Chapter 11

“I know no parties nor no factions, sir,”

he commands him:

“Then wear this cross of white,And where you see the like, they are my friends;Observe them well, the type is dangerous.”[109:1]

“Then wear this cross of white,

And where you see the like, they are my friends;

Observe them well, the type is dangerous.”[109:1]

A touch of the pathetic (often mingled with the comic), accompanies the “poor, grieved gentlewoman” who once refused his suit and for love of whom Shattillion’s mind became unhinged, who:

“Follows him much lamenting, and much loving,In hope to make him well.”[109:2]

“Follows him much lamenting, and much loving,

In hope to make him well.”[109:2]

But, says Longueville, a courtier,

“he knows her not,Nor any else that comes to visit him.”[109:2]

“he knows her not,

Nor any else that comes to visit him.”[109:2]

Shattillion is plainly created for a dramatic purpose. The main story concerns the gulling of a gentleman named Mount-Marine by his wife, who persuades him that the King has granted him many high honours, and that he is Duke of Burgundy. Shattillion, whose delusions persuade him that he has himself a claim to the crown, is worked into the plot with considerable skill, and his quarrel in the fifth act with the “Duke” and his servant unites the two plots with great effect.

A short study of the “mad scenes” will shew the strength and the weakness of this character. The particular form of his mania is brought out very clearly. The madman is perfectly sure about the plots laid for him; his friends are really enemies disguised to “sift into” his words;he“can see and can beware”;hehas his wits about him and thanks Heaven for it! The burst of laughter with which the audience would greet this assertion is at once hushed as the Lady laments the o’erthrow of her lover’s noble mind;

“That was the fairest hope the French court bred,The worthiest and the sweetest-temper’d spirit,The truest, and the valiantest, the best of judgment.”[110:1]

“That was the fairest hope the French court bred,

The worthiest and the sweetest-temper’d spirit,

The truest, and the valiantest, the best of judgment.”[110:1]

She is remorse-stricken at being the cause of it all, and prays Heaven to be merciful; she will do all she can to restore her lover to his senses.

A long interval elapses before Shattillion is again introduced.[110:2]Now he has heard of the “new duke” and he is suspicious and curious, so much so that he is gesticulating and enquiring about it in the open street. The Lady appears and begs Madam Marine to take him into her house “from the broad eyes of people.” She does so. Shattillion, now believing that he is “betray’d” and about to be beheaded, is led away giving his last instructions. Before long, we see him once more, this time in Marine’s house, proving to Marine that he (Shattillion) is of the blood royal, and but for the interference of his friends he would seize Marine as a traitor. In the next act he persuades Jacques, Marine’s old servant, that he too is in danger of his life, and drags him into his house for shelter. As theygo in, the Lady appears, and, knocking at Shattillion’s door, is repulsed as another enemy. The madman’s imagination goes so far as to see “some twenty musketeers in ambush,” and he suspects his love of being their captain. Meanwhile Jacques, disguised as a woman, is leaving the house, when his preserver stops him, accuses him of being

“A yeoman of the guard,Disguised in woman’s clothes, to work on me,To make love to me and to trap my wordsAnd so ensnare my life.”[111:1]

“A yeoman of the guard,

Disguised in woman’s clothes, to work on me,

To make love to me and to trap my words

And so ensnare my life.”[111:1]

Jacques at length escapes, and after another adventure returns as servant to the “Duke.” In this capacity he is forced into a fierce quarrel with Shattillion, who, in his furious loyalty, seizes Marine and throws him to the ground. Hereupon the Lady has a remedy to propose:

“A strange conceit hath wrought this malady;Conceits again must bring him to himself;My strict denial to his will wrought this,And if you could but draw his wilder thoughtsTo know me, he would, sure, recover sense.”

“A strange conceit hath wrought this malady;

Conceits again must bring him to himself;

My strict denial to his will wrought this,

And if you could but draw his wilder thoughts

To know me, he would, sure, recover sense.”

Longueville undertakes the charge. Assuring Shattillion that the King has rewarded his loyalty, he presents to him the Lady, who, he says, has been released from prison for his sake. Shattillion is overcome, and after a few minutes falls asleep. Longueville knows that this is a good sign:

“His eyes grow very heavy. Not a word,That his weak senses may come sweetly home.”[111:2]

“His eyes grow very heavy. Not a word,

That his weak senses may come sweetly home.”[111:2]

He wakes, indeed, still “weak and sickly,” but himself again.

The general impression left by this comedy is, on the whole, pleasant, that part of it concerned with Shattillion included. The antics of the madman himself are certainly comic, especially on the stage, and the lighter side of his mania is persistently put forward. The only pathetic touch is, in fact, the genuine sorrow of his Lady. This predominance of the comic may be regretted, though in a play of the farcical nature of “The Noble Gentleman” little else could be expected. However, the sound, realistic basis of the disease, together with the simple and unassuming cure—which, nevertheless, would hardly be successful in real life,—makes the treatment of Shattillion as far superior to the treatment of the Passionate Lord as the one play is to the other. Considered absolutely, the representation of Shattillion is chiefly remarkable for its reality, its skilful weaving into the plot, and its mingling of pathos with broad humour. On the other hand the pathos would not be so artificial if the entrance of the lady were somewhat less mechanical—we could almost certainly predict when she will enter in the last two acts. Fletcher’s almost total blindness to everything but the comic and its possibilities also detracts from the effect of Shattillion, and the very obvious dramaticmotive for his introduction does not, on reflection, improve matters.

We have now passed from the heights of tragedy, through its pathos, and the ill-blended pathos and broad humour of inferior tragi-comedy to the pure and simple inanity of “The Nice Valour”—a work which certainly appears to be unfinished. In considering Shattillion, we have risen as high as we can hope to do within the limits of comedy, and before leaving the raving lunatic for another class of madman we must descend slightly as we consider Ben Jonson’s comedy of “Bartholomew Fair,” and his madman, Trouble-all.

The plot has already been outlined, and it will be seen that the place of the madman is an important one. Theoretically, he is of prime importance to the play, since it is foretold that Dame Purecraft, who has already had two suitors, shall “never have happy hour unless she marry within this sen’night; and when it is it must be a madman,” and it is Quarlous, dressed in Trouble-all’s clothes and affecting his malady, who eventually marries her. As a matter of fact, the main portion of the play is concerned with other things, and we only meet our madman in the fourth act. From this point onward, the author shews great ingenuity in his handling of him; the burden of his remarks alone serves as apoint d’appuifor the spectator (who by this time is probably getting wearied), while the humorous situations which he provokes, culminating in the acuteness of Quarlous and its success, are largely responsible for the undoubted popularity of the comedy with both reader and spectator.

This is, of course, very much to the credit of a comedy which professedly deals with low life; it is more to our purpose to remark that as a picture of madness the character of Trouble-all is exceptionally correct. Gifford’s note to Cunningham’s edition of Ben Jonson remarks that “Even the trifling part of Trouble-all, in any other writer than Jonson, would be thought deserving of praise for its correct delineation of a particular species of insanity, too inoffensive for fear and too slight for commiseration.”[114:1]Gifford is right, both in what he states and in what he implies. We expect correctness from Jonson and we are not disappointed.

A sketch of the madman should make this clear. He was “an officer in the court of pie-poudres last year and put out of his place by Justice Overdo.”[114:2]His affliction is marked by theidée fixe; he raves continually about the Justice, and will do nothing—not even the simplest actions of daily life—without satisfying himself that he has Overdo’s warrant for it. How true to life this feature is may be read inany modern book on insanity. He appears first of all in the fair, where Overdo is being put into the stocks: “If you have Justice Overdo’s warrant,” he says, “’tis well; you are safe: that is the warrant of warrants.”[115:1]He is walking to and fro, with all the restless impatience of mania, demanding to be shewn Adam Overdo. In his frantic wanderings he comes upon Dame Purecraft, who apparently thinks him more suitable for her than any madman she has yet seen and cries: “Now heaven increase his madness and bless and thank it.” Trouble-all’s reply does not vary: “Have you a warrant? an you have a warrant, shew it.”[115:1]Person after person presents himself but the madman’s reply is always the same. Every conversation he interrupts with his query, and, when he is ignored, he turns away in disgust. Once he exasperates a watchman, who strikes him. The latent rage of the lunatic shews itself, but the madman’s rationalisation first provides it with an excuse: “Strikest thou without a warrant? take thou that.” When Quarlous personates the lunatic[115:2]our author rightly depicts him as only partially successful, though his end is nevertheless as well reached as if he had been wholly so. He raves occasionally about a warrant, but it is not hard to see his sanity peeping through the veil of assumed madness. Much of his talkis comparatively coherent, and beyond his occasional references to the warrant he makes no attempt to play the madman. To turn his literal phrase into metaphor, he is “mad but from the gown outward.”[116:1]Trouble-all himself, when Quarlous’ purpose is accomplished, makes one furious entry, armed “with a dripping pan,”[116:1]but he does no mischief, and soon disappears.

Trouble-all is a noteworthy character, though a small one; yet, for more than one reason, the character is less praiseworthy than Fletcher’s Shattillion. Considerable care is shewn in the sketch, but little or no sympathy; and, if madness is to be utilised in comedy, the comic element should at least, as has been seen, be mingled with some touches of pathos. As it is, any other character than the madman would have served Jonson equally well, provided that it had supplied him with the same dramatic advantages. When Overdo says: “Alas, poor wretch! how it yearns my heart for him!” we believe him about as readily as if Jonson had made the same remark in an “author’s footnote.”

In one respect, and in one respect only, can any claim be made on behalf of Jonson’s character to rank above Fletcher’s “Noble Gentleman.” Fletcher makes us look at madness from the point of view of the madman,and tries to put us in sympathy with him. We have seen that he is only partially successful. Jonson, on the other hand, treats madness in quite an objective way, uses it frankly for a subsidiary dramatic purpose, and portrays his madman with the utmost conscientiousness and care. It may be just a question—though the writer himself does not think so—whether from the point of view of art Jonson’s production is not the more praiseworthy.

Be that, however, as it may, it is nevertheless absolute Ben Jonson!

FOOTNOTES:

[61:1]From the AlleynMS.

[62:1]“Spanish Tragedy.”

[63:1]“Spanish Tragedy,”iii., 12a.

[64:1]“Spanish Tragedy,”iii., 12.

[65:1]Ibid.,iii., 12a.

[65:2]Ibid.,iii., 8.

[65:3]Ibid.,iv., 2.

[65:4]Other examples of conventional madness abound. Seepage 151, Note 1. (Ann Ratcliff, in “The Witch of Edmonton.”) Peele, in the “Old Wives’ Tale,” presents us with a character, Venelia, sent mad by a sorcerer, Sacrapant:She “runs madding, all enraged, about the woodsAll by his cursèd and enchanting spells.”But, apart from this, she does nothing!

She “runs madding, all enraged, about the woodsAll by his cursèd and enchanting spells.”

She “runs madding, all enraged, about the woods

All by his cursèd and enchanting spells.”

But, apart from this, she does nothing!

[66:1]“Shakespeare, His Mind and Art,”p.272.

[67:1]“King Lear,”i., 1, 125-6.

[68:1]“King Lear,”i., 1, 296,etc.

[68:2]Ibid.,i., 4, 207-8.

[68:3]Ibid.,i., 4, 292-4.

[69:1]“King Lear,”i., 5, 50-1.

[69:2]Ibid.,ii., 4, 56-8.

[70:1]“King Lear,”ii., 4, 285-9.

[70:2]“The Mad Folk of Shakespeare,”p.194.

[70:3]“King Lear,”iii., 2, 67.

[71:1]“King Lear,”iii., 4, 49-50.

[71:2]Ibid.,iii., 4 passim.

[71:3]Ibid.,iii., 6.

[72:1]“King Lear,”iv., 6, 81,etc.

[72:2]l.85.

[73:1]ll.109-10.

[73:2]“King Lear,”iv., 7.

[74:1]“King Lear,”iv., 7, 68-9.

[74:2]l.70.

[74:3]l.84.

[74:4]Ibid.,v., 3, 272-4.

[75:1]“King Lear,”v., 3, 305,etc.

[77:1]“Hamlet,”iv., 5, 4,etc.

[77:2]Ibid.,iv., 5, 23,etc.

[77:3]ll.29-32.

[78:1]“Hamlet,”iv., 5, 35,etc.

[78:2]ll.68-70.

[78:3]Ibid.,iv., 5, 155,etc.

[78:4]l.173.

[79:1]ll.188-9.

[79:2]Ferriar, quoted by Dr. Bucknill,p.155 (op. cit.)

[80:1]“Hamlet,”iv., 7, 167,etc.

[82:1]“Two Noble Kinsmen,”iv., 3.

[82:2]Ibid.,ii., 1.

[83:1]Ibid.,iii., 2.

[84:1]Ibid.,iii., 4.

[84:2]Ibid.,iii., 5.

[85:1]Ibid.,iv., 1.

[85:2]Ibid.,iv., 1, 104,etc.

[86:1]Ibid.,iv., 3.

[86:2]Ibid.,v., 2.

[89:1]Ward,Eng. Dram. Lit.,ii., 300. The original criticism, as Dr. Ward points out, is Gifford’s.Cf.the latter’s edition of Ford,vol. i.,p.337.

[90:1]“Elizabethan Literature,”p.408.

[90:2]“The Broken Heart,”iv., 4.

[91:1]“The Lover’s Melancholy,”iii., 3.

[92:1]Ibid.,i., 1.

[92:2]A similar device is found in Brome’s play, “The Antipodes,” where, however, the physician uses the fantastic but less morbid device of a “play within a play.” See page 136.

[93:1]Ibid.,iv., 2.

[93:2]Ibid.,ii., 2.

[93:3]Ibid.,ii., 2.

[94:1]Ibid.,iv., 2.

[95:1]Ibid.,v., 1.

[96:1]Acted in 1602; first printed in 1631.

[98:1]“Hoffman,”iv., 1.

[99:1]Ibid.,v., 2.

[100:1]“A Very Woman,”ii., 2.

[100:2]Ibid.,iii., 3.

[101:1]Ibid.,iv., 2.

[102:1]“A New Way to Pay Old Debts,”v., 1.

[103:1]Ibid.,v., 1.

[103:2]Ibid.,v., 1.

[103:3]“The Duchess of Malfi,”v., 2.

[105:1]It is referred to, however, in the following pages as “The Passionate Madman.”

[106:1]“The Passionate Madman,”i., 1.

[106:2]Ibid.,ii., 1.

[106:3]Ibid.,iii., 1.

[106:4]Ibid.,iii., 2.

[107:1]Compare “Hamlet,”ii., 1, 77,etc.Ophelia: “My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac’d,No hat upon his head . . he comes before me.”

[107:1]Compare “Hamlet,”ii., 1, 77,etc.

Ophelia: “My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac’d,No hat upon his head . . he comes before me.”

Ophelia: “My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,

Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac’d,

No hat upon his head . . he comes before me.”

[107:2]“The Passionate Madman,”v., 1.

[108:1]Ibid.,v., 3.

[108:2]“The Noble Gentleman,”i., 2.

[109:1]Ibid.,i., 3.

[109:2]Ibid.,i., 2.

[110:1]Ibid.,i., 3.

[110:2]Actiii., Sc. 2.

[111:1]Ibid.,iv., 3.

[111:2]Ibid.,v., 1.

[114:1]p.210.

[114:2]“Bartholomew Fair,”iv., 1.

[115:1]Ibid.,iv., 1.

[115:2]Ibid.,v., 2.

[116:1]Ibid.,v., 3.

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