PART I.THE PHYSICIAN.

Shakespeare’s education was not, by any means, hedged in by plots and characters; besides these, his mighty mind seems to have teemed with the knowledge of languages, medicine, law and court etiquette. It is wonderful that one brain could shine forth such a vast variety, and surprising that he has even gone into theminutiæof the different avenues of learning through which he has stridden. Shakespeare paid considerable attention to medicine, and has furnished some of the finest specimens of the medical character that have ever been drawn by any writer. His Cerimon, in Pericles, is a most noble one. He speaks for himself:

’Tis known, I everHave studied physic, through which secret art,By turning o’er authorities, I have(Together with my practice,) made familiarTo me and to my aid, the bless’d infusionsThat dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;And I can speak of the disturbancesThat nature works, and of her cures; which doth give meA more content in course of true delightThan to be thirsty after tottering honour,Or tie my treasure up in silken bagsTo please the fool and death.Act III., Sc. II.

And others speak of him:

Hundreds call themselvesYour creatures, who by you have been restored:And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but evenYour purse, still open, hath built lord CerimonSuch strong renown as time shall ne’er decay.Act III., Sc. II.

Dowden says, “Cerimon, who is master of the secrets of nature, who is liberal in his ‘learned charity,’ who held it ever

‘Virtue and cunning were endowments greaterThan nobleness and riches,’

is like a first study of Prospero;” while Furnivall thinks that he represents to some extent the famous Stratford physician, Dr. John Hall, who married Shakespeare’s eldest daughter Susanna.

What an excellent physician was Gerard de Narbon, Helena’s father, who is referred to in All’s Well:

This young gentlewoman had a father, whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made Nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for the king’s sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of the king’s disease. * * * * He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his right to be so. * * * The king * * * spoke of him admiringly and mournfully: he was skillful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.

Act I., Sc. I.

How long is’t, count,Since the physician at your father’s died?If he were living, I would try him yet;—* * * * * the rest have worn me outWith several applications: nature and sicknessDebate it at their leisure.Act I., Sc. II.My father’s skill, which was the greatest of his profession.Act I., Sc. III.

My father’s skill, which was the greatest of his profession.Act I., Sc. III.

Another worthy physician is to be found in Cymbeline. Cornelius argues with the queen against her designs, and failing in this he completely thwarts her murderous intentions by giving her a false compound.

Queen.Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?Cor.* * * I beseech your grace, without offence,My conscience bids me ask,—wherefore you haveCommanded of me these most poisonous compounds,Which are the movers of a languishing death;But though slow, deadly?

Queen.Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

Cor.* * * I beseech your grace, without offence,My conscience bids me ask,—wherefore you haveCommanded of me these most poisonous compounds,Which are the movers of a languishing death;But though slow, deadly?

Your highnessShall from this practice but make hard your heart:Besides, the seeing these effects will beBoth noisome and infectious.

[Aside.] I do suspect you, madame;But you shall do no harm.* * * I do not like her. She doth think she hasStrange ling’ring poisons: I do know her spirit,And will not trust one of her malice withA drug of such damn’d nature. Those she hasWill stupify and dull the sense awhile;* * * * * * but there isNo danger in what show of death it makes,More than the locking up the spirits a time,To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool’dWith a most false effect; and I the truerSo to be false with her.Act I., Sc. V.The queen, sir, very oft importun’d meTo temper poisons for her; still pretendingThe satisfaction of her knowledge onlyIn killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purposeWas of more danger, did compound for herA certain stuff, which, being ta’en, would ceaseThe present power of life; but in short timeAll offices of nature should againDo their due function.Act V., Sc. V.

The queen, sir, very oft importun’d meTo temper poisons for her; still pretendingThe satisfaction of her knowledge onlyIn killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purposeWas of more danger, did compound for herA certain stuff, which, being ta’en, would ceaseThe present power of life; but in short timeAll offices of nature should againDo their due function.Act V., Sc. V.

Macbeth supplies us with a wise member of the profession, who, at a time when charlatans without number were promising to cure every malady, sees clearly that Lady Macbeth’s disease is beyond his power, and so informs Macbeth.

This disease is beyond my practice:* * * * * * infected mindsTo their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.More needs she the divine than the physician:

Remove from her the means of all annoyance,And still keep eyes upon her.Act V., Sc. I.King Macb.How does your patient, doctor?Doct.Not so sick, my lord,As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,That keep her from her rest.King Macb.Cure her of that:Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d;Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;Raze out the written troubles of the brain;And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuffWhich weighs upon the heart?Doct.Therein the patientMust minister to himself.King Macb.Throw physic to the dogs,I’ll none of it.Macbeth, Act V., Sc. III.

Remove from her the means of all annoyance,And still keep eyes upon her.Act V., Sc. I.

King Macb.How does your patient, doctor?

Doct.Not so sick, my lord,As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,That keep her from her rest.

King Macb.Cure her of that:Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d;Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;Raze out the written troubles of the brain;And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuffWhich weighs upon the heart?

Doct.Therein the patientMust minister to himself.

King Macb.Throw physic to the dogs,I’ll none of it.Macbeth, Act V., Sc. III.

In King Lear also appears a physician worthy of the name. The last scene of the fourth act shows his excellent skill in treating Lear’s case. Dr. Bucknill, of England, in writing of it twenty-five years ago, says: “We confess, almost with shame, that although near two centuries and a half have passed since Shakespeare thus wrote we have very little to add to his method of treating the insane as thus pointed out.”

Dr. Butts, in Henry VIII, and Dr. Caius, in Merry Wives, play rather unimportant parts. He compliments the profession by putting this speech in the mouth of a madman:

Timon to Banditti:Trust not the physician;His antidotes are poison, and he slaysMore than you rob.Timon of Athens, Act IV., Sc. III.

And bringing this one from the lips of an ignorant prostitute:

Nay, will you cast away your child on a fool and a physician?Merry Wives, Act III., Sc. IV.

Reference to the physician is frequently made throughout his works.

Cor.The queen is dead.Cym.Whom worse than a physicianWould this report become. But I consider,By med’cine life may be prolong’d, yet deathWill seize the doctor too.Cymbeline, Act V., Sc. V.* * * * doctor-like, controlling skill.Sonnets, LXVI.We * * * may not be so credulous of cure,When our most learned doctors leave us.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. I.Kill thy physician, and the fee bestowUpon the foul disease.King Lear, Act I., Sc. I.Thou speak’st like a physician, Helicanus;That minister’st a potion unto me,That thou would’st tremble to receive thyself.Pericles, Act I., Sc. II.The patient dies while the physician sleeps.Lucrece.The physicianAngry that his prescriptions are not keptHath left me.Sonnets, CXLVII.Testy sick men, when their deaths be near,No news but health from their physicians know.Sonnets, CXL.His friends, like physicians, thrice give him over.Timon of Athens, Act III., Sc. III.He is the wiser man, master doctor; he is a curer of souls,and you a curer of bodies.Merry Wives, Act II., Sc. III.A poor physician’s daughter my wife! DisdainRather corrupt me ever.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. III.Doctors, less famous for their cures than fees.Byron—Don Juan, Canto XIV., Verse XLVIII.

Cor.The queen is dead.Cym.Whom worse than a physicianWould this report become. But I consider,By med’cine life may be prolong’d, yet deathWill seize the doctor too.Cymbeline, Act V., Sc. V.

* * * * doctor-like, controlling skill.Sonnets, LXVI.

We * * * may not be so credulous of cure,When our most learned doctors leave us.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. I.

Kill thy physician, and the fee bestowUpon the foul disease.King Lear, Act I., Sc. I.

Thou speak’st like a physician, Helicanus;That minister’st a potion unto me,That thou would’st tremble to receive thyself.Pericles, Act I., Sc. II.

The patient dies while the physician sleeps.Lucrece.

The physicianAngry that his prescriptions are not keptHath left me.Sonnets, CXLVII.

Testy sick men, when their deaths be near,No news but health from their physicians know.Sonnets, CXL.

His friends, like physicians, thrice give him over.Timon of Athens, Act III., Sc. III.

He is the wiser man, master doctor; he is a curer of souls,and you a curer of bodies.Merry Wives, Act II., Sc. III.

A poor physician’s daughter my wife! DisdainRather corrupt me ever.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. III.

Doctors, less famous for their cures than fees.Byron—Don Juan, Canto XIV., Verse XLVIII.

Like a port sculler, one physician pliesAnd all his art and all his skill he tries;But two physicians, like a pair of oars,Conduct you faster to the Stygian shores.This is the way physicians mend or end us,Secundum artem: but although we sneerIn health—when ill, we call them to attend usWithout the least propensity to jeer;While that “hiatus maxime deflendus”To be filled up by spade or mattock, ’s near,Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe,We tease mild Baillie, or soft Abernethy.Byron—Don Juan, Canto X, Verse XLII.God and the doctor we alike adore,But only when in danger, not before;The danger o’er, both are alike requited,God is forgotten, and the doctor slighted.The doctor says so * * * * * ** * * * * * * they sometimesAre soothsayers and always cunning men.Which doctor was it?Ben Jonson—Magnetic Lady, Act II., Sc. I.

Like a port sculler, one physician pliesAnd all his art and all his skill he tries;But two physicians, like a pair of oars,Conduct you faster to the Stygian shores.

This is the way physicians mend or end us,Secundum artem: but although we sneerIn health—when ill, we call them to attend usWithout the least propensity to jeer;While that “hiatus maxime deflendus”To be filled up by spade or mattock, ’s near,Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe,We tease mild Baillie, or soft Abernethy.Byron—Don Juan, Canto X, Verse XLII.

God and the doctor we alike adore,But only when in danger, not before;The danger o’er, both are alike requited,God is forgotten, and the doctor slighted.

The doctor says so * * * * * ** * * * * * * they sometimesAre soothsayers and always cunning men.Which doctor was it?Ben Jonson—Magnetic Lady, Act II., Sc. I.

A side thrust at the experimenters in the profession is found in Cymbeline.

I do know her spirit,And will not trust one of her malice withA drug of such damn’d nature. Those she hasWill stupify and dull the sense awhile;Which first, perchance, she’ll prove on cats and dogs,Then afterwards up higher.Act I., Sc. V.I can smile, and murder whiles I smile.Henry VI.—3d, Act III., Sc. II.

I can smile, and murder whiles I smile.Henry VI.—3d, Act III., Sc. II.

He has in several plays shown his contempt for the “prating mountebank” or “doting wizard.”

They brought one Pinch, a hungry, lean-fac’d villain,A mere anatomy, a mountebank,A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller;A needy, hollow-ey’d, sharp-looking wretch,A living dead man: this pernicious slave,Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer,And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,And with no face, as ’twere, out-facing me,Cries out I was possessedComedy of Errors, Act V., Sc. I.I say we must notSo stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope.To prostitute our past-cure maladyTo empirics; or to dissever soOur great self and our credit, to esteemA senseless help, when help past sense we deem.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. I.

I say we must notSo stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope.To prostitute our past-cure maladyTo empirics; or to dissever soOur great self and our credit, to esteemA senseless help, when help past sense we deem.All’s Well, Act II., Sc. I.

Back to Index Next