth, the real characters an# e"ents partake of the !il#ness of a #ream$ &he stately magician, Prospero, #ri"en from his #uke#om, but aroun# !hom Iso potent is his artJ airy spirits throng numberless to #o his bi##ingL his #aughter Diran#a I'!orthy of that name'J to !hom all the po!er of his art points, an# !ho seems the go##ess of the isleL the princely ,er#inan#, cast by fate upon the ha"en of his happiness in this i#ol of his lo"eL the #elicate 6rielL the sa"age Caliban, half brute, half #emonL the #runken ship's cre!GGare all connecte# parts of the story, an# can har#ly be spare# from the place they fill$ ."en the local scenery is of a piece an# character !ith the subject$ Prospero's enchante# islan# seems to ha"e risen up out of the seaL the airy music, the tempestGtosse# "essel, the turbulent !a"es, all ha"e the effect of the lan#scape backgroun# of some fine picture$ Shakespeare's pencil is Ito use an allusion of his o!nJ 'like the #yer's han#, sub#ue# to !hat it !orks in'$ ."erything in him, though it partakes of 'the liberty of !it', is also subjecte# to 'the la!' of the un#erstan#ing$ ,or instance, e"en the #runken sailors, !ho are ma#e reelingGripe, share, in the #isor#er of their min#s an# bo#ies, in the tumult of the elements, an# seem on shore to be as much at the mercy of chance as they !ere before at the mercy of the !in#s an# !a"es$ &hese fello!s !ith their seaG!it are the least to our taste of any part of the play5 but they are as like #runken sailors as they can be, an# are an in#irect foil to Caliban, !hose figure acMuires a classical #ignity in the comparison$ &he character of Caliban is generally thought Ian# justly soJ to be one of the author's masterpieces$ )t is not in#ee# pleasant to see this character on the stage any more than it is to see the Go# Pan personate# there$ %ut in itself it is one of the !il#est an# most abstracte# of all Shakespeare's characters, !hose #eformity !hether of bo#y or min# is re#eeme# by the po!er an# truth of the imagination #isplaye# in it$ )t is the essence of grossness, but there is not a particle of "ulgarity in it$ Shakespeare has #escribe# the brutal min# of Caliban in contact !ith the pure an# original forms of natureL the character gro!s out of the soil !here it is roote# uncontrolle#, uncouth an# !il#, uncrampe# by any of the meannesses of custom$ )t is 'of the earth, earthy'$ )t seems almost to ha"e been #ug out of the groun#, !ith a soul instincti"ely supera##e# to it ans!ering to its !ants an# origin$ -ulgarity is not natural coarseness, but con"entional coarseness, learnt from others, contrary to, or !ithout an entire conformity of natural po!er an# #ispositionL as fashion is the commonplace affectation of !hat is elegant an# refine# !ithout any feeling of the essence of it$ Schlegel, the a#mirable German critic on Shakespeare obser"es that Caliban is a poetical character, an# 'al!ays speaks in blank "erse'$ He first comes in thus5 Caliban$ 6s !icke# #e! as e'er my mother brush'# With ra"en's feather from un!holesome fen, 'rop on you both5 a southG!est blo! on ye, 6n# blister you all o'er4 Prospero$ ,or this, be sure, toGnight thou shalt ha"e cramps, Si#eGstitches that shall pen thy breath upL urchins Shall for that "ast of night that they may !ork,

6ll e/ercise on thee5 thou shalt be pinch'# 6s thick as honeyGcombs, each pinch more stinging &han bees that ma#e 'em$ Caliban$ ) must eat my #inner$ &his islan#'s mine by Sycora/ my mother, Which thou tak'st from me$ When thou camest first, &hou strok'#st me, an# ma#'st much of meL !oul#'st gi"e me Water !ith berries in 'tL an# teach me ho! &o name the bigger light an# ho! the less &hat burn by #ay an# nightL an# then ) lo"'# thee, 6n# sho!'# thee all the Mualities o' th' isle, &he fresh springs, brineGpits, barren place an# fertile5 Curs'# be ) that ) #i# so4 6ll the charms ?f Sycora/, toa#s, beetles, bats, light on you4 ,or ) am all the subjects that you ha"e, Who first !as mine o!n kingL an# here you sty me )n this har# rock, !hiles you #o keep from me &he rest o' th' islan#$ 6n# again, he promises &rinculo his ser"ices thus, if he !ill free him from his #ru#gery$ )'ll sho! thee the best springsL )'ll pluck thee berries, )'ll fish for thee, an# get thee !oo# enough$ ) pr'ythee let me bring thee !here crabs gro!, 6n# ) !ith my long nails !ill #ig thee pigGnuts5 Sho! thee a jay's nest, an# instruct thee ho! &o snare the nimble marmozet5 )'ll bring thee &o clust'ring filber#sL an# sometimes )'ll get thee *oung scamels from the rock$ )n con#ucting Stephano an# &rinculo to Prospero's cell, Caliban sho!s the superiority of natural capacity o"er greater kno!le#ge an# greater follyL an# in a former scene, !hen 6riel frightens them !ith his music, Caliban to encourage them accounts for it in the eloMuent poetry of the senses5 %e not afrai#, the isle is full of noises, Soun#s, an# s!eet airs, that gi"e #elight an# hurt not$ Sometimes a thousan# t!anging instruments Will hum about mine ears, an# sometimes "oices, &hat if ) then ha# !ake# after long sleep, Woul# make me sleep againL an# then in #reaming, &he clou#s methought !oul# open, an# sho! riches 0ea#y to #rop upon me5 !hen ) !ak'# ) crie# to #ream again$ &his is not more beautiful than it is true$ &he poet here sho!s us the sa"age !ith the simplicity of a chil#, an# makes the strange monster amiable$ Shakespeare ha# to paint the human animal ru#e an# !ithout choice in its pleasures, but not !ithout the sense of pleasure or some germ of the affections$ Daster %arnar#ine in Deasure for Deasure, the sa"age of ci"ilize# life, is an a#mirable philosophical counterpart to Caliban$

Shakespeare has, as it !ere by #esign, #ra!n off from Caliban the elements of !hate"er is ethereal an# refine#, to compoun# them in the unearthly moul# of 6riel$ Bothing !as e"er more finely concei"e# than this contrast bet!een the material an# the spiritual, the gross an# #elicate$ 6riel is imaginary po!er, the s!iftness of thought personifie#$ When tol# to make goo# spee# by Prospero, he says, ') #rink the air before me$' &his is something like Puck's boast on a similar occasion, ')'ll put a gir#le roun# about the earth in forty minutes$' %ut 6riel #iffers from Puck in ha"ing a fello!Gfeeling in the interests of those he is employe# about$ Ho! e/Muisite is the follo!ing #ialogue bet!een him an# Prospero4 6riel$ *our charm so strongly !orks 'em, &hat if you no! behel# them, your affections Woul# become ten#er$ Prospero$ 'ost thou think so, spiritN 6riel$ Dine !oul#, sir, !ere ) human$ Prospero$ 6n# mine shall$ Hast thou, !hich art but air, a touch, a feeling ?f their afflictions, an# shall not myself, ?ne of their kin#, that relish all as sharply, Passion'# as they, be kin#lier mo"e# than thou artN )t has been obser"e# that there is a peculiar charm in the songs intro#uce# in Shakespeare, !hich, !ithout con"eying any #istinct images, seem to recall all the feelings connecte# !ith them, like snatches of halfGforgotten music hear# in#istinctly an# at inter"als$ &here is this effect pro#uce# by 6riel's songs, !hich Ias !e are tol#J seem to soun# in the air, an# as if the person playing them !ere in"isible$ We shall gi"e one instance out of many of this general po!er$ .nter ,er#inen#L an# 6riel in"isible, playing an# singing$ 6riel's Song Come unto these yello! san#s, 6n# then take han#sL Curt'sie# !hen you ha"e, an# kiss'#, I&he !il# !a"es !histLJ ,oot it featly here an# thereL 6n# s!eet sprites the bur#en bear$ :%ur#en #isperse#ly$= Hark, hark4 bo!ghG!o!gh5 the !atchG#ogs bark, %o!ghG!o!gh$ 6riel$ Hark, hark4 ) hear &he strain of strutting chanticleer Cry cockGaG#oo#leG#oo$ ,er#inan#$ Where shoul# this music beN )t soun#s no more5 an# sure it !aits Some go# o' th' islan#$ Sitting on a Weeping against the king my father's in air or earthN upon bank !reck,

&his music crept by me upon the !aters, 6llaying both their fury an# my passion With its s!eet airL thence ) ha"e follo!'# it, ?r it hath #ra!n me rather5GGbut 'tis gone$GG Bo, it begins again$ 6riel's Song ,ull fathom ."e thy father lies, ?f his bones are coral ma#e5 &hose are pearls that !ere his eyes, Bothing of him that #oth fa#e, %ut #oth suffer a sea change, )nto something rich an# strange$ SeaGnymphs hourly ring his knellGG Hark4 ) no! ) hear them, #ingG#ong bell$ :%ur#en #ingG#ong$= ,er#inan#$ &he #itty #oes remember my #ro!n'# father$ &his is no mortal business, nor no soun# &hat the earth o!ns5 ) hear it no! abo"e me$ &he courtship bet!een ,er#inan# an# Diran#a is one of the chief beauties of this play$ )t is the "ery purity of lo"e$ &he preten#e# interference of Prospero !ith it heightens its interest, an# is in character !ith the magician, !hose sense of preternatural po!er makes him arbitrary, tetchy, an# impatient of opposition$ &he &empest is a finer play than the Di#summer Bight's 'ream, !hich has sometimes been compare# !ith itL but it is not so fine a poem$ &here are a greater number of beautiful passages in the latter$ &!o of the most striking in &he &empest are spoken by Prospero$ &he one is that a#mirable one !hen the "ision !hich he has conjure# up #isappears, beginning, '&he clou#Gcapp'# to!ers, the gorgeous palaces,' Oc$, !hich has so often been Muote# that e"ery schoolboy kno!s it by heartL the other is that !hich Prospero makes in abjuring his art5 *e el"es of hills, brooks, stan#ing lakes, an# gro"es, 6n# ye that on the san#s !ith printless foot 'o chase the ebbing Beptune, an# #o fly him When he comes backL you #emiGpuppets, that %y moonshine #o the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the e!e not bitesL an# you !hose pastime )s to make mi#night mushrooms, that rejoice &o hear the solemn curfe!, by !hose ai# IWeak masters tho' ye beJ ) ha"e beG#imm'# &he noonGti#e sun, call'# forth the mutinous !in#s, 6n# 't!i/t the green sea an# the azur'# "ault Set roaring !arL to the #rea# rattling thun#er Ha"e ) gi"'n fire, an# rifte# @o"e's stout oak With his o!n boltL the strongGbas'# promontory Ha"e ) ma#e shake, an# by the spurs pluck'# up &he pine an# ce#ar5 gra"es at my comman# Ha"e !ak'# their sleepersL op'#, an# let 'em forth %y my so potent art$ %ut this rough magic ) here abjureL an# !hen ) ha"e reMuir'#

Some hea"'nly music, !hich e"'n no! ) #o, I&o !ork mine en# upon their senses that &his airy charm is forJ )'ll break my staff, %ury it certain fa#oms in the earth, 6n# #eeper than #i# e"er plummet soun#, )'ll #ro!n my book$ We must not forget to mention among other things in this play, that Shakespeare has anticipate# nearly all the arguments on the Atopian schemes of mo#ern philosophy5 Gonzalo$ Ha# ) the plantation of this isle, my lor#GG6ntonio$ He'# so!'t !ith nettleGsee#$ Sebastian$ ?r #ocks or mallo!s$ Gonzalo$ 6n# !ere the king on't, !hat !oul# ) #oN Sebastian$ 'Scape being #runk, for !ant of !ine$ Gonzalo$ )' th' common!ealth ) !oul# by contraries ./ecute all things5 for no kin# of traffic Woul# ) a#mitL no name of magistrateL >etters shoul# not be kno!nL !ealth, po"erty, 6n# use of ser"ice, noneL contract, succession, %ourn, boun# of lan#, tilth, "ineyar#, noneL Bo use of metal, corn, or !ine, or oilL Bo occupation, all men i#le, all, 6n# !omen tooL but innocent an# pure5 Bo so"'reignty$ Sebastian$ 6n# yet he !oul# be king on't$ 6ntonio$ &he latter en# of his common!ealth forgets the beginning$ Gonzalo$ 6ll things in common nature shoul# pro#uce Without s!eat or en#ea"our$ &reason, felony, S!or#, pike, knife, gun, or nee# of any engine Woul# ) not ha"eL but nature shoul# bring forth, ?f its o!n kin#, all foison, all abun#ance &o fee# my innocent people4 Sebastian$ Bo marrying 'mong his subjectsN 6ntonio$ Bone, manL all i#leL !hores an# kna"es$ Gonzalo$ ) !oul# !ith such perfection go"ern, sir, &' e/cel the gol#en age$ Sebastian$ Sa"e his majesty4

&H. D)'SADD.0 B)GH&'S '0.6D %ottom the Wea"er is a character that has not ha# justice #one him$ He is the most romantic of mechanics$ 6n# !hat a list of companions he hasGGFuince the Carpenter, Snug the @oiner, ,lute the %ello!sG men#er, Snout the &inker, Star"eling the &ailorL an# then again, !hat a group of fairy atten#ants, Puck, Peaseblossom, Cob!eb, Doth, an# Dustar#Gsee#4 )t has been obser"e# that Shakespeare's characters are constructe# upon #eep physiological principlesL an# there is something in this play !hich looks "ery like it$ %ottom the Wea"er, !ho takes the lea# of &his cre! of patches, ru#e mechanicals, &hat !ork for brea# upon 6thenian stalls, follo!s a se#entary tra#e, an# he is accor#ingly represente# as conceite#, serious, an# fantastical$ He is rea#y to un#ertake anything an# e"erything, as if it !as as much a matter of course as the motion of his loom an# shuttle$ He is for playing the tyrant, the lo"er, the la#y, the lion$ 'He !ill roar that it shall #o any man's heart goo# to hear him'L an# this being objecte# to as improper, he still has a resource in his goo# opinion of himself,

an# '!ill roar you an 't!ere any nightingale'$ Snug the @oiner is the moral man of the piece, !ho procee#s by measurement an# #iscretion in all things$ *ou see him !ith his rule an# compasses in his han#$ 'Ha"e you the lion's part !rittenN Pray you, if it be, gi"e it me, for ) am slo! of stu#y$'GG'*ou may #o it e/tempore,' says Fuince, 'for it is nothing but roaring$' Star"eling the &ailor keeps the peace, an# objects to the lion an# the #ra!n s!or#$ ') belie"e !e must lea"e the killing out !hen all's #one$' Star"eling, ho!e"er, #oes not start the objections himself, but secon#s them !hen ma#e by others, as if he ha# not spirit to e/press his fears !ithout encouragement$ )t is too much to suppose all this intentionalL but it "ery luckily falls out so$ Bature inclu#es all that is implie# in the most subtle analytical #istinctionsL an# the same #istinctions !ill be foun# in Shakespeare$ %ottom, !ho is not only chief actor, but stageGmanager for the occasion, has a #e"ice to ob"iate the #anger of frightening the la#ies5 'Write me a prologue, an# let the prologue seem to say, !e !ill #o no harm !ith our s!or#s, an# that Pyramus is not kille# in#ee#L an# for better assurance, tell them that ), Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but %ottom the Wea"erL this !ill put them out of fear$' %ottom seems to ha"e un#erstoo# the subject of #ramatic illusion at least as !ell as any mo#ern essayist$ )f our holi#ay mechanic rules the roast among his fello!s, he is no less at home in his ne! character of an ass, '!ith amiable cheeks, an# fair large ears'$ He instincti"ely acMuires a most learne# taste, an# gro!s fasti#ious in the choice of #rie# peas an# bottle# hay$ He is Muite familiar !ith his ne! atten#ants, an# assigns them their parts !ith all #ue gra"ity$ 'Donsieur Cob!eb, goo# Donsieur, get your !eapon in your han#, an# kill me a re#Ghipt humbleGbee on the top of a thistle, an#, goo# Donsieur, bring me the honeyGbag$' What an e/act kno!le#ge is here sho!n of natural history4 Puck, or 0obin Goo#fello!, is the lea#er of the fairy ban#$ He is the 6riel of the D)'SADD.0'S B)GH& '0.6DL an# yet as unlike as can be to the 6riel in &H. &.DP.S&$ Bo other poet coul# ha"e ma#e t!o such #ifferent characters out of the same fanciful materials an# situations$ 6riel is a minister of retribution, !ho is touche# !ith a sense of pity at the !oes he inflicts$ Puck is a ma#Gcap sprite, full of !antonness an# mischief, !ho laughs at those !hom he mislea#sGG'>or#, !hat fools these mortals be4' 6riel clea"es the air, an# e/ecutes his mission !ith the zeal of a !inge# messengerL Puck is borne along on his fairy erran# like the light an# glittering gossamer before the breeze$ He is, in#ee#, a most .picurean little gentleman, #ealing in Muaint #e"ices an# faring in #ainty #elights$ Prospero an# his !orl# of spirits are a set of moralistsL but !ith ?beron an# his fairies !e are launche# at once into the empire of the butterflies$ Ho! beautifully is this race of beings contraste# !ith the men an# !omen actors in the scene, by a single epithet !hich &itania gi"es to the latter, 'the human mortals'4 )t is astonishing that Shakespeare shoul# be consi#ere#, not only by foreigners, but by many of our o!n critics, as a gloomy an# hea"y !riter, !ho painte# nothing but 'gorgons an# hy#ras, an# chimeras #ire'$ His subtlety e/cee#s that of all other #ramatic !riters, insomuch that a celebrate# person of the present #ay sai# that he regar#e# him rather as a metaphysician than a poet$ His #elicacy an# sporti"e gaiety are infinite$ )n the D)'SADD.0'S B)GH& '0.6D alone, !e shoul# imagine, there is more s!eetness an# beauty

of #escription than in the !hole range of ,rench poetry put together$ What !e mean is this, that !e !ill pro#uce out of that single play ten passages, to !hich !e #o not think any ten passages in the !orks of the ,rench poets can be oppose#, #isplaying eMual fancy an# imagery$ Shall !e mention the remonstrance of Helena to Hermia, or &itania's #escription of her fairy train, or her #isputes !ith ?beron about the )n#ian boy, or Puck's account of himself an# his employments, or the ,airy Fueen's e/hortation to the el"es to pay #ue atten#ance upon her fa"ourite, %ottomL or Hippolita's #escription of a chace, or &heseus's ans!erN &he t!o last are as heroical an# spirite# as the others are full of luscious ten#erness$ &he rea#ing of this play is like !an#ering in a gro"e by moonlight5 the #escriptions breathe a s!eetness like o#ours thro!n from be#s of flo!ers$ &itania's e/hortation to the fairies to !ait upon %ottom, !hich is remarkable for a certain cloying s!eetness in the repetition of the rhymes, is as follo!s5 %e kin# an# courteous to this gentleman$ Hop in his !alks, an# gambol in his eyes, ,ee# him !ith apricocks an# #e!berries, With purple grapes, green figs an# mulberriesL &he honeyGbags steal from the humble bees, 6n# for night tapers crop their !a/en thighs, 6n# light them at the fiery glo!G!orm's eyes, &o ha"e my lo"e to be#, an# to arise5 6n# pluck the !ings from painte# butterflies, &o fan the moonGbeams from his sleeping eyesL Bo# to him, el"es, an# #o him courtesies$ &he soun#s of the lute an# of the trumpet are not more #istinct than the poetry of the foregoing passage, an# of the con"ersation bet!een &heseus an# Hippolita5 &heseus$ Go, one of you, fin# out the forester, ,or no! our obser"ation is perform'#L 6n# since !e ha"e the "a!ar# of the #ay, Dy lo"e shall hear the music of my houn#s$ Ancouple in the !estern "alley, go, 'ispatch, ) say, an# fin# the forester$ We !ill, fair Fueen, up to the mountain's top, 6n# mark the musical confusion ?f houn#s an# echo in conjunction$ Hippolita$ ) !as !ith Hercules an# Ca#mus once, When in a !oo# of Crete they bay'# the bear With houn#s of SpartaL ne"er #i# ) hear Such gallant chi#ing$ ,or besi#es the gro"es, &he skies, the fountains, e"ery region near Seena'# all one mutual cry$ ) ne"er hear# So musical a #iscor#, such s!eet thun#er$ &heseus$ Dy houn#s are bre# out of the Spartan kin#, So fle!'#, so san#e#, an# their hea#s are hung With ears that s!eep a!ay the morning #e!L CrookGknee'# an# #e!Glap'#, like &hessalian bulls,

Slo! in pursuit, but matche# in mouth like bells, .ach un#er each$ 6 cry more tuneable Was ne"er halloo'# to, nor cheer'# !ith hom, )n Crete, in Sparta, nor in &hessaly5 @u#ge !hen you hear$ ."en &itian ne"er ma#e a huntingGpiece of a gusto so fresh an# lusty, an# so near the first ages of the !orl# as this$ )t ha# been suggeste# to us, that the D)'SADD.0'S B)GH& '0.6D !oul# #o a#mirably to get up as a Christmas afterGpieceL an# our prompter propose# that Dr$ Cean shoul# play the part of %ottom, as !orthy of his great talents$ He might, in the #ischarge of his #uty, offer to play the la#y like any of our actresses that he please#, the lo"er or the tyrant like any of our actors that he please#, an# the lion like 'the most fearful !il#Gfo!l li"ing'$ &he carpenter, the tailor, an# joiner, it !as thought, !oul# hit the galleries$ &he young la#ies in lo"e !oul# interest the si#eGbo/esL an# 0obin Goo#fello! an# his companions e/cite a li"ely fello!Gfeeling in the chil#ren from school$ &here !oul# be t!o courts, an empire !ithin an empire, the 6thenian an# the ,airy Cing an# Fueen, !ith their atten#ants, an# !ith all their finery$ What an opportunity for processions, for the soun# of trumpets an# glittering of spears4 What a fluttering of urchins' painte# !ingsL !hat a #elightful profusion of gauze clou#s an# airy spirits floating on them4 6las, the e/periment has been trie#, an# has faile#L not through the fault of Dr$ Cean, !ho #i# not play the part of %ottom, nor of Dr$ >iston, !ho #i#, an# !ho playe# it !ell, but from the nature of things$ &he Di#summer Bight's 'ream, !hen acte#, is con"erte# from a #elightful fiction into a #ull pantomime$ 6ll that is finest in the play is lost in the representation$ &he spectacle !as gran#L but the spirit !as e"aporate#, the genius !as fle#$GGPoetry an# the stage #o not agree !ell together$ &he attempt to reconcile them in this instance fails not only of effect, but of #ecorum$ &he )'.6> can ha"e no place upon the stage, !hich is a picture !ithout perspecti"eL e"erything there is in the foregroun#$ &hat !hich !as merely an airy shape, a #ream, a passing thought, imme#iately becomes an unmanageable reality$ Where all is left to the imagination Ias is the case in rea#ingJ e"ery circumstance, near or remote, has an eMual chance of being kept in min#, an# tells accor#ing to the mi/e# impression of all that has been suggeste#$ %ut the imagination cannot sufficiently Mualify the actual impressions of the senses$ 6ny offence gi"en to the eye is not to be got ri# of by e/planation$ &hus %ottom's hea# in the play is a fantastic illusion, pro#uce# by magic spells5 on the stage, it is an ass's hea#, an# nothing moreL certainly a "ery strange costume for a gentleman to appear in$ ,ancy cannot be embo#ie# any more than a simile can be painte#L an# it is as i#le to attempt it as to personate Wall or Doonshine$ ,airies are not incre#ible, but fairies si/ feet high are so$ Donsters are not shocking, if they are seen at a proper #istance$ When ghosts appear at mi##ay, !hen apparitions stalk along Cheapsi#e, then may the D)'SADD.0'S B)GH& '0.6D be represente# !ithout injury at Co"ent Gar#en or at 'rury >ane$ &he boar#s of a theatre an# the regions of fancy are not the same thing$

0?D.? 6B' @A>).& 0?D.? 6B' @A>).& is the only trage#y !hich Shakespeare has !ritten entirely on a lo"eGstory$ )t is suppose# to ha"e been his first play, an# it #eser"es to stan# in that prou# rank$ &here is the buoyant spirit of youth in e"ery line, in the rapturous into/ication of hope, an# in the bitterness of #espair$ )t has been sai# of 0?D.? 6B' @A>).& by a great critic, that '!hate"er is most into/icating in the o#our of a southern spring, languishing in the song of the nightingale, or "oluptuous in the first opening of the rose, is to be foun# in this poem'$ &he #escription is trueL an# yet it #oes not ans!er to our i#ea of the play$ ,or if it has the s!eetness of the rose, it has its freshness tooL if it has the languor of the nightingale's song, it has also its gi##y transportL if it has the softness of a southern spring, it is as glo!ing an# as bright$ &here is nothing of a sickly an# sentimental cast$ 0omeo an# @uliet are in lo"e, but they are not lo"eGsick$ ."erything speaks the "ery soul of pleasure, the high an# healthy pulse of the passions5 the heart beats, the bloo# circulates an# mantles throughout$ &heir courtship is not an insipi# interchange of sentiments lipG#eep, learnt at secon#Ghan# from poems an# plays,GGma#e up of beauties of the most sha#o!y kin#, of 'fancies !an that hang the pensi"e hea#', of e"anescent smiles an# sighs that breathe not, of #elicacy that shrinks from the touch an# feebleness that scarce supports itself, an elaborate "acuity of thought, an# an artificial #earth of sense, spirit, truth, an# nature4GG)t is the re"erse of all this$ )t is Shakespeare all o"er, an# Shakespeare !hen he !as young$ We ha"e hear# it objecte# to 0?D.? 6B' @A>).& that it is foun#e# on an i#le passion bet!een a boy an# a girl, !ho ha"e scarcely seen an# can ha"e but little sympathy or rational esteem for one another, !ho ha"e ha# no e/perience of the goo# or ills of life, an# !hose raptures or #espair must be therefore eMually groun#less an# fantastical$ Whoe"er objects to the youth of the parties in this play as 'too unripe an# cru#e' to pluck the s!eets of lo"e, an# !ishes to see a firstGlo"e carrie# on into a goo# ol# age, an# the passions taken at the reboun#, !hen their force is spent, may fin# all this #one in the Stranger an# in other German plays, !here they #o things by contraries, an# transpose nature to inspire sentiment an# create philosophy$ Shakespeare procee#e# in a more straightfor!ar# an#, !e think, effectual !ay$ He #i# not en#ea"our to e/tract beauty from !rinkles, or the !il# throb of passion from the last e/piring sigh of in#ifference$ He #i# not 'gather grapes of thorns nor figs of thistles'$ )t !as not his !ay$ %ut he has gi"en a picture of human life, such as it is in the or#er of nature$ He has foun#e# the passion of the t!o lo"ers not on the pleasures they ha# e/perience#, but on all the pleasures they ha# B?& e/perience#$ 6ll that !as to come of life !as theirs$ 6t that untrie# source of promise# happiness they slake# their thirst, an# the first eager #raught ma#e them #runk !ith lo"e an# joy$ &hey !ere in full possession of their senses an# their affections$ &heir hopes !ere of air, their #esires of fire$ *outh is the season of lo"e, because the heart is then first melte# in ten#erness from the touch of no"elty, an# kin#le# to rapture, for it kno!s no en# of its enjoyments or its

!ishes$ 'esire has no limit but itself$ Passion, the lo"e an# e/pectation of pleasure, is infinite, e/tra"agant, ine/haustible, till e/perience comes to check an# kill it$ @uliet e/claims on her first inter"ie! !ith 0omeo5 Dy bounty is as boun#less as the sea, Dy lo"e as #eep$ 6n# !hy shoul# it notN What !as to hin#er the thrilling ti#e of pleasure, !hich ha# just gushe# from her heart, from flo!ing on !ithout stint or measure, but e/perience !hich she !as yet !ithoutN What !as to abate the transport of the first s!eet sense of pleasure, !hich her heart an# her senses ha# just taste#, but in#ifference !hich she !as yet a stranger toN What !as there to check the ar#our of hope, of faith, of constancy, just rising in her breast, but #isappointment !hich she ha# not yet feltN 6s are the #esires an# the hopes of youthful passion, such is the keenness of its #isappointments, an# their baleful effect$ Such is the transition in this play from the highest bliss to the lo!est #espair, from the nuptial couch to an untimely gra"e$ &he only e"il that e"en in apprehension befalls the t!o lo"ers is the loss of the greatest possible felicityL yet this loss is fatal to both, for they ha# rather part !ith life than bear the thought of sur"i"ing all that ha# ma#e life #ear to them$ )n all this, Shakespeare has but follo!e# nature, !hich e/iste# in his time, as !ell as no!$ &he mo#ern philosophy, !hich re#uces the !hole theory of the min# to habitual impressions, an# lea"es the natural impulses of passion an# imagination out of the account, ha# not then been #isco"ere#L or if it ha#, !oul# ha"e been little calculate# for the uses of poetry$ )t is the ina#eMuacy of the same false system of philosophy to account for the strength of our earliest attachments, !hich has le# Dr$ Wor#s!orth to in#ulge in the mystical "isions of Platonism in his ?#e on the Progress of >ife$ He has "ery a#mirably #escribe# the "i"i#ness of our impressions in youth an# chil#hoo#, an# ho! 'they fa#e by #egrees into the light of common #ay', an# he ascribes the change to the supposition of a preGe/istent state, as if our early thoughts !ere nearer hea"en, reflections of former trails of glory, sha#o!s of our past being$ &his is i#le$ )t is not from the kno!le#ge of the past that the first impressions of things #eri"e their gloss an# splen#our, but from our ignorance of the future, !hich fills the "oi# to come !ith the !armth of our #esires, !ith our gayest hopes, an# brightest fancies$ )t is the obscurity sprea# before it that colours the prospect of life !ith hope, as it is the clou# !hich reflects the rainbo!$ &here is no occasion to resort to any mystical union an# transmission of feeling through #ifferent states of being to account for the romantic enthusiasm of youthL nor to plant the root of hope in the gra"e, nor to #eri"e it from the skies$ )ts root is in the heart of man5 it lifts its hea# abo"e the stars$ 'esire an# imagination are inmates of the human breast$ &he hea"en 'that lies about us in our infancy' is only a ne! !orl#, of !hich !e kno! nothing but !hat !e !ish it to be, an# belie"e all that !e !ish$ )n youth an# boyhoo#, the !orl# !e li"e in is the !orl# of #esire, an# of fancy5 it is e/perience that brings us #o!n to the !orl# of reality$ What is it that in youth she#s a #e!y light roun# the e"ening starN &hat makes the #aisy look so brightN &hat perfumes the hyacinthN &hat embalms the first kiss of lo"eN )t is

the #elight of no"elty, an# the seeing no en# to the pleasure that !e fon#ly belie"e is still in store for us$ &he heart re"els in the lu/ury of its o!n thoughts, an# is unable to sustain the !eight of hope an# lo"e that presses upon it$GG&he effects of the passion of lo"e alone might ha"e #issipate# Dr$ Wor#s!orth's theory, if he means anything more by it than an ingenious an# poetical allegory$ &H6& at least is not a link in the chain let #o!n from other !orl#sL 'the purple light of lo"e' is not a #im reflection of the smiles of celestial bliss$ )t #oes not appear till the mi##le of life, an# then seems like 'another morn risen on mi##ay'$ )n this respect the soul comes into the !orl# 'in utter nake#ness'$ >o"e !aits for the ripening of the youthful bloo#$ &he sense of pleasure prece#es the lo"e of pleasure, but !ith the sense of pleasure, as soon as it is felt, come thronging infinite #esires an# hopes of pleasure, an# lo"e is mature as soon as born$ )t !ithers an# it #ies almost as soon4 &his play presents a beautiful coup #'oeil of the progress of human life$ )n thought it occupies years, an# embraces the circle of the affections from chil#hoo# to ol# age$ @uliet has become a great girl, a young !oman since !e first remember her a little thing in the i#le prattle of the nurse$ >a#y Capulet !as about her age !hen she became a mother, an# ol# Capulet some!hat impatiently tells his younger "isitors5 GG)'"e seen the #ay, &hat ) ha"e !orn a "isor, an# coul# tell 6 !hispering tale in a fair la#y's ear, Such as !oul# please5 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone$ &hus one perio# of life makes !ay for the follo!ing, an# one generation pushes another off the stage$ ?ne of the most striking passages to sho! the intense feeling of youth in this play is Capulet's in"itation to Paris to "isit his entertainment$ 6t my poor house, look to behol# this night .arthGtrea#ing stars that make #ark hea"'n lightL Such comfort as #o lusty young men feel When !ellGapparel'# 6pril on the heel ?f limping !inter trea#s, e"en such #elight 6mong fresh femaleGbu#s shall you this night )nherit at my house$ &he feelings of youth an# of the spring are here blen#e# together like the breath of opening flo!ers$ )mages of "ernal beauty appear to ha"e floate# before the author's min#, in !riting this poem, in profusion$ Here is another of e/Muisite beauty, brought in more by acci#ent than by necessity$ Dontague #eclares of his son smit !ith a hopeless passion, !hich he !ill not re"eal5 %ut he, his o!n affection's counsellor, )s to himself so secret an# so close, So far from soun#ing an# #isco"ery, 6s is the bu# bit !ith an en"ious !orm, .re he can sprea# his s!eet lea"es to the air, ?r #e#icate his beauty to the sun$

&his casual #escription is as full of passionate beauty as !hen 0omeo #!ells in frantic fon#ness on 'the !hite !on#er of his @uliet's han#'$ &he rea#er may, if he pleases, contrast the e/Muisite pastoral simplicity of the abo"e lines !ith the gorgeous #escription of @uliet !hen 0omeo first sees her at her father's house, surroun#e# by company an# artificial splen#our$ What la#y's that !hich #oth enrich the han# ?f yon#er knightN ? she #oth teach the torches to burn brightL Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, >ike a rich je!el in an 6ethiop's ear$ )t !oul# be har# to say !hich of the t!o gar#en scenes is the finest, that !here he first con"erses !ith his lo"e, or takes lea"e of her the morning after their marriage$ %oth are like a hea"en upon earth5 the blissful bo!ers of Para#ise let #o!n upon this lo!er !orl#$ We !ill gi"e only one passage of these !ellGkno!n scenes to sho! the perfect refinement an# #elicacy of Shakespeare's conception of the female character$ )t is !on#erful ho! Collins, !ho !as a critic an# a poet of great sensibility, shoul# ha"e encourage# the common error on this subject by sayingGG'%ut stronger Shakespeare felt for man alone'$ &he passage !e mean is @uliet's apology for her mai#en bol#ness$ &hou kno!'st the mask of night is on my faceL .lse !oul# a mai#en blush bepaint my cheek ,or that !hich thou hast hear# me speak toGnight$ ,ain !oul# ) #!ell on form, fain, fain #eny What ) ha"e spokeGGbut fare!ell compliment5 'ost thou lo"e meN ) kno! thou !ilt say, aye, 6n# ) !ill take thee at thy !or#GG*et if thou s!ear'st, &hou may'st pro"e falseL at lo"ers' perjuries &hey say @o"e laughs$ ?h gentle 0omeo, )f thou #ost lo"e, pronounce it faithfullyL ?r if thou think ) am too Muickly !on, )'ll fro!n an# be per"erse, an# say thee nay, So thou !ilt !oo5 but else not for the !orl#$ )n truth, fair Dontague, ) am too fon#L 6n# therefore thou may'st think my 'ha"iour lightL %ut trust me, gentleman, )'ll pro"e more true &han those that ha"e more cunning to be strange$ ) shoul# ha"e been more strange, ) must confess, %ut that thou o"erGhear#'st, ere ) !as !are, Dy true lo"e's passionL therefore par#on me, 6n# not impute this yiel#ing to light lo"e, Which the #ark night hath so #isco"ere#$ )n this an# all the rest her heart, fluttering bet!een pleasure, hope, an# fear, seems to ha"e #ictate# to her tongue, an# 'calls true lo"e spoken simple mo#esty'$ ?f the same sort, but bol#er in "irgin innocence, is her soliloMuy after her marriage !ith 0omeo$ Gallop apace, you fieryGfoote# stee#s, &o!ar#s Phoebus' mansionL such a !agoner 6s Phaeton !oul# !hip you to the !est,

6n# bring in clou#y night imme#iately$ Sprea# thy close curtain, lo"eGperforming nightL &hat runGa!ays' eyes may !inkL an# 0omeo >eap to these arms, untalke# of, an# unseen4GGG >o"ers can see to #o their amorous rites %y their o!n beauties5 or if lo"e be blin#, )t best agrees !ith night$GGCome, ci"il night, &hou soberGsuite# matron, all in black, 6n# learn me ho! to lose a !inning match, Play'# for a pair of stainless mai#enhoo#s5 Hoo# my unmann'# bloo# bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantleL till strange lo"e, gro!n bol#, &hinks true lo"e acte#, simple mo#esty$ Come night4GGCome, 0omeo4 come, thou #ay in nightL ,or thou !ilt lie upon the !ings of night Whiter than ne! sno! on a ra"en's back$GGG Come, gentle nightL come, lo"ing, blackGbro!'# night, Gi"e me my 0omeoL an# !hen he shall #ie, &ake him an# cut him out in little stars, 6n# he !ill make the face of hea"en so fine, &hat all the !orl# shall be in lo"e !ith night, 6n# pay no !orship to the garish sun$GGG ?, ) ha"e bought the mansion of a lo"e, %ut not possess'# itL an# though ) am sol#, Bot yet enjoy'#5 so te#ious is this #ay, 6s is the night before some festi"al &o an impatient chil#, that hath ne! robes, 6n# may not !ear them$ We the rather insert this passage here, inasmuch as !e ha"e no #oubt it has been e/punge# from the ,amily Shakespeare$ Such critics #o not percei"e that the feelings of the heart sanctify, !ithout #isguising, the impulses of nature$ Without refinement themsel"es, they confoun# mo#esty !ith hypocrisy$ Bot so the German critic, Schlegel$ Speaking of 0omeo an# @uliet, he says, ')t !as reser"e# for Shakespeare to unite purity of heart an# the glo! of imagination, s!eetness an# #ignity of manners an# passionate "iolence, in one i#eal picture$' &he character is in#ee# one of perfect truth an# s!eetness$ )t has nothing for!ar#, nothing coy, nothing affecte# or coMuettish about itLGGit is a pure effusion of nature$ )t is as frank as it is mo#est, for it has no thought that it !ishes to conceal$ )t reposes in conscious innocence on the strength of its affections$ )ts #elicacy #oes not consist in col#ness an# reser"e, but in combining !armth of imagination an# ten#erness of heart !ith the most "oluptuous sensibility$ >o"e is a gentle flame that rarefies an# e/pan#s her !hole being$ What an i#ea of trembling haste an# airy grace, borne upon the thoughts of lo"e, #oes the ,riar's e/clamation gi"e of her, as she approaches his cell to be marrie#5 Here comes the la#y$ ?h, so light of foot Will ne'er !ear out the e"erlasting flint5 6 lo"er may bestri#e the gossamer, &hat i#les in the !anton summer air, 6n# yet not fall, so light is "anity$ &he tragic part of this character is of a piece !ith the rest$ )t is

the heroic foun#e# on ten#erness an# #elicacy$ ?f this kin# are her resolution to follo! the ,riar's a#"ice, an# the conflict in her bosom bet!een apprehension an# lo"e !hen she comes to take the sleeping poison$ Shakespeare is blame# for the mi/ture of lo! characters$ )f this is a #eformity, it is the source of a thousan# beauties$ ?ne instance is the contrast bet!een the guileless simplicity of @uliet's attachment to her first lo"e, an# the con"enient policy of the nurse in a#"ising her to marry Paris, !hich e/cites such in#ignation in her mistress$ '6ncient #amnation4 oh most !icke# fien#', Oc$ 0omeo is Hamlet in lo"e$ &here is the same rich e/uberance of passion an# sentiment in the one, that there is of thought an# sentiment in the other$ %oth are absent an# selfGin"ol"e#, both li"e out of themsel"es in a !orl# of imagination$ Hamlet is abstracte# from e"erythingL 0omeo is abstracte# from e"erything but his lo"e, an# lost in it$ His 'frail thoughts #ally !ith faint surmise', an# are fashione# out of the suggestions of hope, 'the flatteries of sleep'$ He is himself only in his @ulietL she is his only reality, his heart's true home an# i#ol$ &he rest of the !orl# is to him a passing #ream$ Ho! finely is this character portraye# !here he recollects himself on seeing Paris slain at the tomb of @uliet4 What sai# my man !hen my betosse# soul 'i# not atten# him as !e ro#eN ) think He tol# me Paris shoul# ha"e marrie# @uliet$ 6n# again, just before he hears the su##en ti#ings of her #eath5 )f ) may trust the flattery of sleep, Dy #reams presage some joyful ne!s at han#L Dy bosom's lor# sits lightly on his throne, 6n# all this #ay an unaccustom'# spirit >ifts me abo"e the groun# !ith cheerful thoughts$ ) #reamt my la#y came an# foun# me #ea#, IStrange #ream4 that gi"es a #ea# man lea"e to thinkJ 6n# breath'# such life !ith kisses on my lips, &hat ) re"i"'# an# !as an emperor$ 6h me4 ho! s!eet is lo"e itself possesse#, When but lo"e's sha#o!s are so rich in joy4 0omeo's passion for @uliet is not a first lo"e5 it succee#s an# #ri"es out his passion for another mistress, 0osaline, as the sun hi#es the stars$ &his is perhaps an artifice Inot absolutely necessaryJ to gi"e us a higher opinion of the la#y, !hile the first absolute surren#er of her heart to him enhances the richness of the prize$ &he commencement, progress, an# en#ing of his secon# passion are ho!e"er complete in themsel"es, not injure#, if they are not bettere# by the first$ &he outline of the play is taken from an )talian no"elL but the #ramatic arrangement of the #ifferent scenes bet!een the lo"ers, the more than #ramatic interest in the progress of the story, the #e"elopment of the characters !ith time an# circumstances, just accor#ing to the #egree an# kin# of interest e/cite#, are not inferior to the e/pression of passion an# nature$ )t has been ingeniously remarke# among other proofs of skill in the contri"ance of the fable, that the improbability of the main inci#ent in the piece, the a#ministering of the sleepingGpotion, is

softene# an# ob"iate# from the beginning by the intro#uction of the ,riar on his first appearance culling simples an# #escanting on their "irtues$ ?f the passionate scenes in this trage#y, that bet!een the ,riar an# 0omeo !hen he is tol# of his sentence of banishment, that bet!een @uliet an# the Burse !hen she hears of it, an# of the #eath of her cousin &ybalt I!hich bear no proportion in her min#, !hen passion after the first shock of surprise thro!s its !eight into the scale of her affectionsJ, an# the last scene at the tomb, are among the most natural an# o"erpo!ering$ )n all of these it is not merely the force of any one passion that is gi"en, but the slightest an# most unlooke#Gfor transitions from one to another, the mingling currents of e"ery #ifferent feeling rising up an# pre"ailing in turn, s!aye# by the masterGmin# of the poet, as the !a"es un#ulate beneath the gli#ing storm$ &hus !hen @uliet has by her complaints encourage# the Burse to say, 'Shame come to 0omeo', she instantly repels the !ish, !hich she ha# herself occasione#, by ans!ering5 %lister'# be thy tongue ,or such a !ish, he !as not born to shame$ Apon his bro! shame is ashame# to sit, ,or 'tis a throne !here honour may be cro!n'# Sole monarch of the uni"ersal earth4 ?, !hat a beast !as ) to chi#e him so4 Burse$ Will you speak !ell of him that kill'# your cousinN @uliet$ Shall ) speak ill of him that is my husban#N 6h my poor lor#, !hat tongue shall smooth thy name, When ), thy threeGhours' !ife, ha"e mangle# itN 6n# then follo!s on the neck of her remorse an# returning fon#ness, that !ish trea#ing almost on the brink of impiety, but still hel# back by the strength of her #e"otion to her lor#, that 'father, mother, nay, or both !ere #ea#', rather than 0omeo banishe#$ )f she reMuires any other e/cuse, it is in the manner in !hich 0omeo echoes her frantic grief an# #isappointment in the ne/t scene at being banishe# from her$GGPerhaps one of the finest pieces of acting that e"er !as !itnesse# on the stage, is Dr$ Cean's manner of #oing this scene an# his repetition of the !or#, %6B)SH.'$ He trea#s close in#ee# upon the genius of his author$ 6 passage !hich this celebrate# actor an# able commentator on Shakespeare Iactors are the best commentators on the poetsJ #i# not gi"e !ith eMual truth or force of feeling !as the one !hich 0omeo makes at the tomb of @uliet, before he #rinks the poison$ GG>et me peruse this faceGG Dercutio's kinsman4 noble county Paris4 What sai# my man, !hen my betosse# soul 'i# not atten# him as !e ro#e4 ) think, He tol# me, Paris shoul# ha"e marrie# @uliet4 Sai# he not soN or #i# ) #ream it soN ?r am ) ma#, hearing him talk of @uliet, &o think it !as soNGG?, gi"e me thy han#, ?ne !rit !ith me in sour misfortune's book4 )'ll bury thee in a triumphant gra"eGG

,or here lies @uliet$ $ $ $ $ $ $

GG?, my lo"e4 my !ife4 'eath that hath suck'# the honey of thy breath, Hath ha# no po!er yet upon thy beauty5 &hou art not conMuer'#L beauty's ensign yet )s crimson in thy lips, an# in thy cheeks, 6n# 'eath's pale flag is not a#"ance# there$GG &ybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloo#y sheetN ?, !hat more fa"our can ) #o to thee, &han !ith that han# that cut thy youth in t!ain, &o sun#er his that !as thine enemyN ,orgi"e me, cousin4 6h, #ear @uliet, Why art thou yet so fair4 ) !ill belie"e &hat unsubstantial #eath is amorousL 6n# that the lean abhorre# monster keeps &hee here in #ark to be his paramour$ ,or fear of that, ) !ill stay still !ith theeL 6n# ne"er from this palace of #im night 'epart again5 here, here !ill ) remain With !orms that are thy chamberGmai#sL ?, here Will ) set up my e"erlasting restL 6n# shake the yoke of inauspicious stars ,rom this !orl#G!earie# flesh$GG.yes, look your last4 6rms, take your last embrace4 an# lips, ? you &he #oors of breath, seal !ith a righteous kiss 6 #ateless bargain to engrossing #eath4GG Come, bitter con#uct, come unsa"oury gui#e4 &hou #esperate pilot, no! at once run on &he #ashing rocks my seaGsick !eary bark4 Here's to my lo"e4GG:'rinks$= ?, true apothecary4 &hy #rugs are Muick$GG&hus !ith a kiss ) #ie$ &he lines in this speech #escribing the lo"eliness of @uliet, !ho is suppose# to be #ea#, ha"e been compare# to those in !hich it is sai# of Cleopatra after her #eath, that she looke# 'as she !oul# take another 6ntony in her strong toil of graceL' an# a Muestion has been starte# !hich is the finest, that !e #o not preten# to #eci#e$ We can more easily #eci#e bet!een Shakespeare an# any other author, than bet!een him an# himself$GGShall !e Muote any more passages to sho! his genius or the beauty of 0?D.? 6B' @A>).&N 6t that rate, !e might Muote the !hole$ &he late Dr$ Sheri#an, on being sho!n a "olume of the %eauties of Shakespeare, "ery properly aske#GG'%ut !here are the other ele"enN' &he character of Dercutio in this play is one of the most mercurial an# spirite# of the pro#uctions of Shakespeare's comic muse$

>.60 We !ish that !e coul# pass this play o"er, an# say nothing about it$

6ll that !e can say must fall far short of the subjectL or e"en of !hat !e oursel"es concei"e of it$ &o attempt to gi"e a #escription of the play itself or of its effect upon the min#, is mere impertinence5 yet !e must say something$GG)t is then the best of all Shakespeare's plays, for it is the one in !hich he !as the most in earnest$ He !as here fairly caught in the !eb of his o!n imagination$ &he passion !hich he has taken as his subject is that !hich strikes its root #eepest into the human heartL of !hich the bon# is the har#est to be unloose#L an# the cancelling an# tearing to pieces of !hich gi"es the greatest re"ulsion to the frame$ &his #epth of nature, this force of passion, this tug an# !ar of the elements of our being, this firm faith in filial piety, an# the gi##y anarchy an# !hirling tumult of the thoughts at fin#ing this prop failing it, the contrast bet!een the fi/e#, immo"eable basis of natural affection, an# the rapi#, irregular starts of imagination, su##enly !renche# from all its accustome# hol#s an# restingGplaces in the soul, this is !hat Shakespeare has gi"en, an# !hat nobo#y else but he coul# gi"e$ So !e belie"e$GG&he min# of >ear staggering bet!een the !eight of attachment an# the hurrie# mo"ements of passion is like a tall ship #ri"en about by the !in#s, buffete# by the furious !a"es, but that still ri#es abo"e the storm, ha"ing its anchor fi/e# in the bottom of the seaL or it is like the sharp rock circle# by the e##ying !hirlpool that foams an# beats against it, or like the soli# promontory pushe# from its basis by the force of an earthMuake$ &he character of >ear itself is "ery finely concei"e# for the purpose$ )t is the only groun# on !hich such a story coul# be built !ith the greatest truth an# effect$ )t is his rash haste, his "iolent impetuosity, his blin#ness to e"erything but the #ictates of his passions or affections, that pro#uces all his misfortunes, that aggra"ates his impatience of them, that enforces our pity for him$ &he part !hich Cor#elia bears in the scene is e/tremely beautiful5 the story is almost tol# in the first !or#s she utters$ We see at once the precipice on !hich the poor ol# king stan#s from his o!n e/tra"agant an# cre#ulous importunity, the in#iscreet simplicity of her lo"e I!hich, to be sure, has a little of her father's obstinacy in itJ an# the hollo!ness of her sisters' pretensions$ 6lmost the first burst of that noble ti#e of passion, !hich runs through the play, is in the remonstrance of Cent to his royal master on the injustice of his sentence against his youngest #aughterGG'%e Cent unmannerly, !hen >ear is ma#4' &his manly plainness !hich #ra!s #o!n on him the #ispleasure of the una#"ise# king is !orthy of the fi#elity !ith !hich he a#heres to his fallen fortunes$ &he true character of the t!o el#est #aughters, 0egan an# Gonerill Ithey are so thoroughly hateful that !e #o not e"en like to repeat their namesJ breaks out in their ans!er to Cor#elia !ho #esires them to treat their father !ellGG'Prescribe not us our #uties'GGtheir hatre# of a#"ice being in proportion to their #etermination to #o !rong, an# to their hypocritical pretensions to #o right$ &heir #eliberate hypocrisy a##s the last finishing to the o#iousness of their characters$ )t is the absence of this #etestable Muality that is the only relief in the character of .#mun# the %astar#, an# that at times reconciles us to him$ We are not tempte# to e/aggerate the guilt of his con#uct, !hen he himself gi"es it up as a ba# business, an# !rites himself #o!n 'plain "illain'$ Bothing more can be sai# about it$ His religious honesty in this respect is a#mirable$ ?ne

speech of his is !orth a million$ His father, Gloster, !hom he has just #elu#e# !ith a forge# story of his brother .#gar's #esigns against his life, accounts for his unnatural beha"iour an# the strange #epra"ity of the times from the late eclipses in the sun an# moon$ .#mun#, !ho is in the secret, says !hen he is gone5 '&his is the e/cellent foppery of the !orl#, that !hen !e are sick in fortune Ioften the surfeits of our o!n beha"iourJ !e make guilty of our #isasters the sun, the moon, an# stars5 as if !e !ere "illains on necessityL fools by hea"enly compulsionL kna"es, thie"es, an# treacherous by spherical pre#ominanceL #runkar#s, liars, an# a#ulterers by an enforce# obe#ience of planetary influenceL an# all that !e are e"il in, by a #i"ine thrusting on$ 6n a#mirable e"asion of !horemaster man, to lay his goatish #isposition on the charge of a star4 Dy father compoun#e# !ith my mother un#er the 'ragon's tale, an# my nati"ity !as un#er Arsa Dajor5 so that it follo!s, ) am rough an# lecherous$ ) shoul# ha"e been !hat ) am, ha# the mai#enliest star in the firmament t!inkle# on my bastar#izing$'GG&he !hole character, its careless, lightGhearte# "illany, contraste# !ith the sullen, rancorous malignity of 0egan an# Gonerill, its conne/ion !ith the con#uct of the un#erGplot, in !hich Gloster's persecution of one of his sons an# the ingratitu#e of another, form a counterpart to the mistakes an# misfortunes of >earGGhis #ouble amour !ith the t!o sisters, an# the share !hich he has in bringing about the fatal catastrophe, are all manage# !ith an uncommon #egree of skill an# po!er$ )t has been sai#, an# !e think justly, that the thir# act of ?&H.>>?, an# the three first acts of >.60, are Shakespeare's great masterpieces in the logic of passion5 that they contain the highest e/amples not only of the force of in#i"i#ual passion, but of its #ramatic "icissitu#es an# striking effects arising from the #ifferent circumstances an# characters of the persons speaking$ We see the ebb an# flo! of the feeling, its pauses an# fe"erish starts, its impatience of opposition, its accumulating force !hen it has time to recollect itself, the manner in !hich it a"ails itself of e"ery passing !or# or gesture, its haste to repel insinuation, the alternate contraction an# #ilatation of the soul, an# all 'the #azzling fence of contro"ersy' in this mortal combat !ith poisone# !eapons, aime# at the heart, !here each !oun# is fatal$ We ha"e seen in ?&H.>>?, ho! the unsuspecting frankness an# impetuous passions of the Door are playe# upon an# e/asperate# by the artful #e/terity of )ago$ )n the present play, that !hich aggra"ates the sense of sympathy in the rea#er, an# of uncontrollable anguish in the s!ollen heart of >ear, is the petrifying in#ifference, the col#, calculating, ob#urate selfishness of his #aughters$ His keen passions seem !hette# on their stony hearts$ &he contrast !oul# be too painful, the shock too great, but for the inter"ention of the ,ool, !hose !ellGtime# le"ity comes in to break the continuity of feeling !hen it can no longer be borne, an# to bring into play again the fibres of the heart just as they are gro!ing rigi# from o"erG straine# e/citement$ &he imagination is gla# to take refuge in the halfGcomic, halfGserious comments of the ,ool, just as the min# un#er the e/treme anguish of a surgical operation "ents itself in sallies of !it$ &he character !as also a grotesMue ornament of the barbarous times, in !hich alone the tragic groun#G!ork of the story coul# be lai#$ )n another point of "ie! it is in#ispensable, inasmuch as !hile it is a #i"ersion to the too great intensity of

our #isgust, it carries the pathos to the highest pitch of !hich it is capable, by sho!ing the pitiable !eakness of the ol# king's con#uct an# its irretrie"able conseMuences in the most familiar point of "ie!$ >ear may !ell 'beat at the gate !hich let his folly in', after, as the ,ool says, 'he has ma#e his #aughters his mothers'$ &he character is #roppe# in the thir# act to make room for the entrance of .#gar as Da# &om, !hich !ell accor#s !ith the increasing bustle an# !il#ness of the inci#entsL an# nothing can be more complete than the #istinction bet!een >ear's real an# .#gar's assume# ma#ness, !hile the resemblance in the cause of their #istresses, from the se"ering of the nearest ties of natural affection, keeps up a unity of interest$ Shakespeare's mastery o"er his subject, if it !as not art, !as o!ing to a kno!le#ge of the connecting links of the passions, an# their effect upon the min#, still more !on#erful than any systematic a#herence to rules, an# that anticipate# an# out#i# all the efforts of the most refine# art, not inspire# an# ren#ere# instincti"e by genius$ ?ne of the most perfect #isplays of #ramatic po!er is the first inter"ie! bet!een >ear an# his #aughter, after the #esigne# affronts upon him, !hich till one of his knights remin#s him of them, his sanguine temperament ha# le# him to o"erlook$ He returns !ith his train from hunting, an# his usual impatience breaks out in his first !or#s, '>et me not stay a jot for #innerL go, get it rea#y$' He then encounters the faithful Cent in #isguise, an# retains him in his ser"iceL an# the first trial of his honest #uty is to trip up the heels of the officious Ste!ar# !ho makes so prominent an# #espicable a figure through the piece$ ?n the entrance of Gonerill the follo!ing #ialogue takes place5 >ear$ Ho! no!, #aughterN !hat makes that frontlet onN Dethinks, you are too much of late i' the fro!n$ ,ool$ &hou !ast a pretty fello!, !hen thou ha#'st no nee# to care for her fro!ningL no! thou art an ? !ithout a figure5 ) am better than thou art no!L ) am a fool, thou art nothing$GG*es, forsooth, ) !ill hol# my tongueL :&o Gonerill$= so your face bi#s me, though you say nothing$ Dum, mum$ He that keeps nor crust nor crum, Weary of all, shall !ant someGG &hat's a sheal'# peasco#4 :Pointing to >ear$= Gonerill$ Bot only, sir, this your allGlicens'# fool, %ut other of your insolent retinue 'o hourly carp an# MuarrelL breaking forth )n rank an# notGtoGbeGen#ure# riots$ ) ha# thought, by making this !ell kno!n unto you, &o ha"e foun# a safe re#ressL but no! gro! fearful, %y !hat yourself too late ha"e spoke an# #one, &hat you protect this course, an# put it on %y your allo!anceL !hich if you shoul#, the fault Woul# not 'scape censure, nor the re#resses sleep, Which in the ten#er of a !holesome !eal, Dight in their !orking #o you that offence, IWhich else !ere shameJ that then necessity

Woul# call #iscreet procee#ing$ ,ool$ ,or you tro!, nuncle, &he he#ge sparro! fe# the cuckoo so long, &hat it ha# its hea# bit off by its young$ So out !ent the can#le, an# !e !ere left #arkling$ >ear$ 6re you our #aughterN Gonerill$ Come, sir, ) !oul#, you !oul# make use of that goo# !is#om Whereof ) kno! you are fraughtL an# put a!ay &hese #ispositions, !hich of late transform you ,rom !hat you rightly are$ ,ool$ Day not an ass kno! !hen the cart #ra!s the horseNGGWhoop, @ug, ) lo"e thee$ >ear$ 'oes any here kno! meNGGWhy, this is not >ear5 'oes >ear !alk thusN speak thusNGGWhere are his eyesN .ither his notion !eakens, or his #iscernings 6re lethargy'#GGHa4 !akingNGG'&is not so$GG Who is it that can tell me !ho ) amNGG>ear's sha#o!N ) !oul# learn that5 for by the marks ?f so"'reignty, of kno!le#ge, an# of reason, ) shoul# be false persua#e# ) ha# #aughters$GG *our name, fair gentle!omanN Gonerill$ Come, sir5 &his a#miration is much o' the fa"our ?f other your ne! pranks$ ) #o beseech you &o un#erstan# my purposes aright5 6s you are ol# an# re"eren#, you shoul# be !ise5 Here #o you keep a hun#re# knights an# sMuiresL Den so #isor#er'#, so #ebauch'#, an# bol#, &hat this our court, infecte# !ith their manners, Sho!s like a riotous inn5 epicurism an# lust Dake it more like a ta"ern, or a brothel, &han a grac'# palace$ &he shame itself #oth speak ,or instant reme#y5 be then #esir'# %y her, that else !ill take the thing she begs, 6 little to #isMuantity your trainL 6n# the remain#er, that shall still #epen#, &o be such men as may besort your age, 6n# kno! themsel"es an# you$ >ear$ 'arkness an# #e"ils4 Sa##le my horsesL call my train together$GG 'egenerate %astar#4 )'ll not trouble theeL *et ha"e ) left a #aughter$ Gonerill$ *ou strike my people, an# your #isor#er'# Dake ser"ants of their betters$ .nter 6lbany rabble

>ear$ Woe, that too late repentsGG?, sir, are you comeN )s it your !illN speak, sir$GGPrepare my horses$GG :&o 6lbany$= )ngratitu#e4 thou marbleGhearte# fien#, Dore hi#eous, !hen thou sho!'st thee in a chil#, &han the seaGmonster4 6lbany$ Pray, sir, be patient$ >ear$ 'eteste# kite4 thou liest$ :&o Gonerill$= Dy train are men of choice an# rarest parts, &hat all particulars of #uty kno!L 6n# in the most e/act regar# support &he !orships of their name$GG? most small fault, Ho! ugly #i#st thou in Cor#elia sho!4 Which, like an engine, !rench'# my frame of nature ,rom the fi/t placeL #re! from my heart all lo"e, 6n# a##e# to the gall$ ? >ear, >ear, >ear4 %eat at the gate, that let thy folly in, :Striking his hea#$= 6n# thy #ear ju#gement out4GGGo, go, my people4 6lbany$ Dy lor#, ) am guiltless, as ) am ignorant ?f !hat hath mo"'# you$ >ear$ )t may be so, my lor#GG Hear, nature, hear5 #ear go##ess, hear4 Suspen# thy purpose, if thou #i#st inten# &o make this creature fruitful4 )nto her !omb con"ey sterilityL 'ry up in her the organs of increaseL 6n# from her #erogate bo#y ne"er spring 6 babe to honour her4 )f she must teem, Create her chil# of spleen5 that it may li"e, &o be a th!art #isnatur'# torment to her4 >et it stamp !rinkles in her bro! of youthL With ca#ent tears fret channels in her cheeksL &urn all her mother's pains, an# benefits, &o laughter an# contemptL that she may feel Ho! sharper than a serpent's tooth it is &o ha"e a thankless chil#4GG6!ay, a!ay4 :./it$= 6lbany$ Bo!, go#s, that !e a#ore, !hereof comes thisN

Gonerill$ Be"er afflict yourself to kno! the causeL %ut let his #isposition ha"e that scope &hat #otage gi"es it$ 0eGenter >ear >ear$ What, fifty of my follo!ers at a clap4 Within a fortnight4 6lbany$ What's the matter, sirN >ear$ )'ll tell theeL life an# #eath4 ) am asham'#

&hat thou hast po!er to shake my manhoo# thus5 :&o Gonerill$= &hat these hot tears, !hich break from me perforce, Shoul# make thee !orth them$GG%lasts an# fogs upon &he untente# !oun#ings of a father's curse Pierce e"ery sense about thee4GG?l# fon# eyes, %e!eep this cause again, )'ll pluck you outL 6n# cast you, !ith the !aters that you lose, &o temper clay$GGHa4 is it come to thisN >et it be so5GG*et ha"e ) left a #aughter, Who, ) am sure, is kin# an# comfortableL When she shall hear this of thee, !ith her nails She'll flay thy !olfish "isage$ &hou shalt fin# &hat )'ll resume the shape, !hich thou #ost think ) ha"e cast off fore"er$ :./eunt >ear, Cent, an# 6tten#ants$=

thee4

&his is certainly fine5 no !on#er that >ear says after it, '? let me not be ma#, not ma#, s!eet hea"ens,' feeling its effects by anticipation5 but fine as is this burst of rage an# in#ignation at the first blo! aime# at his hopes an# e/pectations, it is nothing near so fine as !hat follo!s from his #ouble #isappointment, an# his lingering efforts to see !hich of them he shall lean upon for support an# fin# comfort in, !hen both his #aughters turn against his age an# !eakness$ )t is !ith some #ifficulty that >ear gets to speak !ith his #aughter 0egan, an# her husban#, at Gloster's castle$ )n concert !ith Gonerill they ha"e left their o!n home on purpose to a"oi# him$ His apprehensions are fast alarme# by this circumstance, an# !hen Gloster, !hose guests they are, urges the fiery temper of the 'uke of Corn!all as an e/cuse for not importuning him a secon# time, >ear breaks out5 -engeance4 Plague4 'eath4 Confusion4 ,ieryN What fiery MualityN Why, Gloster, )'# speak !ith the 'uke of Corn!all an# his !ife$ 6fter!ar#s, feeling perhaps not !ell himself, he is incline# to a#mit their e/cuse from illness, but then recollecting that they ha"e set his messenger ICentJ in the stocks, all his suspicions are rouse# again, an# he insists on seeing them$ .nter Corn!all, 0egan, Gloster, an# Ser"ants$ >ear$ Goo#Gmorro! to you both$ Corn!all$ Hail to your grace4 :Cent is set at liberty$= 0egan$ ) am gla# to see your highness$ >ear$ 0egan, ) think you areL ) kno! !hat reason ) ha"e to think soL if thou shoul#'st not be gla#, ) !oul# #i"orce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulch'ring an a#ultress$GG?, are you freeN :&o Cent$=

Some other time for that$GG%elo"e# 0egan, &hy sister's naught5 ? 0egan, she hath tie# SharpGtooth'# unkin#ness, like a "ulture, hereGG :Points to his heart$= ) can scarce speak to theeL thou'lt not belie"e, ?f ho! #epra"'# a MualityGGo 0egan4 0egan$ ) pray you, sir, take patienceL ) ha"e hope *ou less kno! ho! to "alue her #esert, &han she to scant her #uty$ >ear$ Say, ho! is thatN 0egan$ ) cannot think my sister in the least Woul# fail her obligationL if, sir, perchance, She ha"e restrain'# the riots of your follo!ers, '&is on such groun#, an# to such !holesome en#, 6s clears her from all blame$ >ear$ Dy curses on her4 0egan$ ?, sir, you are ol#L Bature in you stan#s on the "ery "erge ?f her confine5 you shoul# be rul'#, an# le# %y some #iscretion, that #iscerns your state %etter than you yourself5 therefore, ) pray you, &hat to our sister you #o make returnL Say, you ha"e !rong'# her, sir$ >ear$ 6sk her forgi"enessN 'o you but mark ho! this becomes the useN 'ear #aughter, ) confess that ) am ol#L 6ge is unnecessaryL on my knees ) beg, &hat you'll "ouchsafe me raiment, be#, an# foo#$ 0egan$ Goo# sir, no moreL these are unsightly tricks5 0eturn you to my sister$ >ear$ Be"er, 0egan5 She hath abate# me of half my trainL >ook'# blank upon meL struck me !ith her tongue, Dost serpentGlike, upon the "ery heart5GG 6ll the stor'# "engeances of hea"en fall ?n her ungrateful top4 Strike her young bones, *ou taking airs, !ith lameness4 Corn!all$ ,ie, sir, fie4 >ear5 *ou nimble lightnings, #art your blin#ing flames )nto her scornful eyes4 )nfect her beauty, *ou fenGsuck'# fogs, #ra!n by the po!erful sun, &o fall, an# blast her pri#e4 0egan$ ? the blest go#s4 So !ill you !ish on me, !hen the rash moo# is on$ >ear$ Bo, 0egan, thou shalt ne"er ha"e my curseL

&hy ten#erGhefte# nature shall not gi"e &hee o'er to harshnessL her eyes are fierce, but thine 'o comfort, an# not burn5 '&is not in thee &o gru#ge my pleasures, to cut off my train, &o ban#y hasty !or#s, to scant my sizes, 6n#, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt 6gainst my coming in5 thou better kno!'st &he offices of nature, bon# of chil#hoo#, .ffects of courtesy, #ues of gratitu#eL &hy half o' the king#om thou hast not forgot, Wherein ) thee en#o!'#$ 0egan$ Goo# sir, to the purpose$ :&rumpets !ithin=

>ear$ Who put my man i' the stocksN Corn!all$ What trumpet's thatN .nter Ste!ar# 0egan$ ) kno!'t, my sister'sL this appro"es her letter, &hat she !oul# soon be here$GG)s your la#y comeN >ear$ &his is a sla"e, !hose easyGborro!'# pri#e '!ells in the fickle grace of her he follo!s5GG ?ut, "arlet, from my sight4 Corn!all$ What means your graceN >ear$ Who stock'# my ser"antN 0egan, ) ha"e goo# &hou #i#'st not kno! on't$GGWho comes hereN ? .nter Gonerill )f you #o lo"e ol# men, if your s!eet s!ay 6llo! obe#ience, if yoursel"es are ol#, Dake it your causeL sen# #o!n, an# take my part4GG 6rt not asham'# to look upon this bear#NGG :&o Gonerill$= ?, 0egan, !ilt thou take her by the han#N Gonerill$ Why not by the han#, sirN Ho! ha"e ) offen#e#N 6ll's not offence, that in#iscretion fin#s, 6n# #otage terms so$ >ear$ ?, si#es, you are too tough4 Will you yet hol#NGGHo! came my man i' the stocksN Corn!all$ ) set him there, sir5 but his o!n #isor#ers 'eser"'# much less a#"ancement$ >ear$ *ou4 #i# youN 0egan$ ) pray you, father, being !eak, seem so$ )f, till the e/piration of your month, *ou !ill return an# sojourn !ith my sister, hope hea"ens,

'ismissing half your train, come then to meL ) am no! from home, an# out of that pro"ision Which shall be nee#ful for your entertainment$ >ear$ 0eturn to her, an# fifty men #ismiss'#N Bo, rather ) abjure all roofs, an# choose &o be a comra#e !ith the !olf an# o!lGG &o !age against the enmity o' the air, Becessity's sharp pinch4GG0eturn !ith her4 Why, the hotGbloo#e# ,rance, that #o!erless took ?ur youngest born, ) coul# as !ell be brought &o knee his throne, an# sMuireGlike pension beg &o keep base life afoot$GG0eturn !ith her4 Persua#e me rather to be sla"e an# sumpter &o this #eteste# groom$ :>ooking on the Ste!ar#$= Gonerill$ 6t your choice, sir$ >ear$ Bo!, ) pr'ythee, #aughter, #o not make me ma#L ) !ill not trouble thee, my chil#L fare!ell5 We'll no more meet, no more see one another5GG %ut yet thou art my flesh, my bloo#, my #aughterL ?r, rather, a #isease that's in my flesh, Which ) must nee#s call mine5 thou art a bile, 6 plagueGsore, an embosse# carbuncle, )n my corrupte# bloo#$ %ut )'ll not chi#e thee5 >et shame come !hen it !ill, ) #o not call it5 ) #i# not bi# the thun#erGbearer shoot, Bor tell tales of thee to highGju#ging @o"e5 Den# !hen thou canstL be better, at thy leisure5 ) can be patientL ) can stay !ith 0egan, ), an# my hun#re# knights$ 0egan$ Bot altogether so, sirL ) look'# not for you yet, nor am pro"i#e# ,or your fit !elcome5 Gi"e ear, sir, to my sisterL ,or those that mingle reason !ith your passion Dust be content to think you ol#, an# soGG %ut she kno!s !hat she #oes$ >ear$ )s this !ell spoken no!N 0egan$ ) #are a"ouch it, sir5 What, fifty follo!ersN )s it not !ellN What shoul# you nee# of moreN *ea, or so manyN Sith that both charge an# #anger Speak 'gainst so great a numberN Ho!, in one house, Shoul# many people, un#er t!o comman#s, Hol# amityN &is har#L almost impossible$ Gonerill$ Why might you not, my lor#, recei"e atten#ance ,rom those that she calls ser"ants, or from mineN 0egan$ Why not, my lor#N )f then they chanc'# to slack you, We !oul# control them5 if you !ill come to me I,or no! ) spy a #angerJ ) entreat you &o bring but fi"eGan#Gt!entyL to no more Will ) gi"e place, or notice$

>ear$ ) ga"e you allGG 0egan$ 6n# in goo# time you ga"e it$ >ear$ Da#e you my guar#ians, my #epositariesL %ut kept a reser"ation to be follo!'# With such a number5 !hat, must ) come to you With fi"eGan#Gt!enty, 0egan4 sai# you soN 0egan$ 6n# speak it again, my lor#L no more !ith me$

>ear$ &hose !icke# creatures yet #o look !ellGfa"our'#, When others are more !icke#L not being the !orst, Stan#s in some rank of praise5GG)'ll go !ith theeL :&o Gonerill$= &hy fifty yet #oth #ouble fi"eGan#Gt!enty, 6n# thou art t!ice her lo"e$ Gonerill$ Hear me, my lor#L What nee# you fi"eGan#Gt!enty, ten, or fi"e, &o follo! in a house, !here t!ice so many Ha"e a comman# to ten# youN 0egan$ What nee# oneN >ear$ ?, reason not the nee#5 our basest beggars 6re in the poorest thing superfluous5 6llo! not nature more than nature nee#s, Dan's life is cheap as beast's5 thou art a la#yL )f only to go !arm !ere gorgeous, Why, nature nee#s not !hat thou gorgeous !ear'stL Which scarcely keeps thee !arm$GG%ut, for true nee#GG *ou hea"ens, gi"e me that patience !hich ) nee#4 *ou see me here, you go#sL a poor ol# man, 6s full of grief as ageL !retche# in both4 )f it be you that stir these #aughters' hearts 6gainst their father, fool me not so much &o bear it tamelyL touch me !ith noble anger4 ?, let no !oman's !eapons, !aterG#rops, Stain my man's cheeks4GGBo, you unnatural hags, ) !ill ha"e such re"enges on you both, &hat all the !orl# shallGG) !ill #o such thingsGG What they are, yet ) kno! notL but they shall be &he terrors of the earth$ *ou think, )'ll !eep5 Bo, )'ll not !eep5GG ) ha"e full cause of !eepingL but this heart Shall break into a hun#re# thousan# fla!s, ?r e'er )'ll !eep5GG?, fool, ) shall go ma#4 :./eunt >ear, Gloster, Cent, an# ,ool$= )f there is anything in any author like this yearning of the heart, these throes of ten#erness, this profoun# e/pression of all that can be thought an# felt in the most heartGren#ing situations, !e are gla# of itL but it is in some author that !e ha"e not rea#$ &he scene in the storm, !here he is e/pose# to all the fury of the

elements, though gran# an# terrible, is not so fine, but the moralizing scenes !ith Da# &om, Cent, an# Gloster, are upon a par !ith the former$ His e/clamation in the suppose# trialGscene of his #aughters, 'See the little #ogs an# all, &ray, %lanch, an# S!eetheart, see they bark at me,' his issuing his or#ers, '>et them anatomize 0egan, see !hat bree#s about her heart,' an# his reflection !hen he sees the misery of .#gar, 'Bothing but his unkin# #aughters coul# ha"e brought him to this,' are in a style of pathos, !here the e/tremest resources of the imagination are calle# in to lay open the #eepest mo"ements of the heart, !hich !as peculiar to Shakespeare$ )n the same style an# spirit is his interrupting the ,ool !ho asks, '!hether a ma#man be a gentleman or a yeoman', by ans!ering '6 king, a king4' &he in#irect part that Gloster takes in these scenes !here his generosity lea#s him to relie"e >ear an# resent the cruelty of his #aughters, at the "ery time that he is himself instigate# to seek the life of his son, an# suffering un#er the sting of his suppose# ingratitu#e, is a striking accompaniment to the situation of >ear$ )n#ee#, the manner in !hich the threa#s of the story are !o"en together is almost as !on#erful in the !ay of art as the carrying on the ti#e of passion, still "arying an# unimpaire#, is on the score of nature$ 6mong the remarkable instances of this kin# are .#gar's meeting !ith his ol# blin# fatherL the #eception he practises upon him !hen he preten#s to lea# him to the top of 'o"erGcliffGG'Come on, sir, here's the place,' to pre"ent his en#ing his life an# miseries togetherL his encounter !ith the perfi#ious Ste!ar# !hom he kills, an# his fin#ing the letter from Gonerill to his brother upon him !hich lea#s to the final catastrophe, an# brings the !heel of @ustice 'full circle home' to the guilty parties$ &he bustle an# rapi# succession of e"ents in the last scenes is surprising$ %ut the meeting bet!een >ear an# Cor#elia is by far the most affecting part of them$ )t has all the !il#ness of poetry, an# all the heartfelt truth of nature$ &he pre"ious account of her reception of the ne!s of his unkin# treatment, her in"oluntary reproaches to her sisters, 'Shame, la#ies, shame,' >ear's back!ar#ness to see his #aughter, the picture of the #esolate state to !hich he is re#uce#, '6lack,'tis heL !hy he !as met e"en no!, as ma# as the "e/'# sea, singing alou#,' only prepare the !ay for an# heighten our e/pectation of !hat follo!s, an# assure#ly this e/pectation is not #isappointe# !hen through the ten#er care of Cor#elia he re"i"es an# recollects her$ Cor#elia$ Ho! #oes my royal lor#N Ho! fares your >ear$ *ou #o me !rong, to take me out o' the gra"e5 &hou art a soul in blissL but ) am boun# Apon a !heel of fire, that mine o!n tears 'o scal# like molten lea#$ Cor#elia$ Sir, #o you kno! meN >ear$ *ou are a spirit ) kno!5 !hen #i# you #ieN Cor#elia$ Still, still, far !i#e4 Physician$ He's scarce a!akeL let him alone a!hile$ majesty4

>ear$ Where ha"e ) beenN Where am )NGG,air #aylightNGG ) am mightily abus'#$GG) shoul# e"en #ie !ith pity, &o see another thus$GG) kno! not !hat to say$GG ) !ill not s!ear these are my han#s5GGlet's seeL ) feel this pin prick$ 'Woul# ) !ere assur'# ?f my con#ition$ Cor#elia$ ?, look upon me, sir, 6n# hol# your han#s in bene#iction o'er me5GG Bo, sir, you must not kneel$ >ear$ Pray, #o not mock me5 ) am a "ery foolish fon# ol# man, ,ourscore an# up!ar#L Bot an hour more, nor less5 an#, to #eal plainly, ) fear, ) am not in my perfect min#$ Dethinks, ) shou'# kno! you, an# kno! this manL *et ) am #oubtful5 for ) am mainly ignorant What place this isL an# all the skill ) ha"e 0emembers not these garmentsL nor ) kno! not Where ) #i# lo#ge last night5 #o not laugh at meL ,or, as ) am a man, ) think this la#y &o be my chil# Cor#elia$ Cor#elia$ 6n# so ) am, ) am4 6lmost eMual to this in a!ful beauty is their consolation of each other !hen, after the triumph of their enemies, they are le# to prison$ Cor#elia$ We are not the first, Who, !ith best meaning, ha"e incurr'# the !orst$ ,or thee, oppresse# king, am ) cast #o!nL Dyself coul# else outGfro!n false fortune's fro!n$GG Shall !e not see these #aughters, an# these sistersN >ear$ Bo, no, no, no4 Come, let's a!ay to prison5 We t!o alone !ill sing like bir#s i' the cage5 When thou #ost ask me blessing, )'ll kneel #o!n, 6n# ask of thee forgi"eness5 so !e'll li"e, 6n# pray, an# sing, an# tell ol# tales, an# laugh 6t gil#e# butterflies, an# hear poor rogues &alk of court ne!sL an# !e'll talk !ith them tooGG Who loses, an# !ho !insL !ho's in, !ho's outLGG 6n# take upon us the mystery of things, 6s if !e !ere Go#'s spies5 an# !e'll !ear out, )n a !all'# prison, packs an# sects of great ones, &hat ebb an# flo! by the moon$ .#mun#$ &ake them a!ay$ >ear$ Apon such sacrifices, my Cor#elia, &he go#s themsel"es thro! incense$ &he conclu#ing e"ents are sa#, painfully sa#L but their pathos is e/treme$ &he oppression of the feelings is relie"e# by the "ery

interest !e take in the misfortunes of others, an# by the reflections to !hich they gi"e birth$ Cor#elia is hange# in prison by the or#ers of the bastar# .#mun#, !hich are kno!n too late to be counterman#e#, an# >ear #ies brokenGhearte#, lamenting o"er her$ >ear$ 6n# my poor fool is hang'#4 Bo, no, no life5 Why shoul# a #og, a horse, a rat, ha"e life$ 6n# thou no breath at allN ?, thou !ilt come no more, Be"er, ne"er, ne"er, ne"er, ne"er4GG Pray you, un#o this button5 thank you, sir$GGG He #ies, an# in#ee# !e feel the truth of !hat Cent says on the occasionGG -e/ not his ghost5 ?, let him pass4 he hates him, &hat !oul# upon the rack of the rough !orl# Stretch him out longer$ *et a happy en#ing has been contri"e# for this play, !hich is appro"e# of by 'r$ @ohnson an# con#emne# by Schlegel$ 6 better authority than either, on any subject in !hich poetry an# feeling are concerne#, has gi"en it in fa"our of Shakespeare, in some remarks on the acting of >ear, !ith !hich !e shall conclu#e this account$ &he >ear of Shakespeare cannot be acte#$ &he contemptible machinery !ith !hich they mimic the storm !hich he goes out in, is not more ina#eMuate to represent the horrors of the real elements than any actor can be to represent >ear$ &he greatness of >ear is not in corporal #imension, but in intellectualL the e/plosions of his passions are terrible as a "olcano5 they are storms turning up an# #isclosing to the bottom that rich sea, his min#, !ith all its "ast riches$ )t is his min# !hich is lai# bare$ &his case of flesh an# bloo# seems too insignificant to be thought onL e"en as he himself neglects it$ ?n the stage !e see nothing but corporal infirmities an# !eakness, the impotence of rageL !hile !e rea# it, !e see not >ear, but !e are >earLGG!e are in his min#, !e are sustaine# by a gran#eur, !hich baffles the malice of #aughters an# stormsL in the aberrations of his reason, !e #isco"er a mighty irregular po!er of reasoning, immetho#ize# from the or#inary purposes of life, but e/erting its po!ers, as the !in# blo!s !here it listeth, at !ill on the corruptions an# abuses of mankin#$ What ha"e looks or tones to #o !ith that sublime i#entification of his age !ith that of &H. H.6-.BS &H.DS.>-.S, !hen in his reproaches to them for conni"ing at the injustice of his chil#ren, he remin#s them that (they themsel"es are ol#4( What gesture shall !e appropriate to thisN What has the "oice or the eye to #o !ith such thingsN %ut the play is beyon# all art, as the tamperings !ith it sho!5 it is too har# an# stonyL it must ha"e lo"eGscenes, an# a happy en#ing$ )t is not enough that Cor#elia is a #aughter, she must shine as a lo"er too$ &ate has put his hook in the nostrils of this >e"iathan, for Garrick an# his follo!ers, the sho!men of the scene, to #ra! it about more easily$ 6 happy en#ing4GGas if the li"ing martyr#om that >ear ha# gone through,GGthe flaying of his feelings ali"e, #i# not make a fair #ismissal from the stage of life the only #ecorous thing for him$ )f he is to li"e an# be happy after, if he coul# sustain this !orl#'s bur#en after, !hy all this pu##er an# preparationGG!hy torment us

!ith all this unnecessary sympathyN 6s if the chil#ish pleasure of getting his gilt robes an# sceptre again coul# tempt him to act o"er again his misuse# stationGGas if at his years an# !ith his e/perience anything !as left but to #ie$' :,ootnote5 See an article, calle# '&heatralia', in the secon# "olume of the 0eflector, by Charles >amb$= ,our things ha"e struck us in rea#ing >.605 1$ &hat poetry is an interesting stu#y, for this reason, that it relates to !hate"er is most interesting in human life$ Whoe"er therefore has a contempt for poetry, has a contempt for himself an# humanity$ 7$ &hat the language of poetry is superior to the language of paintingL because the strongest of our recollections relate to feelings, not to faces$ $ &hat the greatest strength of genius is sho!n in #escribing the strongest passions5 for the po!er of the imagination, in !orks of in"ention, must be in proportion to the force of the natural impressions, !hich are the subject of them$ 9$ &hat the circumstance !hich balances the pleasure against the pain in trage#y is, that in proportion to the greatness of the e"il, is our sense an# #esire of the opposite goo# e/cite#L an# that our sympathy !ith actual suffering is lost in the strong impulse gi"en to our natural affections, an# carrie# a!ay !ith the s!ellGing ti#e of passion, that gushes from an# relie"es the heart$

0)CH60' )) 0)CH60' )) is a play little kno!n compare# !ith 0)CH60' ))), !hich last is a play that e"ery unfle#ge# can#i#ate for theatrical fame chooses to strut an# fret his hour upon the stage inL yet !e confess that !e prefer the nature an# feeling of the one to the noise an# bustle of the otherL at least, as !e are so often force# to see it acte#$ )n 0)CH60' )) the !eakness of the king lea"es us leisure to take a greater interest in the misfortunes of the man$ '6fter the first act, in !hich the arbitrariness of his beha"iour only pro"es his !ant of resolution, !e see him staggering un#er the unlooke#Gfor blo!s of fortune, be!ailing his loss of kingly po!erL not pre"enting it, sinking un#er the aspiring genius of %olingbroke, his authority trample# on, his hopes failing him, an# his pri#e crushe# an# broken #o!n un#er insults an# injuries, !hich his o!n miscon#uct ha# pro"oke#, but !hich he has not courage or manliness to resent$ &he change of tone an# beha"iour in the t!o competitors for the throne accor#ing to their change of fortune, from the capricious sentence of banishment passe# by 0ichar# upon %olingbroke, the suppliant offers an# mo#est pretensions of the latter on his return, to the high an# haughty tone !ith !hich he accepts 0ichar#'s resignation of the cro!n after the loss of all his po!er, the use !hich he makes of

the #epose# king to grace his triumphal progress through the streets of >on#on, an# the final intimation of his !ish for his #eath, !hich imme#iately fin#s a ser"ile e/ecutioner, is marke# throughout !ith complete effect an# !ithout the slightest appearance of effort$ &he steps by !hich %olingbroke mounts the throne are those by !hich 0ichar# sinks into the gra"e$ We feel neither respect nor lo"e for the #epose# monarchL for he is as !anting in energy as in principle5 but !e pity him, for he pities himself$ His heart is by no means har#ene# against himself, but blee#s afresh at e"ery ne! stroke of mischance, an# his sensibility, absorbe# in his o!n person, an# unuse# to misfortune, is not only ten#erly ali"e to its o!n sufferings, but !ithout the fortitu#e to bear them$ He is, ho!e"er, human in his #istressesL for to feel pain, an# sorro!, !eakness, #isappointment, remorse an# anguish, is the lot of humanity, an# !e sympathize !ith him accor#ingly$ &he sufferings of the man make us forget that he e"er !as a king$ &he right assume# by so"ereign po!er to trifle at its !ill !ith the happiness of others as a matter of course, or to remit its e/ercise as a matter of fa"our, is strikingly sho!n in the sentence of banishment so unjustly pronounce# on %olingbroke an# Do!bray, an# in !hat %olingbroke says !hen four years of his banishment are taken off, !ith as little reason5 Ho! long a time lies in one little !or#4 ,our lagging !inters an# four !anton springs .n# in a !or#5 such is the breath of kings$ 6 more affecting image of the loneliness of a state of e/ile can har#ly be gi"en than by !hat %olingbroke after!ar#s obser"es of his ha"ing 'sighe# his .nglish breath in foreign clou#s'L or than that con"eye# in Do!bray's complaint at being banishe# for life$ &he language ) ha"e learne# these forty years, Dy nati"e .nglish, no! ) must foregoL 6n# no! my tongue's use is to me no more &han an unstringe# "iol or a harp, ?r like a cunning instrument cas'# up, ?r being open, put into his han#s &hat kno!s no touch to tune the harmony$ ) am too ol# to fa!n upon a nurse, &oo far in years to be a pupil no!$GG Ho! "ery beautiful is all this, an# at the same time ho! "ery .BG>)SH too4 0)CH60' )) may be consi#ere# as the first of that series of .nglish historical plays, in !hich 'is hung armour of the in"incible knights of ol#', in !hich their hearts seem to strike against their coats of mail, !here their bloo# tingles for the fight, an# !or#s are but the harbingers of blo!s$ ?f this state of accomplishe# barbarism the appeal of %olingbroke an# Do!bray is an a#mirable specimen$ 6nother of these 'keen encounters of their !its', !hich ser"e to !het the talkers' s!or#s, is !here 6umerle ans!ers in the presence of %olingbroke to the charge !hich %agot brings against him of being an accessory in Gloster's #eath$

,itz!ater$ )f that thy "alour stan# on sympathies, &here is my gage, 6umerle, in gage to thineL %y that fair sun that sho!s me !here thou stan#'st ) hear# thee say, an# "auntingly thou spak'st it, &hat thou !ert cause of noble Gloster's #eath$ )f thou #eny'st it t!enty times thou liest, 6n# ) !ill turn thy falsehoo# to thy heart Where it !as forge#, !ith my rapier's point$ 6umerle$ &hou #ar'st not, co!ar#, li"e to see the #ay, ,itz!ater$ Bo!, by my soul, ) !oul# it !ere this hour$ 6umerle$ ,itz!ater, thou art #amn'# to hell for this$ Percy$ 6umerle, thou liestL his honour is as true, )n this appeal, as thou art all unjustL 6n# that thou art so, there ) thro! my gage &o pro"e it on thee, to th' e/tremest point ?f mortal breathing$ Seize it, if thou #ar'st$ 6umerle$ 6n# if ) #o not, may my han#s rot off, 6n# ne"er bran#ish more re"engeful steel ?"er the glittering helmet of my foe$ Who sets me elseN %y hea"'n, )'ll thro! at all$ ) ha"e a thousan# spirits in my breast, &o ans!er t!enty thousan# such as you$ Surrey$ Dy lor# ,itz!ater, ) remember !ell &he "ery time 6umerle an# you #i# talk$ ,itz!ater$ Dy lor#, 'tis true5 you !ere in presence thenL 6n# you can !itness !ith me, this is true$ Surrey$ 6s false, by hea"'n, as hea"'n itself is true$ ,itz!ater, Surrey, thou liest$ Surrey$ 'ishonourable boy, &hat lie shall lie so hea"y on my s!or#, &hat it shall ren#er "engeance an# re"enge, &ill thou the lieGgi"er an# that lie rest )n earth as Muiet as thy father's skull$ )n proof !hereof, there is mine honour's pa!n5 .ngage it to the trial, if thou #ar'st$ ,itz!ater$ Ho! fon#ly #ost thou spur a for!ar# horse5 )f ) #are eat or #rink or breathe or li"e, ) #are meet Surrey in a !il#erness, 6n# spit upon him, !hilst ) say he lies, 6n# lies, an# lies5 there is my bon# of faith, &o tie thee to thy strong correction$ 6s ) #o hope to thri"e in this ne! !orl#, 6umerle is guilty of my true appeal$ &he truth is, that there is neither truth nor honour in all these noble persons5 they ans!er !or#s !ith !or#s, as they #o blo!s !ith

blo!s, in mere selfG#efence5 nor ha"e they any principle !hate"er but that of courage in maintaining any !rong they #are commit, or any falsehoo# !hich they fin# it useful to assert$ Ho! #ifferent !ere these noble knights an# 'barons bol#' from their more refine# #escen#ants in the present #ay, !ho instea# of #eci#ing Muestions of right by brute force, refer e"erything to con"enience, fashion, an# goo# bree#ing4 )n point of any abstract lo"e of truth or justice, they are just the same no! that they !ere then$ &he characters of ol# @ohn of Gaunt an# of his brother *ork, uncles to the Cing, the one stern an# forebo#ing, the other honest, goo#G nature#, #oing all for the best, an# therefore #oing nothing, are !ell kept up$ &he speech of the former, in praise of .nglan#, is one of the most eloMuent that e"er !as penne#$ We shoul# perhaps har#ly be #ispose# to fee# the pampere# egotism of our countrymen by Muoting this #escription, !ere it not that the conclusion of it I!hich looks propheticJ may Mualify any improper #egree of e/ultation$ &his royal throne of kings, this sceptere# isle, &his earth of Dajesty, this seat of Dars, &his other .#en, #emiGPara#ise, &his fortress built by nature for herself 6gainst infection an# the han# of !arL &his happy bree# of men, this little !orl#, &his precious stone set in the sil"er sea, Which ser"es it in the office of a !all I?r as a moat #efensi"e to a houseJ 6gainst the en"y of less happy lan#s5 &his nurse, this teeming !omb of royal kings, ,ear'# for their bree# an# famous for their birth, 0eno!n'# for their #ee#s, as far from home, ,or Christian ser"ice an# true chi"alry, 6s is the sepulchre in stubborn @e!ry ?f the !orl#'s ransom, blesse# Dary's sonL &his lan# of such #ear souls, this #ear #ear lan#, 'ear for her reputation through the !orl#, )s no! leas'# out I) #ie pronouncing itJ >ike to a tenement or pelting farm$ .nglan# boun# in !ith the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the en"ious surge ?f !at'ry Beptune, is boun# in !ith shame, With inkyGblots an# rotten parchment bon#s$ &hat .nglan#, that !as !ont to conMuer others, Hath ma#e a shameful conMuest of itself$ &he character of %olingbroke, after!ar#s Henry )-, is #ra!n !ith a masterly han#5GGpatient for occasion, an# then stea#ily a"ailing himself of it, seeing his a#"antage afar off, but only seizing on it !hen he has it !ithin his reach, humble, crafty, bol#, an# aspiring, encroaching by regular but slo! #egrees, buil#ing po!er on opinion, an# cementing opinion by po!er$ His #isposition is first unfol#e# by 0ichar# himself, !ho ho!e"er is too selfG!ille# an# secure to make a proper use of his kno!le#ge$ ?urself an# %ushy, %agot here an# Green, ?bser"e# his courtship of the common peopleL

Ho! he #i# seem to #i"e into their hearts, With humble an# familiar courtesy, What re"erence he #i# thro! a!ay on sla"esL Wooing poor craftsmen !ith the craft of smiles, 6n# patient un#erGbearing of his fortune, 6s 't!ere to banish their affections !ith him$ ?ff goes his bonnet to an oysterG!enchL 6 brace of #raymen bi# Go# spee# him !ell, 6n# ha# the tribute of his supple knee, With thanks my countrymen, my lo"ing frien#sL 6s !ere our .nglan# in re"ersion his, 6n# he our subjects' ne/t #egree in hope$ 6fter!ar#s, he gi"es his o!n character to Percy, in these !or#s5 ) thank thee, gentle Percy, an# be sure ) count myself in nothing else so happy, 6s in a soul rememb'ring my goo# frien#sL 6n# as my fortune ripens !ith thy lo"e, )t shall be still thy true lo"e's recompense$ We kno! ho! he after!ar#s kept his promise$ His bol# assertion of his o!n rights, his preten#e# submission to the king, an# the ascen#ancy !hich he tacitly assumes o"er him !ithout openly claiming it, as soon as he has him in his po!er, are characteristic traits of this ambitious an# politic usurper$ %ut the part of 0ichar# himself gi"es the chief interest to the play$ His folly, his "ices, his misfortunes, his reluctance to part !ith the cro!n, his fear to keep it, his !eak an# !omanish regrets, his starting tears, his fits of hectic passion, his smothere# majesty, pass in succession before us, an# make a picture as natural as it is affecting$ 6mong the most striking touches of pathos are his !ish, '? that ) !ere a mockery king of sno! to melt a!ay before the sun of %olingbroke', an# the inci#ent of the poor groom !ho comes to "isit him in prison, an# tells him ho! 'it yearne# his heart that %olingbroke upon his coronation #ay ro#e on 0oan %arbary$ We shall ha"e occasion to return hereafter to the character of 0ichar# )) in speaking of Henry -)$ &here is only one passage more, the #escription of his entrance into >on#on !ith %olingbroke, !hich !e shoul# like to Muote here, if it ha# not been so use# an# !orn out, so thumbe# an# got by rote, so praise# an# painte#L but its beauty surmounts all these consi#erations$ 'uchess$ Dy lor#, you tol# me you !oul# tell the rest, When !eeping ma#e you break the story off ?f our t!o cousins coming into >on#on$ *ork$ Where #i# ) lea"eN 'uchess$ 6t that sa# stop, my lor#, Where ru#e misgo"ern'# han#s, from !in#o! tops, &hre! #ust an# rubbish on king 0ichar#'s hea#$ *ork$ &hen, as ) sai#, the #uke, great %olingbroke, Dounte# upon a hot an# fiery stee#, Which his aspiring ri#er seem'# to kno!, With slo!, but stately pace, kept on his course,

While all tongues crie#GGGo# sa"e thee, %olingbroke4 *ou !oul# ha"e thought the "ery !in#o!s spake, So many gree#y looks of young an# ol# &hrough casements #arte# their #esiring eyes Apon his "isageL an# that all the !alls, With painte# imag'ry, ha# sai# at onceGG @esu preser"e thee4 !elcome, %olingbroke4 Whilst he, from one si#e to the other turning, %areGhea#e#, lo!er than his prou# stee#'s neck, %espake them thusGG) thank you, countrymen5 6n# thus still #oing thus he pass'# along$ 'uchess$ 6las, poor 0ichar#4 !here ri#es he the !hileN *ork$ 6s in a theatre, the eyes of men, 6fter a !ellGgrac'# actor lea"es the stage, 6re i#ly bent on him that enters ne/t, &hinking his prattle to be te#ious5 ."en so, or !ith much more contempt, men's eyes 'i# sco!l on 0ichar#L no man crie# Go# sa"e him4 Bo joyful tongue ga"e him his !elcome home5 %ut #ust !as thro!n upon his sacre# hea#4 Which !ith such gentle sorro! he shook offGG His face still combating !ith tears an# smiles, &he ba#ges of his grief an# patienceGG &hat ha# not Go#, for some strong purpose, steel'# &he hearts of men, they must perforce ha"e melte#$ 6n# barbarism itself ha"e pitie# him$

H.B0* ))B &W? P60&S )f Shakespeare's fon#ness for the lu#icrous sometimes le# to faults in his trage#ies I!hich !as not often the caseJ, he has ma#e us amen#s by the character of ,alstaff$ &his is perhaps the most substantial comic character that e"er !as in"ente#$ Sir @ohn carries a most portly presence in the min#'s eyeL an# in him, not to speak it profanely, '!e behol# the fullness of the spirit of !it an# humour bo#ily'$ We are as !ell acMuainte# !ith his person as his min#, an# his jokes come upon us !ith #ouble force an# relish from the Muantity of flesh through !hich they make their !ay, as he shakes his fat si#es !ith laughter, or 'lar#s the lean earth as he !alks along'$ ?ther comic characters seem, if !e approach an# han#le them, to resol"e themsel"es into air, 'into thin air'L but this is embo#ie# an# palpable to the grossest apprehension5 it lies 'three fingers #eep upon the ribs', it plays about the lungs an# the #iaphragm !ith all the force of animal enjoyment$ His bo#y is like a goo# estate to his min#, from !hich he recei"es rents an# re"enues of profit an# pleasure in kin#, accor#ing to its e/tent, an# the

richness of the soil$ Wit is often a meagre substitute for pleasurable sensationL an effusion of spleen an# petty spite at the comforts of others, from feeling none in itself$ ,alstaff's !it is an emanation of a fine constitutionL an e/uberance of goo#Ghumour an# goo#GnatureL an o"erflo!ing of his lo"e of laughter, an# goo#G fello!shipL a gi"ing "ent to his heart's ease an# o"erGcontentment !ith himself an# others$ He !oul# not be in character, if he !ere not so fat as he isL for there is the greatest keeping in the boun#less lu/ury of his imagination an# the pampere# selfGin#ulgence of his physical appetites$ He manures an# nourishes his min# !ith jests, as he #oes his bo#y !ith sack an# sugar$ He car"es out his jokes, as he !oul# a capon, or a haunch of "enison, !here there is cut an# come againL an# pours out upon them the oil of gla#ness$ His tongue #rops fatness, an# in the chambers of his brain 'it sno!s of meat an# #rink'$ He keeps up perpetual holi#ay an# open house, an# !e li"e !ith him in a roun# of in"itations to a rump an# #ozen$GG*et !e are not to suppose that he !as a mere sensualist$ 6ll this is as much in imagination as in reality$ His sensuality #oes not engross an# stupify his other faculties, but 'ascen#s me into the brain, clears a!ay all the #ull, cru#e "apours that en"iron it, an# makes it full of nimble, fiery, an# #electable shapes'$ His imagination keeps up the ball after his senses ha"e #one !ith it$ He seems to ha"e e"en a greater enjoyment of the free#om from restraint, of goo# cheer, of his ease, of his "anity, in the i#eal e/aggerate# #escriptions !hich he gi"es of them, than in fact$ He ne"er fails to enrich his #iscourse !ith allusions to eating an# #rinking, but !e ne"er see him at table$ He carries his o!n lar#er about !ith him, an# he is himself 'a tun of man'$ His pulling out the bottle in the fiel# of battle is a joke to sho! his contempt for glory accompanie# !ith #anger, his systematic a#herence to his .picurean philosophy in the most trying circumstances$ 6gain, such is his #eliberate e/aggeration of his o!n "ices, that it #oes not seem Muite certain !hether the account of his hostess's bill, foun# in his pocket, !ith such an outGofGtheG!ay charge for capons an# sack !ith only one halfpennyG!orth of brea#, !as not put there by himself as a trick to humour the jest upon his fa"ourite propensities, an# as a conscious caricature of himself$ He is represente# as a liar, a braggart, a co!ar#, a glutton, Oc$, an# yet !e are not offen#e# but #elighte# !ith himL for he is all these as much to amuse others as to gratify himself, He openly assumes all these characters to sho! the humorous part of them$ &he unrestraine# in#ulgence of his o!n ease, appetites, an# con"enience, has neither malice nor hypocrisy in it$ )n a !or#, he is an actor in himself almost as much as upon the stage, an# !e no more object to the character of ,alstaff in a moral point of "ie! than !e shoul# think of bringing an e/cellent come#ian, !ho shoul# represent him to the life, before one of the police offices$ We only consi#er the number of pleasant lights in !hich he puts certain foibles Ithe more pleasant as they are oppose# to the recei"e# rules an# necessary restraints of societyJ an# #o not trouble oursel"es about the conseMuences resulting from them, for no mischie"ous conseMuences #o result$ Sir @ohn is ol# as !ell as fat, !hich gi"es a melancholy retrospecti"e tinge to the characterL an# by the #isparity bet!een his inclinations an# his capacity for enjoyment, makes it still more lu#icrous an# fantastical$ &he secret of ,alstaff's !it is for the most part a masterly

presence of min#, an absolute selfGpossession, !hich nothing can #isturb$ His repartees are in"oluntary suggestions of his selfGlo"eL instincti"e e"asions of e"erything that threatens to interrupt the career of his triumphant jollity an# selfGcomplacency$ His "ery size floats him out of all his #ifficulties in a sea of rich conceitsL an# he turns roun# on the pi"ot of his con"enience, !ith e"ery occasion an# at a moment's !arning$ His natural repugnance to e"ery unpleasant thought or circumstance of itself makes light of objections, an# pro"okes the most e/tra"agant an# licentious ans!ers in his o!n justification$ His in#ifference to truth puts no check upon his in"ention, an# the more improbable an# une/pecte# his contri"ances are, the more happily #oes he seem to be #eli"ere# of them, the anticipation of their effect acting as a stimulus to the gaiety of his fancy$ &he success of one a#"enturous sally gi"es him spirits to un#ertake another5 he #eals al!ays in roun# numbers, an# his e/aggerations an# e/cuses are 'open, palpable, monstrous as the father that begets them'$ His #issolute carelessness of !hat he says #isco"ers itself in the first #ialogue !ith the Prince$ ,alstaff$ %y the lor#, thou say'st true, la#L an# is not mine hostess of the ta"ern a most s!eet !enchN P$ Henry$ 6s the honey of Hibla, my ol# la# of the castleL an# is not a buffGjerkin a most s!eet robe of #uranceN ,alstaff$ Ho! no!, ho! no!, ma# !ag, !hat in thy Muips an# thy Mui##itiesN !hat a plague ha"e ) to #o !ith a buffGjerkinN P$ Henry$ Why, !hat a po/ ha"e ) to #o !ith mine hostess of the ta"ernN )n the same scene he after!ar#s affects melancholy, from pure satisfaction of heart, an# professes reform, because it is the farthest thing in the !orl# from his thoughts$ He has no Mualms of conscience, an# therefore !oul# as soon talk of them as of anything else !hen the humour takes him$ ,alstaff$ %ut Hal, ) pr'ythee trouble me no more !ith "anity$ ) !oul# to Go# thou an# ) kne! !here a commo#ity of goo# names !ere to be bought5 an ol# lor# of council rate# me the other #ay in the street about you, sirL but ) mark'# him not, an# yet he talke# "ery !isely, an# in the street too$ P$ Henry$ &hou #i#st !ell, for !is#om cries out in the street, an# no man regar#s it$ ,alstaff$ ?, thou hast #amnable iteration, an# art in#ee# able to corrupt a saint$ &hou hast #one much harm unto me, HalL Go# forgi"e thee for it$ %efore ) kne! thee, Hal, ) kne! nothing, an# no! ) am, if a man shoul# speak truly, little better than one of the !icke#$ ) must gi"e o"er this life, an# ) !ill gi"e it o"er, by the lor#L an ) #o not, ) am a "illain$ )'ll be #amn'# for ne"er a king's son in Christen#om, P$ Henry$ Where shall !e take a purse toGmorro!$ @ackN ,alstaff$ Where thou !ilt, la#, )'ll make oneL an ) #o not, call me

"illain, an# baffle me$ P$ Henry$ ) see goo# amen#ment of life in thee, from praying to purseGtaking$ ,alstaff$ Why, Hal, 'tis my "ocation, Hal$ '&is no sin for a man to labour in his "ocation$ ?f the other prominent passages, his account of his preten#e# resistance to the robbers, '!ho gre! from four men in buckram into ele"en' as the imagination of his o!n "alour increase# !ith his relating it, his getting off !hen the truth is #isco"ere# by preten#ing he kne! the Prince, the scene in !hich in the person of the ol# king he lectures the prince an# gi"es himself a goo# character, the soliloMuy on honour, an# #escription of his ne!G raise# recruits, his meeting !ith the chief justice, his abuse of the Prince an# Poins, !ho o"erhear him, to 'oll &earsheet, his reconciliation !ith Drs$ Fuickly !ho has arreste# him for an ol# #ebt an# !hom he persua#es to pa!n her plate to len# him ten poun#s more, an# the scenes !ith Shallo! an# Silence, are all inimitable$ ?f all of them, the scene in !hich ,alstaff plays the part, first, of the Cing, an# then of Prince Henry, is the one that has been the most often Muote#$ We must Muote it once more in illustration of our remarks$ ,alstaff$ Harry, ) #o not only mar"el !here thou spen#eth thy time, but also ho! thou art accompanie#5 for though the camomile, the more it is tro##en on, the faster it gro!s, yet youth, the more it is !aste#, the sooner it !ears$ &hat thou art my son, ) ha"e partly thy mother's !or#, partly my o!n opinionL but chiefly, a "illainous trick of thine eye, an# a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that #oth !arrant me$ )f then thou be son to me, here lies the pointLGG Why, being son to me, art thou so pointe# atN Shaft the blesse# sun of hea"en pro"e a micher, an# eat blackberriesN 6 Muestion not to be ask'#$ Shall the son of .nglan# pro"e a thief, an# take pursesN a Muestion not to be ask'#$ &here is a thing, Harry, !hich thou hast often hear# of, an# it is kno!n to many in our lan# by the name of pitch5 this pitch, as ancient !riters #o report, #oth #efileL so #oth the company thou keepest5 for, Harry, no! ) #o not speak to thee in #rink, but in tearsL not in pleasure, but in passionL not in !or#s only, but in !oes also5GGan# yet there is a "irtuous man, !hom ) ha"e often note# in thy company, but ) kno! not his name$ P$ Henry$ What manner of man, an it like your majestyN ,alstaff$ 6 goo#ly portly man, i'faith, an# a corpulentL of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, an# a most noble carriageL an#, as ) think, his age some fifty, or, by'rGla#y, inclining to threescoreL an# no! ) #o remember me, his name is ,alstaff5 if that man shoul# be le!#ly gi"en, he #ecei"eth meL for, Harry, ) see "irtue in his looks$ )f then the fruit may be kno!n by the tree, as the tree by the fruit, then peremptorily ) speak it, there is "irtue in that ,alstaff5 him keep !ith, the rest banish$ 6n# tell me no!, thou naughty "arlet, tell me, !here hast thou been this monthN P$ Henry$ 'ost thou speak like a kingN 'o thou stan# for me, an# )'ll play my father$

,alstaff$ 'epose meN if thou #ost it half so gra"ely, so majestically, both in !or# an# matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbitGsucker, or a poulterer's hare$ P$ Henry$ Well, here ) am set$ ,alstaff$ 6n# here ) stan#5GGju#ge, my masters$ P$ Henry$ Bo!, Harry, !hence come youN ,alstaff$ Dy noble lor#, from .astcheap$ P$ Henry$ &he complaints ) hear of thee are grie"ous$ ,alstaff$ S'bloo#, my lor#, they are false5GGnay, )'ll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith$ P$ Henry$ S!earest thou, ungracious boyN henceforth ne'er look on me$ &hou art "iolently carrie# a!ay from grace5 there is a #e"il haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat ol# manL a tun of man is thy companion$ Why #ost thou con"erse !ith that trunk of humours, that boltingGhutch of beastliness, that s!oln parcel of #ropsies, that huge bombar# of sack, that stuft cloakGbag of guts, that roaste# DanningGtree o/ !ith the pu##ing in his belly, that re"eren# "ice, that grey iniMuity, that father ruffian, that "anity in yearsN !herein is he goo#, but to taste sack an# #rink itN !herein neat an# cleanly, but to car"e a capon an# eat itN !herein cunning, but in craftN !herein crafty, but in "illainyN !herein "illainous, but in all thingsN !herein !orthy, but in nothingN ,alstaff$ ) !oul#, your grace !oul# take me !ith you5 !hom means your graceN P$ Henry$ &hat "illainous, abominable misGlea#er of youth, ,alstaff, that ol# !hiteGbear#e# Satan$ ,alstaff$ Dy lor#, the man ) kno!$ P$ Henry$ ) kno! thou #ost$ ,alstaff$ %ut to say, ) kno! more harm in him than in myself, !ere to say more than ) kno!$ &hat he is ol# Ithe more the pityJ his !hite hairs #o !itness it5 but that he is Isa"ing your re"erenceJ a !horeGmaster, that ) utterly #eny$ )f sack an# sugar be a fault, Go# help the !icke#4 if to be ol# an# merry be a sin, then many an ol# host that ) kno! is #amne#5 if to be fat be to be hate#, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be lo"e#$ Bo, my goo# lor#L banish Peto, banish %ar#olph, banish PoinsL but for s!eet @ack ,alstaff, kin# @ack ,alstaff, true @ack ,alstaff, "aliant @ack ,alstaff, an# therefore more "aliant, being as he is, ol# @ack ,alstaff, banish not him thy Harry's companyL banish plump @ack, an# banish all the !orl#$ P$ Henry$ ) #o, ) !ill$ :CnockingL an# Hostess an# %ar#olph go out$=

0eGenter %ar#olph, running$ %ar#olph$ ?, my lor#, my lor#L the sheriff, !ith a most monstrous !atch, is at the #oor$ ,alstaff$ ?ut, you rogue4 play out the play5 ) ha"e much to say in the behalf of that ,alstaff$ ?ne of the most characteristic #escriptions of Sir @ohn is that !hich Drs$ Fuickly gi"es of him !hen he asks her, 'What is the gross sum that ) o!e theeN' Hostess$ Darry, if thou !ert an honest man, thyself, an# the money too$ &hou #i#st s!ear to me upon a parcelGgilt goblet, sitting in my 'olphinGchamber, at the roun# table, by a seaGcoal fire on We#nes#ay in Whitsun!eek, !hen the prince broke thy hea# for likening his father to a singing man of Win#sorL thou #i#st s!ear to me then, as ) !as !ashing thy !oun#, to marry me, an# make me my la#y thy !ife$ Canst thou #eny itN 'i# not goo#!ife Ceech, the butcher's !ife, come in then, an# call me gossip FuicklyN coming in to borro! a mess of "inegarL telling us, she ha# a goo# #ish of pra!nsL !hereby thou #i#st #esire to eat someL !hereby ) tol# thee, they !ere ill for a green !oun#N 6n# #i#st thou not, !hen she !as gone #o!n stairs, #esire me to be no more so familiarity !ith such poor peopleL saying, that ere long they shoul# call me ma#amN 6n# #i#st thou not kiss me, an# bi# me fetch thee thirty shillingsN ) put thee no! to thy bookGoathL #eny it, if thou canst$ &his scene is to us the most con"incing proof of ,alstaff's po!er of gaining o"er the goo#!ill of those he !as familiar !ith, e/cept in#ee# %ar#olph's some!hat profane e/clamation on hearing the account of his #eath, 'Woul# ) !ere !ith him, !heresoe'er he is, !hether in hea"en or hell$' ?ne of the topics of e/ulting superiority o"er others most common in Sir @ohn's mouth is his corpulence an# the e/terior marks of goo# li"ing !hich he carries about him, thus 'turning his "ices into commo#ity'$ He accounts for the frien#ship bet!een the Prince an# Poins, from 'their legs being both of a bigness'L an# compares @ustice Shallo! to 'a man ma#e after supper of a cheeseGparing'$ &here cannot be a more striking gra#ation of character than that bet!een ,alstaff an# Shallo!, an# Shallo! an# Silence$ )t seems #ifficult at first to fall lo!er than the sMuireL but this fool, great as he is, fin#s an a#mirer an# humble foil in his cousin Silence$ -ain of his acMuaintance !ith Sir @ohn, !ho makes a butt of him, he e/claims, 'Woul#, cousin Silence, that thou ha#'st seen that !hich this knight an# ) ha"e seen4'GG'6ye, Daster Shallo!, !e ha"e hear# the chimes at mi#night,' says Sir @ohn$ &o ,alstaff's obser"ation, ') #i# not think Daster Silence ha# been a man of this mettle', Silence ans!ers, 'Who, )N ) ha"e been merry t!ice an# once ere no!$' What an i#ea is here con"eye# of a pro#igality of li"ingN What goo# husban#ry an# economical selfG#enial in his pleasuresN What a stock of li"ely recollectionsN )t is curious that Shakespeare has ri#icule# in @ustice Shallo!, !ho !as 'in some authority un#er the king', that #isposition to unmeaning tautology !hich is the regal infirmity of later times, an# !hich, it may be suppose#, he

acMuire# from talking to his cousin Silence, an# recei"ing no ans!ers$ ,alstaff$ *ou ha"e here a goo#ly #!elling, an# a rich$ Shallo!$ %arren, barren, barrenL beggars all, beggars all, Sir @ohn5 marry, goo# air$ Sprea# 'a"y, sprea# 'a"y$ Well sai#, 'a"y$ ,alstaff$ &his 'a"y ser"es you for goo# uses$ Shallo!$ 6 goo# "arlet, a goo# "arlet, a "ery goo# "arlet$ %y the mass, ) ha"e #rank too much sack at supper$ 6 goo# "arlet$ Bo! sit #o!n, no! sit #o!n$ Come, cousin$ &he true spirit of humanity, the thorough kno!le#ge of the stuff !e are ma#e of, the practical !is#om !ith the seeming fooleries in the !hole of the gar#enGscene at Shallo!'s countryGseat, an# just before in the e/Muisite #ialogue bet!een him an# Silence on the #eath of ol# 'ouble, ha"e no parallel any!here else$ )n one point of "ie!, they are laughable in the e/tremeL in another they are eMually affecting, if it is affecting to sho! !hat a little thing is human life, !hat a poor forke# creature man is4 &he heroic an# serious part of these t!o plays foun#e# on the story of Henry )- is not inferior to the comic an# farcical$ &he characters of Hotspur an# Prince Henry are t!o of the most beautiful an# #ramatic, both in themsel"es an# from contrast, that e"er !ere #ra!n$ &hey are the essence of chi"alry$ We like Hotspur the best upon the !hole, perhaps because he !as unfortunate$GG&he characters of their fathers, Henry )- an# ol# Borthumberlan#, are kept up eMually !ell$ Henry naturally succee#s by his pru#ence an# caution in keeping !hat he has gotL Borthumberlan# fails in his enterprise from an e/cess of the same Muality, an# is caught in the !eb of his o!n col#, #ilatory policy$ ?!en Glen#o!er is a masterly character$ )t is as bol# an# original as it is intelligible an# thoroughly natural$ &he #isputes bet!een him an# Hotspur are manage# !ith infinite a##ress an# insight into nature$ We cannot help pointing out here some "ery beautiful lines, !here Hotspur #escribes the fight bet!een Glen#o!er an# Dortimer$ GGWhen on the gentle Se"ern's se#gy bank, )n single opposition han# to han#, He #i# confoun# the best part of an hour )n changing har#iment !ith great Glen#o!er5 &hree times they breath'#, an# three times #i# they #rink, Apon agreement, of s!ift Se"ern's floo#L Who then affrighte# !ith their bloo#y looks, 0an fearfully among the trembling ree#s, 6n# hi# his crisp hea# in the hollo! bank, %loo#Gstaine# !ith these "aliant combatants$ &he peculiarity an# the e/cellence of Shakespeare's poetry is, that it seems as if he ma#e his imagination the han#Gmai# of nature, an# nature the plaything of his imagination$ He appears to ha"e been all the characters, an# in all the situations he #escribes$ )t is as if either he ha# ha# all their feelings, or ha# lent them all his genius to e/press themsel"es$ &here cannot be stronger instances of

this than Hotspur's rage !hen Henry )- forbi#s him to speak of Dortimer, his insensibility to all that his father an# uncle urge to calm him, an# his fine abstracte# apostrophe to honour, '%y hea"en methinks it !ere an easy leap to pluck bright honour from the moon,' Oc$ 6fter all, not!ithstan#ing the gallantry, generosity, goo# temper, an# i#le freaks of the ma#Gcap Prince of Wales, !e shoul# not ha"e been sorry if Borthumberlan#'s force ha# come up in time to #eci#e the fate of the battle at Shre!sburyL at least, !e al!ays heartily sympathize !ith >a#y Percy's grief !hen she e/claims5 Ha# my s!eet Harry ha# but half their numbers, &oG#ay might ) Ihanging on Hotspur's neckJ Ha"e talke# of Donmouth's gra"e$ &he truth is, that !e ne"er coul# forgi"e the Prince's treatment of ,alstaffL though perhaps Shakespeare kne! !hat !as best, accor#ing to the history, the nature of the times, an# of the man$ We speak only as #ramatic critics$ Whate"er terror the ,rench in those #ays might ha"e of Henry -, yet to the rea#ers of poetry at present, ,alstaff is the better man of the t!o$ We think of him an# Muote him oftener$

H.B0* Henry - is a "ery fa"ourite monarch !ith the .nglish nation, an# he appears to ha"e been also a fa"ourite !ith Shakespeare, !ho labours har# to apologize for the actions of the king, by sho!ing us the character of the man, as 'the king of goo# fello!s'$ He scarcely #eser"es this honour$ He !as fon# of !ar an# lo! company5GG!e kno! little else of him$ He !as careless, #issolute, an# ambitiousGGi#le, or #oing mischief$ )n pri"ate, he seeme# to ha"e no i#ea of the common #ecencies of life, !hich he subjecte# to a kin# of regal licenseL in public affairs, he seeme# to ha"e no i#ea of any rule of right or !rong, but brute force, glosse# o"er !ith a little religious hypocrisy an# archiepiscopal a#"ice$ His principles #i# not change !ith his situation an# professions$ His a#"enture on Ga#shill !as a prelu#e to the affair of 6gincourt, only a bloo#less oneL ,alstaff !as a puny prompter of "iolence an# outrage, compare# !ith the pious an# politic 6rchbishop of Canterbury, !ho ga"e the king carte blanche, in a genealogical tree of his family, to rob an# mur#er in circles of latitu#e an# longitu#e abroa#GGto sa"e the possessions of the Church at home$ &his appears in the speeches in Shakespeare, !here the hi##en moti"es that actuate princes an# their a#"isers in !ar an# policy are better lai# open than in speeches from the throne or !oolsack$ Henry, because he #i# not kno! ho! to go"ern his o!n king#om, #etermine# to make !ar upon his neighbours$ %ecause his o!n title to the cro!n !as #oubtful, he lai# claim to that of ,rance$ %ecause he #i# not kno! ho! to e/ercise the enormous po!er, !hich ha# just #roppe# into his han#s, to any one goo# purpose, he imme#iately un#ertook Ia cheap an# ob"ious resource of so"ereigntyJ to #o all the mischief he coul#$ ."en if absolute monarchs ha# the !it to fin# out objects of lau#able ambition, they

coul# only 'plume up their !ills' in a#hering to the more sacre# formula of the royal prerogati"e, 'the right #i"ine of kings to go"ern !rong', because !ill is only then triumphant !hen it is oppose# to the !ill of others, because the pri#e of po!er is only then sho!n, not !hen it consults the rights an# interests of others, but !hen it insults an# tramples on all justice an# all humanity$ Henry #eclares his resolution '!hen ,rance is his, to ben# it to his a!e, or break it all to pieces'GGa resolution !orthy of a conMueror, to #estroy all that he cannot ensla"eL an# !hat a##s to the joke, he lays all the blame of the conseMuences of his ambition on those !ho !ill not submit tamely to his tyranny$ Such is the history of kingly po!er, from the beginning to the en# of the !orl#GG!ith this #ifference, that the object of !ar formerly, !hen the people a#here# to their allegiance, !as to #epose kingsL the object latterly, since the people s!er"e# from their allegiance, has been to restore kings, an# to make common cause against mankin#$ &he object of our late in"asion an# conMuest of ,rance !as to restore the legitimate monarch, the #escen#ant of Hugh Capet, to the throne5 Henry - in his time ma#e !ar on an# #epose# the #escen#ant of this "ery Hugh Capet, on the plea that he !as a usurper an# illegitimate$ What !oul# the great mo#ern catspa! of legitimacy an# restorer of #i"ine right ha"e sai# to the claim of Henry an# the title of the #escen#ants of Hugh CapetN Henry -, it is true, !as a hero, a king of .nglan#, an# the conMueror of the king of ,rance$ *et !e feel little lo"e or a#miration for him$ He !as a hero, that is, he !as rea#y to sacrifice his o!n life for the pleasure of #estroying thousan#s of other li"es5 he !as a king of .nglan#, but not a constitutional one, an# !e only like kings accor#ing to the la!L lastly, he !as a conMueror of the ,rench king, an# for this !e #islike him less than if he ha# conMuere# the ,rench people$ Ho! then #o !e like himN We like him in the play$ &here he is a "ery amiable monster, a "ery splen#i# pageant$ 6s !e like to gaze at a panther or a young lion in their cages in the &o!er, an# catch a pleasing horror from their glistening eyes, their "el"et pa!s, an# #rea#less roar, so !e take a "ery romantic, heroic, patriotic, an# poetical #elight in the boasts an# feats of our younger Harry, as they appear on the stage an# are confine# to lines of ten syllablesL !here no bloo# follo!s the stroke that !oun#s our ears, !here no har"est ben#s beneath horses' hoofs, no city flames, no little chil# is butchere#, no #ea# men's bo#ies are foun# pile# on heaps an# festering the ne/t morningGGin the orchestra4 So much for the politics of this playL no! for the poetry$ Perhaps one of the most striking images in all Shakespeare is that gi"en of !ar in the first lines of the Prologue$ ? for a muse of fire, that !oul# ascen# &he brightest hea"en of in"ention, 6 king#om for a stage, princes to act, 6n# monarchs to behol# the s!elling scene4 &hen shoul# the !arlike Harry, like himself, 6ssume the port of Dars, an# 6& H)S H..>S >.6SH'' )B >)C. H?AB'S, SH?A>' ,6D)B., SW?0', 6B' ,)0. C0?ACH ,?0 .DP>?*D.B&$ 0ubens, if he ha# painte# it, !oul# not ha"e impro"e# upon this simile$ &he con"ersation bet!een the 6rchbishop of Canterbury an#

the %ishop of .ly relating to the su##en change in the manners of Henry - is among the !ellGkno!n %.6A&).S of Shakespeare$ )t is in#ee# a#mirable both for strength an# grace$ )t has sometimes occurre# to us that Shakespeare, in #escribing 'the reformation' of the Prince, might ha"e ha# an eye to himselfGG Which is a !on#er ho! his grace shoul# glean it, Since his a##iction !as to courses "ain, His companies unletter'#, ru#e an# shallo!, His hours fill'# up !ith riots, banMuets, sportsL 6n# ne"er note# in him any stu#y, 6ny retirement, any seMuestration ,rom open haunts an# popularity$ .ly$ &he stra!berry gro!s un#erneath the nettle, 6n# !holesome berries thri"e an# ripen best Beighbour'# by fruit of baser Muality5 6n# so the prince obscur'# his contemplation An#er the "eil of !il#ness, !hich no #oubt Gre! like the summerGgrass, fastest by night, Anseen, yet cresci"e in his faculty$ &his at least is as probable an account of the progress of the poet's min# as !e ha"e met !ith in any of the .ssays on the >earning of Shakespeare$ Bothing can be better manage# than the caution !hich the king gi"es the me##ling 6rchbishop, not to a#"ise him rashly to engage in the !ar !ith ,rance, his scrupulous #rea# of the conseMuences of that a#"ice, an# his eager #esire to hear an# follo! it$ 6n# Go# forbi#, my #ear an# faithful lor#, &hat you shoul# fashion, !rest, or bo! your rea#ing, ?r nicely charge your un#erstan#ing soul With opening titles miscreate, !hose right Suits not in nati"e colours !ith the truth$ ,or Go# #oth kno! ho! many no! in health Shall #rop their bloo#, in approbation ?f !hat your re"erence shall incite us to$ &herefore take hee# ho! you impa!n your person, Ho! you a!ake our sleeping s!or# of !arL We charge you in the name of Go#, take hee#$ ,or ne"er t!o such king#oms #i# conten# Without much fall of bloo#, !hose guiltless #rops 6re e"ery one a !oe, a sore complaint 'Gainst him, !hose !rong gi"es e#ge unto the s!or#s &hat make such !aste in brief mortality$ An#er this conjuration, speak, my lor#L ,or !e !ill hear, note, an# belie"e in heart, &hat !hat you speak, is in your conscience !ash'#, 6s pure as sin !ith baptism$ 6nother characteristic instance of the blin#ness of human nature to e"erything but its o!n interests is the complaint ma#e by the king of 'the ill neighbourhoo#' of the Scot in attacking .nglan# !hen she !as attacking ,rance$

,or once the eagle .nglan# being in prey, &o her unguar#e# nest the !eazel Scot Comes sneaking, an# so sucks her princely eggs$ )t is !orth obser"ing that in all these plays, !hich gi"e an a#mirable picture of the spirit of the goo# ol# times, the moral inference #oes not at all #epen# upon the nature of the actions, but on the #ignity or meanness of the persons committing them$ '&he eagle .nglan#' has a right 'to be in prey', but 'the !eazel Scot' has none 'to come sneaking to her nest', !hich she has left to pounce upon others$ Dight !as right, !ithout eMui"ocation or #isguise, in that heroic an# chi"alrous age$ &he substitution of right for might, e"en in theory, is among the refinements an# abuses of mo#ern philosophy$ 6 more beautiful rhetorical #elineation of the effects of subor#ination in a common!ealth can har#ly be concei"e# than the follo!ing5 ,or go"ernment, though high an# lo! an# lo!er, Put into parts, #oth keep in one consent, Congruing in a full an# natural close, >ike music$ GG&herefore hea"en #oth #i"i#e &he state of man in #i"ers functions, Setting en#ea"our in continual motionL &o !hich is fi/e#, as an aim or butt, ?be#ienceL for so !ork the honey beesL Creatures that by a rule in nature, teach &he art of or#er to a people# king#om$ &hey ha"e a king, an# officers of sorts5 Where some, like magistrates, correct at homeL ?thers, like merchants, "enture tra#e abroa#L ?thers, like sol#iers, arme# in their stings, Dake boot upon the summer's "el"et bu#sL Which pillage they !ith merry march bring home &o the tentGroyal of their emperorL Who, busie# in his majesty, sur"eys &he singing mason buil#ing roofs of gol#L &he ci"il citizens knea#ing up the honeyL &he poor mechanic porters cro!#ing in &heir hea"y burthens at his narro! gateL &he sa#Geye# justice, !ith his surly hum, 'eli"ering o'er to e/ecutors pale &he lazy ya!ning #rone$ ) this infer,GG &hat many things, ha"ing full reference &o one consent, may !ork contrariously5 6s many arro!s, loose# se"eral !ays, ,ly to one markL 6s many se"eral !ays meet in one to!nL 6s many fresh streams meet in one salt seaL 6s many lines close in the #ial's centreL So may a thousan# actions, once aGfoot, .n# in one purpose, an# be all !ell borne Without #efeat$

H.B0* - is but one of Shakespeare's secon#Grate plays$ *et by Muoting passages, like this, from his secon#Grate plays alone, !e might make a "olume 'rich !ith his praise', 6s is the oozy bottom of the sea With sunken !rack an# sumless treasuries$ ?f this sort are the king's remonstrance to Scroop, Grey, an# Cambri#ge, on the #etection of their treason, his a##ress to the sol#iers at the siege of Harfleur, an# the still finer one before the battle of 6gincourt, the #escription of the night before the battle, an# the reflections on ceremony put into the mouth of the king$ ? har# con#itionL t!inGborn !ith greatness, Subjecte# to the breath of e"ery fool, Whose sense no more can feel but his o!n !ringing4 What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect, &hat pri"ate men enjoyN an# !hat ha"e kings, &hat pri"ates ha"e not too, sa"e ceremonyN Sa"e general ceremonyN 6n# !hat art thou, thou i#ol ceremonyN What kin# of go# art thou, that suffer'st more ?f mortal griefs, than #o thy !orshippersN What are thy rentsN !hat are thy comingsGinN ? ceremony, sho! me but thy !orth4 What is thy soul, ? a#orationN 6rt thou aught else but place, #egree, an# form, Creating a!e an# fear in other menN Wherein thou art less happy, being feare#, &han they in fearing$ What #rink'st thou oft, instea# of homage s!eet, %ut poison'# flatteryN ?, be sick, great greatness, 6n# bi# thy ceremony gi"e thee cure4 &hink'st thou, the fiery fe"er !ill go out With titles blo!n from a#ulationN Will it gi"e place to fle/ure an# lo! ben#ingN Can'st thou, !hen thou comman#'st the beggar's knee, Comman# the health of itN Bo, thou prou# #ream, &hat play'st so subtly !ith a king's repose, ) am a king, that fin# thee5 an# ) kno!, '&is not the balm, the sceptre, an# the ball, &he s!or#, the mace, the cro!n imperial, &he enterGtissu'# robe of gol# an# pearl, &he farse# title running 'fore the king, &he throne he sits on, nor the ti#e of pomp &hat beats upon the high shore of this !orl#, Bo, not all these, thriceGgorgeous ceremony, Bot all these, lai# in be# majestical, Can sleep so soun#ly as the !retche# sla"eL Who, !ith a bo#y fili'#, an# "acant min#, Gets him to rest, cramm'# !ith #istressful brea#, Be"er sees horri# night, the chil# of hell5 %ut, like a lacMuey, from the rise to set, S!eats in the eye of Phoebus, an# all night Sleeps in .lysiumL ne/t #ay, after #a!n, 'oth rise, an# help Hyperion to his horseL

6n# follo!s so the e"erGrunning year With profitable labour, to his gra"e5 6n#, but for ceremony, such a !retch, Win#ing up #ays !ith toil, an# nights !ith sleep, Has the forehan# an# "antage of a king$ &he sla"e, a member of the country's peace, .njoys itL but in gross brain little !ots, What !atch the king keeps to maintain the peace, Whose hours the peasant best a#"antages$ Dost of these passages are !ell kno!n5 there is one, !hich !e #o not remember to ha"e seen notice#, an# yet it is no !hit inferior to the rest in heroic beauty$ )t is the account of the #eaths of *ork an# Suffolk$ ./eter$ &he #uke of *ork commen#s him to your majesty$ C$ Henry$ >i"es he, goo# uncleN thrice !ithin this hour, ) sa! him #o!nL thrice up again, an# fightingL ,rom helmet to the spur all bloo# he !as$ ./eter$ )n !hich array Ibra"e sol#ierJ #oth he lie, >ar#ing the plainL an# by his bloo#y si#e I*okeGfello! to his honourGo!ing !oun#sJ &he noble earl of Suffolk also lies$ Suffolk first #ie#5 an# *ork, all haggle# o'er, Comes to him, !here in gore he lay insteep'#, 6n# takes him by the bear#L kisses the gashes, &hat bloo#ily #i# ya!n upon his faceL 6n# cries alou#GG&arry, #ear cousin Suffolk4 Dy soul shall thine keep company to hea"en5 &arry, s!eet soul, for mine, then fly aGbreastL 6s, in this glorious an# !ellGfoughten fiel#, We kept together in our chi"alry4 Apon these !or#s ) came, an# cheer'# him up5 He smil'# me in the face, raught me his han#, 6n#, !ith a feeble gripe, saysGG'ear my lor#, Commen# my ser"ice to my so"ereign$ So #i# he turn, an# o"er Suffolk's neck He thre! his !oun#e# arm, an# kiss'# his lipsL 6n# so, espous'# to #eath, !ith bloo# he seal'# 6 testament of nobleGen#ing lo"e$ %ut !e must ha"e #one !ith splen#i# Muotations$ &he beha"iour of the king, in the #ifficult an# #oubtful circumstances in !hich he is place#, is as patient an# mo#est as it is spirite# an# lofty in his prosperous fortune$ &he character of the ,rench nobles is also "ery a#mirably #epicte#L an# the 'auphin's praise of his horse sho!s the "anity of that class of persons in a "ery striking point of "ie!$ Shakespeare al!ays accompanies a foolish prince !ith a satirical courtier, as !e see in this instance$ &he comic parts of H.B0* - are "ery inferior to those of H.B0* )-$ ,alstaff is #ea#, an# !ithout him$ Pistol, Bym, an# %ar#olph are satellites !ithout a sun$ ,luellen the Welshman is the most entertaining character in the piece$ He is goo#Gnature#, bra"e, choleric, an# pe#antic$ His parallel bet!een 6le/an#er an# Harry of Donmouth, an# his #esire to

ha"e 'some #isputations' !ith Captain Dacmorris on the #iscipline of the 0oman !ars, in the heat of the battle, are ne"er to be forgotten$ His treatment of Pistol is as goo# as Pistol's treatment of his ,rench prisoner$ &here are t!o other remarkable prose passages in this play5 the con"ersation of Henry in #isguise !ith the three sentinels on the #uties of a sol#ier, an# his courtship of Catherine in broken ,rench$ We like them both e/cee#ingly, though the first sa"ours perhaps too much of the king, an# the last too little of the lo"er$

H.B0* -) )B &H0.. P60&S 'uring the time of the ci"il !ars of *ork an# >ancaster, .nglan# !as a perfect bearGgar#en, an# Shakespeare has gi"en us a "ery li"ely picture of the scene$ &he three parts of H.B0* -) con"ey a picture of "ery little elseL an# are inferior to the other historical plays$ &hey ha"e brilliant passagesL but the general groun#G!ork is comparati"ely poor an# meagre, the style 'flat an# unraise#'$ &here are fe! lines like the follo!ing5 Glory is like a circle in the !aterL Which ne"er ceaseth to enlarge itself, &ill by broa# sprea#ing it #isperse to naught$ &he first part relates to the !ars in ,rance after the #eath of Henry - an# the story of the Dai# of ?rleans$ She is here almost as scur"ily treate# as in -oltaire's Pucelle$ &albot is a "ery magnificent sketch5 there is something as formi#able in this portrait of him, as there !oul# be in a monumental figure of him or in the sight of the armour !hich he !ore$ &he scene in !hich he "isits the Countess of 6u"ergne, !ho seeks to entrap him, is a "ery spirite# one, an# his #escription of his o!n treatment !hile a prisoner to the ,rench not less remarkable$ Salisbury$ *et tell'st thou not ho! thou !ert entertain'#$ &albot$ With scoffs an# scorns, an# contumelious taunts, )n open marketGplace pro#uce# they me, &o be a public spectacle to all$ Here, sai# they, is the terror of the ,rench, &he scarecro! that affrights our chil#ren so$ &hen broke ) from the officers that le# me, 6n# !ith my nails #igg'# stones out of the groun#, &o hurl at the behol#ers of my shame$ Dy grisly countenance ma#e others fly, Bone #urst come near for fear of su##en #eath$ )n iron !alls they #eem'# me not secure5 So great a fear my name amongst them sprea#, &hat they suppos'# ) coul# ren# bars of steel,

6n# spurn in pieces posts of a#amant$ Wherefore a guar# of chosen shot ) ha#5 &hey !alk'# about me e"ery minuteG!hileL 6n# if ) #i# but stir out of my be#, 0ea#y they !ere to shoot me to the heart$ &he secon# part relates chiefly to the contests bet!een the nobles #uring the minority of Henry an# the #eath of Gloucester, the goo# 'uke Humphrey$ &he character of Car#inal %eaufort is the most prominent in the group5 the account of his #eath is one of our author's masterpieces$ So is the speech of Gloucester to the nobles on the loss of the pro"inces of ,rance by the king's marriage !ith Dargaret of 6njou$ &he pretensions an# gro!ing ambition of the 'uke of *ork, the father of 0ichar# ))), are also "ery ably #e"elope#$ 6mong the episo#es, the tragiGcome#y of @ack Ca#e, an# the #etection of the impostor Simco/ are truly e#ifying$ &he thir# part #escribes Henry's loss of his cro!n5 his #eath takes place in the last act, !hich is usually thrust into the common acting play of 0)CH60' )))$ &he character of Gloucester, after!ar#s Cing 0ichar#, is here "ery po!erfully commence#, an# his #angerous #esigns an# longGreaching ambition are fully #escribe# in his soliloMuy in the thir# act, beginning, '6ye, .#!ar# !ill use !omen honourably$' Henry -) is #ra!n as #istinctly as his highGspirite# Fueen, an# not!ithstan#ing the "ery mean figure !hich Henry makes as a king, !e still feel more respect for him than for his !ife$ We ha"e alrea#y obser"e# that Shakespeare !as scarcely more remarkable for the force an# marke# contrasts of his characters than for the truth an# subtlety !ith !hich he has #istinguishe# those !hich approache# the nearest to each other$ ,or instance, the soul of ?thello is har#ly more #istinct from that of )ago than that of 'es#emona is sho!n to be from 6emilia'sL the ambition of Dacbeth is as #istinct from the ambition of 0ichar# ))) as it is from the meekness of 'uncanL the real ma#ness of >ear is as #ifferent from the feigne# ma#ness of .#gar :,ootnote5 &here is another instance of the name #istinction in Hamlet an# ?phelia$ Hamlet's preten#e# ma#ness !oul# make a "ery goo# real ma#ness in any other author$= as from the babbling of the foolL the contrast bet!een !it an# folly in ,alstaff an# Shallo! is not more characteristic though more ob"ious than the gra#ations of folly, loMuacious or reser"e#, in Shallo! an# SilenceL an# again, the gallantry of Prince Henry is as little confoun#e# !ith that of Hotspur as !ith the co!ar#ice of ,alstaff, or as the sensual an# philosophic co!ar#ice of the Cnight is !ith the pitiful an# cringing co!ar#ice of Parolles$ 6ll these se"eral personages !ere as #ifferent in Shakespeare as they !oul# ha"e been in themsel"es5 his imagination borro!e# from the life, an# e"ery circumstance, object, moti"e, passion, operate# there as it !oul# in reality, an# pro#uce# a !orl# of men an# !omen as #istinct, as true an# as "arious as those that e/ist in nature$ &he peculiar property of Shakespeare's imagination !as this truth, accompanie# !ith the unconsciousness of nature5 in#ee#, imagination to be perfect must be unconscious, at least in pro#uctionL for nature is so$ We shall attempt one e/ample more in the characters of 0ichar# )) an# Henry -)$ &he characters an# situations of both these persons !ere so nearly

alike, that they !oul# ha"e been completely confoun#e# by a commonplace poet$ *et they are kept Muite #istinct in Shakespeare$ %oth !ere kings, an# both unfortunate$ %oth lost their cro!ns o!ing to their mismanagement an# imbecilityL the one from a thoughtless, !ilful abuse of po!er, the other from an in#ifference to it$ &he manner in !hich they bear their misfortunes correspon#s e/actly to the causes !hich le# to them$ &he one is al!ays lamenting the loss of his po!er !hich he has not the spirit to regainL the other seems only to regret that he ha# e"er been king, an# is gla# to be ri# of the po!er, !ith the troubleL the effeminacy of the one is that of a "oluptuary, prou#, re"engeful, impatient of contra#iction, an# inconsolable in his misfortunesL the effeminacy of the other is that of an in#olent, goo#Gnature# min#, naturally a"erse to the turmoils of ambition an# the cares of greatness, an# !ho !ishes to pass his time in monkish in#olence an# contemplation$GG0ichar# be!ails the loss of the kingly po!er only as it !as the means of gratifying his pri#e an# lu/uryL Henry regar#s it only as a means of #oing right, an# is less #esirous of the a#"antages to be #eri"e# from possessing it than afrai# of e/ercising it !rong$ )n knighting a young sol#ier, he gi"es him ghostly a#"iceGG .#!ar# Plantagenet, arise a knight, 6n# learn this lesson, #ra! thy s!or# in right$ 0ichar# )) in the first speeches of the play betrays his real character$ )n the first alarm of his pri#e, on hearing of %olingbroke's rebellion, before his presumption has met !ith any check, he e/claims5 Dock not my senseless conjuration, lor#s5 &his earth shall ha"e a feeling, an# these stones Pro"e arme# sol#iers, ere her nati"e king Shall falter un#er prou# rebellious arms$ $ $ $ $ $ Bot all the !ater in the rough ru#e sea Can !ash the balm from an anointe# kingL &he breath of !orl#ly man cannot #epose &he 'eputy electe# by the >or#$ ,or e"ery man that %olingbroke hath prest, &o lift sharp steel against our gol#en cro!n, Hea"en for his 0ichar# hath in hea"enly pay 6 glorious angelL then if angels fight, Weak men must fallL for Hea"en still guar#s the right$ *et, not!ithstan#ing this royal confession of faith, on the "ery first ne!s of actual #isaster, all his conceit of himself as the peculiar fa"ourite of Pro"i#ence "anishes into air$ %ut 'i# 6ll ,or no! the bloo# of t!enty thousan# men triumph in my face, an# they are fle#$ souls that !ill be safe fly from my si#eL time hath set a blot upon my pri#e$

)mme#iately after, ho!e"er, recollecting that 'cheap #efence' of the #i"inity of kings !hich is to be foun# in opinion, he is for arming his name against his enemies$

6!ake, thou co!ar# Dajesty, thou sleep'stL )s not the Cing's name forty thousan# namesN 6rm, arm, my name5 a puny subject strikes 6t thy great glory$ Cing Henry #oes not make any such "apouring resistance to the loss of his cro!n, but lets it slip from off his hea# as a !eight !hich he is neither able nor !illing to bearL stan#s Muietly by to see the issue of the contest for his king#om, as if it !ere a game at pushG pin, an# is please# !hen the o##s pro"e against him$ When 0ichar# first hears of the #eath of his fa"ourites, %ushy, %agot, an# the rest, he in#ignantly rejects all i#ea of any further efforts, an# only in#ulges in the e/tra"agant impatience of his grief an# his #espair, in that fine speech !hich has been so often Muote#5 6umerle$ Where is the #uke my father, !ith his po!erN C$ 0ichar#$ Bo matter !here5 of comfort no man speak5 >et's talk of gra"es, of !orms, an# epitaphs, Dake #ust our paper, an# !ith rainy eyes Write sorro! in the bosom of the earth4 >et's choose e/ecutors, an# talk of !ills5 6n# yet not soGGfor !hat can !e beMueath, Sa"e our #epose# bo#ies to the groun#N ?ur lan#s, our li"es, an# all are %olingbroke's, 6n# nothing can !e call our o!n but #eath, 6n# that small mo#el of the barren earth, Which ser"es as paste an# co"er to our bones$ ,or hea"en's sake let us sit upon the groun#, 6n# tell sa# stories of the #eath of Cings5 Ho! some ha"e been #epos'#, some slain in !arL Some haunte# by the ghosts they #ispossess'#L Some poison'# by their !i"es, some sleeping kili'#L 6ll mur#er'#5GGfor !ithin the hollo! cro!n, &hat roun#s the mortal temples of a king, Ceeps #eath his court5 an# there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, an# grinning at his pomp4 6llo!ing him a breath, a little scene &o monarchize, be fear'#, an# kill !ith looksL )nfusing him !ith self an# "ain conceitGG 6s if this flesh, !hich !alls about our life, Were brass impregnableL an#, humour'# thus, Comes at the last, an#, !ith a little pin, %ores through his castle !all, an#GGfare!ell king4 Co"er your hea#s, an# mock not flesh an# bloo# With solemn re"erenceL thro! a!ay respect, &ra#ition, form, an# ceremonious #uty, ,or you ha"e but mistook me all this !hile5 ) li"e on brea# like you, feel !ant, taste grief, Bee# frien#s, like youL subjecte# thus, Ho! can you say to me ) am a kingN &here is as little sincerity after!ar#s in his affecte# resignation to his fate, as there is fortitu#e in this e/aggerate# picture of his misfortunes before they ha"e happene#$

When Borthumberlan# comes back !ith the message from %olingbroke, he e/claims, anticipating the result,GG What must the king #o no!N Dust he submitN &he king shall #o it5 must he be #epos'#N &he king shall be contente#5 must he lose &he name of kingN ?' Go#'s name let it go$ )'ll gi"e my je!els for a set of bea#s, Dy gorgeous palace for a hermitage, Dy gay apparel for an almsman's go!n, Dy figur'# goblets for a #ish of !oo#, Dy sceptre for a palmer's !alking staff, Dy subjects for a pair of car"e# saints, 6n# my large king#om for a little gra"eGG 6 little, little gra"e, an obscure gra"e$ Ho! #ifferently is all this e/presse# in Cing Henry's soliloMuy, #uring the battle !ith .#!ar#'s party5 &his battle fares like to the morning's !ar, When #ying clou#s conten# !ith gro!ing light, What time the shepher# blo!ing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect #ay or night$ Here on this moleGhill !ill ) sit me #o!nL &o !hom Go# !ill, there be the "ictory4 ,or Dargaret my Fueen, an# Cliffor# too, Ha"e chi# me from the battleL s!earing both &hey prosper best of all !hen ) am thence$ Woul# ) !ere #ea#, if Go#'s goo# !ill !ere so$ ,or !hat is in this !orl# but grief an# !oeN ? Go#4 methinks it !ere a happy life &o be no better than a homely s!ain, &o sit upon a hill as ) #o no!, &o car"e out #ials Muaintly, point by point, &hereby to see the minutes ho! they run5 Ho! many make the hour full complete, Ho! many hours bring about the #ay, Ho! many #ays !ill finish up the year, Ho! many years a mortal man may li"e$ When this is kno!n, then to #i"i#e the times5 So many hours must ) ten# my flock, So many hours must ) take my rest, So many hours must ) contemplate, So many hours must ) sport myselfL So many #ays my e!es ha"e been !ith young, So many !eeks ere the poor fools !ill yean, So many months ere ) shall shear the fleece5 So many minutes, hours, !eeks, months, an# years Past o"er, to the en# they !ere create#, Woul# bring !hite hairs unto a Muiet gra"e$ 6h4 !hat a life !ere this4 ho! s!eet, ho! lo"ely4 Gi"es not the ha!thorn bush a s!eeter sha#e &o shepher#s looking on their silly sheep, &han #oth a rich embroi#ere# canopy &o kings that fear their subjects' treacheryN ? yes it #oth, a thousan#Gfol# it #oth$

6n# to conclu#e, the shepher#s' homely cur#s, His col# thin #rink out of his leather bottle, His !onte# sleep un#er a fresh tree's sha#e, 6ll !hich secure an# s!eetly he enjoys, )s far beyon# a prince's #elicates, His "ian#s sparkling in a gol#en cup, His bo#y couche# in a curious be#, When care, mistrust, an# treasons !ait on him$ &his is a true an# beautiful #escription of a naturally Muiet an# contente# #isposition, an# not, like the former, the splenetic effusion of #isappointe# ambition$ )n the last scene of 0)CH60' )) his #espair len#s him courage5 he beats the keeper, slays t!o of his assassins, an# #ies !ith imprecations in his mouth against Sir Pierce ./ton, !ho 'ha# staggere# his royal person'$ Henry, !hen he is seize# by the #eerG stealers, only rea#s them a moral lecture on the #uty of allegiance an# the sanctity of an oathL an# !hen stabbe# by Gloucester in the &o!er, reproaches him !ith his crimes, but par#ons him his o!n #eath$

0)CH60' ))) 0)CH60' ))) may be consi#ere# as properly a stageplay5 it belongs to the theatre, rather than to the closet$ We shall therefore criticize it chiefly !ith a reference to the manner in !hich !e ha"e seen it performe#$ )t is the character in !hich Garrick came out5 it !as the secon# character in !hich Dr$ Cean appeare#, an# in !hich he acMuire# his fame$ Shakespeare !e ha"e al!ays !ith us5 actors !e ha"e only for a fe! seasonsL an# therefore some account of them may be acceptable, if not to our cotemporaries, to those !ho come after us, if 'that rich an# i#le personage, Posterity', shoul# #eign to look into our !ritings$ )t is possible to form a higher conception of the character of 0ichar# than that gi"en by Dr$ Cean5 but !e cannot imagine any character represente# !ith greater #istinctness an# precision, more perfectly 60&)CA>6&.' in e"ery part$ Perhaps in#ee# there is too much of !hat is technically calle# e/ecution$ When !e first sa! this celebrate# actor in the part, !e thought he sometimes faile# from an e/uberance of manner, an# #issipate# the impression of the general character by the "ariety of his resources$ &o be complete, his #elineation of it shoul# ha"e more soli#ity, #epth, sustaine# an# impassione# feeling, !ith some!hat less brilliancy, !ith fe!er glancing lights, pointe# transitions, an# pantomimic e"olutions$ &he 0ichar# of Shakespeare is to!ering an# loftyL eMually impetuous an# comman#ingL haughty, "iolent, an# subtleL bol# an# treacherousL confi#ent in his strength as !ell as in his cunningL raise# high by his birth, an# higher by his talents an# his crimesL a royal usurper, a princely hypocrite, a tyrant an# a mur#erer of the house

of Plantagenet$ %ut ) !as born so high5 ?ur aery buil#eth in the ce#ar's top, 6n# #allies !ith the !in#, an# scorns the sun$ &he i#ea con"eye# in these lines I!hich are in#ee# omitte# in the miserable me#ley acte# for 0ichar# )))J is ne"er lost sight of by Shakespeare, an# shoul# not be out of the actor's min# for a moment$ &he restless an# sanguinary 0ichar# is not a man stri"ing to be great, but to be greater than he isL conscious of his strength of !ill, his po!er of intellect, his #aring courage, his ele"ate# stationL an# making use of these a#"antages to commit unhear#Gof crimes, an# to shiel# himself from remorse an# infamy$ )f Dr$ Cean #oes not entirely succee# in concentrating all the lines of the character, as #ra!n by Shakespeare, he gi"es an animation, "igour, an# relief to the part !hich !e ha"e not seen eMualle#$ He is more refine# than CookeL more bol#, "arie#, an# original than Cemble in the same character$ )n some parts he is #eficient in #ignity, an# particularly in the scenes of state business, he has by no means an air of artificial authority$ &here is at times an aspiring ele"ation, an enthusiastic rapture in his e/pectations of attaining the cro!n, an# at others a gloating e/pression of sullen #elight, as if he alrea#y clenche# the bauble, an# hel# it in his grasp$ &he courtship scene !ith >a#y 6nne is an a#mirable e/hibition of smooth an# smiling "illainy$ &he progress of !ily a#ulation, of encroaching humility, is finely marke# by his action, "oice an# eye$ He seems, like the first &empter, to approach his prey, secure of the e"ent, an# as if success ha# smoothe# his !ay before him$ &he late Dr$ Cooke's manner of representing this scene !as more "ehement, hurrie#, an# full of an/ious uncertainty$ &his, though more natural in general, !as less in character in this particular instance$ 0ichar# shoul# !oo less as a lo"er than as an actorGGto sho! his mental superiority, an# po!er of making others the playthings of his purposes$ Dr$ Cean's attitu#e in leaning against the si#e of the stage before he comes for!ar# to a##ress >a#y 6nne, is one of the most graceful an# striking e"er !itnesse# on the stage$ )t !oul# #o for &itian to paint$ &he freMuent an# rapi# transition of his "oice from the e/pression of the fiercest passion to the most familiar tones of con"ersation !as that !hich ga"e a peculiar grace of no"elty to his acting on his first appearance$ &his has been since imitate# an# caricature# by others, an# he himself uses the artifice more sparingly than he #i#$ His byGplay is e/cellent$ His manner of bi##ing his frien#s 'Goo# night', after pausing !ith the point of his s!or# #ra!n slo!ly back!ar# an# for!ar# on the groun#, as if consi#ering the plan of the battle ne/t #ay, is a particularly happy an# natural thought$ He gi"es to the t!o last acts of the play the greatest animation an# effect$ He fills e"ery part of the stageL an# makes up for the #eficiency of his person by !hat has been sometimes objecte# to as an e/cess of action, &he conclu#ing scene in !hich he is kille# by 0ichmon# is the most brilliant of the !hole$ He fights at last like one #runk !ith !oun#sL an# the attitu#e in !hich he stan#s !ith his han#s stretche# out, after his s!or# is !reste# from him, has a preternatural an# terrific gran#eur, as if his !ill coul# not be #isarme#, an# the "ery phantoms of his #espair ha# po!er to kill$GG

Dr$ Cean has since in a great measure efface# the impression of his 0ichar# ))) by the superior efforts of his genius in ?thello Ihis masterpieceJ, in the mur#erGscene in D6C%.&H, in 0)CH60' )), in S)0 G)>.S ?-.00.6CH, an# lastly in ?0??B?C?L but !e still like to look back to his first performance of this part, both because it first assure# his a#mirers of his future success, an# because !e bore our feeble but, at that time, not useless testimony to the merits of this "ery original actor, on !hich the to!n !as consi#erably #i"i#e# for no other reason than because they W.0. original$ &he manner in !hich Shakespeare's plays or rather mangle# by mo#ern mechanists, stage$ &he patchG!ork 0ichar# ))) !hich of his name, an# !hich !as manufacture# e/ample of this remark$ ha"e been generally altere# is a #isgrace to the .nglish is acte# un#er the sanction by Cibber, is a striking

&he play itself is un#oubte#ly a "ery po!erful effusion of Shakespeare's genius$ &he groun#G!ork of the character of 0ichar#, that mi/ture of intellectual "igour !ith moral #epra"ity, in !hich Shakespeare #elighte# to sho! his strengthGGga"e full scope as !ell as temptation to the e/ercise of his imagination$ &he character of his hero is almost e"ery!here pre#ominant, an# marks its luri# track throughout$ &he original play is, ho!e"er, too long for representation, an# there are some fe! scenes !hich might be better spare# than preser"e#, an# by omitting !hich it !oul# remain a complete !hole$ &he only rule, in#ee#, for altering Shakespeare is to retrench certain passages !hich may be consi#ere# either as superfluous or obsolete, but not to a## or transpose anything$ &he arrangement an# #e"elopment of the story, an# the mutual contrast an# combination of the #ramatis personae, are in general as finely manage# as the #e"elopment of the characters or the e/pression of the passions$ &his rule has not been a#here# to in the present instance$ Some of the most important an# striking passages in the principal character ha"e been omitte#, to make room for i#le an# misplace# e/tracts from other playsL the only intention of !hich seems to ha"e been to make the character of 0ichar# as o#ious an# #isgusting as possible$ )t is apparently for no other purpose than to make Gloucester stab Cing Henry on the stage, that the fine abrupt intro#uction of the character in the opening of the play is lost in the te#ious !hining morality of the u/orious king Itaken from another playJLGG!e say &.')?AS, because it interrupts the business of the scene, an# loses its beauty an# effect by ha"ing no intelligible conne/ion !ith the pre"ious character of the mil#, !ellGmeaning monarch$ &he passages !hich the unfortunate Henry has to recite are beautiful an# pathetic in themsel"es, but they ha"e nothing to #o !ith the !orl# that 0ichar# has to 'bustle in'$ )n the same spirit of "ulgar caricature is the scene bet!een 0ichar# an# >a#y 6nne I!hen his !ifeJ interpolate# !ithout any authority, merely to gratify this fa"ourite propensity to #isgust an# loathing$ With the same per"erse consistency, 0ichar#, after his last fatal struggle, is raise# up by some gal"anic process, to utter the imprecation, !ithout any moti"e but pure malignity, !hich Shakespeare has so properly put into the mouth of Borthumberlan# on hearing of Percy's #eath$ &o make room for these !orse than nee#less a##itions, many of the most striking passages in the real play ha"e been omitte# by the foppery an#

ignorance of the promptGbook critics$ We #o not mean to insist merely on passages !hich are fine as poetry an# to the rea#er, such as Clarence's #ream, Oc$, but on those !hich are important to the un#erstan#ing of the character, an# peculiarly a#apte# for stageG effect$ We !ill gi"e the follo!ing as instances among se"eral others$ &he first is the scene !here 0ichar# enters abruptly to the Mueen an# her frien#s to #efen# himself5 Gloucester$ &hey #o me !rong, an# ) !ill not en#ure it$ Who are they that complain unto the king, &hat ) forsooth am stern, an# lo"e them notN %y holy Paul, they lo"e his grace but lightly, &hat fill his ears !ith such #issentious rumours5 %ecause ) cannot flatter an# look fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, #ecei"e, an# cog, 'uck !ith ,rench no#s, an# apish courtesy, ) must be hel# a rancorous enemy$ Cannot a plain man li"e, an# think no harm, %ut thus his simple truth must be abus'# With silken, sly, insinuating @acksN Gray$ &o !hom in all this presence speaks your graceN Gloucester$ &o thee, that hast nor honesty nor graceL When ha"e ) injur'# thee, !hen #one thee !rongN ?r theeN or theeN or any of your factionN 6 plague upon you all4 Bothing can be more characteristic than the turbulent pretensions to meekness an# simplicity in this a##ress$ 6gain, the "ersatility an# a#roitness of 0ichar# is a#mirably #escribe# in the follo!ing ironical con"ersation !ith %rakenbury5 %rakenbury$ ) beseech your graces both to par#on me$ His majesty hath straitly gi"en in charge, &hat no man shall ha"e pri"ate conference, ?f !hat #egree soe"er, !ith your brother$ Gloucester$ .'en so, an# please your !orship, %rakenbury, *ou may partake of anything !e say5 We speak no treason, manGG!e say the king )s !ise an# "irtuous, an# his noble Mueen Well strook in years, fair, an# not jealous$ We say that Shore's !ife hath a pretty foot, 6 cherry lip, 6 bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongueL &hat the Mueen's kin#re# are ma#e gentlefolks$ Ho! say you, sirN Can you #eny all thisN %rakenbury$ With this, my lor#, myself ha"e nought to #o$ Gloucester$ What, fello!, naught to #o !ith mistress ShoreN ) tell you, sir, he that #oth naught !ith her, ./cepting one, !ere best to #o it secretly alone$ %rakenbury$ What one, my lor#N

Gloucester$ Her husban#, kna"eGG!oul#'st thou betray meN &he feigne# reconciliation of Gloucester !ith the Mueen's kinsmen is also a masterpiece$ ?ne of the finest strokes in the play, an# !hich ser"es to sho! as much as anything the #eep, plausible manners of 0ichar#, is the unsuspecting security of Hastings, at the "ery time !hen the former is plotting his #eath, an# !hen that "ery appearance of cor#iality an# goo#Ghumour on !hich Hastings buil#s his confi#ence arises from 0ichar#'s consciousness of ha"ing betraye# him to his ruin$ &his, !ith the !hole character of Hastings, is omitte#$ Perhaps the t!o most beautiful passages in the original play are the fare!ell apostrophe of the Mueen to the &o!er, !here the chil#ren are shut up from her, an# &yrrel's #escription of their #eath$ We !ill finish our Muotations !ith them$ Fueen$ Stay, yet look back !ith me unto the &o!erL Pity, you ancient stones, those ten#er babes, Whom en"y hath immure# !ithin your !allsL 0ough cra#le for such little pretty ones, 0u#e, rugge# nurse, ol# sullen playGfello!, ,or ten#er princes4 &he other passage is the account of their #eath by &yrrel5 'ighton an# ,orrest, !hom ) #i# suborn &o #o this piece of ruthless butchery, 6lbeit they !ere flesh'# "illains, bloo#y #ogs,GG Wept like to chil#ren in their #eath's sa# story5 ? thus4 Muoth 'ighton, lay the gentle babesL &hus, thus, Muoth ,orrest, gir#ling one another Within their innocent alabaster armsL &heir lips !ere four re# roses on a stalk, 6n# in that summer beauty kisse# each otherL 6 book of prayers on their pillo! lay, Which once, Muoth ,orrest, almost change# my min#5 %ut oh the #e"il4GGthere the "illain stoppe#L When 'ighton thus tol# onGG!e smothere# &he most replenishe# s!eet !ork of nature, &hat from the prime creation ere she frame#$ &hese are some of those !on#erful bursts of feeling, #one to the life, to the "ery height of fancy an# nature, !hich our Shakespeare alone coul# gi"e$ We #o not insist on the repetition of these last passages as proper for the stage5 !e shoul# in#ee# be loath to trust them in the mouth of almost any actor5 but !e shoul# !ish them to be retaine# in preference at least to the fantoccini e/hibition of the young princes, .#!ar# an# *ork, ban#ying chil#ish !it !ith their uncle$

H.B0* -)))

&his play contains little action or "iolence of passion, yet it has consi#erable interest of a more mil# an# thoughtful cast, an# some of the most striking passages in the author's !orks$ &he character of Fueen Catherine is the most perfect #elineation of matronly #ignity, s!eetness, an# resignation, that can be concei"e#$ Her appeals to the protection of the king, her remonstrances to the car#inals, her con"ersations !ith her !omen, sho! a noble an# generous spirit accompanie# !ith the utmost gentleness of nature$ What can be more affecting than her ans!er to Campeius an# Wolsey, !ho come to "isit her as preten#e# frien#s$ GG'Bay, forsooth, my frien#s, &hey that must !eigh out my afflictions, &hey that my trust must gro! to, li"e not hereL &hey are, as all my comforts are, far hence, )n mine o!n country, lor#s$' 'r$ @ohnson obser"es of this play, that 'the meek sorro!s an# "irtuous #istress of Catherine ha"e furnishe# some scenes, !hich may be justly numbere# among the greatest efforts of trage#y$ %ut the genius of Shakespeare comes in an# goes out !ith Catherine$ ."ery other part may be easily concei"e# an# easily !ritten$' &his is easily sai#L but !ith all #ue #eference to so great a repute# authority as that of @ohnson, it is not true$ ,or instance, the scene of %uckingham le# to e/ecution is one of the most affecting an# natural in Shakespeare, an# one to !hich there is har#ly an approach in any other author$ 6gain, the character of Wolsey, the #escription of his pri#e an# of his fall, are inimitable, an# ha"e, besi#es their gorgeousness of effect, a pathos, !hich only the genius of Shakespeare coul# len# to the #istresses of a prou#, ba# man, like Wolsey$ &here is a sort of chil#Glike simplicity in the "ery helplessness of his situation, arising from the recollection of his past o"erbearing ambition$ 6fter the cutting sarcasms of his enemies on his #isgrace, against !hich he bears up !ith a spirit conscious of his o!n superiority, he breaks out into that fine apostrophe5 ,are!ell, a long fare!ell, to all my greatness4 &his is the state of manL toG#ay he puts forth &he ten#er lea"es of hope, toGmorro! blossoms, 6n# bears his blushing honours thick upon himL &he thir# #ay, comes a frost, a killing frostL 6n#GG!hen he thinks, goo# easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripeningGGnips his root, 6n# then he falls, as ) #o$ ) ha"e "entur'#, >ike little !anton boys that s!im on bla##ers, &hese many summers in a sea of gloryL %ut far beyon# my #epth5 my highGblo!n pri#e 6t length broke un#er meL an# no! has left me, Weary an# ol# !ith ser"ice, to the mercy ?f a ru#e stream, that must for e"er hi#e me$ -ain pomp an# glory of the !orl#, ) hate ye4 ) feel my heart ne! open'#L ? ho! !retche# )s that poor man, that hangs on princes' fa"ours4 &here is bet!i/t that smile !e !oul# aspire to, &hat s!eet aspect of princes, an# our ruin, Dore pangs an# fears than !ar an# !omen ha"eL

6n# !hen he falls, he falls like >ucifer, Be"er to hope again4GG &here is in this passage, as !ell as in the !ellGkno!n #ialogue !ith Crom!ell !hich follo!s, something !hich stretches beyon# commonplaceL nor is the account !hich Griffiths gi"es of Wolsey's #eath less ShakespearianL an# the can#our !ith !hich Fueen Catherine listens to the praise of 'him !hom of all men !hile li"ing she hate# most' a##s the last graceful finishing to her character$ 6mong other images of great in#i"i#ual beauty might be mentione# the #escription of the effect of 6nn %oleyn's presenting herself to the cro!# at her coronation$ GGWhile her grace sat #o!n &o rest a!hile, some half an hour or so, )n a rich chair of state, opposing freely &he beauty of her person to the people$ %elie"e me, sir, she is the goo#liest !oman &hat e"er lay by man$ Which !hen the people Ha# the full "ie! of, 'such a noise arose 6s the shrou#s make at sea in a stiff tempest, 6s lou# an# to as many tunes'$ &he character of Henry -))) is #ra!n !ith great truth an# spirit$ )t is like a "ery #isagreeable portrait, sketche# by the han# of a master$ His gross appearance, his blustering #emeanour, his "ulgarity, his arrogance, his sensuality, his cruelty, his hypocrisy, his !ant of common #ecency an# common humanity, are marke# in strong lines$ His tra#itional peculiarities of e/pression complete the reality of the picture$ &he authoritati"e e/pleti"e, 'Ha4' !ith !hich ne intimates his in#ignation or surprise, has an effect like the first startling soun# that breaks from a thun#erG clou#$ He is of all the monarchs in our history the most #isgusting5 for he unites in himself all the "ices of barbarism an# refinement, !ithout their "irtues$ ?ther kings before him Isuch as 0ichar# )))J !ere tyrants an# mur#erers out of ambition or necessity5 they gaine# or establishe# unjust po!er by "iolent means5 they #estroye# their or ma#e its tenure insecure$ %ut Henry -)))'s po!er is most fatal to those !hom he lo"es5 he is cruel an# remorseless to pamper his lu/urious appetites5 bloo#y an# "oluptuousL an amorous mur#ererL an u/orious #ebauchee$ His har#ene# insensibility to the feelings of others is strengthene# by the most profligate selfGin#ulgence$ &he religious hypocrisy, un#er !hich he masks his cruelty an# his lust, is a#mirably #isplaye# in the speech in !hich he #escribes the first misgi"ings of his conscience an# its increasing throes an# terrors, !hich ha"e in#uce# him to #i"orce his Mueen$ &he only thing in his fa"our in this play is his treatment of Cranmer5 there is also another circumstance in his fa"our, !hich is his patronage of Hans Holbein$GG)t has been sai# of Shakespeare, 'Bo mai# coul# li"e near such a man$' )t might !ith as goo# reason be sai#, 'Bo king coul# li"e near such a man$' His eye !oul# ha"e penetrate# through the pomp of circumstance an# the "eil of opinion$ 6s it is, he has represente# such persons to the lifeGGhis plays are in this respect the glass of historyGGhe has #one them the same justice as if he ha# been a pri"y counsellor all his life, an# in each successi"e reign$ Cings ought ne"er to be seen upon the stage$ )n the abstract, they

are "ery #isagreeable characters5 it is only !hile li"ing that they are 'the best of kings'$ )t is their po!er, their splen#our, it is the apprehension of the personal conseMuences of their fa"our or their hatre# that #azzles the imagination an# suspen#s the ju#gement of their fa"ourites or their "assalsL but #eath cancels the bon# of allegiance an# of interestL an# seen 6S &H.* W.0., their po!er an# their pretensions look monstrous an# ri#iculous$ &he charge brought against mo#ern philosophy as inimical to loyalty is unjust because it might as !ell be brought lo"er of kings$ We ha"e often !on#ere# that Henry -))) as he is #ra!n by Shakespeare, an# as !e ha"e seen him represente# in all the bloate# #eformity of min# an# person, is not hoote# from the .nglish stage$

C)BG @?HB C)BG @?HB is the last of the historical plays !e shall ha"e to speak ofL an# !e are not sorry that it is$ )f !e are to in#ulge our imaginations, !e ha# rather #o it upon an imaginary themeL if !e are to fin# subjects for the e/ercise of our pity an# terror, !e prefer seeking them in fictitious #anger an# fictitious #istress$ )t gi"es a S?0.B.SS to our feelings of in#ignation or sympathy, !hen !e kno! that in tracing the progress of sufferings an# crimes !e are trea#ing upon real groun#, an# recollect that the poet's '#ream' '.B?&.' 6 ,?0.G?B. C?BC>AS)?BGGirre"ocable ills, not conjure# up by fancy, but place# beyon# the reach of poetical justice$ &hat the treachery of Cing @ohn, the #eath of 6rthur, the grief of Constance, ha# a real truth in history, sharpens the sense of pain, !hile it hangs a lea#en !eight on the heart an# the imagination$ Something !hispers us that !e ha"e no right to make a mock of calamities like these, or to turn the truth of things into the puppet an# plaything of our fancies$ '&o consi#er thus' may be 'to consi#er too curiously'L but still !e think that the actual truth of the particular e"ents, in proportion as !e are conscious of it, is a #ra!back on the pleasure as !ell as the #ignity of trage#y$ C)BG @?HB has all the beauties of language an# all the richness of the imagination to relie"e the painfulness of the subject$ &he character of Cing @ohn himself is kept pretty much in the backgroun#L it is only marke# in by comparati"ely slight in#ications$ &he crimes he is tempte# to commit are such as are thrust upon him rather by circumstances an# opportunity than of his o!n seeking5 he is here represente# as more co!ar#ly than cruel, an# as more contemptible than o#ious$ &he play embraces only a part of his history$ &here are ho!e"er fe! characters on the stage that e/cite more #isgust an# loathing$ He has no intellectual gran#eur or strength of character to shiel# him from the in#ignation !hich his imme#iate con#uct pro"okes5 he stan#s nake# an# #efenceless, in that respect, to the !orst !e can think of him5 an# besi#es, !e are impelle# to put the "ery !orst construction on his meanness an# cruelty by the ten#er picture of the beauty an# helplessness of the object of it, as !ell as by the frantic an# heartGren#ing plea#ings of maternal #espair$ We #o not forgi"e him the #eath of 6rthur

because he ha# too late re"oke# his #oom an# trie# to pre"ent it, an# perhaps because he has himself repente# of his black #esign, our D?06> S.BS. gains courage to hate him the more for it$ We take him at his !or#, an# think his purposes must be o#ious in#ee#, !hen he himself shrinks back from them$ &he scene in !hich Cing @ohn suggests to Hubert the #esign of mur#ering his nephe! is a masterpiece of #ramatic skill, but it is still inferior, "ery inferior to the scene bet!een Hubert an# 6rthur, !hen the latter learns the or#ers to put out his eyes$ )f anything e"er !as penne#, heartGpiercing, mi/ing the e/tremes of terror an# pity, of that !hich shocks an# that !hich soothes the min#, it is this scene$ We !ill gi"e it entire, though perhaps it is tasking the rea#er's sympathy too much$ .nter Hubert an# ./ecutioner Hubert$ Heat me these irons hot, an# look you stan# Within the arrasL !hen ) strike my foot Apon the bosom of the groun#, rush forth 6n# bin# the boy, !hich you shall fin# !ith me, ,ast to the chair5 be hee#ful5 hence, an# !atch$ ./ecutioner$ ) hope your !arrant !ill bear out the #ee#$ Hubert$ Ancleanly scruples4 fear not youL look to't$GG *oung la#, come forthL ) ha"e to say !ith you$ .nter 6rthur 6rthur$ Goo# morro!, Hubert$ Hubert$ Dorro!, little Prince$ 6rthur$ 6s little prince Iha"ing so great a title &o be more princeJ as may be$ *ou are sa#$ Hubert$ )n#ee# ) ha"e been merrier$ 6rthur$ Dercy on me4 Dethinks no bo#y shoul# be sa# but )L *et ) remember !hen ) !as in ,rance, *oung gentlemen !oul# be as sa# as night, ?nly for !antonness$ %y my Christen#om, So !ere ) out of prison, an# kept sheep, ) shoul# be merry as the #ay is long$ 6n# so ) !oul# be here, but that ) #oubt Dy uncle practises more harm to me$ He is afrai# of me, an# ) of him$ )s it my fault that ) !as Geoffery's sonN )n#ee# it is not, an# ) !oul# to hea"'n ) !ere your son, so you !oul# lo"e me, Hubert$ Hubert$ )f ) talk to him, !ith his innocent prate He !ill a!ake my mercy, !hich lies #ea#L &herefore ) !ill be su##en, an# #ispatch$ :6si#e$= 6rthur$ 6re you sick, HubertN you look pale toG#ayN

)n sooth, ) !oul# you !ere a little sick, &hat ) might sit all night an# !atch !ith you$ 6las, ) lo"e you more than you #o me$ Hubert$ His !or#s #o take possession of my bosom$ 0ea# here, young 6rthurGG:Sho!ing a paper$= Ho! no!, foolish rheum, :6si#e$= &urning #isGpiteous torture out of #oor4 ) must be brief, lest resolution #rop ?ut at mine eyes in ten#er !omanish tears$GG Can you not rea# itN )s it not fair !ritN 6rthur$ &oo fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect$ Dust you !ith irons burn out both mine eyesN Hubert$ *oung boy, ) must$ 6rthur$ 6n# !ill youN Hubert$ 6n# ) !ill$ 6rthur$ Ha"e you the heartN When your hea# #i# but ache, ) knit my han#kerchief about your bro!s, I&he best ) ha#, a princess !rought it meJ 6n# ) #i# ne"er ask it you againL 6n# !ith my han# at mi#night hel# your hea#L 6n#, like the !atchful minutes to the hour, Still an# anon cheer'# up the hea"y time, Saying, !hat lack youN an# !here lies your griefN ?r, !hat goo# lo"e may ) perform for youN Dany a poor man's son !oul# ha"e lain still, 6n# ne'er ha"e spoke a lo"ing !or# to youL %ut you at your sick ser"ice ha# a prince$ Bay, you may think my lo"e !as crafty lo"e, 6n# call it cunning$ 'o, an# if you !ill5 )f hea"'n be pleas'# that you must use me ill, Why then you must$GGWill you put out mine eyesN &hese eyes, that ne"er #i#, an# ne"er shall, So much as fro!n on youN Hubert$ )'"e s!orn to #o itL 6n# !ith hot irons must ) burn them out$ 6rthur$ ?h if an angel shoul# ha"e come to me, 6n# tol# me Hubert shoul# put out mine eyes, ) !oul# not ha"e belie"'# a tongue but Hubert's$ Hubert, Come forthL #o as ) bi# you$ :Stamps, an# the men enter$= 6rthur$ ? sa"e me, Hubert, sa"e me4 my eyes are out ."'n !ith the fierce looks of these bloo#y men$ Hubert$ Gi"e me the iron, ) say, an# bin# him here$ 6rthur$ 6las, !hat nee# you be so boist'rous roughN ) !ill not struggle, ) !ill stan# stoneGstill$ ,or hea"'n's sake, Hubert, let me not be boun#4

Bay, hear me, Hubert, #ri"e these men a!ay, 6n# ) !ill sit as Muiet as a lamb5 ) !ill not stir, nor !ince, nor speak a !or#, Bor look upon the iron angrily5 &hrust but these men a!ay, an# )'ll forgi"e you, Whate"er torment you #o put me to$ Hubert$ Go, stan# !ithinL let me alone !ith him$ ./ecutioner$ ) am best pleas'# to be from such a #ee#$ 6rthur$ 6las, ) then ha"e chi# a!ay my frien#$ He hath a stern look, but a gentle heartL >et him come back, that his compassion may Gi"e life to yours$ Hubert$ Come, boy, prepare yourself$ 6rthur$ )s there no reme#yN Hubert$ Bone, but to lose your eyes$ 6rthur$ ? hea"'n4 that there !ere but a mote in yours, 6 grain, a #ust, a gnat, a !an#'ring hair, 6ny annoyance in that precious sense4 &hen, feeling !hat small things are boist'rous there, *our "ile intent must nee#s seem horrible$ Hubert$ )s this your promiseN go to, hol# your tongue$ 6rthur$ >et me not hol# my tongueL let me not, HubertL ?r, Hubert, if you !ill, cut out my tongue, So ) may keep mine eyes$ ? spare mine eyes4 &hough to no use, but still to look on you$ >o, by my troth, the instrument is col#, 6n# !oul# not harm me$ Hubert$ ) can heat it, boy$ 6rthur$ Bo, in goo# sooth, the fire is #ea# !ith grief$ %eing create for comfort, to be us'# )n un#eser"'# e/tremesL see else yourself, &here is no malice in this burning coalL &he breath of hea"'n hath blo!n its spirit out, 6n# stre!'# repentant ashes on its hea#$ Hubert$ %ut !ith my breath ) can re"i"e it, boy$ 6rthur$ 6ll things that you shall use to #o me !rong, 'eny their office, only you #o lack &hat mercy !hich fierce fire an# iron e/ten#, Creatures of note for mercyGlacking uses$ ' Hubert$ Well, see to li"eL ) !ill not touch thine eyes ,or all the treasure that thine uncle o!ns5 *et ) am s!orn, an# ) #i# purpose, boy, With this same "ery iron to bum them out$ :./it$=

6rthur$ ?, no! you look like Hubert$ 6ll this !hile *ou !ere #isguise#$ Hubert$ Peace4 no more$ 6#ieu, *our uncle must not kno! but you are #ea#$ )'ll fill these #ogge# spies !ith false reports5 6n#, pretty chil#, sleep #oubtless an# secure, &hat Hubert, for the !ealth of all the !orl#, Will not offen# thee$ 6rthur$ ? hea"'n4 ) thank you, Hubert$ Hubert$ Silence, no moreL go closely in !ith meL Duch #anger #o ) un#ergo for thee$ :./eunt$= His #eath after!ar#s, !hen he thro!s himself from his prisonG!alls, e/cites the utmost pity for his innocence an# frien#less situation, an# !ell justifies the e/aggerate# #enunciations of ,alconbri#ge to Hubert !hom he suspects !rongfully of the #ee#$ &here is not yet so ugly a fien# of hell 6s thou shalt be, if thou #i#'st kill this chil#$ GG)f thou #i#'st but consent &o this most cruel act, #o but #espair5 6n# if thou !ant'st a cor#, the smallest threa# &hat e"er spi#er t!iste# from her !omb Will strangle theeL a rush !ill be a beam &o hang thee on5 or !oul#'st thou #ro!n thyself, Put but a little !ater in a spoon, 6n# it shall be as all the ocean, .nough to stifle such a "illain up$ &he e/cess of maternal ten#erness, ren#ere# #esparate by the fickleness of frien#s an# the injustice of fortune, an# ma#e stronger in !ill, in proportion to the !ant of all other po!er, !as ne"er more finely e/presse# than in Constance, &he #ignity of her ans!er to Cing Philip, !hen she refuses to accompany his messenger, '&o me an# to the state of my great grief, let kings assemble,' her in#ignant reproach to 6ustria for #eserting her cause, her in"ocation to #eath, 'that lo"e of misery', ho!e"er fine an# spirite#, all yiel# to the beauty of the passage, !here, her passion subsi#ing into ten#erness, she a##resses the Car#inal in these !or#s5 ?h father Car#inal, ) ha"e hear# you say &hat !e shall see an# kno! our frien#s in hea"'n5 )f that be, ) shall see my boy again, ,or since the birth of Cain, the first male chil#, &o him that #i# but yester#ay suspire, &here !as not such a gracious creature born$ %ut no! !ill cankerGsorro! eat my bu#, 6n# chase the nati"e beauty from his cheek, 6n# he !ill look as hollo! as a ghost, 6s #im an# meagre as an ague's fit, 6n# so he'll #ieL an# rising so again, When ) shall meet him in the court of hea"'n,

) shall not kno! himL therefore ne"er, ne"er Dust ) behol# my pretty 6rthur more$ C$ Philip$ *ou are as fon# of grief as of your chil#$ Constance$ Grief fills the room up of my absent chil#5 >ies in his be#, !alks up an# #o!n !ith meL Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his !or#s, 0emembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his "acant garments !ith his form$ &hen ha"e ) reason to be fon# of grief$ &he contrast bet!een the mil# resignation of Fueen Catherine to her o!n !rongs, an# the !il#, uncontrollable affliction of Constance for the !rongs !hich she sustains as a mother, is no less naturally concei"e# than it is ably sustaine# throughout these t!o !on#erful characters$ &he accompaniment of the comic character of the %astar# !as !ell chosen to relie"e the poignant agony of suffering, an# the col#, co!ar#ly policy of beha"iour in the principal characters of this play$ )ts spirit, in"ention, "olubility of tongue, an# for!ar#ness in action, are unboun#e#$ 6liMuan#o sufflaminan#us erat, says %en @onson of Shakespeare$ %ut !e shoul# be sorry it %en @onson ha# been his licenser$ We prefer the hee#less magnanimity of his !it infinitely to all @onson's laborious caution$ &he character of the %astar#'s comic humour is the same in essence as that of other comic characters in ShakespeareL they al!ays run on !ith goo# things an# are ne"er e/hauste#L they are al!ays #aring an# successful$ &hey ha"e !or#s at !ill an# a flo! of !it, like a flo! of animal spirits$ &he #ifference bet!een ,alconbri#ge an# the others is that he is a sol#ier, an# brings his !it to bear upon action, is courageous !ith his s!or# as !ell as tongue, an# stimulates his gallantry by his jokes, his enemies feeling the sharpness of his blo!s an# the sting of his sarcasms at the same time$ 6mong his happiest sallies are his #escanting on the composition of his o!n person, his in"ecti"e against 'commo#ity, tickling commo#ity', an# his e/pression of contempt for the 6rch#uke of 6ustria, !ho ha# kille# his father, !hich begins in jest but en#s in serious earnest$ His con#uct at the siege of 6ngiers sho!s that his resources !ere not confine# to "erbal retorts$GG&he same e/posure of the policy of courts an# camps, of kings, nobles, priests, an# car#inals, takes place here as in the other plays !e ha"e gone through, an# !e shall not go into a #isgusting repetition$ &his, like the other plays taken from .nglish history, is !ritten in a remarkably smooth an# flo!ing style, "ery #ifferent from some of the trage#ies, D6C%.&H, for instance$ &he passages consist of a series of single lines, not running into one another$ &his peculiarity in the "ersification, !hich is most common in the three parts of H.B0* -), has been assigne# as a reason !hy those plays !ere not !ritten by Shakespeare$ %ut the same structure of "erse occurs in his other un#oubte# plays, as in 0)CH60' )) an# in C)BG @?HB$ &he follo!ing are instances5 &hat #aughter there of Spain, the >a#y %lanch, )s near to .nglan#L look upon the years

?f >e!is the 'auphin, an# that lo"ely mai#$ )f lusty lo"e shoul# go in Muest of beauty, Where shoul# he fin# it fairer than in %lanchN )f zealous lo"e shoul# go in search of "irtue, Where shoul# he fin# it purer than in %lanchN )f lo"e ambitious sought a match of birth, Whose "eins boun# richer bloo# than >a#y %lanchN Such as she is, in beauty, "irtue, birth, )s the young 'auphin e"ery !ay complete5 )f not complete of, say he is not sheL 6n# she again !ants nothing, to name !ant, )f !ant it be not, that she is not he$ He is the half part of a blesse# man, >eft to be finishe# by such as sheL 6n# she a fair #i"i#e# e/cellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him$ ?, t!o such sil"er currents, !hen they join, 'o glorify the banks that boun# them inL 6n# t!o such shores to t!o such streams ma#e one, &!o such controlling boun#s, shall you be, kings, &o these t!o princes, if you marry them$ 6nother instance, !hich is certainly "ery happy as an e/ample of the simple enumeration of a number of particulars, is Salisbury's remonstrance against the secon# cro!ning of the king$ &herefore to be possesse# !ith #ouble pomp, &o guar# a title that !as rich beforeL &o gil# refine# gol#, to paint the lily, &o thro! a perfume on the "iolet, &o smooth the ice, to a## another hue Anto the rainbo!, or !ith taper light &o seek the beauteous eye of hea"'n to garnish5 )s !asteful an# ri#iculous e/cess$

&W.>,&H B)GH&L ?0, WH6& *?A W)>> &his is justly consi#ere# as one of the most #elightful of Shakespeare's come#ies$ )t is full of s!eetness an# pleasantry$ )t is perhaps too goo#Gnature# for come#y$ )t has little satire, an# no spleen$ )t aims at the lu#icrous rather than the ri#iculous$ )t makes us laugh at the follies of mankin#, not #espise them, an# still less bear any illG!ill to!ar#s them$ Shakespeare's comic genius resembles the bee rather in its po!er of e/tracting s!eets from !ee#s or poisons, than in lea"ing a sting behin# it$ He gi"es #ie most amusing e/aggeration of the pre"ailing foibles of his characters, but in a !ay that they themsel"es, instea# of being offen#e# at, !oul# almost join in to humourL he rather contri"es opportunities for them to sho! themsel"es off in the happiest lights, than ren#ers them contemptible in the per"erse construction of the !it or malice of others$GG&here is a certain stage of society in !hich people become conscious of their peculiarities an#

absur#ities, affect to #isguise !hat they are, an# set up pretensions to !hat they are not$ &his gi"es rise to a correspon#ing style of come#y, the object of !hich is to #etect the #isguises of selfGlo"e, an# to make reprisals on these preposterous assumptions of "anity, by marking the contrast bet!een the real an# the affecte# character as se"erely as possible, an# #enying to those !ho !oul# impose on us for !hat they are not, e"en the merit !hich they ha"e$ &his is the come#y of artificial life, of !it an# satire, such as !e see it in Congre"e, Wycherley, -anbrugh, Oc$ &o this succee#s a state of society from !hich the same sort of affectation an# pretence are banishe# by a greater kno!le#ge of the !orl# or by their successful e/posure on the stageL an# !hich by neutralizing the materials of comic character, both natural an# artificial, lea"es no come#y at allGGbut the sentimental$ Such is our mo#ern come#y$ &here is a perio# in the progress of manners anterior to both these, in !hich the foibles an# follies of in#i"i#uals are of nature's planting, not the gro!th of art or stu#yL in !hich they are therefore unconscious of them themsel"es, or care not !ho kno!s them, if they can but ha"e their !him outL an# in !hich, as there is no attempt at imposition, the spectators rather recei"e pleasure from humouring the inclinations of the persons they laugh at, than !ish to gi"e them pain by e/posing their absur#ity$ &his may be calle# the come#y of nature, an# it is the come#y !hich !e generally fin# in Shakespeare$GGWhether the analysis here gi"en be just or not, the spirit of his come#ies is e"i#ently Muite #istinct from that of the authors abo"e mentione#, as it is in its essence the same !ith that of Cer"antes, an# also "ery freMuently of Doliere, though he !as more systematic in his e/tra"agance than Shakespeare$ Shakespeare's come#y is of a pastoral an# poetical cast$ ,olly is in#igenous to the soil, an# shoots out !ith nati"e, happy, unchecke# lu/uriance$ 6bsur#ity has e"ery encouragement affor#e# itL an# nonsense has room to flourish in$ Bothing is stunte# by the churlish, icy han# of in#ifference or se"erity$ &he poet runs riot in a conceit, an# i#olizes a Muibble$ His !hole object is to turn the meanest or ru#est objects to a pleasurable account$ &he relish !hich he has of a pun, or of the Muaint humour of a lo! character, #oes not interfere !ith the #elight !ith !hich he #escribes a beautiful image, or the most refine# lo"e$ &he clo!n's force# jests #o not spoil the s!eetness of the character of -iolaL the same house is big enough to hol# Dal"olio, the Countess, Daria, Sir &oby, an# Sir 6n#re! 6guecheek$ ,or instance, nothing can fall much lo!er than this last character in intellect or morals5 yet ho! are his !eaknesses nurse# an# #an#le# by Sir &oby into something 'high fantastical', !hen on Sir 6n#re!'s commen#ation of himself for #ancing an# fencing, Sir &oby ans!ers5 'Wherefore are these things hi#N Wherefore ha"e these gifts a curtain before themN 6re they like to take #ust like Distress Doll's pictureN Why #ost thou not go to church in a galliar#, an# come home in a corantoN Dy "ery !alk shoul# be a jig4 ) !oul# not so much as make !ater but in a cinMueG pace$ What #ost thou meanN )s this a !orl# to hi#e "irtues inN ) #i# think by the e/cellent constitution of thy leg, it !as frame# un#er the star of a galliar#4'GGHo! Sir &oby, Sir 6n#re!, an# the Clo!n after!ar#s chirp o"er their cups, ho! they 'rouse the nightGo!l in a catch, able to #ra! three souls out of one !ea"er'4GGWhat can be better than Sir &oby's unans!erable ans!er to Dal"olio, ''ost thou think, because thou art "irtuous, there shall be no more cakes an# aleN' )n a !or#, the best turn is gi"en to e"erything, instea# of

the !orst$ &here is a constant infusion of the romantic an# enthusiastic, in proportion as the characters are natural an# sincere5 !hereas, in the more artificial style of come#y, e"erything gi"es !ay to ri#icule an# in#ifference, there being nothing left but affectation on one si#e, an# incre#ulity on the other$GGDuch as !e like Shakespeare's come#ies, !e cannot agree !ith 'r$ @ohnson that they are better than his trage#iesL nor #o !e like them half so !ell$ )f his inclination to come#y sometimes le# him to trifle !ith the seriousness of trage#y, the poetical an# impassione# passages are the best parts of his come#ies$ &he great an# secret charm of &W.>,&H B)GH& is the character of -iola$ Duch as !e like catches an# cakes an# ale, there is something that !e like better$ We ha"e a frien#ship for Sir &obyL !e patronize Sir 6n#re!L !e ha"e an un#erstan#ing !ith the Clo!n, a sneaking kin#ness for Daria an# her rogueriesL !e feel a regar# for Dal"olio, an# sympathize !ith his gra"ity, his smiles, his crossGgarters, his yello! stockings, an# imprisonment in the stocks$ %ut there is something that e/cites in us a stronger feeling than all thisGGit is -iola's confession of her lo"e$ 'uke$ What's her historyN -iola$ 6 blank, my lor#, she ne"er tol# her lo"e5 She let concealment, like a !orm i' th' bu#, ,ee# on her #amask cheek, she pin'# in thought, 6n# !ith a green an# yello! melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief$ Was not this lo"e in#ee#N We men may say more, s!ear more, but in#ee#, ?ur sho!s are more than !illL for still !e pro"e Duch in our "o!s, but little in our lo"e$ 'uke$ %ut #ie# thy sister of her lo"e, my boyN -iola$ ) am all the #aughters of my father's house, 6n# all the brothers tooL an# yet ) kno! not$ Shakespeare alone coul# #escribe the effect of his o!n poetry$ ?h, it came o'er the ear like the s!eet south &hat breathes upon a bank of "iolets, Stealing an# gi"ing o#our$ What !e so much a#mire here is not the image of Patience on a monument, !hich has been generally Muote#, but the lines before an# after it$ '&hey gi"e a "ery echo to the seat !here lo"e is throne#$' Ho! long ago it is since !e first learnt to repeat themL an# still, still they "ibrate on the heart, like the soun#s !hich the passing !in# #ra!s from the trembling strings of a harp left on some #esert shore4 &here are other passages of not less impassione# s!eetness$ Such is ?li"ia's a##ress to Sebastian !hom she supposes to ha"e alrea#y #ecei"e# her in a promise of marriage$ %lame not this haste of mine5 if you mean !ell, Bo! go !ith me an# !ith this holy man )nto the chantry by5 there before him, 6n# un#erneath that consecrate# roof,

Plight me the full assurance of your faith, &H6& D* D?S& @.6>?AS 6B' &?? '?A%&,A> S?A> D6* >)-. 6& P.6C.$ We ha"e alrea#y sai# something of Shakespeare's songs$ ?ne of the most beautiful of them occurs in this play, !ith a preface of his o!n to it$ 'uke$ ? fello!, come, the song !e ha# last night$ Dark it, Cesario, it is ol# an# plainL &he spinsters an# the knitters in the sun, 6n# the free mai#s that !ea"e their threa# !ith bones, 'o use to chaunt itL it is silly sooth, 6n# #allies !ith the innocence of lo"e, >ike the ol# age$ Song Come a!ay, come a!ay, #eath, 6n# in sa# cypress let me be lai#L ,ly a!ay, fly a!ay, breathL ) am slain by a fair cruel mai#$ Dy shrou# of !hite, stuck all !ith ye!, ? prepare itL Dy part of #eath no one so true 'i# share it$ Bot a flo!er, not a flo!er s!eet, ?n my black coffin let there be stro!nL Bot a frien#, not a frien# greet Dy poor corpse, !here my bones shall be thro!nL 6 thousan# thousan# sighs to sa"e, >ay me, ?4 !here Sa# trueGlo"e ne"er fin# my gra"e, &o !eep there$ Who after this !ill say that Shakespeare's genius !as only fitte# for come#yN *et after rea#ing other parts of this play, an# particularly the gar#enGscene !here Dal"olio picks up the letter, if !e !ere to say that his genius for come#y !as less than his genius for trage#y, it !oul# perhaps only pro"e that our o!n taste in such matters is more saturnine than mercurial$ .nter Daria Sir &oby$ Here comes the little "illain5GGHo! no!, my Bettle of )n#iaN Daria$ Get ye all three into the bo/Gtree5 Dal"olio's coming #o!n this !alk5 he has been yon#er i' the sun, practising beha"iour to his o!n sha#o! this half hourL obser"e him, for the lo"e of mockeryL for ) kno! this letter !ill make a contemplati"e i#iot of him$ Close, in the name of jesting4 >ie thou thereL for here comes the trout that must be caught !ith tickling$ :&hey hi#e themsel"es$ Daria thro!s #o!n a letter, an# e/it$=

.nter Dal"olio Dal"olio$ '&is but fortuneL all is fortune$ Daria once tol# me, she #i# affect meL an# ) ha"e hear# herself come thus near, that, shoul# she fancy, it shoul# be one of my comple/ion$ %esi#es, she uses me !ith a more e/alte# respect than any one else that follo!s her$ What shoul# ) think on'tN Sir &oby$ Here's an o"erG!eening rogue4 ,abian$ ?, peace4 Contemplation makes a rare turkeyG cock of himL ho! he jets un#er his a#"ance# plumes4 Sir 6n#re!$ 'Slight, ) coul# so beat the rogue5GG Sir &oby$ Peace, ) say$ Dal"olio$ &o be Count Dal"olioLGG Sir &oby$ 6h, rogue4 Sir 6n#re!$ Pistol him, pistol him$ Sir &oby$ Peace, peace4 Dal"olio$ &here is e/ample for'tL the la#y of the Strachy marrie# the yeoman of the !ar#robe$ Sir 6n#re!$ ,ire on him, @ezebel4 ,abian$ ?, peace4 no! he's #eeply inL look, ho! imagination blo!s him$ Dal"olio$ Ha"ing been three months marrie# to her, sitting in my chair of state,GG Sir &oby$ ? for a stone bo!, to hit him in the eye4 Dal"olio$ Calling my officers about me, in my branch'# "el"et go!nL ha"ing come from a #ayGbe#, !here ) ha"e left ?li"ia sleeping$ Sir &oby$ ,ire an# brimstone4 ,abian$ ? peace, peace4 Dal"olio$ 6n# then to ha"e the humour of state5 an# after a #emure tra"el of regar#,GGtelling them, ) kno! my place, as ) !oul# they shoul# #o theirs,GGto ask for my kinsman &oby$GG Sir &oby$ %olts an# shackles4 ,abian$ ?, peace, peace, peace4 no!, no!$ Dal"olio$ Se"en of my people, !ith an obe#ient start,

make out for himL ) fro!n the !hileL an#, perchance, !in# up my !atch, or play !ith some rich je!el$ &oby approachesL curtsies there to me$ Sir &oby$ Shall this fello! li"eN ,abian$ &hough our silence be #ra!n from us !ith cares, yet peace$ Dal"olio$ ) e/ten# my han# to him thus, Muenching my familiar smile !ith an austere regar# to control$ Sir &oby$ 6n# #oes not &oby take you a blo! o' the lips thenN Dal"olio$ SayingGGCousin &oby, my fortunes ha"ing cast me on your niece, gi"e me this prerogati"e of speechLGG Sir &oby$ What, !hatN Dal"olio$ *ou must amen# your #runkenness$ ,abian$ Bay, patience, or !e break the sine!s of our plot$ Dal"olio$ %esi#es, you !aste the treasure of your time !ith a foolish knightGG Sir 6n#re!$ &hat's me, ) !arrant you$ Dal"olio$ ?ne Sir 6n#re!GG Sir 6n#re!$ ) kne!,'t!as )L for many #o call me fool$ Dal"olio$ What employment ha"e !e hereN :&aking up the letter$=

&he letter an# his comments on it are eMually goo#$ )f poor Dal"olio's treatment after!ar#s is a little har#, poetical justice is #one in the uneasiness !hich ?li"ia suffers on account of her mistaken attachment to Cesario, as her insensibility to the "iolence of the 'uke's passion is atone# for by the #isco"ery of -iola's conceale# lo"e of him$

&H. &W? G.B&>.D.B ?, -.0?B6 &his is little more than the first outlines of a come#y loosely sketche# in$ )t is the story of a no"el #ramatize# !ith "ery little labour or pretensionL yet there are passages of high poetical spirit, an# of inimitable Muaintness of humour, !hich are un#oubte#ly Shakespeare's, an# there is throughout the con#uct of the fable a careless grace an# felicity !hich marks it for his$ ?ne of the e#itors I!e belie"e, Dr$ PopeJ remarks in a marginal note to

the &W? G.B&>.D.B ?, -.0?B65 ')t is obser"able I) kno! not for !hat causeJ that the style of this come#y is less figurati"e, an# more natural an# unaffecte# than the greater part of this author's, though suppose# to be one of the first he !rote$' *et so little #oes the e#itor appear to ha"e ma#e up his min# upon this subject, that !e fin# the follo!ing note to the "ery ne/t Ithe secon#J scene$ '&his !hole scene, like many others in these plays Isome of !hich ) belie"e !ere !ritten by Shakespeare, an# others interpolate# by the playersJ is compose# of the lo!est an# most trifling conceits, to be accounte# for only by the gross taste of the age he li"e# in5 Populo ut placerent$ ) !ish ) ha# authority to lea"e them out, but ) ha"e #one all ) coul#, set a mark of reprobation upon them, throughout this e#ition$' )t is strange that our fasti#ious critic shoul# fall so soon from praising to reprobating$ &he style of the familiar parts of this come#y is in#ee# ma#e up of conceitsGGlo! they may be for !hat !e kno!, but then they are not poor, but rich ones$ &he scene of >aunce !ith his #og Inot that in the secon#, but that in the fourth actJ is a perfect treat in the !ay of farcical #rollery an# in"entionL nor #o !e think Spee#'s manner of pro"ing his master to be in lo"e #eficient in !it or sense, though the style may be criticize# as not simple enough for the mo#ern taste$ -alentine$ Why, ho! kno! you that ) am in lo"eN Spee#$ Darry, by these special marksL first, you ha"e learne#, like Sir Protheus, to !reathe your arms like a malcontent, to relish a lo"eGsong like a robinGre#Gbreast, to !alk alone like one that ha# the pestilence, to sigh like a schoolboy that ha# lost his 6 % C, to !eep like a young !ench that ha# burie# her gran#am, to fast like one that takes #iet, to !atch like one that fears robbing, to speak puling like a beggar at Hallo!mas$ *ou !ere !ont, !hen you laughe#, to cro! like a cockL !hen you !alke#, to !alkL like one of the lionsL !hen you faste#, it !as presently after #innerL !hen you looke# sa#ly, it !as for !ant of moneyL an# no! you are metamorphose# !ith a mistress, that !hen ) look on you, ) can har#ly think you my master$ &he ten#er scenes in this play, though not so highly !rought as in some others, ha"e often much s!eetness of sentiment an# e/pression$ &here is something pretty an# playful in the con"ersation of @ulia !ith her mai#, !hen she sho!s such a #isposition to coMuetry about recei"ing the letter from ProteusL an# her beha"iour after!ar#s an# her #isappointment, !hen she fin#s him faithless to his "o!s, remin# us at a #istance of )mogen's ten#er constancy$ Her ans!er to >ucetta, !ho a#"ises her against follo!ing her lo"er in #isguise, is a beautiful piece of poetry$ >ucetta$ ) #o not seek to Muench your lo"e's hot fire, %ut Mualify the fire's e/tremes4 rage, >est it shoul# burn abo"e the boun#s of reason$ @ulia$ &he more thou #amm'st it up, the more it burnsL &he current that !ith gentle murmur gli#es, &hou kno!'st, being stopp'#, impatiently #oth rageL %ut !hen his fair course is not hin#ere#, He makes s!eet music !ith th' enamell'# stones, Gi"ing a gentle kiss to e"ery se#ge He o"ertaketh in his pilgrimage5 6n# so by many !in#ing nooks he strays, With !illing sport, to the !il# ocean$

:,ootnote5 '&he ri"er !an#ers at its o!n s!eet !ill$' Wor#s!orth$ = &hen let me go, an# hin#er not my courseL )'ll be as patient as a gentle stream, 6n# make a pastime of each !eary step, &ill the last step ha"e brought me to my lo"eL 6n# there )'ll rest, as after much turmoil, 6 blesse# soul #oth in .lysium$ )f Shakespeare in#ee# ha# !ritten only this an# other passages in the &W? G.B&>.D.B ?, -.0?B6, he !oul# 6>D?S& ha"e #eser"e# Dilton's praise of himGG 6n# s!eetest Shakespeare, ,ancy's chil#, Warbles his nati"e !oo#G notes !il#$ %ut as it is, he #eser"es rather more praise than this$

&H. D.0CH6B& ?, -.B)C. &his is a play that in spite of the change of manners an# of preju#ices still hol#s un#ispute# possession of the stage$ Shakespeare's malignant has outli"e# Dr$ Cumberlan#'s bene"olent @e!$ )n proportion as Shylock has cease# to be a popular bugbear, 'baite# !ith the rabble's curse', he becomes a half fa"ourite !ith the philosophical part of the au#ience, !ho are #ispose# to think that @e!ish re"enge is at least as goo# as Christian injuries$ Shylock is 6 G??' H6&.0L 'a$ man no less sinne# against than sinning'$ )f he carries his re"enge too far, yet he has strong groun#s for 'the lo#ge# hate he bears 6nthonio', !hich he e/plains !ith eMual force of eloMuence an# reason$ He seems the #epositary of the "engeance of his raceL an# though the long habit of broo#ing o"er #aily insults an# injuries has cruste# o"er his temper !ith in"eterate misanthropy, an# har#ene# him against the contempt of mankin#, this a##s but little to the triumphant pretensions of his enemies$ &here is a strong, Muick, an# #eep sense of justice mi/e# up !ith the gall an# bitterness of his resentment$ &he constant apprehension of being burnt ali"e, plun#ere#, banishe#, re"ile#, an# trample# on, might be suppose# to sour the most forbearing nature, an# to take something from that 'milk of human kin#ness', !ith !hich his persecutors contemplate# his in#ignities$ &he #esire of re"enge is almost inseparable from the sense of !rongL an# !e can har#ly help sympathizing !ith the prou# spirit, hi# beneath his '@e!ish gaber#ine', stung to ma#ness by repeate# un#eser"e# pro"ocations, an# labouring to thro! off the loa# of obloMuy an# oppression heape# upon him an# all his tribe by one #esperate act of 'la!ful' re"enge, till the ferociousness of the means by !hich he is to e/ecute his purpose, an# the pertinacity !ith !hich he a#heres to it, turn us against himL but e"en at last, !hen #isappointe# of the sanguinary re"enge !ith !hich he ha# glutte# his hopes, an# e/pose# to beggary an# contempt by the letter of the la! on !hich he ha# insiste# !ith so little remorse, !e pity him, an# think him har#ly #ealt !ith by

his ju#ges$ )n all his ans!ers an# retorts upon his a#"ersaries, he has the best not only of the argument but of the Muestion, reasoning on their o!n principles an# practice$ &hey are so far from allo!ing of any measure of eMual #ealing, of common justice or humanity bet!een themsel"es an# the @e!, that e"en !hen they come to ask a fa"our of him, an# Shylock remin#s them that 'on such a #ay they spit upon him, another spurne# him, another calle# him #og, an# for these courtesies reMuest hell len# them so much monies'GG6nthonio, his ol# enemy, instea# of any ackno!le#gement of the shre!#ness an# justice of his remonstrance, !hich !oul# ha"e been preposterous in a respectable Catholic merchant in those times, threatens him !ith a repetition of the same treatmentGG ) am as like to call thee so again, &o spit on thee again, to spurn thee too$ 6fter this, the appeal to the @e!'s mercy, as if there !ere any common principle of right an# !rong bet!een them, is the rankest hypocrisy, or the blin#est preju#iceL an# the @e!'s ans!er to one of 6nthonio's frien#s, !ho asks him !hat his poun# of forfeit flesh is goo# for, is irresistible5 &o bait fish !ithalL if it !ill fee# nothing else, it !ill fee# my re"enge$ He hath #isgrac'# me, an# hin#er'# me of half a million, laughe# at my losses, mock'# at my gains, scorn'# my nation, th!arte# my bargains, cool'# my frien#s, heate# mine enemiesL an# !hat's his reasonN ) am a @e!$ Hath not a @e! eyesL hath not a @e! han#s, organs, #imensions, senses, affections, passionsL fe# !ith the same foo#, hurt !ith the same !eapons, subject to the same #iseases, heale# by the same means, !arme# an# coole# by the same !inter an# summer that a Christian isN )f you prick us, #o !e not blee#N )f you tickle us, #o !e not laughN )f you poison us, #o !e not #ieN 6n# if you !rong us, shall !e not re"engeN )f !e are like you in the rest, !e !ill resemble you in that$ )f a @e! !rong a Christian, !hat is his humilityN re"enge$ )f a Christian !rong a @e!, !hat shoul# his sufferance be by Christian e/ampleN !hy re"enge$ &he "illany you teach me ) !ill e/ecute, an# it shall go har# but ) !ill better the instruction$ &he !hole of the trial scene, both before an# after the entrance of Portia, is a masterpiece of #ramatic skill$ &he legal acuteness, the passionate #eclamations, the soun# ma/ims of jurispru#ence, the !it an# irony intersperse# in it, the fluctuations of hope an# fear in the #ifferent persons, an# the completeness an# su##enness of the catastrophe, cannot be surpasse#$ Shylock, !ho is his o!n counsel, #efen#s himself !ell, an# is triumphant on all the general topics that are urge# against him, an# only &ails through a legal fla!$ &ake the follo!ing as an instance5 Shylock$ What ju#gment shall ) #rea#, #oing no !rongN *ou ha"e among you many a purchas'# sla"e, Which, like your asses, an# your #ogs, an# mules, *ou use in abject an# in sla"ish part, %ecause you bought them5GGshall ) say to you, >et them be free, marry them to your heirsN Why s!eat they un#er bur#ensN let their be#s %e ma#e as soft as yours, an# let their palates %e season'# !ith such "ian#sN you !ill ans!er, &he sla"es are ours5GGso #o ) ans!er you5 &he poun# of flesh, !hich ) #eman# of him, )s #early bought, is mine, an# ) !ill

ha"e itL )f you #eny me, fie upon your la!4 &here is no force in the #ecrees of -enice5 ) stan# for ju#gment5 ans!erL shall ) ha"e itN &he keenness of his re"enge a!akes all his facultiesL an# he beats back all opposition to his purpose, !hether gra"e or gay, !hether of !it or argument, !ith an eMual #egree of eamestness an# selfG possession$ His character is #isplaye# as #istinctly in other less prominent parts of the play, an# !e may collect from a fe! sentences the history of his lifeGGhis #escent an# origin, his thrift an# #omestic economy, his affection for his #aughter, !hom he lo"es ne/t to his !ealth, his courtship an# his first present to >eah, his !ife4 ') !oul# not ha"e parte# !ith it' Ithe ring !hich he first ga"e herJ 'for a !il#erness of monkeys4' What a fine Hebraism is implie# in this e/pression4 Portia is not a "ery great fa"ourite !ith us, neither are !e in lo"e !ith her mai#, Berissa$ Portia has a certain #egree of affectation an# pe#antry about her, !hich is "ery unusual in Shakespeare's !omen, but !hich perhaps !as a proper Mualification for the office of a 'ci"il #octor', !hich she un#ertakes an# e/ecutes so successfully$ &he speech about mercy is "ery !ellL but there are a thousan# finer ones in Shakespeare$ We #o not a#mire the scene of the casketsL an# object entirely to the %lack Prince, Dorocchius$ We shoul# like @essica better if she ha# not #ecei"e# an# robbe# her father, an# >orenzo, if he ha# not marrie# a @e!ess, though he thinks he has a right to !rong a @e!$ &he #ialogue bet!een this ne!ly marrie# couple by moonlight, beginning '?n such a night', Oc$, is a collection of classical elegancies$ >auncelot, the @e!'s man, is an honest fello!$ &he #ilemma in !hich he #escribes himself place# bet!een his 'conscience an# the fien#', the one of !hich a#"ises him to run a!ay from his master's ser"ice an# the other to stay in it, is e/Muisitely humorous$ Gratiano is a "ery a#mirable subor#inate character, He is the jester of the piece5 yet one speech of his, in his o!n #efence, contains a !hole "olume of !is#om, 6nthonio$ ) hol# the !orl# but as the !orl#, Gratiano, 6 stage, !here e"ery one must play his partL 6n# mine a sa# one$ Gratiano$ >et me play the fool5 With mirth an# laughter let ol# !rinkles comeL 6n# let my li"er rather heat !ith !ine, &han my heart cool !ith mortifying groans$ Why shoul# a man, !hose bloo# is !arm !ithin, Sit like his gran#sire cut in alabasterN Sleep !hen he !akesN an# creep into the jaun#ice %y being pee"ishN ) tell thee !hat, 6nthonioGG) lo"e thee, an# it is my lo"e that speaksLGG&here are a sort of men, !hose "isages 'o cream an# mantle like a stan#ing pon#5 6n# #o a !ilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be #rest in an opinion ?f !is#om, gra"ity, profoun# conceitL 6s !ho shoul# say, ') am Sir ?racle, 6n# !hen ) ope my lips, let no #og bark'4 ?, my 6nthonio, ) #o kno! of these, &hat therefore only are repute# !ise, ,or saying nothingL !ho, ) am "ery sure, )f they shoul# speak, !oul# almost #amn those ears, Which hearing them, !oul# call their brothers fools$ )'ll tell thee more of this another timeL %ut fish not, !ith this melancholy bait, ,or this fool's gu#geon, this opinion$

Gratiano's speech on the philosophy of lo"e, an# the effect of habit in taking off the force of passion, is as full of spirit an# goo# sense$ &he graceful !in#ing up of this play in the fifth act, after the tragic business is #ispatche#, is one of the happiest instances of Shakespeare's kno!le#ge of the principles of the #rama$ We #o not mean the preten#e# Muarrel bet!een Portia an# Berissa an# their husban#s about the rings, !hich is amusing enough, but the con"ersation just before an# after the return of Portia to her o!n house, begining 'Ho! s!eet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank', an# en#ing 'Peace4 ho! the moon sleeps !ith .n#ymion, an# !oul# not be a!ake#'$ &here is a number of beautiful thoughts cro!#e# into that short space, an# linke# together by the most natural transitions$ When !e first !ent to see Dr$ Cean in Shylock !e e/pecte# to see, !hat !e ha# been use# to see, a #ecrepi# ol# man, bent !ith age an# ugly !ith mental #eformity, grinning !ith #ea#ly malice, !ith the "enom of his heart congeale# in the e/pression of his countenance, sullen, morose, gloomy, infle/ible, broo#ing o"er one i#ea, that of his hatre#, an# fi/e# on one unalterable purpose, that of his re"enge$ We !ere #isappointe#, because !e ha# taken our i#ea from other actors, not from the play$ &here is no proof there that Shylock is ol#, but a single line, '%assanic an# ol# Shylock, both stan# forth,'GG!hich #oes not imply that he is infirm !ith ageGGan# the circumstance that he has a #aughter marriageable, !hich #oes not imply that he is ol# at all$ )t !oul# be too much to say that his bo#y shoul# be ma#e crooke# an# #eforme# to ans!er to his min#, !hich is bo!e# #o!n an# !arpe# !ith preju#ices an# passion$ &hat he has but one i#ea, is not trueL he has more i#eas than any other person in the piece5 an# if he is intense an# in"eterate in the pursuit of his purpose, he sho!s the utmost elasticity, "igour, an# presence of min#, in the means of attaining it$ %ut so roote# !as our habitual impression of the part from seeing it caricature# in the representation, that it !as only from a careful perusal of the play itself that !e sa! our error$ &he stage is not in general the best place to stu#y our author's characters in$ )t is too often fille# !ith tra#itional commonGplace conceptions of the part, han#e# #o!n from sire to son, an# suite# to the taste of &H. G0.6& -A>G60 6B' &H. SD6>>$GG''&is an un!ee#e# gar#en5 things rank an# gross #o merely gen#er in it4' )f a man of genius comes once in an age to clear a!ay the rubbish, to make it fruitful an# !holesome, they cry, (&is a ba# school5 it may be like nature, it may be like Shakespeare, but it is not like us$( 6#mirable critics4

&H. W)B&.0'S &6>. We !on#er that Dr$ Pope shoul# ha"e entertaine# #oubts of the genuineness of this play$ He !as, !e suppose, shocke# Ias a certain critic suggestsJ at the Chorus, &ime, leaping o"er si/teen years !ith his crutch bet!een the thir# an# fourth act, an# at 6ntigonus's lan#ing !ith the infant Per#ita on the seacoast of %ohemia$ &hese slips or blemishes, ho!e"er, #o not pro"e it not to be Shakespeare'sL for he !as as likely to fall into them as anybo#yL

but !e #o not kno! anybo#y but himself !ho coul# pro#uce the beauties$ &he S&A,, of !hich the tragic passion is compose#, the romantic s!eetness, the comic humour, are e"i#ently his$ ."en the crabbe# an# tortuous style of the speeches of >eontes, reasoning on his o!n jealousy, beset !ith #oubts an# fears, an# entangle# more an# more in the thorny labyrinth, bears e"ery mark of Shakespeare's peculiar manner of con"eying the painful struggle of #ifferent thoughts an# feelings, labouring for utterance, an# almost strangle# in me birth$ ,or instance5 Ha' not you seen, CamilloN I%ut that's past #oubtL you ha"e, or your eyeGglass )s thicker than a cuckol#'s hornJ or hear#, I,or to a "ision so apparent, rumour Cannot be muteJ or thought Ifor cogitation 0esi#es not !ithin man that #oes not thinkJ Dy !ife is slipperyN )f thou !ilt, confess, ?r else be impu#ently negati"e, &o ha"e nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought$GG Here >eontes is confoun#e# !ith his passion, an# #oes not kno! !hich !ay to turn himself, to gi"e !or#s to the anguish, rage, an# apprehension !hich tug at his breast$ )t is only as he is !orke# up into a clearer con"iction of his !rongs by insisting on the groun#s of his unjust suspicions to Camillo, !ho irritates him by his opposition, that he bursts out into the follo!ing "ehement strain of bitter in#ignation5 yet e"en here his passion staggers, an# is as it !ere oppresse# !ith its o!n intensity$ )s !hispering nothingN )s leaning cheek to cheekN is meeting nosesN Cissing !ith insi#e lipN stopping the career ?f laughter !ith a sighN Ia note infallible ?f breaking honesty4J horsing foot on footN Skulking in cornersN !ishing clocks more s!iftN Hours, minutesN the noon, mi#nightN an# all eyes %lin# !ith the pin an# !eb, but theirsL theirs only, &hat !oul#, unseen, be !icke#N is this nothingN Why then the !orl#, an# all that's in't, is nothing, &he co"ering sky is nothing, %ohemia's nothing, Dy !ife is nothing4 &he character of Hermione is as much #istinguishe# by its saintGlike resignation an# patient forbearance, as that of Paulina is by her zealous an# spirite# remonstrances against the injustice #one to the Mueen, an# by her #e"ote# attachment to her misfortunes$ Hermione's restoration to her husban# an# her chil#, after her long separation from them, is as affecting in itself as it is striking in the representation$ Camillo, an# the ol# shepher# an# his son, are subor#inate but not uninteresting instruments in the #e"elopment of the plot, an# though last, not least, comes 6utolycus, a "ery pleasant, thri"ing rogueL an# I!hat is the best feather in the cap of all kna"eryJ he escapes !ith impunity in the en#$ &H. W)B&.0'S &6>. is one of the bestGacting of our author's plays$ We remember seeing it !ith great pleasure many years ago$ )t !as on the night that Cing took lea"e of the stage, !hen he an# Drs$ @or#an

playe# together in the afterGpiece of &he We##ingG#ay$ Bothing coul# go off !ith more eclat, !ith more spirit, an# gran#eur of effect$ Drs$ Si##ons playe# Hermione, an# in the last scene acte# the painte# statue to the lifeGG!ith true monumental #ignity an# noble passionL Dr$ Cemble, in >eontes, !orke# himself up into a "ery fine classical frenzyL an# %annister, as 6utolycus, roare# as lou# for pity as a stur#y beggar coul# #o !ho felt none of the pain he counterfeite#, an# !as soun# of !in# an# limb$ We shall ne"er see these parts so acte# againL or if !e #i#, it !oul# be in "ain$ 6ctors gro! ol#, or no longer surprise us by their no"elty$ %ut true poetry, like nature, is al!ays youngL an# !e still rea# the courtship of ,lorizel an# Per#ita, as !e !elcome the return of spring, !ith the' same feelings as e"er$ ,lorizel$ &hou #earest Per#ita, With these forc'# thoughts, ) prithee, #arken not &he mirth o' the feast5 or, )'ll be thine, my fair, ?r not my father's5 for ) cannot be Dine o!n, nor anything to any, if ) be not thine$ &o this ) am most constant, &ho' #estiny say$ Bo$ %e merry, gentleL Strangle such thoughts as these, !ith anything &hat you behol# the !hile$ *our guests are coming5 >ift up your countenanceL as it !ere the #ay ?f celebration of that nuptial !hich We t!o ha"e s!orn shall come$ Per#ita$ ? la#y ,ortune, Stan# you auspicious4 .nter Shepher#, Clo!n, Dopsa, 'obcas, Ser"antsL !ith Poli/enes, an# Camillo, #isguise#$ ,lorizel$ See, your guests approach$ 6##ress yourself to entertain them sprightly, 6n# let's be re# !ith mirth$ Shepher#$ ,ie, #aughter4 !hen my ol# !ife li"'#, upon &his #ay, she !as both pantler, butler, cookL %oth #ame an# ser"ant5 !elcom'# all, ser"'# all5 Woul# sing her song, an# #ance her turn5 no! here 6t upper en# o' the table, no! i' the mi##le5 ?n his shoul#er, an# his5 her face o' fire With labourL an# the thing she took to Muench it She !oul# to each one sip$ *ou are retir #, 6s if you !ere a feaste# one, an# not &he hostess of the meeting$ Pray you, bi# &hese unkno!n frien#s to us !elcomeL for it is 6 !ay to make us better frien#s, more kno!n$ Come, Muench your blushesL an# present yourself &hat !hich you are, mistress o' the feast$ Come on, 6n# bi# us !elcome to your sheepGshearing, 6s your goo# flock shall prosper$ Per#ita$ Sir, !elcome4 :&o Poli/enes an# Camillo$= )t is my father's !ill ) shoul# take on me &he hostessGship o' the #ay5 you're !elcome, sir4 Gi"e me those flo!ers there, 'orcas$GG0e"eren# sirs,

,or you there's rosemary an# rueL these keep Seeming, an# sa"our, all the !inter long5 Grace an# remembrance be unto you both 6n# !elcome to our shearing4 Poli/enes$ Shepher#ess, I6 fair one are youJ !ell you fit our ages With flo!ers of !inter$ Per#ita$ Sir, the year gro!ing ancient, Bot yet on summer's #eath, nor on the birth ?f trembling !inter, the fairest flo!ers o' the season 6re our carnations, an# streak'# gillyGflo!ers, Which some call nature's bastar#s5 of that kin# ?ur rustic gar#en's barrenL an# ) care not &o get slips of them$ Poli/enes$ Wherefore, gentle mai#en, 'o you neglect themN Per#ita$ ,or ) ha"e hear# it sai# &here is an art !hich in their pie#ness shares With great creating nature$ Poli/enes$ Say, there be5 *et nature is ma#e better by no mean, %ut nature makes that mean5 so, o'er that art Which, you say, a##s to nature, is an art &hat nature makes$ *ou see, s!eet mai#, !e marry 6 gentler scion to the !il#est stockL 6n# make concei"e a bark of baser kin# %y bu# of nobler race$ &his is an art Which #oes men# nature, change it rather5 but &he art itself is nature$ Per#ita$ So it is$ :,ootnote5 &he la#y, !e here see, gi"es up the argument, but keeps her min#$= Poli/enes$ &hen make your gar#en rich in gillyGflo!ers, 6n# #o not call them bastar#s$ Per#ita$ )'ll not put &he #ibble in earth, to set one slip of themL :,ootnote5 &he la#y, !e here see, gi"es up the argument, but keeps her min#$= Bo more than, !ere ) painte#, ) !oul# !ish &his youth shoul# say, 't!ere !ellL an# only therefore 'esire to bree# by me$GGHere's flo!ers for youL Hot la"en#er, mints, sa"ory, marjoramL &he marigol#, that goes to be# !ith the sun, 6n# !ith him rises, !eeping5 these are flo!ers ?f mi##le summer, an#, ) think, they are gi"en &o men of mi##le age$ *ou are "ery !elcome$ Camillo$ ) shoul# lea"e grazing, !ere ) of your flock, 6n# only li"e by gazing$

Per#ita$ ?ut, alas4 *ou'# be so lean, that blasts of @anuary Woul# blo! you through an# through$ Bo! my fairest frien#s$ ) !oul# ) ha# some flo!ers o' the spring that might %ecome your time of #ayL an# yours, an# yours, &hat !ear upon your "irgin branches yet *our mai#enhea#s gro!ing5 ? Proserpina4 ,or the flo!ers no! that frighte# thou let'st fall ,rom 'is's !aggon4 #affo#ils, &hat come before the s!allo! #ares an# take &he !in#s of Darch !ith beauty5 "iolets #im, %ut s!eeter than the li#s of @uno's eyes, ?r Cytherea's breathL pale primroses, &hat #ie unmarrie#, ere they can behol# %right Phoebus in his strength Ia mala#y Dost inci#ent to mai#sJL bol# o/lips, an# &he cro!nGimperialL lilies of all kin#s, &he fleurG#eGlis being one4 ?, these ) lack &o make you garlan#s ofL an# my s!eet frien# &o stro! him o'er an# o'er$ ,lorizel$ What, like a corseN Per#ita$ Bo, like a bank, for lo"e to lie an# play onL Bot like a corseL or ifGGnot to be burie#, %ut Muick, an# in mine arms$ Come, take your flo!ersL Dethinks, ) play as ) ha"e seen them #o )n Whitsun pastorals5 sure this robe of mine 'oes change my #isposition$ ,lorizel$ What you #o, Still betters !hat is #one$ When you speak, s!eet, )'# ha"e you #o it e"er5 !hen you sing, )'# ha"e you buy an# sell soL so gi"e almsL Pray soL an# for the or#ering your affairs, &o sing them too$ When you #o #ance, ) !ish you 6 !a"e o' the sea, that you might e"er #o Bothing but thatL mo"e still, still so, 6n# o!n no other function$ .ach your #oing, So singular in each particular, Cro!ns !hat you're #oing in the present #ee#s, &hat all your acts are Mueens$ Per#ita$ ? 'oricles, *our praises are too largeL but that your youth 6n# the true bloo#, !hich peeps forth fairly through it, 'o plainly gi"e you out an unstaine# shepher#L With !is#om ) might fear, my 'oricles, *ou !oo'# me the false !ay$ ,lorizel$ ) think you ha"e 6s little skill to fear, as ) ha"e purpose &o put you to't$ %ut come, our #ance, ) pray$ *our han#, my Per#ita5 so turtles pair, &hat ne"er mean to part$ Per#ita$ )'ll s!ear for 'em$

Poli/enes$ &his is the prettiest lo!Gbom lass that e"er 0an on the greenGs!ar#L nothing she #oes, or seems, %ut smacks of something greater than herself, &oo noble for this place$ Camillo$ He tells her something &hat makes her bloo# look out5 goo# sooth she is &he Mueen of cur#s an# cream$ &his #elicious scene is interrupte# by the father of the prince #isco"ering himself to ,lorizel, an# haughtily breaking off the inten#e# match bet!een his son an# Per#ita$ When Poli/enes goes out, Per#ita says, ."en here un#one4 ) !as not much afrai#L for once or t!ice ) !as about to speakL an# tell him plainly &he selfGsame sun that shines upon his court, Hi#es not his "isage from our cottage, but >ooks on't alike$ Wilt please you, sir, be goneN :&o ,lorizel$= ) tol# you !hat !oul# come of this$ %eseech you, ?f your o!n state take careL this #ream of mine, %eing no! a!ake, )'ll Mueen it no inch further, %ut milk my e!es an# !eep$ 6s Per#ita, the suppose# shepher#ess, turns out to be the #aughter of Hermione, an# a princess in #isguise, both feelings of the pri#e of birth an# the claims of nature are satisfie# by the fortunate e"ent of the story, an# the fine romance of poetry is reconcile# to the strictest courtGetiMuette$

6>>'S W.>> &H6& .B'S W.>> 6>>'S W.>> &H6& .B'S W.>> is one of the most pleasing of our author's come#ies$ &he interest is, ho!e"er, more of a serious than of a comic nature$ &he character of Helen is one of great s!eetness an# #elicacy$ She is place# in circumstances of the most critical kin#, an# has to court her husban# both as a "irgin an# a !ife5 yet the most scrupulous nicety of female mo#esty is not once "iolate#$ &here is not one thought or action that ought to bring a blush into her cheeks, or that for a moment lessens her in our esteem$ Perhaps the romantic attachment of a beautiful an# "irtuous girl to one place# abo"e her hopes by the circumstances of birth an# fortune, !as ne"er so e/Muisitely e/presse# as in the reflections !hich she utters !hen young 0oussillon lea"es his mother's house, un#er !hose protection she has been brought up !ith him, to repair to the ,rench king's court$ Helena$ ?h, !ere that allGG) think not on my father, 6n# these great tears grace his remembrance more

&han those ) she# for him$ What !as he likeN ) ha"e forgot him$ Dy imagination Carries no fa"our in it, but %ertram's$ ) am un#one, there is no li"ing, none, )f %ertram be a!ay$ )t !ere all one &hat ) shoul# lo"e a bright particular star, 6n# think to !e# itL he is so abo"e me5 )n his bright ra#iance an# collateral light Dust ) be comforte#, not in his sphere$ &h' ambition in my lo"e thus plagues itselfL &he hin# that !oul# be mate# by the lion, Dust #ie for lo"e$ '&!as pretty, tho' a plague, &o see him e"ery hour, to sit an# #ra! His arche# bro!s, his ha!king eye, his curls )n our heart's table5 heart too capable ?f e"ery line an# trick of his s!eet fa"our$ %ut no! he's gone, an# my i#olatrous fancy Dust sanctify his relics$ &he interest e/cite# by this beautiful picture of a kin# an# innocent heart is kept up after!ar#s by her resolution to follo! him to ,rance, the success of her e/periment in restoring the king's health, her #eman#ing %ertram in marriage as a recompense, his lea"ing her in #is#ain, her inter"ie! !ith him after!ar#s #isguise# as 'iana, a young la#y !hom he importunes !ith his secret a##resses, an# their final reconciliation !hen the conseMuences of her stratagem an# the proofs of her lo"e are fully ma#e kno!n$ &he perse"ering gratitu#e of the ,rench king to his benefactress, !ho cures him of a languishing #istemper by a prescription here#itary in her family, the in#ulgent kin#ness of the Countess, !hose pri#e of birth yiel#s, almost !ithout struggle, to her affection for Helen, the honesty an# uprightness of the goo# ol# lor# >afeu, make "ery interesting parts of the picture$ &he !ilful stubbornness an# youthful petulance of %ertram are also "ery a#mirably #escribe#$ &he comic part of the play turns on the folly, boasting, an# co!ar#ice of Parolles, a parasite an# hangerGon of %ertram's, the #etection of !hose false pretensions to bra"ery an# honour forms a "ery amusing episo#e$ He is first foun# out by the ol# lor# >afeu, !ho says, '&he soul of this man is in his clothes'L an# it is pro"e# after!ar#s that his heart is in his tongue, an# that both are false an# hollo!$ &he a#"enture of'the bringing off of his #rum' has become pro"erbial as a satire on all ri#iculous an# blustering un#ertakings !hich the person ne"er means to perform5 nor can anything be more se"ere than !hat one of the bystan#ers remarks upon !hat Parolles says of himself, ')s it possible he shoul# kno! !hat he is, an# be that he isN' *et Parolles himself gi"es the best solution of the #ifficulty after!ar#s !hen he is thankful to escape !ith his life an# the loss of characterL for, so that he can li"e on, he is by no means sMueamish about the loss of pretensions, to !hich he ha# sense enough to kno! he ha# no real claims, an# !hich he ha# assume# only as a means to li"e$ Parolles$ *et ) am thankfulL if my heart !ere great, '&!oul# burst at this$ Captain )'ll be no more, %ut ) !ill eat an# #rink, an# sleep as soft 6s captain shall$ Simply the thing ) am Shall make me li"eL !ho kno!s himself a braggart,

>et him fear thisL for it shall come to pass, &hat e"ery braggart shall be foun# an ass$ 0ust s!or#, cool blushes, an# Parolles li"e Safest in shameL being fooi'#, by fool'ry thri"eL &here's place an# means for e"ery man ali"e$ )'ll after them$ &he story of 6>>'S W.>> &H6& .B'S W.>>, an# of se"eral others of Shakespeare's plays, is taken from %occaccio$ &he poet has #ramatize# the original no"el !ith great skill an# comic spirit, an# has preser"e# all the beauty of character an# sentiment !ithout impro"ing upon it, !hich !as impossible$ &here is in#ee# in %occaccio's serious pieces a truth, a pathos, an# an e/Muisite refinement of sentiment, !hich is har#ly to be met !ith in any other prose !riter !hate"er$ @ustice has not been #one him by the !orl#$ He has in general passe# for a mere narrator of lasci"ious tales or i#le jests$ &his character probably originate# in his obno/ious attacks on the monks, an# has been kept up by the grossness of mankin#, !ho re"enge# their o!n !ant of refinement on %occaccio, an# only sa! in his !ritings !hat suite# the coarseness of their o!n tastes$ %ut the truth is, that he has carrie# sentiment of e"ery kin# to its "ery highest purity an# perfection$ %y sentiment !e !oul# here un#erstan# the habitual !orkings of some one po!erful feeling, !here the heart reposes almost entirely upon itself, !ithout the "iolent e/citement of opposing #uties or, unto!ar# circumstances$ )n this !ay, nothing e"er came up to the story of ,re#erigo 6lberigi an# his ,alcon$ &he perse"erance in attachment, the spirit of gallantry an# generosity #isplaye# in it, has no parallel in the history of heroical sacrifices$ &he feeling is so unconscious too, an# in"oluntary, is brought out in such small, unlooke#Gfor, an# unostentatious circumstances, as to sho! it to ha"e been !o"en into the "ery nature an# soul of the author$ &he story of )sabella is scarcely less fine an# is more affecting in the circumstances an# in the catastrophe$ 'ry#en has #one justice to the impassione# eloMuence of the &ancre# an# Sigismun#aL but has not gi"en an a#eMuate i#ea of the !il# preternatural interest of the story of Honoria$ Cimon an# )phigene is by no means one of the best, not!ithstan#ing the popularity of the subject$ &he proof of unalterable affection gi"en in the story of @eronymo, an# the simple touches of nature an# picturesMue beauty in the story of the t!o holi#ay lo"ers, !ho !ere poisone# by tasting of a leaf in the gar#en at ,lorence, are perfect masterpieces$ &he epithet of 'i"ine !as !ell besto!e# on this great painter of the human heart$ &he in"ention implie# in his #ifferent tales is immense5 but !e are not to infer that it is all his o!n$ He probably a"aile# himself of all the common tra#itions !hich !ere floating in his time, an# !hich he !as the first to appropriate$ Homer appears the most original of all authorsGGprobably for no other reason than that !e can trace the plagiarism no further$ %occaccio has furnishe# subjects to numberless !riters since his time, both #ramatic an# narrati"e$ &he story of Grisel#a is borro!e# from his '.C6D.0?B by ChaucerL as is the CB)GH&'S &6>. IPalamon an# 6rciteJ from his poem of the &H.S.)'$

>?-.'S >6%?A0'S >?S& )f !e !ere to part !ith any of the author's come#ies, it shoul# be this$ *et !e shoul# be loth to part !ith 'on 6#riano #e 6rma#o, that mighty potentate of nonsense, or his page, that han#ful of !itL !ith Bathaniel the curate, or Holofernes the schoolmaster, an# their #ispute after #inner on 'the gol#en ca#ences of poesy'L !ith Costar# the clo!n, or 'ull the constable$ %iron is too accomplishe# a character to be lost to the !orl#, an# yet he coul# not appear !ithout his fello! courtiers an# the king5 an# if !e !ere to lea"e out the la#ies, the gentlemen !oul# ha"e no mistresses$ So that !e belie"e !e may let the !hole play stan# as it is, an# !e shall har#ly "enture to 'set a mark of reprobation on it'$ Still !e ha"e some objections to the style, !hich !e think sa"ours more of the pe#antic spirit of Shakespeare's time than of his o!n geniusL more of contro"ersial #i"inity, an# the logic of Peter >ombar#, than of the inspiration of the Duse$ )t transports us Muite as much to the manners of the court, an# the Muirks of courts of la!, as to the scenes of nature or the fairylan# of his o!n imagination$ Shakespeare has set himself to imitate the tone of polite con"ersation then pre"ailing among the fair, the !itty, an# the learne#, an# he has imitate# it but too faithfully$ )t is as if the han# of &itian ha# been employe# to gi"e grace to the curls of a fullGbottome# peri!ig, or 0aphael ha# attempte# to gi"e e/pression to the tapestry figures in the House of >or#s$ Shakespeare has put an e/cellent #escription of this fashionable jargon into the mouth of the critical Holofernes 'as too picke#, too spruce, too affecte#, too o##, as it !ere, too peregrinate, as ) may call it'L an# nothing can be more marke# than the #ifference !hen he breaks loose from the trammels he ha# impose# on himself, 'as light as bir# from brake', an# speaks in his o!n person$ We think, for instance, that in the follo!ing soliloMuy the poet has fairly got the start of Fueen .lizabeth an# her mai#s of honourL %iron$ ?4 an# ) forsooth in lo"e, ) that ha"e been lo"e's !hipL 6 "ery bea#le to an amorous sigh5 6 criticL nay, a nightG!atch constable, 6 #omineering pe#ant o'er the boy, &han !hom no mortal more magnificent$ &his !himple#, !hining, purblin#, !ay!ar# boy, &his signior @unio, giant #!arf, 'an Cupi#, 0egent of lo"eGrimes, lor# of fol#e# arms, &h' anointe# so"ereign of sighs an# groans5 >iege of all loiterers an# malcontents, 'rea# prince of plackets$ king of co#pieces, Sole imperator, an# great general ?f trotting parators I? my little heart4J 6n# ) to be a corporal of his fiel#, 6n# !ear his colours like a tumbler's hoop4 WhatN ) lo"e4 ) sue4 ) seek a !ife4 6 !oman, that is like a German clock, Still a repairingL e"er out of frameL 6n# ne"er going aright, being a !atch, 6n# being !atch'#, that it may still go rightN Bay, to be perjur'#, !hich is !orst of all5 6n# among three to lo"e the !orst of all, 6 !hitely !anton !ith a "el"et bro!, With t!o pitch balls stuck in her face for eyesL 6y, an# by hea"'n, one that !ill #o the #ee#, &hough 6rgus !ere her eunuch an# her guar#L 6n# ) to sigh for her4 to !atch for her4 &o pray for her4 Go toL it is a plague &hat Cupi# !ill impose for my neglect ?f his almighty #rea#ful little might$ Well, ) !ill lo"e, !rite, sigh, pray, sue, an# groan5 Some men must lo"e my la#y, an# some @oan$

&he character of %iron #ra!n by 0osaline an# that !hich %iron gi"es of %oyet are eMually happy$ &he obser"ations on the use an# abuse of stu#y, an# on the po!er of beauty to Muicken the un#erstan#ing as !ell as the senses, are e/cellent$ &he scene !hich has the greatest #ramatic effect is that in !hich %iron, the king, >onga"ille, an# 'umain, successi"ely #etect each other an# are #etecte# in their breach of their "o! an# in their profession of attachment to their se"eral mistresses, in !hich they suppose themsel"es to be o"erhear# by no one$ &he reconciliation bet!een these lo"ers an# their s!eethearts is also "ery goo#, an# the penance !hich 0osaline imposes on %iron, before he can e/pect to gain her consent to marry him, full of propriety an# beauty$ 0osaline$ ?ft ha"e ) hear# of you, my lor# %iron, %efore ) sa! you5 an# the !orl#'s large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete !ith mocksL ,ull of comparisons, an# !oun#ing floutsL Which you on all estates !ill e/ecute, &hat lie !ithin the mercy of your !it$ &o !ee# this !orm!oo# from your faithful brainL 6n# there!ithal to !in me, if you please, IWithout the !hich ) am not to be !onJ *ou shall this t!el"emonth term from #ay to #ay -isit the speechless sick, an# still con"erse With groaning !retchesL an# your task shall be, With all the fierce en#ea"our of your !it, &' enforce the paine# impotent to smile$ %iron$ &o mo"e !il# laughter in the throat of #eathN )t cannot be5 it is impossible5 Dirth cannot mo"e a soul in agony$ 0osaline$ Why, that's the !ay to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallo! laughing hearers gi"e to foolsL 6 jest's prosperity lies in the ear ?f him that hears itL ne"er in the tongue ?f him that makes it5 then, if sickly ears, 'eaf'# !ith the clamours of their o!n #ear groans, Will hear your i#le scorns, continue then, 6n# ) !ill ha"e you, an# that fault !ithalL %ut, if they !ill not, thro! a!ay that spirit, 6n# ) shall fin# you empty of that fault, 0ight joyful of your reformation$ %iron$ 6 t!el"emonthN Well, befall !hat !ill befall, )'ll jest a t!el"emonth in an hospital$ &he famous cuckooGsong closes the playL but !e shall a## no more criticisms5 'the !or#s of Dercury are harsh after the songs of 6pollo'$

DACH 6'? 6%?A& B?&H)BG &his a#mirable come#y use# to be freMuently acte# till of late years$ Dr$ Garrick's %ene#ick !as one of his most celebrate# charactersL an# Drs$ @or#an, !e ha"e un#erstoo#, playe# %eatrice "ery #elightfully$ &he serious part is still the most prominent here, as in other instances that !e ha"e notice#$ Hero is the principal figure in the piece, an# lea"es an in#elible impression on

the min# by her beauty, her ten#erness, an# the har# trial of her lo"e$ &he passage in !hich Clau#io first makes a confession of his affection to!ar#s her con"eys as pleasing an image of the entrance of lo"e into a youthful bosom as can !ell be imagine#$ ?h, my lor#, When you !ent on!ar# !ith this en#e# action, ) look'# upon her !ith a sol#ier's eye, &hat lik'#, but ha# a rougher task in han# &han to #ri"e liking to the name of lo"eL %ut no! ) am return'#, an# that !arGthoughts Ha"e left their places "acantL in their rooms Come thronging soft an# #elicate #esires, 6ll prompting me ho! fair young Hero is, Saying, ) lik'# her ere ) !ent to !ars$ )n the scene at the altar, !hen Clau#io, urge# on by the "illain 'on @ohn, brings the charge of incontinence against her, an# as it !ere #i"orces her in the "ery marriageGceremony, her appeals to her o!n conscious innocence an# honour are ma#e !ith the most affecting simplicity$ Clau#io$ Bo, >eonato, ) ne"er tempte# her !ith !or# too large, %ut, as a brother to his sister, sho!'# %ashful sincerity, an# comely lo"e$ Hero$ 6n# seem'# ) e"er other!ise to youN Clau#io$ ?ut on thy seeming, ) !ill !rite against it5 *ou seem to me as 'ian in her orb, 6s chaste as is the bu# ere it be blo!nL %ut you are more intemperate in your bloo# &han -eilus, or those pamper'# animals &hat rage in sa"age sensuality$ Hero$ )s my lor# !ell, that he #oth speak so !i#eN >eonato$ 6re these things spoken, or #o ) but #reamN @ohn$ Sir, they are spoken, an# these things are true$ %ene#ick$ &his looks not like a nuptial$ Hero$ &rue4 ? Go#4 &he justification of Hero in the en#, an# her restoration to the confi#ence an# arms of her lo"er, is brought about by one of those temporary consignments to the gra"e of !hich Shakespeare seems to ha"e been fon#$ He has perhaps e/plaine# the theory of this pre#ilection in the follo!ing lines5 ,riar$ She #ying, as it must be so maintain'#, Apon the instant that she !as accus'#, Shall be lamente#, pity'#, an# e/cus'#, ?f e"ery hearer5 for it so falls out, &hat !hat !e ha"e !e prize not to the !orth,

While !e enjoy itL but being lack'# an# lost, Why then !e rack the "alueL then !e fin# &he "irtue, that possession !oul# not sho! us Whilst it !as ours$GGSo !ill it fare !ith Clau#ioL When he shall hear she #y'# upon his !or#s, &he i#ea of her lo"e shall s!eetly creep )nto his stu#y of imaginationL 6n# e"ery lo"ely organ of her life Shall come apparel'# in more precious habit, Dore mo"ing, #elicate, an# full of life, )nto the eye an# prospect of his soul, &han !hen she li"'# in#ee#$ &he principal comic characters in DACH 6'? 6%?A& B?&H)BG, %ene#ick an# %eatrice, are both essences in their kin#$ His character as a !omanGhater is a#mirably supporte#, an# his con"ersion to matrimony is no less happily effecte# by the preten#e# story of %eatrice's lo"e for him$ )t is har# to say !hich of the t!o scenes is the best, that of the trick !hich is thus practise# on %ene#ick, or that in !hich %eatrice is pre"aile# on to take pity on him by o"erhearing her cousin an# her mai# #eclare I!hich they #o on purposeJ that he is #ying of lo"e for her$ &here is something #elightfully picturesMue in the manner in !hich %eatrice is #escribe# as coming to hear the plot !hich is contri"e# against herself5 ,or look !here %eatrice, like a lap!ing, runs Close by the groun#, to hear our conference$ )n conseMuence of !hat she hears Inot a !or# of !hich s trueJ she e/claims !hen these goo#Gnature# informants are gone5 What fire is in mine earsN Can this be trueN Stan# ) con#emn'# for pri#e an# scorn so muchN Contempt, fare!ell4 an# mai#en pri#e a#ieu4 Bo glory li"es behin# the back of such$ 6n#, %ene#ick, lo"e on, ) !ill reMuite theeL &aming my !il# heart to thy lo"ing han#L )f thou #ost lo"e, my kin#ness shall incite thee &o bin# our lo"es up in an holy ban#5 ,or others say thou #ost #eser"eL an# ) %elie"e it better than reportingly$ 6n# %ene#ick, on his part, is eMually sincere in his repentance !ith eMual reason, after he has hear# the greyGbear#, >eonato, an# his frien#, 'Donsieur >o"e', #iscourse of the #esperate state of his suppose# inamorata$ &his can be no trickL the conference !as sa#ly borne$GG&hey ha"e the truth of this from Hero$ &hey seem to pity the la#yL it seems her affections ha"e the full bent$ >o"e me4 !hy, it must be reMuite#$ ) hear ho! ) am censur'#5 they say, ) !ill bear myself prou#ly, if ) percei"e the lo"e come from herL they say too, that she !ill rather #ie than gi"e any sign of affection$GG) #i# ne"er think to marryL ) must not seem prou#5GGhappy are they that hear their #etractions, an# can put them to men#ing$ &hey say, the la#y is fairL 'tis a truth, ) can bear them !itness5 an# "irGtuousLGG'tis so, ) cannot repro"e itL an# !iseGGbut for lo"ing meLGGby my troth it is no

a##ition to her !itLGGnor no great argument of her folly, for ) !ill be horribly in lo"e !ith her$GG) may chance to ha"e some o## Muirks an# remnants of !it broken on me, because ) ha"e rail'# so long against marriage5 but #oth not the appetite alterN 6 man lo"es the meat in his youth, that he cannot en#ure in his age$GGShall Muips, an# sentences, an# these paper bullets of the brain, a!e a man from the career of his humourN Bo5 the !orl# must be people#$ When ) sai#, ) !oul# #ie a bachelor, ) #i# not think ) shoul# li"e till ) !ere marry'#$GGHere comes %eatriceL by this #ay, she's a fair la#y5 ) #o spy some marks of lo"e in her$ &he beauty of all this arises from the characters of the persons so entrappe#$ %ene#ick is a professe# an# staunch enemy to marriage, an# gi"es "ery plausible reasons for the faith that is in him$ 6n# as to %eatrice, she persecutes him all #ay !ith her jests Iso that he coul# har#ly think of being trouble# !ith them at nightJ, she not only turns him but all other things into jest, an# is proof against e"erything serious$ Hero$ 'is#ain an# scorn ri#e sparkling in her eyes, Disprising !hat they look onL an# her !it -alues itself so highly, that to her 6ll matter else seems !eak5 she cannot lo"e, Bor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so selfGen#eare#$ Arsula$ Sure, ) think soL 6n# therefore, certainly, it !ere not goo# She kne! his lo"e, lest she make sport at it$ Hero$ Why, you speak truth5 ) ne"er yet sa! man, Ho! !ise, ho! noble, young, ho! rarely featur'#, %ut she !oul# spell him back!ar#5 if fairGfac'#, She'# s!ear the gentleman shoul# be her sisterL )f black, !hy, nature, #ra!ing of an antick, Da#e a foul blot5 if tall, a lance illGhea#e#L )f lo!, an agate "ery "ilely cut5 )f speaking, !hy, a "ane blo!n !ith all !in#sL )f silent, !hy, a block mo"e# !ith none$ So turns she e"ery man the !rong si#e outL 6n# ne"er gi"es to truth an# "irtue that Which simpleness an# merit purchaseth$ &hese !ere happy materials for Shakespeare to !ork on, an# he has ma#e a happy use of them$ Perhaps that mi##le point of come#y !as ne"er more nicely hit in !hich the lu#icrous blen#s !ith the ten#er, an# our follies, turning roun# against themsel"es in support of our affections, retain nothing but their humanity$ 'ogberry an# -erges in this play are inimitable specimens of Muaint blun#ering an# misprisions of meaningL an# are a stan#ing recor# of that formal gra"ity of pretension an# total !ant of common un#erstan#ing, !hich Shakespeare no #oubt copie# from real life, an# !hich in the course of t!o hun#re# years appear to ha"e ascen#e# from the lo!est to the highest offices in the state$

6S *?A >)C. )& Shakespeare has here con"erte# the forest of 6r#en into another 6rca#ia, !here they 'fleet the time carelessly, as they #i# in the gol#en !orl#'$ )t is the most i#eal of any of this author's plays$ )t is a pastoral #rama in !hich the interest arises more out of the sentiments an# characters than out of the actions or situations$ )t is not !hat is #one, but !hat is sai#, that claims our attention$ Burse# in solitu#e, 'un#er the sha#e of melancholy boughs', the imagination gro!s soft an# #elicate, an# the !it runs riot in i#leness, like a spoile# chil# that is ne"er sent to school$ Caprice is an# fancy reign an# re"el here, an# stern necessity is banishe# to the court$ &he mil# sentiments of humanity are strengthene# !ith thought an# leisureL the echo of the cares an# noise of the !orl# strikes upon the ear of those '!ho ha"e felt them kno!ingly', softene# by time an# #istance$ '&hey hear the tumult, an# are still$' &he "ery air of the place seems to breathe a spirit of philosophical poetryL to stir the thoughts, to touch the heart !ith pity, as the #ro!sy forest rustles to the sighing gale$ Be"er !as there such beautiful moralizing, eMually free from pe#antry or petulance$ 6n# this their life, e/empt from public haunts, ,in#s tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, an# goo# in e"erything$ @aMues is the only purely contemplati"e character in Shakespeare$ He thinks, an# #oes nothing$ His !hole occupation is to amuse his min#, an# he is totally regar#less of his bo#y an# his fortunes$ He is the prince of philosophical i#lersL his only passion is thoughtL he sets no "alue upon anything but as it ser"es as foo# for reflection$ He can 'suck melancholy out of a song, as a !easel sucks eggs'L the motley fool, '!ho morals on the time', is the greatest prize he meets !ith in the forest$ He resents ?rlan#o's passion for 0osalin# as some #isparagement of his o!n passion for abstract truthL an# lea"es the 'uke, as soon as he is restore# to his so"ereignty, to seek his brother out, !ho has Muitte# it, an# turne# hermit$ GG?ut of these con"ertites &here is much matter to be hear# an# learnt$ Within the seMuestere# an# romantic gla#es of the ,orest of 6r#en, they fin# leisure to be goo# an# !ise, or to play the fool an# fall in lo"e$ 0osalin#'s character is ma#e up of sporti"e gaiety an# natural ten#erness5 her tongue runs the faster to conceal the pressure at her heart$ She talks herself out of breath, only to get #eeper in lo"e$ &he coMuetry !ith !hich she plays !ith her lo"er in the #ouble character !hich she has to support is manage# !ith the nicest a##ress$ Ho! ,ull of "oluble, laughing grace is all her con"ersation !ith ?rlan#o5 GG)n hee#less mazes running With !anton haste an# gi##y cunning$

Ho! full of real fon#ness an# preten#e# cruelty is her ans!er to him !hen he promises to lo"e her ',or e"er an# a #ay'4 Say a #ay !ithout the e"er5 no, no, ?rlan#o, men are 6pril !hen they !oo, 'ecember !hen they !e#5 mai#s are Day !hen they are mai#s, but the sky changes !hen they are !i"es5 ) !ill be more jealous of thee than a %arbary cockGpigeon o"er his henL more clamorous than a parrot against rainL more ne!fangle# than an apeL more gi##y in my #esires than a monkeyL ) !ill !eep for nothing, like 'iana in the fountain, an# ) !ill #o that !hen you are #ispose# to be merryL ) !ill laugh like a hyen, an# that !hen you are incline# to sleep$ ?rlan#o$ %ut !ill my 0osalin# #o soN 0osalin#$ %y my life she !ill #o as ) #o$ &he silent an# retire# character of Celia is a necessary relief to the pro"oking loMuacity of 0osalin#, nor can anything be better concei"e# or more beautifully #escribe# than the mutual affection bet!een the t!o cousins5 GGWe still ha"e slept together, 0ose at an instant, learn'#, play'#, eat together, 6n# !heresoe'er !e !ent, like @uno's s!ans, Still !e !ent couple# an# inseparable$ &he unreMuite# lo"e of Sil"ius for Phebe sho!s the per"ersity of this passion in the commonest scenes of life, an# the rubs an# stops !hich nature thro!s in its !ay, !here fortune has place# none$ &ouchstone is not in lo"e, but he !ill ha"e a mistress as a subject for the e/ercise of his grotesMue humour, an# to sho! his contempt for the passion, by his in#ifference about the person$ He is a rare fello!$ He is a mi/ture of the ancient cynic philosopher !ith the mo#ern buffoon, an# turns folly into !it, an# !it into folly, just as the fit takes him$ His courtship of 6u#rey not only thro!s a #egree of ri#icule on the state of !e#lock itself, but he is eMually an enemy to the preju#ices of opinion in other respects$ &he lofty tone of enthusiasm, !hich the 'uke an# his companions in e/ile sprea# o"er the stillness an# solitu#e of a country life, recei"es a pleasant shock from &ouchstone's sceptical #etermination of the Muestion$ Corin$ 6n# ho! like you this shepher#'s life, Dr$ &ouchstoneN Clo!n$ &ruly, shepher#, in respect of itself, it is a goo# lifeL but in respect that it is a shepher#'s life, it is naught$ )n respect that it is solitary, ) like it "ery !ellL but in respect that it is pri"ate, it is a "ery "ile life$ Bo! in respect it is in the fiel#s, it pleaseth me !ellL but in respect it is not in the court, it is te#ious$ 6s it is a spare life, took you, it fits my humourL but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach$ Eimmennan's celebrate# !ork on Solitu#e #isco"ers only half the sense of this passage$

&here is har#ly any of Shakespeare's plays that contains a greater number of passages that ha"e been Muote# in books of e/tracts, or a greater number of phrases that ha"e become in a manner pro"erbial$ )f !e !ere to gi"e all the striking passages, !e shoul# gi"e half the play$ We !ill only recall a fe! of the most #elightful to the rea#er's recollection$ Such are the meeting bet!een ?rlan#o an# 6#am, the e/Muisite appeal of ?rlan#o to the humanity of the 'uke an# his company to supply him !ith foo# for the ol# man, an# their ans!er, the 'uke's #escription of a country life, an# the account of @aMues moralizing on the !oun#e# #eer, his meeting !ith &ouchstone in the forest, his apology for his o!n melancholy an# his satirical "ein, an# the !ellGkno!n speech on the stages of human life, the ol# song of '%lo!, blo!, thou !inter's !in#', 0osalin#'s #escription of the marks of a lo"er an# of the progress of time !ith #ifferent persons, the picture of the snake !reathe# roun# ?li"er's neck !hile the lioness !atches her sleeping prey, an# &ouchstone's lecture to the shepher#, his #efence of cuckol#s, an# panegyric on the "irtues of 'an )f$GG6ll of these are familiar to the rea#er5 there is one passage of eMual #elicacy an# beauty !hich may ha"e escape# him, an# !ith it !e shall close our account of 6s *ou >ike it$ )t is Phebe's #escription of Ganime# at the en# of the thir# act$ &hink not ) lo"e him, tho' ) ask for himL &is but a pee"ish boy, yet he talks !ellLGG %ut !hat care ) for !or#s4 yet !or#s #o !ell, When he that speaks them pleases those that hearL )t is a pretty youthL not "ery prettyL %ut sure he's prou#, an# yet his pri#e becomes himL He'll make a proper manL the best thing in him )s his comple/ionL an# faster than his tongue 'i# make offence, his eye #i# heal it up5 He is not "ery tall, yet for his years he's tallL His leg is but so so, an# yet'tis !ellL &here !as a pretty re#ness in his lip, 6 little riper, an# more lusty re# &han that mi/'# in his cheekL 't!as just the #ifference %et!i/t the constant re# an# mingle# #amask$ &here be some !omen, Sil"ius, ha# they mark'# him )n parcels as ) #i#, !oul# ha"e gone near &o fall in lo"e !ith him5 but for my part ) lo"e him not, nor hate him notL an# yet ) ha"e more cause to hate him than to lo"e himL ,or !hat ha# he to #o to chi#e at meN

&H. &6D)BG ?, &H. SH0.W &H. &6D)BG ?, &H. SH0.W is almost the only one of Shakespeare's come#ies that has a regular plot, an# #o!nright moral$ )t is full of bustle, animation, an# rapi#ity of action$ )t sho!s a#mirably ho! selfG!ill is only to be got the better of by stronger !ill, an# ho! one #egree of ri#iculous per"ersity is only to be #ri"en out by another still greater$ Petruchio is a ma#man in his sensesL a "ery

honest fello!, !ho har#ly speaks a !or# of truth, an# succee#s in all his tricks an# impostures$ He acts his assume# character to the life, !ith the most fantastical e/tra"agance, !ith complete presence of min#, !ith untire# animal spirits, an# !ithout a particle of ill humour from beginning to en#$GG&he situation of poor Catherine, !orn out by his incessant persecutions, becomes at last almost as pitiable as it is lu#icrous, an# it is #ifficult to say !hich to a#mire most, the unaccountableness of his actions, or the unalterableness of his resolutions$ )t is a character !hich most husban#s ought to stu#y, unless perhaps the "ery au#acity of Petruchio's attempt might alarm them more than his success !oul# encourage them$ What a soun# must the follo!ing speech carry to some marrie# ears4 &hink you a little #in can #aunt my earsN Ha"e ) not in my time hear# lions roarN Ha"e ) not hear# the sea, puff'# up !ith !in#s, 0age like an angry boar, chafe# !ith s!eatN Ha"e ) not hear# great or#nance in the fiel#N 6n# hea"'n's artillery thun#er in the skiesN Ha"e ) not in a pitche# battle hear# >ou# larums, neighing stee#s, an# trumpets clangN 6n# #o you tell me of a !oman's tongue, &hat gi"es not half so great a blo! to hear, 6s !ill a chestnut in a farmer's fireN Bot all Petruchio's rhetoric !oul# persua#e more than 'some #ozen follo!ers' to be of this heretical !ay of thinking$ He unfol#s his scheme for the &aming of the Shre!, on a principle of contra#iction, thus5 )'ll !oo her !ith some spirit !hen she comes$ Say that she rail, !hy then )'ll tell her plain She sings as s!eetly as a nightingaleL Say that she fro!n, )'ll say she looks as clear 6s morning roses ne!ly !ash'# !ith #e!L Say she be mute, an# !ill not speak a !or#, &hen )'ll commen# her "olubility, 6n# say she uttereth piercing eloMuence5 )f she #o bi# me pack, )'ll gi"e her thanks, 6s tho' she bi# me stay by her a !eekL )f she #eny to !e#, )'ll cra"e the #ay, When ) shall ask the banns, an# !hen be marrie#$ He accor#ingly gains her consent to the match, by telling her father that he has got itL #isappoints her by not returning at the time he has promise# to !e# her, an# !hen he returns, creates no small consternation by the o##ity of his #ress an# eMuipage$ &his ho!e"er is nothing to the astonishment e/cite# by his ma#braine# beha"iour at the marriage$ Here is the account of it by an eyeG!itness5 Gremio$ &ut, she's a lamb, a #o"e, a fool to himL )'ll tell you$ Sir >ucentioL !hen the priest Shoul# ask if Catherine shoul# be his !ifeN 6y, by gogs !oons, Muoth heL an# s!ore so lou#, &hat, all amaz'#, the priest let fall the bookL

6n# as he stoope# again to take it up, &his ma#Gbrain'# bri#egroom took him such a cuff, &hat #o!n fell priest an# book, an# book an# priest$ Bo! take them up, Muoth he, if any list$ &ronio$ What sai# the !ench !hen he rose up againN Gremio$ &remble# an# shookL for !hy, he stamp'# an# s!ore, 6s if the "icar meant to cozen him$ %ut after many ceremonies #one, He calls for !ineL a health, Muoth heL as if He'# been aboar# carousing !ith his mates 6fter a stormL Muaft off the musca#el, 6n# thre! the sops all in the se/ton's faceL Ha"ing no other cause but that his bear# Gre! thin an# hungerly, an# seem'# to ask His sops as he !as #rinking$ &his #one, he took &he bri#e about the neck, an# kiss'# her lips With such a clamorous smack, that at their parting 6ll the church echoe#L an# ) seeing this, Came thence for "ery shameL an# after me, ) kno!, the rout is comingLGG Such a ma# marriage ne"er !as before$ &he most striking an# at the same time laughable feature in the character of Petruchio throughout, is the stu#ie# appro/imation to the intractable character of real ma#ness, his apparent insensibility to all e/ternal consi#erations, an# utter in#ifference to e"erything but the !il# an# e/tra"agant freaks of his o!n selfG !ill$ &here is no conten#ing !ith a person on !hom nothing makes any impression but his o!n purposes, an# !ho is bent on his o!n !hims just in proportion as they seem to !ant commonGsense$ With him a thing's being plain an# reasonable is a reason against it$ &he airs he gi"es himself are infinite, an# his caprices as su##en as they are groun#less$ &he !hole of his treatment of his !ife at home is in the same spirit of ironical attention an# in"erte# gallantry$ ."erything flies before his !ill, like a conjurer's !an#, an# he only metamorphoses his !ife's temper by metamorphosing her senses an# all the objects she sees, at a !or#'s speaking$ Such are his insisting that it is the moon an# not the sun !hich they see, Oc$ &his e/tra"agance reaches its most pleasant an# poetical height in the scene !here, on their return to her father's, they meet ol# -incentio, !hom Petruchio imme#iately a##resses as a young la#y5 Petruchio$ Goo# morro!, gentle mistress, !here a!ayN &ell me, s!eet Cate, an# tell me truly too, Hast thou behel# a fresher gentle!omanN Such !ar of !hite an# re# !ithin her cheeksL What stars #o spangle hea"en !ith such beauty, 6s those t!o eyes become that hea"'nly faceN ,air lo"ely mai#, once more goo# #ay to thee5 S!eet Cate, embrace her for her beauty's sake$ Hortensio$ He'll make the man ma# to make a !oman of him$ Catherine$ *oung bu##ing "irgin, fair an# fresh an# s!eet, Whither a!ay, or !here is thy abo#eN

Happy the parents of so fair a chil#L Happier the man !hom fa"ourable stars 6llot thee for his lo"ely be#Gfello!$ Petruchio$ Why, ho! no!, Cate, ) hope thou art not ma#5 &his is a man, ol#, !rinkle#, fa#e#, !ither'#, 6n# not a mai#en, as thou say'st he is$ Catherine$ Par#on, ol# father, my mistaken eyes &hat ha"e been so be#aze# !ith the sun &hat e"erything ) look on seemeth green$ Bo! ) percei"e thou art a re"eren# father$ &he !hole is carrie# on !ith eMual spirit, as if the poet's comic Duse ha# !ings of fire$ )t is strange ho! one man coul# be so many thingsL but so it is$ &he conclu#ing scene, in !hich trial is ma#e of the obe#ience of the ne!Gmarrie# !i"es Iso triumphantly for PetruchioJ, is a "ery happy one$GG)n some parts of this play there is a little too much about musicGmasters an# masters of philosophy$ &hey !ere things of greater rarity in those #ays than they are no!$ Bothing, ho!e"er, can be better than the a#"ice !hich &ranio gi"es his master for the prosecution of his stu#ies5 &he mathematics, an# the metaphysics, ,all to them as you fin# your stomach ser"es you5 Bo profit gro!s, !here is no pleasure ta'en5 )n brief, sir, stu#y !hat you most affect$ We ha"e hear# the HoneyGDoon calle# 'an elegant Catherine an# Petruchio'$ We suspect !e #o not un#erstan# this !or# .>.G6B& in the sense that many people #o$ %ut in our sense of the !or#, !e shoul# call >ucentio's #escription of his mistress elegant5 &ranio$ ) sa! her coral lips to mo"e, 6n# !ith her breath she #i# perfume the air5 Sacre# an# s!eet !as all ) sa! in her$ When %ion#ello tells the same >ucentio for his encouragement, ') kne! a !ench marrie# in an afternoon as she !ent to the gar#en for parsley to stuff a rabbit, an# so may you, sir'GGthere is nothing elegant in this, an# yet !e har#ly kno! !hich of the t!o passages is the best$ &H. &6D)BG ?, &H. SH0.W is a play !ithin a play$ )t is suppose# to be a play acte# for the benefit of Sly the tinker, !ho is ma#e to belie"e himself a lor#, !hen he !akes after a #runken bra!l$ &he character of Sly an# the remarks !ith !hich he accompanies the play are as goo# as the play itself$ His ans!er !hen he is aske# ho! he likes it, ')n#ifferent !ellL 'tis a goo# piece of !ork, !oul# 't!ere #one,' is in goo# keeping, as if he !ere thinking of his Satur#ay night's job$ Sly #oes not change his tastes !ith his ne! situation, but in the mi#st of splen#our an# lu/ury still calls out lustily an# repeate#ly 'for a pot o' the smallest ale'$ He is "ery slo! in gi"ing up his personal i#entity in his su##en a#"ancement$ ') am Christophero Sly, call not me honour nor lor#ship$ ) ne'er #rank sack in my life5 an# if you gi"e me any conser"es, gi"e me conser"es of beefL ne'er ask me !hat raiment )'ll !ear, for ) ha"e no more

#oublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet, nay, sometimes more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the o"erGleather$GGWhat, !oul# you make me ma#N 6m not ) Christophero Sly, ol# Sly's son of %urtonheath, by birth a pe#lar, by e#ucation a car#maker, by transmutation a bearGher#, an# no! by present profession a tinkerN 6sk Darian Hacket, the fat ale!ife of Wincot, if she kno! me notL if she say ) am not fourteenG pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'st kna"e in Christen#om$' &his ha"e !hat Inot is honest$ '&he Slies are no rogues', as he says of himself$ We a great pre#ilection for this representati"e of the familyL an# makes us like him the better is, that !e take him to be of kin many #egrees remo"e#J to Sancho Panza$

D.6SA0. ,?0 D.6SA0. &his is a play as full of genius as it is of !is#om$ *et there is an original sin in the nature of the subject, !hich pre"ents us from taking a cor#ial interest in it$ &he height of moral argument' !hich the author has maintaine# in the inter"als of passion or blen#e# !ith the more po!erful impulses of nature, is har#ly surpasse# in any of his plays$ %ut there is in general a !ant of passionL the affections are at a stan#L our sympathies are repulse# an# #efeate# in all #irections$ &he only passion !hich influences the story is that of 6ngeloL an# yet he seems to ha"e a much greater passion for hypocrisy than for his mistress$ Beither are !e greatly enamoure# of )sabella's rigi# chastity, though she coul# not act other!ise than she #i#$ We #o not feel the same confi#ence in the "irtue that is sublimely goo#' at another's e/pense, as if it ha# been out to some less #isintereste# trial$ 6s to the 'uke, !ho makes a "ery imposing an# mysterious stageGcharacter, he is more absorbe# in his o!n plots an# gra"ity than an/ious for the !elfare of the stateL more tenacious of his o!n character than attenti"e to the feelings an# apprehensions of others$ Clau#io is the only person !ho feels naturallyL an# yet he is place# in circumstances of #istress !hich almost preclu#e the !ish for his #eli"erance$ Dariana is also in lo"e !ith 6ngelo, !hom !e hate$ )n this respect, there may be sai# to be a general system of crossGpurposes bet!een the feelings of the #ifferent characters an# the sympathy of the rea#er or the au#ience$ &his principle of repugnance seems to ha"e reache# its height in the character of Daster %arnar#ine, !ho not only sets at #efiance the opinions of others, but has e"en thro!n off all selfGregar#,GG'one that apprehen#s #eath no more #rea#fully but as a #runken sleepL careless, reckless, an# fearless of !hat's past, present, an# to come$' He is a fine antithesis to the morality an# the hypocrisy of the other characters of the play$ %arnar#ine is Caliban transporte# from Prospero's !izar# islan# to the forests of %ohemia or the prisons of -ienna$ He is the creature of ba# habits as Caliban is of gross instincts$ He has, ho!e"er, a strong notion of the natural fitness of things, accor#ing to his o!n sensationsGG'He has been #rinking har# all night, an# he !ill not be hange# that #ay'GGan#

Shakespeare has let him off at last$ We #o not un#erstan# !hy the philosophical German critic, Schlegel, shoul# be so se"ere on those pleasant persons, >ucio, Pompey, an# Daster ,roth, as to call them '!retches'$ &hey appear all mighty comfortable in their occupations, an# #etermine# to pursue them, 'as the flesh an# fortune shoul# ser"e'$ 6 "ery goo# e/posure of the !ant of selfGkno!le#ge an# contempt for others, !hich is so common in the !orl#, is put into the mouth of 6bhorson, the jailer, !hen the Pro"ost proposes to associate Pompey !ith him in his officeGG'6 ba!#, sirN ,ie upon him, he !ill #iscre#it our mystery$' 6n# the same ans!er !oul# ser"e in nine instances out of ten to the same kin# of remark, 'Go to, sir, you !eigh eMuallyL a feather !ill turn the scale$' Shakespeare !as in one sense the least moral of all !ritersL for morality Icommonly so calle#J is ma#e up of antipathiesL an# his talent consiste# in sympathy !ith human nature, in all its shapes, #egrees, #epressions, an# ele"ations$ &he object of the pe#antic moralist is to fin# out the ba# in e"erything5 his !as to sho! that 'there is some soul of goo#ness in things e"il'$ ."en Daster %arnar#ine is not left to the mercy of !hat others think of himL but !hen he comes in, speaks for himself, an# plea#s his o!n cause, as !ell as if counsel ha# been assigne# him$ )n one sense, Shakespeare !as no moralist at all5 in another, he !as the greatest of all moralists$ He !as a moralist in the same sense in !hich nature is one$ He taught !hat he ha# learnt from her$ He sho!e# the greatest kno!le#ge of humanity !ith the greatest fello!Gfeeling for it$ ?ne of the most #ramatic passages in the present play is the inter"ie! bet!een Clau#io an# his sister, !hen she comes to inform him of the con#itions on !hich 6ngelo !ill spare his life$ Clau#io$ >et me kno! the point$ )sabella$GG?, ) #o fear thee, Clau#ioL an# ) Muake, >est thou a fe"erous life shoul#'st entertain, 6n# si/ or se"en !inters more respect &han a perpetual honour$ 'ar'st thou #ieN &he sense of #eath is most in apprehensionL 6n# the poor beetle, that !e trea# upon, )n corporal sufferance fin#s a pang as great 6s !hen a giant #ies$ Clau#io$ Why gi"e you me this shameN &hink you ) can a resolution fetch ,rom flo!ery ten#ernessL if ) must #ie, ) !ill encounter #arkness as a bri#e, 6n# hug it in mine arms$ )sabella$ &here spake my brother4 there my father's gra"e 'i# utter forth a "oice4 *es, thou must #ie5 &hou art too noble to conser"e a life )n base appliances$ &his out!ar#Gsainte# #eputyGG Whose settle# "isage an# #eliberate !or# Bips youth i' the hea#, an# follies #oth emme! 6s faulcon #oth the fo!lGGis yet a #e"il$ Clau#io$ &he princely 6ngeloN

)sabella$ ?h,'tis the cunning li"ery of hell, &he #amne#'st bo#y to in"est an# co"er )n princely guar#s4 'ost thou think, Clau#io, )f ) !oul# yiel# him my "irginity, &hou might'st be free#N Clau#io$ ?h, hea"ens4 it cannot be$ )sabella$ *es, he !oul# gi"e it thee, for this rank offence, So to offen# him still5 this night's the time &hat ) shoul# #o !hat ) abhor to name, ?r else thou #y'st toGmorro!$ Clau#io$ &hou shalt not #o't$ )sabella$ ?h, !ere it but my life, )'# thro! it #o!n for your #eli"erance 6s frankly as a pin$ Clau#io$ &hanks, #ear )sabel$ )sabella$ %e rea#y, Clau#io, for your #eath toGmorro!$ Clau#io$ *es$GGHas he affections in him, &hat thus can make him bite the la! by the noseN When he !oul# force it, sure it is no sinL ?r of the #ea#ly se"en it is the least$ )sabella$ Which is the leastN Clau#io$ )f it !ere #amnable, he, being so !ise, Why !oul# he for the momentary trick %e per#urably fin'#N ?h, )sabel4 )sabella$ What says my brotherN Clau#io$ 'eath is a fearful thing$

)sabella$ 6n# shame# life a hateful$ Clau#io$ 6ye, but to #ie, an# go !e kno! not !hereL &o lie in col# obstruction, an# to rotL &his sensible !arm motion to become 6 knea#e# clo#L an# the #elighte# spirit &o bathe in fiery floo#s, or to resi#e )n thrilling regions of thickGribbe# ice5 &o be imprison'# in the "ie!less !in#s, 6n# blo!n !ith restless "iolence roun# about &he pen#ant !orl#L or to be !orse than !orst ?f those, that la!less an# incertain thoughts )magine ho!ling4GG'tis too horrible4 &he !eariest an# most loathe# !orl#ly life, &hat age, ache, penury, an# imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a para#ise &o !hat !e fear of #eath$ )sabella$ 6las4 alas4

Clau#io$ S!eet sister, let me li"e5 What sin you #o to sa"e a brother's life, Bature #ispenses !ith the #ee# so far, &hat it becomes a "irtue$ What a##s to the #ramatic beauty of this scene an# the effect of Clau#io's passionate attachment to life is, that it imme#iately follo!s the 'uke's lecture to him, on the character of the ,riar, recommen#ing an absolute in#ifference to it$ GG0eason thus !ith life,GG )f ) #o lose thee, ) #o lose a thing, &hat none but fools !oul# keepL a breath thou art, Ser"ile to all the skyey influences &hat #o this habitation, !here thou keep'st, Hourly afflict5 merely, thou art #eath's foolL ,or him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, 6n# yet run'st to!ar# him still5 thou art not nobleL ,or all the accommo#ations, that thou bear'st, 6re nurs'# by baseness5 thou art by no means "aliantL ,or thou #ost fear the soft an# ten#er fork ?f a poor !orm5 thy best of rest is sleep, 6n# that thou oft pro"ok'stL yet grossly fear'st &hy #eath, !hich is no more$ &hou art not thyselfL ,or thou e/ist'st on many a thousan# grains4L &hat issue out of #ust5 happy thou art notL ,or !hat thou hast not, still thou stri"'st to getL 6n# !hat thou hast, forget'stL thou art not certainL ,or thy comple/ion shifts to strange effects, 6fter the moonL if thou art rich, thou art poorL ,or, like an ass, !hose back !ith ingots bo!s, &hou bear'st thy hea"y riches but a journey, 6n# #eath unloa#s thee5 frien# thou hast noneL ,or thy o!n bo!els, !hich #o call thee sire, &he mere effusion of thy proper loins, 'o curse the gout, serpigo, an# the rheum, ,or en#ing thee no sooner5 thou hast nor youth, nor ageL %ut, as it !ere, an afterG#inner's sleep, 'reaming on both5 for all thy blesse# youth %ecomes as age#, an# #oth beg the alms ?f palsie# el#L an# !hen thou art ol#, an# rich, &hou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, &o make thy riches pleasant$ What's yet in this, &hat bears the name of lifeN *et in this life >ie hi# more thousan# #eathsL yet #eath !e fear, &hat makes these o##s all e"en$

D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0 &he D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0 is no #oubt a "ery amusing play, !ith a great #eal of humour, character, an# nature in it5 but !e shoul# ha"e like# it much better, if any one else ha# been the hero of it, instea# of ,alstaff$ We coul# ha"e been contente# if Shakespeare ha#

not been 'comman#e# to sho! the knight in lo"e'$ Wits an# philosophers, for the most part, #o not shine in that characterL an# Sir @ohn himself by no means comes off !ith flying colours$ Dany people complain of the #egra#ation an# insults to !hich 'on Fui/ote is so freMuently e/pose# in his "arious a#"entures$ %ut !hat are the unconscious in#ignities !hich he suffers, compare# !ith the sensible mortifications !hich ,alstaff is ma#e to bring upon himselfN What are the blo!s an# buffetings !hich the 'on recei"es from the sta"es of the *anguesian carriers or from Sancho Panza's more har#Ghearte# han#s, compare# !ith the contamination of the buckGbasket, the #isguise of the fat !oman of %rentfor#, an# the horns of Herne the hunter, !hich are #isco"ere# on Sir @ohn's hea#N )n rea#ing the play, !e in#ee# !ish him !ell through all these #iscomfitures, but it !oul# ha"e been as !ell if he ha# not got into them$ ,alstaff in the D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0 is not the man he !as in the t!o parts of H.B0* )-$ His !it an# eloMuence ha"e left him$ )nstea# of making a butt of others, he is ma#e a butt of by them$ Beither is there a single particle of lo"e in him to e/cuse his follies5 he is merely a #esigning, bareGface# kna"e, an# an unsuccessful one$ &he scene !ith ,or# as Daster %rook, an# that !ith Simple, Slen#er's man, !ho comes to ask after the Wise Woman, are almost the only ones in !hich his ol# intellectual ascen#ancy appears$ He is like a person recalle# to the stage to perform an unaccustome# an# ungracious partL an# in !hich !e percei"e only 'some faint sparks of those flashes of merriment, that !ere !ont to set the hearers in a roar'$ %ut the single scene !ith 'oll &earsheet, or Drs$ Fuickly's account of his #esiring 'to eat some of house!ife Ceach's pra!ns', an# telling her 'to be no more so familiarity !ith such people', is !orth the !hole of the D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0 put together$ ,or#'s jealousy, !hich is the mainspring of the comic inci#ents, is certainly "ery !ell manage#$ Page, on the contrary, appears to be some!hat u/orious in his #ispositionL an# !e ha"e pretty plain in#ications of the effect of the characters of the husban#s on the #ifferent #egrees of fi#elity in their !i"es$ Drs$ Fuickly makes a "ery li"ely goGbet!een, both bet!een ,alstaff an# his 'ulcineas, an# 6nne Page an# her lo"ers, an# seems in the latter case so intent on her o!n interest as totally to o"erlook the intentions of her employers$ Her master, 'octor Caius, the ,renchman, an# her fello! ser"ant @ack 0ugby, are "ery completely #escribe#$ &his lastG mentione# person is rather Muaintly commen#e# by Drs$ Fuickly as 'an honest, !illing, kin# fello!, as e"er ser"ant shall come in house !ithal, an# ) !arrant you, no tellGtale, nor no bree#GbateL his !orst fault is, that he is gi"en to prayerL he is something pee"ish that !ayL but nobo#y but has his fault$' &he Welsh Parson, Sir Hugh ."ans Ia title !hich in those #ays !as gi"en to the clergyJ is an e/cellent character in all respects$ He is as respectable as he is laughable$ He has '"ery goo# #iscretions, an# "ery o## humours'$ &he #uelGscene !ith Caius gi"es him an opportunity to sho! his 'cholers an# his tremblings of min#', his "alour an# his melancholy, in an irresistible manner$ )n the #ialogue, !hich at his mother's reMuest he hol#s !ith his pupil, William Page, to sho! his progress in learning, it is har# to say !hether the simplicity of the master or the scholar is the greatest$ Bym, %ar#olph, an# Pistol, are but the sha#o!s of !hat they !ereL an# @ustice Shallo! himself has little of his conseMuence left$ %ut his cousin, Slen#er, makes up for the #eficiency$ He is a "ery potent piece of imbecility$ )n him the

pretensions of the !orthy Gloucestershire family are !ell kept up, an# immortalize#$ He an# his frien# Sackerson an# his book of songs an# his lo"e of 6nne Page an# his ha"ing nothing to say to her can ne"er be forgotten$ )t is the only firstGrate character in the play, but it is in that class$ Shakespeare is the only !riter !ho !as as great in #escribing !eakness as strength$

&H. C?D.'* ?, .00?0S &his come#y is taken "ery much from the Denaechmi of Plautus, an# is not an impro"ement on it$ Shakespeare appears to ha"e besto!e# no great pains on it, an# there are but a fe! passages !hich bear the #eci#e# stamp of his genius$ He seems to ha"e relie# on his author, an# on the interest arising out of the intricacy of the plot$ &he curiosity e/cite# is certainly "ery consi#erable, though not of the most pleasing kin#$ We are tease# as !ith a ri##le, !hich not!ithstan#ing !e try to sol"e$ )n rea#ing the play, from the sameness of the names of the t!o 6ntipholises an# the t!o 'romios, as !ell from their being constantly taken for each other by those !ho see them, it is #ifficult, !ithout a painful effort of attention, to keep the characters #istinct in the min#$ 6n# again, on the stage, either the complete similarity of their persons an# #ress must pro#uce the same perple/ity !hene"er they first enter, or the i#entity of appearance !hich the story supposes !ill be #estroye#$ We still, ho!e"er, ha"ing a clue to the #ifficulty, can tell !hich is !hich, merely from the practical contra#ictions !hich arise, as soon as the #ifferent parties begin to speakL an# !e are in#emnifie# for the perple/ity an# blun#ers into !hich !e are thro!n by seeing others thro!n into greater an# almost ine/tricable ones$GG &his play Iamong other consi#erationsJ lea#s us not to feel much regret that Shakespeare !as not !hat is calle# a classical scholar$ We #o not think his forte !oul# e"er ha"e lain in imitating or impro"ing on !hat others in"ente#, so much as in in"enting for himself, an# perfecting !hat he in"ente#,GGnot perhaps by the omission of faults, but by the a##ition of the highest e/cellences$ His o!n genius !as strong enough to bear him up, an# he soare# longest an# best on unborro!e# plumes$GG&he only passage of a "ery Shakespearian cast in this come#y is the one in !hich the 6bbess, !ith a#mirable characteristic artifice, makes 6#riana confess her o!n miscon#uct in #ri"ing her husban# ma#$ 6bbess$ Ho! long hath this possession hel# the manN 6#riana$ &his !eek he hath been 6n# much, much #ifferent from %ut, till this afternoon, his Be'er brake into e/tremity of hea"y, sour, sa#, the man he !asL passion rage$

6bbess$ Hath he not lost much !ealth by !reck at seaN %ury'# some #ear frien#N Hath not else his eye Stray'# his affection in unla!ful lo"eN 6 sin pre"ailing much in youthful men,

Who gi"e their eyes the liberty of gazing$ Which of these sorro!s is he subject toN 6#riana$ &o none of these, e/cept it be the last5 Bamely, some lo"e, that #re! him oft from home$ 6bbess$ *ou shoul# for that ha"e reprehen#e# him$ 6#riana$ Why, so ) #i#$ 6bbess$ %ut not rough enough$

6#riana$ 6s roughly as my mo#esty !oul# let me$ 6bbess$ Haply, in pri"ate$ 6#riana$ 6n# in assemblies too$

6bbess$ 6ye, but not enough$ 6#riana$ )t !as the copy of our conference5 )n be#, he slept not for my urging itL 6t boar#, he fe# not for my urging itL 6lone it !as the subject of my themeL )n company, ) often glanc'# at itL Still #i# ) tell him it !as "ile an# ba#$ 6bbess$ 6n# therefore came it that the man !as ma#5 &he "enom'# clamours of a jealous !oman Poison more #ea#ly than a ma# #og's tooth$ )t seems, his sleeps !ere hin#er'# by thy railing5 6n# therefore comes it that his hea# is light$ &hou say'st his meat !as sauc'# !ith thy upbrai#ings5 AnMuiet meals make ill #igestions, &herefore the raging fire of fe"er bre#L 6n# !hat's a fe"er but a fit of ma#nessN &hou say'st his sports !ere hin#er'# by thy bra!lsL S!eet recreation barr'#, !hat #oth ensue, %ut moo#y an# #ull melancholy, Cinsman to grim an# comfortless #espairL 6n#, at her heels, a huge infectious troop ?f pale #istemperatures, an# foes to lifeN )n foo#, in sport, an# lifeGpreser"ing rest &o be #isturb'#, !oul# ma# or man or beastL &he conseMuence is then, thy jealous fits Ha"e scar'# thy husban# from the use of !its$ >uciana$ She ne"er reprehen#e# him but mil#ly, When he #emeane# himself rough, ru#e, an# !il#ly$GG Why bear you these rebukes, an# ans!er notN 6#riana$ She #i# betray me to my o!n reproof$ Pinch the conjurer is also an e/crescence not to be foun# in Plautus$ He is in#ee# a "ery formi#able anachronism$ &hey brought one Pinch, a hungry leanGfac'# "illain,

6 6 6 6

meer anatomy, a mountebank, threa#Gbare juggler an# a fortuneGteller, nee#y, hollo!Gey'#, sharpGlooking !retch, li"ing #ea# man$

&his is e/actly like some of the Puritanical portraits to be met !ith in Hogarth$

'?A%&,A> P>6*S ?, SH6C.SP.60. We shall gi"e for the satisfaction of the rea#er !hat the celebrate# German critic, Schlegel, says on this subject, an# then a## a "ery fe! remarks of our o!n$ '6ll the e#itors, !ith the e/ception of Capell, are unanimous in rejecting &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS as un!orthy of Shakespeare, though they al!ays allo! it to be printe# !ith the other pieces, as the scapegoat, as it !ere, of their abusi"e criticism$ &he correct metho# in such an in"estigation is first to e/amine into the e/ternal groun#s, e"i#ences, Oc$, an# to !eigh their !orthL an# then to a##uce the internal reasons #eri"e# from the Muality of the !ork$ &he critics of Shakespeare follo! a course #irectly the re"erse of thisL they set out !ith a preconcei"e# opinion against a piece, an# seek, in justification of this opinion, to ren#er the historical groun#s suspicious, an# to set them asi#e$ &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS is to be foun# in the first folio e#ition of Shakespeare's !orks, !hich it !as kno!n !as con#ucte# by Heminge an# Con#ell, for many years his frien#s an# fello!Gmanagers of the same theatre$ )s it possible to persua#e oursel"es that they !oul# not ha"e kno!n if a piece in their repertory #i# or #i# not actually belong to ShakespeareN 6n# are !e to lay to the charge of these honourable men a #esigne# frau# in this single case, !hen !e kno! that they #i# not sho! themsel"es so "ery #esirous of scraping e"erything together !hich !ent by the name of Shakespeare, but, as it appears, merely ga"e those plays of !hich they ha# manuscripts in han#N *et the follo!ing circumstance is still stronger5 George Deres, a contemporary an# a#mirer of Shakespeare, mentions &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS in an enumeration of his !orks, in the year 1;2<$ Deres !as personally acMuainte# !ith the poet, an# so "ery intimately, that the latter rea# o"er to him his Sonnets before they !ere printe#$ ) cannot concei"e that all the critical scepticism in the !orl# !oul# be sufficient to get o"er such a testimony$ &his trage#y, it is true, is frame# accor#ing to a false i#ea of the tragic, !hich by an accumulation of cruelties an# enormities #egenerates into the horrible, an# yet lea"es no #eep impression behin#5 the story of &ereus an# Philomela is heightene# an# o"ercharge# un#er other names, an# mi/e# up !ith the repast of 6treus an# &hyestes, an# many other inci#ents$ )n #etail there is no !ant of beautiful lines, bol# images, nay, e"en features !hich betray the peculiar conception of Shakespeare$ 6mong these !e may reckon the joy of the treacherous Door at the blackness an# ugliness of his chil# begot in a#ulteryL an# in the compassion of &itus 6n#ronicus, gro!n chil#ish through grief, for a fly !hich ha# been

struck #ea#, an# his rage after!ar#s !hen he imagines he #isco"ers in it his black enemyL !e recognize the future poet of >.60$ 6re the critics afrai# that Shakespeare's fame !oul# be injure#, !ere it establishe# that in his early youth he ushere# into the !orl# a feeble an# immature !orkN Was 0ome the less the conMueror of the !orl# because 0emus coul# leap o"er its first !allsN >et any one place himself in Shakespeare's situation at the commencement of his career$ He foun# only a fe! in#ifferent mo#els, an# yet these met !ith the most fa"ourable reception, because men are ne"er #ifficult to please in the no"elty of an art before their taste has become fasti#ious from choice an# abun#ance$ Dust not this situation ha"e ha# its influence on him before he learne# to make higher #eman#s on himself, an# by #igging #eeper in his o!n min#, #isco"ere# the richest "eins of a noble metalN )t is e"en highly probable that he must ha"e ma#e se"eral failures before getting into the right path$ Genius is in a certain sense infallible, an# has nothing to learnL but art is to be learne#, an# must be acMuire# by practice an# e/perience$ )n Shakespeare's ackno!le#ge# !orks !e fin# har#ly any traces of his apprenticeship, an# yet an apprenticeship he certainly ha#$ &his e"ery artist must ha"e, an# especially in a perio# !here he has not before him the e/ample of a school alrea#y forme#$ ) consi#er it as e/tremely probable, that Shakespeare began to !rite for the theatre at a much earlier perio# than the one !hich is generally state#, namely, not till after the year 1;28$ )t appears that, as early as the year 1;<9, !hen only t!enty years of age, he ha# left his paternal home an# repaire# to >on#on$ Can !e imagine that such an acti"e hea# !oul# remain i#le for si/ !hole years !ithout making any attempt to emerge by his talents from an uncongenial situationN &hat in the #e#ication of the poem of -enus an# 6#onis he calls it (the first heir of his in"ention(, pro"es nothing against the supposition$ )t !as the first !hich he printe#L he might ha"e compose# it at an earlier perio#L perhaps, also, he #i# not inclu#e theatrical labours, as they then possesse# but little literary #ignity$ &he earlier Shakespeare began to compose for the theatre, the less are !e enable# to consi#er the immaturity an# imperfection of a !ork as a proof of its spuriousness in opposition to historical e"i#ence, if !e only fin# in it prominent features of his min#$ Se"eral of the !orks rejecte# as spurious may still ha"e been pro#uce# in the perio# bet!i/t &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS an# the earliest of the ackno!le#ge# pieces$ '6t last, Stee"ens publishe# se"en pieces ascribe# to Shakespeare in t!o supplementary "olumes$ )t is to be remarke#, that they all appeare# in print in Shakespeare's lifetime, !ith his name prefi/e# at full length$ &hey are the follo!ing5 '1$ >?C0)B.$ &he proofs of the genuineness of this piece are not altogether unambiguousL the groun#s for #oubt, on the other han#, are entitle# to attention$ Ho!e"er, this Muestion is imme#iately connecte# !ith that respecting &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS, an# must be at the same time resol"e# in the affirmati"e or negati"e$ '7$ P.0)C>.S, P0)BC. ?, &*0.$ &his piece !as ackno!le#ge# by 'ry#en, but as a youthful !ork of Shakespeare$ )t is most un#oubte#ly his, an# it has been a#mitte# into se"eral of the late e#itions$ &he suppose# imperfections originate in the circumstance, that Shakespeare here han#le# a chil#ish an# e/tra"agant romance of the

ol# poet Go!er, an# !as un!illing to #rag the subject out of its proper sphere$ Hence he e"en intro#uces Go!er himself, an# makes him #eli"er a prologue entirely in his antiMuate# language an# "ersification$ &his po!er of assuming so foreign a manner is at least no proof of helplessness$ ' $ &H. >?B'?B P0?')G6>$ )f !e are not mistaken, >essing pronounce# this piece to be Shakespeare's, an# !ishe# to bring it on the German stage$ '9$ &H. PA0)&6BL ?0, &H. W)'?W ?, W6&>)BG S&0..&$ ?ne of my literary frien#s, intimately acMuainte# !ith Shakespeare, !as of opinion that the poet must ha"e !ishe# to !rite a play for once in the style of %en @onson, an# that in this !ay !e must account for the #ifference bet!een the present piece an# his usual manner$ &o follo! out this i#ea, ho!e"er, !oul# lea# to a "ery nice critical in"estigation$ ';$ &H?D6S, >?0' C0?DW.>>$ 'K$ S)0 @?HB ?>'C6S&>.GG,)0S& P60&$ '3$ 6 *?0CSH)0. &06G.'*$ '&he three last pieces are not only unMuestionably Shakespeare's, but in my opinion they #eser"e to be classe# among his best an# maturest !orks$ Stee"ens a#mits at last, in some #egree, that they are Shakespeare's, as !ell as the others, e/cepting >?C0)B., but he speaks of all of them !ith great contempt, as Muite !orthless pro#uctions$ &his con#emnatory sentence is not, ho!e"er, in the slightest #egree con"incing, nor is it supporte# by critical acumen$ ) shoul# like to see ho! such a critic !oul#, of his o!n natural suggestion, ha"e #eci#e# on Shakespeare's ackno!le#ge# masterpieces, an# !hat he !oul# ha"e thought of praising in them, ha# the public opinion impose# on him the #uty of a#miration$ &H?D6S, >?0' C0?DW.>>, an# S)0 @?HB ?>'C6S&>., are biographical #ramas, an# mo#els in this species5 the first is linke#, from its subject, to H.B0* &H. .)GH&H, an# the secon# to H.B0* &H. ,),&H$ &he secon# part of ?>'C6S&>. is !antingL ) kno! not !hether a copy of the ol# e#ition has been #isco"ere# in .nglan#, or !hether it is lost$ &H. *?0CSH)0. &06G.'* is a trage#y in one act, a #ramatize# tale of mur#er5 the tragical effect is o"erpo!ering, an# it is e/tremely important to see ho! poetically Shakespeare coul# han#le such a subject$ '&here ha"e been still farther ascribe# to him5 1st$ &H. D.00* '.-)> ?, .'D?B&?B, a come#y in one act, printe# in 'o#sley's ol# plays$ &his has certainly some appearances in its fa"our$ )t contains a merry lan#lor#, !ho bears a great similarity to the one in the D.00* W)-.S ?, W)B'S?0$ Ho!e"er, at all e"ents, though an ingenious, it is but a hasty sketch$ 7n#$ &H. 6CCAS6&)?B ?, P60)S$ r#$ &H. %)0&H ?, D.0>)B$ 9th$ .'W60' &H. &H)0'$ ;th$ &H. ,6)0 .DD6$ Kth$ DAC.'?0AS$ 3th$ 60'.B ?, ,.-.0SH6D$ ) ha"e ne"er seen any of these, an# cannot therefore say anything respecting them$ ,rom the passages cite#, ) am le# to conjecture that the subject of DAC.'?0AS is the popular story of -alentine an# ?rsonL a beautiful subject !hich >ope #e -ega has also taken for a play$ 60'.B ?, ,.-.0SH6D is sai# to be a trage#y on the story of a man, from !hom the poet !as #escen#e# by

the mother's si#e$ )f the Muality of the piece is not too #irectly at "ariance !ith this claim, the circumstance !oul# affor# an a##itional probability in its fa"our$ ,or such moti"es !ere not foreign to Shakespeare5 he treate# Henry the Se"enth, !ho besto!e# lan#s on his forefathers for ser"ices performe# by them, !ith a "isible partiality$ 'Whoe"er takes from Shakespeare a play early ascribe# to him, an# confesse#ly belonging to his time, is unMuestionably boun# to ans!er, !ith some #egree of probability, this Muestion5 !ho has then !ritten itN Shakespeare's competitors in the #ramatic !alk are pretty !ell kno!n, an# if those of them !ho ha"e e"en acMuire# a consi#erable name, a >illy, a Darlo!, a Hey!oo#, are still so "ery far belo! him, !e can har#ly imagine that the author of a !ork, !hich rises so high beyon# theirs, !oul# ha"e remaine# unkno!n'GG >.C&A0.S ?B '06D6&)C >)&.06&A0., "ol$ ii, page 7;7$ We agree to the truth of this last obser"ation, but not to the justice of its application to some of the plays here mentione#$ )t is true that Shakespeare's best !orks are "ery superior to those of Darlo!, or Hey!oo#, but it is not true that the best of the #oubtful plays abo"e enumerate# are superior or e"en eMual to the best of theirs$ &H. *?0CSH)0. &06G.'*, !hich Schlegel speaks of as an un#oubte# pro#uction of our author's, is much more in the manner of Hey!oo# than of Shakespeare$ &he effect is in#ee# o"erpo!ering, but the mo#e of pro#ucing it is by no means poetical$ &he praise !hich Schlegel gi"es to &H?D6S, >?0' C0?DW.>>, an# to S)0 @?HB ?>'C6S&>., is altogether e/aggerate#$ &hey are "ery in#ifferent compositions, !hich ha"e not the slightest pretensions to rank !ith H.B0* - or H.B0* -)))$ We suspect that the German critic !as not "ery !ell acMuainte# !ith the #ramatic contemporaries of Shakespeare, or a!are of their general meritsL an# that he accor#ingly mistakes a resemblance in style an# manner for an eMual #egree of e/cellence$ Shakespeare #iffere# from the other !riters of his age not in the mo#e of treating his subjects, but in the grace an# po!er !hich he #isplaye# in them$ &he reason assigne# by a literary frien# of Schlegel's for supposing &H. PA0)&6BL ?0, &H. W)'?W ?, W6&>)BG S&0..&, to be Shakespeare's, "iz$ that it is in the style of %en @onson, that is to say, in a style just the re"erse of his o!n, is not "ery satisfactory to a plain .nglish un#erstan#ing$ >?C0)B., an# &H. >?B'?B P0?')G6>, if they !ere Shakespeare's at all, must ha"e been among the sins of his youth$ 60'.B ?, ,.-.0SH6D contains se"eral striking passages, but the passion !hich they e/press is rather that of a sanguine temGperament than of a lofty imaginationL an# in this respect they appro/imate more nearly to the style of other !riters of the time than to Shakespeare's$ &)&AS 6B'0?B)CAS is certainly as unlike Shakespeare's usual style as it is possible$ )t is an accumulation of "ulgar physical horrors, in !hich the po!er e/ercise# by the poet bears no proportion to the repugnance e/cite# by the subject$ &he character of 6aron the Door is the only thing !hich sho!s any originality of conceptionL an# the scene in !hich he e/presses his joy 'at the blackness an# ugliness of his chil# begot in a#ultery', the only one !orthy of Shakespeare$ ."en this is !orthy of him only in the #isplay of po!er, for it gi"es no pleasure$ Shakespeare manage# these things #ifferently$ Bor #o !e think it a sufficient ans!er to say that this !as an embryo or cru#e pro#uction of the author$ )n its kin# it is full gro!n, an# its

features #eci#e# an# o"ercharge#$ )t is not like a first imperfect essay, but sho!s a confirme# habit, a systematic preference of "iolent effect to e"erything else$ &here are occasional #etache# images of great beauty an# #elicacy, but these !ere not beyon# the po!ers of other !riters then li"ing$ &he circumstance !hich inclines us to reject the e/ternal e"i#ence in fa"our of this play being Shakespeare's is, that the grammatical construction is constantly false an# mi/e# up !ith "ulgar abbre"iations, a fault that ne"er occurs in any of his genuine plays$ 6 similar #efect, an# the halting measure of the "erse are the chief objections to P.0)C>.S ?, &*0., if !e e/cept the farGfetche# an# complicate# absur#ity of the story$ &he mo"ement of the thoughts an# passions has something in it not unlike Shakespeare, an# se"eral of the #escriptions are either the original hints of passages !hich Shakespeare has engrafte# on his other plays, or are imitations of them by some contemporary poet$ &he most memorable i#ea in it is in Darina's speech, !here she compares the !orl# to 'a lasting storm, hurrying her from her frien#s'$

P?.DS 6B' S?BB.&S ?ur i#olatry of Shakespeare Inot to say our a#mirationJ ceases !ith his plays$ )n his other pro#uctions he !as a mere author, though not a common author$ )t !as only by representing others, that he became himself$ He coul# go out of himself, an# e/press the soul of CleopatraL but in his o!n person, he appeare# to be al!ays !aiting for the prompter's cue$ )n e/pressing the thoughts of others, he seeme# inspire#L in e/pressing his o!n, he !as a mechanic$ &he licence of an assume# character !as necessary to restore his genius to the pri"ileges of nature, an# to gi"e him courage to break through the tyranny of fashion, the trammels of custom$ )n his plays, he !as 'as broa# an# casing as the general air'L in his poems, on the contrary, he appears to be 'coope#, an# cabine# in' by all the technicalities of art, by all the petty intricacies of thought an# language, !hich poetry ha# learne# from the contro"ersial jargon of the schools, !here !or#s ha# been ma#e a substitute for things$ &here !as, if !e mistake not, something of mo#esty, an# a painful sense of personal propriety at the bottom of this$ Shakespeare's imagination, by i#entifying itself !ith the strongest characters in the most trying circumstances, grapple# at once !ith nature, an# trample# the littleness of art un#er his feet5 the rapi# changes of situation, the !i#e range of the uni"erse, ga"e him life an# spirit, an# affor#e# full scope to his geniusL but returne# into his closet again, an# ha"ing assume# the ba#ge of his profession, he coul# only labour in his "ocation, an# conform himself to e/isting mo#els$ &he thoughts, the passions, the !or#s !hich the poet's pen, 'glancing from hea"en to earth, from earth to hea"en', lent to others, shook off the fetters of pe#antry an# affectationL !hile his o!n thoughts an# feelings, stan#ing by themsel"es, !ere seize# upon as la!ful prey, an# torture# to #eath accor#ing to the establishe# rules an# practice of the #ay$ )n a !or#, !e #o not like Shakespeare's poems, because !e like his plays5 the one, in all their e/cellences, are just the re"erse of the other$ )t has been the fashion of late to cry up our author's poems,

as eMual to his plays5 this is the #esperate cant of mo#ern criticism$ We !oul# ask, !as there the slightest comparison bet!een Shakespeare, an# either Chaucer or Spenser, as mere poetsN Bot any$G G&he t!o poems of -.BAS 6B' 6'?B)S an# of &60FA)B 6B' >AC0.C. appear to us like a couple of iceGhouses$ &hey are about as har#, as glittering, an# as col#$ &he author seems all the time to be thinking of his "erses, an# not of his subject,GGnot of !hat his characters !oul# feel, but of !hat he shall sayL an# as it must happen in all such cases, he al!ays puts into their mouths those things !hich they !oul# be the last to think of, an# !hich it sho!s the greatest ingenuity in him to fin# out$ &he !hole is laboure#, upGhill !ork$ &he poet is perpetually singling out the #ifficulties of the art to make an e/hibition of his strength an# skill in !restling !ith them$ He is making perpetual trials of them as if his mastery o"er them !ere #oubte#$ &he images, !hich are often striking, are generally applie# to things !hich they are the least like5 so that they #o not blen# !ith the poem, but seem stuck upon it, like splen#i# patch!ork, or remain Muite #istinct from it, like #etache# substances, painte# an# "arnishe# o"er$ 6 beautiful thought is sure to be lost in an en#less commentary upon it$ &he speakers are like persons !ho ha"e both leisure an# inclination to make ri##les on their o!n situation, an# to t!ist an# turn e"ery object or inci#ent into acrostics an# anagrams$ ."erything is spun out into allegoryL an# a #igression is al!ays preferre# to the main story$ Sentiment is built up upon plays of !or#sL the hero or heroine feels, not from the impulse of passion, but from the force of #ialectics$ &here is besi#es, a strange attempt to substitute the language of painting for that of poetry, to make us S.. their feelings in the faces of the personsL an# again, consistently !ith this, in the #escription of the picture in &60FA)B 6B' >AC0.C., those circumstances are chiefly insiste# on, !hich it !oul# be impossible to con"ey e/cept by !or#s$ &he in"ocation to ?pportunity in the &60FA)B 6B' >AC0.C. is full of thoughts an# images, but at the same time it is o"erloa#e# by them$ &he conclu#ing stanza e/presses all our objections to this kin# of poetry5 ?h4 i#le !or#s, ser"ants to shallo! foolsL Anprofitable soun#s, !eak arbitratorsL %usy yoursel"es in skillGconten#ing schoolsL 'ebate !hen leisure ser"es !ith #ull #ebatersL &o trembling clients be their me#iators5 ,or me ) force not argument a stra!, Since that my case is past all help of la!$ &he #escription of the horse in -.BAS 6B' 6'?B)S has been particularly a#mire#, an# not !ithout reason5 0oun#Ghoof'#, shortGjointe#, fetlocks shag an# long, %roa# breast, full eyes, small hea#, an# nostril !i#e, High crest, short ears, straight legs, an# passing strong, &hin mane, thick tail, broa# buttock, ten#er hi#e5 >ook, !hat a horse shoul# ha"e he #i# not lack, Sa"e a prou# ri#er on so prou# a back$ Bo! this in"entory of perfections sho!s great kno!le#ge of the horseL an# is goo# matterGofGfact poetry$ >et the rea#er but compare

it !ith a speech in the D)'SADD.0 B)GH&'S '0.6D !here &heseus #escribes his houn#sGG 6n# their hea#s are hung With ears that s!eep a!ay the morning #e!GG an# he !ill percei"e at once !hat !e mean by the #ifference bet!een Shakespeare's o!n poetry, an# that of his plays$ We prefer the P6SS)?B6&. P)>G0)D "ery much to the >?-.0'S C?DP>6)B&$ )t has been #oubte# !hether the latter poem is Shakespeare's$ ?f the Sonnets !e #o not !ell kno! !hat to say$ &he subject of them seems to be some!hat eMui"ocalL but many of them are highly beautiful in themsel"es, an# interesting as they relate to the state of the personal feelings of the author$ &he follo!ing are some of the most striking5 C?BS&6BC* >et those !ho are in fa"our !ith their stars ?f public honour an# prou# titles boast, Whilst ), !hom fortune of such triumph bars, Anlook'# for joy in that ) honour most$ Great princes' fa"ourites their fair lea"es sprea#, %ut as the marigol# in the sun's eyeL 6n# in themsel"es their pri#e lies burie#, ,or at a fro!n they in their glory #ie$ &he painful !arrior famous'# for fight, 6fter a thousan# "ictories once foil'#, )s from the book of honour raze# Muite, 6n# all the rest forgot for !hich he toil'#5 &hen happy ), that lo"e an# am belo"'#, Where ) may not remo"e, nor be remo"e#$ >?-.'S C?BS?>6&)?B When in #isgrace !ith fortune an# men's eyes, ) all alone be!eep my outcast state, 6n# trouble #eaf hea"en !ith my bootless cries, 6n# look upon myself, an# curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, ,eatur'# like him, like him !ith frien#s possess'#, 'esiring this man's art, an# that man's scope, With !hat ) most enjoy contente# leastL *et in these thoughts myself almost #espising, Haply ) think on thee,GGan# then my state I>ike to the lark at break of #ay arising ,rom sullen earthJ sings hymns at hea"en's gateL ,or thy s!eet lo"e remember'#, such !ealth brings &hat then ) scorn to change my state !ith kings$ B?-.>&* Dy lo"e is strengthen'#, though more !eak in seemingL ) lo"e not less, though less the sho! appear5

&hat lo"e is merchan#iz'#, !hose rich esteeming &he o!ner's tongue #oth publish e"ery !here$ ?ur lo"e !as ne!, an# then but in the spring, When ) !as !ont to greet it !ith my laysL 6s Philomel in summer's front #oth sing, 6n# stops his pipe in gro!th of riper #ays5 Bot that the summer is less pleasant no! &han !hen her mournful hymns #i# hush the night, %ut that !il# music burthens e"ery bough, 6n# s!eets gro!n common lose their #ear #elight$ &herefore, like her, ) sometime hol# my tongue, %ecause ) !oul# not #ull you !ith my song$ >),.'S '.C6* &hat time of year thou mayst in me behol# When yello! lea"es, or none, or fe!, #o hang Apon those boughs !hich shake against the col#, %are ruin'# choirs, !here late the s!eet bir#s sang$ )n me thou see'st the t!ilight of such #ay 6s after sunset fa#eth in the !estL Which by an# by black night #oth take a!ay, 'eath's secon# self, that seals up all in rest$ )n me thou see'st the glo!ing of such fire, &hat on the ashes of his youth #oth lie, 6s the #eathGbe# !hereon it must e/pire Consum'# !ith that !hich it !as nourish'# by$ &his thou percei"'st, !hich makes thy lo"e more strong, &o lo"e that !ell !hich thou must lea"e ere long$ )n all these, as !ell as in many others, there is a mil# tone of sentiment, #eep, mello!, an# sustaine#, "ery #ifferent from the cru#eness of his earlier poems$

.n# of the Project Gutenberg .%ook of Characters of Shakespeare's Plays by William Hazlitt +++ .B' ?, &H. P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0G .%??C CH606C&.0S ?, SH6C.SP.60.'S +++ &his file shoul# be name# chrsh18$t/t or chrsh18$zip Correcte# .')&)?BS of our e%ooks get a ne! BAD%.0, chrsh11$t/t -.0S)?BS base# on separate sources get ne! >.&&.0, chrsh18a$t/t Pro#uce# by Ste"e Harris, Charles ,ranks an# the ?nline 'istribute# Proofrea#ing &eam$ Project Gutenberg e%ooks are often create# from se"eral printe# e#itions, all of !hich are confirme# as Public 'omain in the AS unless a copyright notice is inclu#e#$ &hus, !e usually #o not keep e%ooks in compliance !ith any particular paper e#ition$

We are no! trying to release all our e%ooks one year in a#"ance of the official release #ates, lea"ing time for better e#iting$ Please be encourage# to tell us about any error or corrections, e"en years after the official publication #ate$ Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til mi#night of the last #ay of the month of any such announcement$ &he official release #ate of all Project Gutenberg e%ooks is at Di#night, Central &ime, of the last #ay of the state# month$ 6 preliminary "ersion may often be poste# for suggestion, comment an# e#iting by those !ho !ish to #o so$ Dost people start at our Web sites at5 http5PPgutenberg$net or http5PPpromo$netPpg &hese Web sites inclu#e a!ar#G!inning information about Project Gutenberg, inclu#ing ho! to #onate, ho! to help pro#uce our ne! e%ooks, an# ho! to subscribe to our email ne!sletter Ifree4J$ &hose of you !ho !ant to #o!nloa# any e%ook before announcement can get to them as follo!s, an# just #o!nloa# by #ate$ &his is also a goo# !ay to get them instantly upon announcement, as the in#e/es our cataloguers pro#uce ob"iously take a !hile after an announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Be!sletter$ http5PP!!!$ibiblio$orgPgutenbergPete/t8 or ftp5PPftp$ibiblio$orgPpubP#ocsPbooksPgutenbergPete/t8 ?r Pete/t87, 81, 88, 22, 2<, 23, 2K, 2;, 29, 2 , 27, 27, 21 or 28 @ust search by the first fi"e letters of the filename you !ant, as it appears in our Be!sletters$ )nformation about Project Gutenberg Ione pageJ We pro#uce about t!o million #ollars for each hour !e !ork$ &he time it takes us, a rather conser"ati"e estimate, is fifty hours to get any e%ook selecte#, entere#, proofrea#, e#ite#, copyright searche# an# analyze#, the copyright letters !ritten, etc$ ?ur projecte# au#ience is one hun#re# million rea#ers$ )f the "alue per te/t is nominally estimate# at one #ollar then !e pro#uce Q7 million #ollars per hour in 7887 as !e release o"er 188 ne! te/t files per month5 1798 more e%ooks in 7881 for a total of 9888H We are alrea#y on our !ay to trying for 7888 more e%ooks in 7887 )f they reach just 1G7R of the !orl#'s population then the total !ill reach o"er half a trillion e%ooks gi"en a!ay by year's en#$ &he Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Gi"e 6!ay 1 &rillion e%ooks4 &his is ten thousan# titles each to one hun#re# million rea#ers, !hich is only about 9R of the present number of computer users$ Here is the briefest recor# of our progress I+ means estimate#J5 e%ooks *ear Donth

1 18 188 1888 1;88 7888 7;88 888 9888 K888 2888 18888

1231 1221 1229 1223 122< 1222 7888 7881 7881 7887 788 7889

@uly @anuary @anuary 6ugust ?ctober 'ecember 'ecember Bo"ember ?ctoberPBo"ember 'ecember+ Bo"ember+ @anuary+

&he Project Gutenberg >iterary 6rchi"e ,oun#ation has been create# to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the ne/t millennium$ We nee# your #onations more than e"er4 6s of ,ebruary, 7887, contributions are being solicite# from people an# organizations in5 6labama, 6laska, 6rkansas, Connecticut, 'ela!are, 'istrict of Columbia, ,lori#a, Georgia, Ha!aii, )llinois, )n#iana, )o!a, Cansas, Centucky, >ouisiana, Daine, Dassachusetts, Dichigan, Dississippi, Dissouri, Dontana, Bebraska, Be"a#a, Be! Hampshire, Be! @ersey, Be! De/ico, Be! *ork, Borth Carolina, ?hio, ?klahoma, ?regon, Pennsyl"ania, 0ho#e )slan#, South Carolina, South 'akota, &ennessee, &e/as, Atah, -ermont, -irginia, Washington, West -irginia, Wisconsin, an# Wyoming$ We ha"e file# in all ;8 states no!, but these are the only ones that ha"e respon#e#$ 6s the reMuirements for other states are met, a##itions to this list !ill be ma#e an# fun# raising !ill begin in the a##itional states$ Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state$ )n ans!er to "arious Muestions !e ha"e recei"e# on this5 We are constantly !orking on finishing the paper!ork to legally reMuest #onations in all ;8 states$ )f your state is not liste# an# you !oul# like to kno! if !e ha"e a##e# it since the list you ha"e, just ask$ While !e cannot solicit #onations from people in states !here !e are not yet registere#, !e kno! of no prohibition against accepting #onations from #onors in these states !ho approach us !ith an offer to #onate$ )nternational #onations are accepte#, but !e #on't kno! 6B*&H)BG about ho! to make them ta/G#e#uctible, or e"en if they C6B be ma#e #e#uctible, an# #on't ha"e the staff to han#le it e"en if there are !ays$ 'onations by check or money or#er may be sent to5 Project Gutenberg >iterary 6rchi"e ,oun#ation

PD% 11 13 2 Ani"ersity 6"e$ ?/for#, DS <K;;G9182 Contact us if you !ant to arrange for a !ire transfer or payment metho# other than by check or money or#er$ &he Project Gutenberg >iterary 6rchi"e ,oun#ation has been appro"e# by the AS )nternal 0e"enue Ser"ice as a ;81IcJI J organization !ith .)B :.mployee )#entification Bumber= K9GK771;9$ 'onations are ta/G#e#uctible to the ma/imum e/tent permitte# by la!$ 6s fun#Graising reMuirements for other states are met, a##itions to this list !ill be ma#e an# fun#Graising !ill begin in the a##itional states$ We nee# your #onations more than e"er4 *ou can get up to #ate #onation information online at5 http5PP!!!$gutenberg$netP#onation$html +++ )f you can't reach Project Gutenberg, you can al!ays email #irectly to5 Dichael S$ Hart ShartTpobo/$comU Prof$ Hart !ill ans!er or for!ar# your message$ We !oul# prefer to sen# you information by email$ ++&he >egal Small Print++ I&hree PagesJ +++S&60&++&H. SD6>> P0)B&4++,?0 PA%>)C '?D6)B .%??CS++S&60&+++ Why is this (Small Print4( statement hereN *ou kno!5 la!yers$ &hey tell us you might sue us if there is something !rong !ith your copy of this e%ook, e"en if you got it for free from someone other than us, an# e"en if !hat's !rong is not our fault$ So, among other things, this (Small Print4( statement #isclaims most of our liability to you$ )t also tells you ho! you may #istribute copies of this e%ook if you !ant to$ +%.,?0.4+ *?A AS. ?0 0.6' &H)S .%??C %y using or rea#ing any part of this P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GGtm e%ook, you in#icate that you un#erstan#, agree to an# accept this (Small Print4( statement$ )f you #o not, you can recei"e a refun# of the money Iif anyJ you pai# for this e%ook by sen#ing a reMuest !ithin 8 #ays of recei"ing it to the person you got it from$ )f you recei"e# this e%ook on a physical me#ium Isuch as a #iskJ, you must return it !ith your reMuest$ 6%?A& P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GG&D .%??CS

&his P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GGtm e%ook, like most P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GGtm e%ooks, is a (public #omain( !ork #istribute# by Professor Dichael S$ Hart through the Project Gutenberg 6ssociation Ithe (Project(J$ 6mong other things, this means that no one o!ns a Anite# States copyright on or for this !ork, so the Project Ian# you4J can copy an# #istribute it in the Anite# States !ithout permission an# !ithout paying copyright royalties$ Special rules, set forth belo!, apply if you !ish to copy an# #istribute this e%ook un#er the (P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0G( tra#emark$ Please #o not use the (P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0G( tra#emark to market any commercial pro#ucts !ithout permission$ &o create these e%ooks, the Project e/pen#s consi#erable efforts to i#entify, transcribe an# proofrea# public #omain !orks$ 'espite these efforts, the Project's e%ooks an# any me#ium they may be on may contain ('efects($ 6mong other things, 'efects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt #ata, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a #efecti"e or #amage# #isk or other e%ook me#ium, a computer "irus, or computer co#es that #amage or cannot be rea# by your eMuipment$ >)D)&.' W6006B&*L ')SC>6)D.0 ?, '6D6G.S %ut for the (0ight of 0eplacement or 0efun#( #escribe# belo!, :1= Dichael Hart an# the ,oun#ation Ian# any other party you may recei"e this e%ook from as a P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GGtm e%ookJ #isclaims all liability to you for #amages, costs an# e/penses, inclu#ing legal fees, an# :7= *?A H6-. B? 0.D.').S ,?0 B.G>)G.BC. ?0 AB'.0 S&0)C& >)6%)>)&*, ?0 ,?0 %0.6CH ?, W6006B&* ?0 C?B&06C&, )BC>A')BG %A& B?& >)D)&.' &? )B')0.C&, C?BS.FA.B&)6>, PAB)&)-. ?0 )BC)'.B&6> '6D6G.S, .-.B ), *?A G)-. B?&)C. ?, &H. P?SS)%)>)&* ?, SACH '6D6G.S$ )f you #isco"er a 'efect in this e%ook !ithin 28 #ays of recei"ing it, you can recei"e a refun# of the money Iif anyJ you pai# for it by sen#ing an e/planatory note !ithin that time to the person you recei"e# it from$ )f you recei"e# it on a physical me#ium, you must return it !ith your note, an# such person may choose to alternati"ely gi"e you a replacement copy$ )f you recei"e# it electronically, such person may choose to alternati"ely gi"e you a secon# opportunity to recei"e it electronically$ &H)S .%??C )S ?&H.0W)S. P0?-)'.' &? *?A (6SG)S($ B? ?&H.0 W6006B&).S ?, 6B* C)B', .VP0.SS ?0 )DP>).', 60. D6'. &? *?A 6S &? &H. .%??C ?0 6B* D.')AD )& D6* %. ?B, )BC>A')BG %A& B?& >)D)&.' &? W6006B&).S ?, D.0CH6B&6%)>)&* ?0 ,)&B.SS ,?0 6 P60&)CA>60 PA0P?S.$ Some states #o not allo! #isclaimers of implie# !arranties or the e/clusion or limitation of conseMuential #amages, so the abo"e #isclaimers an# e/clusions may not apply to you, an# you may ha"e other legal rights$ )B'.DB)&* *ou !ill in#emnify an# hol# Dichael Hart, the ,oun#ation,

an# its trustees an# agents, an# any "olunteers associate# !ith the pro#uction an# #istribution of Project GutenbergGtm te/ts harmless, from all liability, cost an# e/pense, inclu#ing legal fees, that arise #irectly or in#irectly from any of the follo!ing that you #o or cause5 :1= #istribution of this e%ook, :7= alteration, mo#ification, or a##ition to the e%ook, or : = any 'efect$ ')S&0)%A&)?B AB'.0 (P0?@.C& GA&.B%.0GGtm( *ou may #istribute copies of this e%ook electronically, or by #isk, book or any other me#ium if you either #elete this (Small Print4( an# all other references to Project Gutenberg, or5 :1= ?nly gi"e e/act copies of it$ 6mong other things, this reMuires that you #o not remo"e, alter or mo#ify the e%ook or this (small print4( statement$ *ou may ho!e"er, if you !ish, #istribute this e%ook in machine rea#able binary, compresse#, markGup, or proprietary form, inclu#ing any form resulting from con"ersion by !or# processing or hyperte/t soft!are, but only so long as +.)&H.0+5 :+= &he e%ook, !hen #isplaye#, is clearly rea#able, an# #oes +not+ contain characters other than those inten#e# by the author of the !ork, although til#e IWJ, asterisk I+J an# un#erline IXJ characters may be use# to con"ey punctuation inten#e# by the author, an# a##itional characters may be use# to in#icate hyperte/t linksL ?0 &he e%ook may be rea#ily con"erte# by the rea#er at no e/pense into plain 6SC)), .%C')C or eMui"alent form by the program that #isplays the e%ook Ias is the case, for instance, !ith most !or# processorsJL ?0 *ou pro"i#e, or agree to also pro"i#e on reMuest at no a##itional cost, fee or e/pense, a copy of the e%ook in its original plain 6SC)) form Ior in .%C')C or other eMui"alent proprietary formJ$

:+=

:+=

:7= : =

Honor the e%ook refun# an# replacement pro"isions of this (Small Print4( statement$ Pay a tra#emark license fee to the ,oun#ation of 78R of the gross profits you #eri"e calculate# using the metho# you alrea#y use to calculate your applicable ta/es$ )f you #on't #eri"e profits, no royalty is #ue$ 0oyalties are payable to (Project Gutenberg >iterary 6rchi"e ,oun#ation( the K8 #ays follo!ing each #ate you prepare Ior !ere legally reMuire# to prepareJ your annual Ior eMui"alent perio#icJ ta/ return$ Please contact us beforehan# to let us kno! your plans an# to !ork out the #etails$

WH6& ), *?A +W6B&+ &? S.B' D?B.* .-.B ), *?A '?B'& H6-. &?N Project Gutenberg is #e#icate# to increasing the number of

public #omain an# license# !orks that can be freely #istribute# in machine rea#able form$ &he Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, public #omain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses$ Doney shoul# be pai# to the5 (Project Gutenberg >iterary 6rchi"e ,oun#ation$( )f you are intereste# in contributing scanning eMuipment or soft!are or other items, please contact Dichael Hart at5 hartTpobo/$com :Portions of this e%ook's hea#er an# trailer may be reprinte# only !hen #istribute# free of all fees$ Copyright ICJ 7881, 7887 by Dichael S$ Hart$ Project Gutenberg is a &ra#eDark an# may not be use# in any sales of Project Gutenberg e%ooks or other materials be they har#!are or soft!are or any other relate# pro#uct !ithout e/press permission$= +.B' &H. SD6>> P0)B&4 ,?0 PA%>)C '?D6)B .%??CS+-er$87P11P87+.B'+