CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER X.OBSERVATIONS ONROMEO AND JULIET; ONTHE TAMING OF THE SHREW; ONTHE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA; ONKING RICHARD THE THIRD; ONKING RICHARD THE SECOND; ONKING HENRY THE FOURTH, PARTS I. & II.; ONTHE MERCHANT OF VENICE, AND ONHAMLET—DISSERTATION ON THEAGENCYOFSPIRITSANDAPPARITIONS, AND ON THEGHOSTINHAMLET.

OBSERVATIONS ONROMEO AND JULIET; ONTHE TAMING OF THE SHREW; ONTHE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA; ONKING RICHARD THE THIRD; ONKING RICHARD THE SECOND; ONKING HENRY THE FOURTH, PARTS I. & II.; ONTHE MERCHANT OF VENICE, AND ONHAMLET—DISSERTATION ON THEAGENCYOFSPIRITSANDAPPARITIONS, AND ON THEGHOSTINHAMLET.

In endeavouring to ascertain the chronological series of our author's plays, we must ever hold in mind, that, in general, nothing more thana choice of probabilitiesis before us, and that, whilst weighing their preponderancy, the slightest additional circumstance, so equally are they sometimes balanced, may turn the scale. It appears to us, that an occurrence of this kind will be found to point out, more accurately than hitherto, the precise period to which thefirstsketch of the following tragedy may be ascribed.

7.Romeo and Juliet: 1593. The passage in this play on which the commentators have chiefly relied for the establishment of their respective dates, runs thus:—

"Nurse.Even or odd, of all days in the year,Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she (Juliet) befourteen.That shall she, marry; I remember it well.'Tis sincethe earthquakenoweleven years;And she waswean'd,—I never shall forget it,—For then she couldstand alone; nay, by the rood,She could haverunandwaddledall about."[356:A]

"Nurse.Even or odd, of all days in the year,

Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she (Juliet) befourteen.

That shall she, marry; I remember it well.

'Tis sincethe earthquakenoweleven years;

And she waswean'd,—I never shall forget it,—

For then she couldstand alone; nay, by the rood,

She could haverunandwaddledall about."[356:A]

Building on Shakspeare's usual custom of alluding to the events of his own time, and transferring them to the scene and period of the piece on which he happened to be engaged, Mr. Tyrwhitt with much probability conjectured, that the poet, in these lines, had inview the earthquake which, according to Stowe[357:A]and Gabriel Harvey, took place in England on the 6th of April, 1580; but then, relying, unfortunately too much, on the computation of the good nurse, he hastily concludes, thatRomeo and Juliet, or a part of it at least, was written in 1591.[357:B]

Mr. Malone, after admitting the inference of Mr. Tyrwhitt, adds another conjecture, that the foundation of this play might be laid in 1591, and finished at a subsequent period[357:C], which period he has assigned in his chronology to the year 1595.[357:D]

Lastly, Mr. Chalmers, principally because Shakspeare appears to have borrowed some imagery in the fifth act, fromDaniel's Complaint of Rosamond, which was entered at Stationers' Hall on the 4th of February, 1592, has ascribed the first sketch ofRomeo and Julietto the spring-time of the same year.[357:E]

Now, adopting the opinion of Mr. Tyrwhitt as to Shakspeare's reference to the earthquake of 1580, a little attention to the lines which the poet has put into the month of his garrulous nurse, will convince us that these gentlemen are alike mistaken in their chronological calculations.

The nurse in the first place tells us, that Juliet was within little more than a fortnight of being fourteen years old, an assertion in which she could not be incorrect, as it is corroborated by Lady Capulet, who thinks her daughter, in consequence of this age, fit for marriage. In the next place she informs us that Juliet was weaned on the day of the earthquake, and as she could then stand and run alone, we must conceive her to have been at this period at least a twelvemonth old; and thirdly, and immediately afterwards we are told, with a contradiction which assigns to Juliet but the age of twelve,—

"'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years."

There can be no doubt, therefore, that this miscalculation ofelevenforthirteenyears, was intended as a characteristic feature of the superannuated nurse, and that, assuming the era of 1580 as the epoch meant to be conveyed in the allusion to the earthquake at Verona, the composition ofRomeo and Julietmust be allotted, not to the years 1591, 1592, or 1595, but to the year 1593.

It appears somewhat singular, indeed, that Mr. Malone, contrary to his usual custom, should have given a place in his Chronology, not to thefirst sketchof this play, but to asupposed completionof it in 1595; more especially when we find, from his own words[358:A], that this, like several other dramas of our bard, was gradually and successively improved, and that, though first printed in 1597, it was not filled up and completed as we now have it, until 1599, when a second edition was published.

Some surprise also must be excited by the reasons which induced Mr. Chalmers to date the first sketch of this tragedy in the spring of 1592. Of these the first, he remarks, "is plainly an allusion to the Faerie Queene, the three first books of which were published in 1590; and which was continually present in our poet's mind; Mercutio, in his airy and satiric speech, cries out,—

"O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.She is the fairies midwife; and she comes,In shape no bigger than aggat stoneOn the fore-finger of an alderman:"[358:B]

"O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.

She is the fairies midwife; and she comes,

In shape no bigger than aggat stone

On the fore-finger of an alderman:"[358:B]

forgetting, that between thepopular fairies, thetiny elves, of Shakspeare, and theallegorical fairiesof Spenser, there is not the smallest similarity, not even a point in contact. The second, drawn from the imitation of Daniel, has been noticed above, and might with as much, if not more probability be assigned for its date in 1593 as in the year preceding.

There is much reason to suppose, from a late communication by Mr. Haslewood, that this play was not altogether founded on Arthur Broke's "Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Juliet," but partly on atheatrical exhibitionof the same story which had taken place anterior to 1562; for in a copy of Broke's poem of this date in the Collection of the Rev. H. White, of the Close, Lichfield, occurs an address "To the Reader," not found in Mr. Capell's impression of 1562, and omitted in the edition of 1587, which closes with the following curious piece of information:—"Though I saw," observes Broke, speaking in reference to his story, "the same argument lately set foorth on the stage with more commendation, then I can looke for: (being there much better set forth then I have or can dooe) yet thesame matterpenned as it is, may serve tolyke good effect, if the readers do brynge with themlyke good myndes, to consider it, which hath the more incouraged me to publishe it, suche as it is."[359:A]

Here we find three important circumstances announced: that a play on this subject had, previous to 1562, beenset forth with no little preparation; that it contained thesame argumentandmatterwith the Tragical History, and that it had beenwell receivedand productive of agood effect! Thirty years, consequently, before Shakspeare's tragedy appeared, had the stage been familiar with this pathetic tale.[359:B]

The play, therefore, as well as the metrical history of Broke, must have departed, in its catastrophe, from the story of Luigi da Porta in which Juliet awakens from her trance before the death of Romeo. It is probable also that the play misled the English translator, and both Shakspeare; for it is remarkable that Broke, who pretends to translate from Bandello, has deserted his supposed original, which, with regard to the denouement, as in every thing else, precisely copies Da Porta, who, it would seem, had the honour of improving on a preceding writer by the introduction of this novel and affecting incident.

"The origin of Shakspeare'sRomeo and Juliet," observes Mr. Dunlop, "has generally been referred to the Giuletta of Luigi da Porta.Of this tale Mr. Douce has attempted to trace the origin as far back as the Greek romance by Xenophon Ephesius; but when it is considered that this work was not published in the lifetime of Luigi da Porta, I do not think the resemblance so strong as to induce us to believe that it was seen by that novelist. His Giuletta is evidently borrowed from the thirty-second novel of Massucio, which must unquestionably be regarded as the ultimate origin of the celebrated drama of Shakspeare, though it has escaped, as far as I know, the notice of his numerous commentators. In the story of Massucio, a young gentleman, who resided in Sienna, is privately married by a friar to a lady of the same place, of whom he was deeply enamoured. Mariotto, the husband, is forced to fly from his country, on account of having killed one of his fellow-citizens in a squabble in the streets. An interview takes place between him and his wife before the separation. After the departure of Mariotto, Giannozza, the bride, is pressed by her friends to marry: she discloses her perplexing situation to the friar, by whom the nuptial ceremony had been performed. He gives her a soporific powder, which she drinks dissolved in water; and the effect of this narcotic is so strong that she is believed to be dead by her friends, and interred according to custom. The accounts of her death reach her husband in Alexandria, whither he had fled, before the arrival of a special messenger, who had been dispatched by the friar to acquaint him with the real posture of affairs. Mariotto forthwith returns in despair to his own country, and proceeds to lament over the tomb of his bride. Before this time she had recovered from her lethargy, and had set out for Alexandria in quest of her husband, who meanwhile is apprehended and executed for the murder he had formerly committed. Giannozza, finding he was not in Egypt, returns to Sienna, and, learning his unhappy fate, retires to a convent, where she soon after dies. The catastrophe here is different from the novel of Luigi da Porta and the drama of Shakspeare, but there is a perfect correspondence in the preliminary incidents. The tale of Massucio was written about 1470, which was long prior to the age of Luigi da Porta, who died in 1531, or of Cardinal Bembo,to whom some have attributed the greater part of the composition."[362:A]

With the exception of the incident which distinguishes the close of the story as related by Luigi da Porta, Shakspeare has worked up the materials which preceded his drama with the most astonishing effect; and by the beauty of his sentiments, the justness of his delineation, and the felicity of his language, he has drawn the most glowing, pathetic, and interesting picture of disastrous love which the world has yet contemplated.

We perceive the highest tone of enthusiasm, combined with the utmost purity, fidelity, and tenderness, pervading every stage of the intercourse betweenRomeo and Juliet: and, elevated as they are, to an almostperfect idealrepresentation of the influence of love, so much of actual nature is interwoven with every expression of their feelings, that our sympathy irresistibly augments with the progress of the fable, and becomes at length almost overwhelming. Indeed, such is the force of the appeal which the poet makes to the heart in this bewitching drama, that, were it not relieved by the occasional intervention of lighter emotions, the effect would be truly painful; but, with his wonted fertility of resource, our author has effected this purpose in a manner, which, while it heightens by the power of contrast, at the same time diversifies the picture, and exhilarates the mind. Every hue of many-coloured life, the effervescence of hope, and the hushed repose of disappointment, the bloom of youth, and the withered aspect of age, the intoxication of rapture, and the bitterness of grief, the scintillations of wit, and the speechless agonies of despair, tears and smiles, groans and laughter, are so blended in the texture of this piece, as to produce the necessary relief, without disturbing the union and harmony of the whole, or impairing, in the smallest degree, the gradually augmenting interest which accompanies the hapless lovers to their tomb.

What, for instance, can be more opposed to each other, and to the youthful victims of the drama, than the characters ofMercutio,Friar Lawrence, and theNurse; yet the brilliancy and gaiety of the first, the philosophic dignity of the second, and the humorous garrulity of the third, while they afford a welcome repose to our feelings, are essential to the developement of the plot, and to the full display of those scenes of terror and distress which alternately freeze and melt the heart, to the last syllable of this sweet and mournful tale.

Numerous as have been its relators, who has told it like our matchless bard? "It was reserved for Shakspeare," remarks Schlegel, in a tone of the finest enthusiasm, "to unite purity of heart and the glow of imagination, sweetness and dignity of manners and passionate violence, in one ideal picture. By the manner in which he has handled it, it has become a glorious song of praise on that inexpressible feeling which ennobles the soul, and gives to it its highest sublimity, and which elevates even the senses themselves into soul, and at the same time is a melancholy elegy on its frailty, from its own nature, and external circumstances; at once the deification and the burial of love. It appears here like a heavenly spark that, descending to the earth, is converted into a flash of lightning, by which mortal creatures are almost in the same moment set on fire and consumed. Whatever is most intoxicating in the odour of a southern spring, languishing in the song of the nightingale, or voluptuous in the first opening of the rose, is breathed into this poem. But even more rapidly than the earliest blossoms of youth and beauty decay, it hurries on from the first timidly-bold declaration of love and modest return, to the most unlimited passion, to an irrevocable union; then, amidst alternating storms of rapture and despair, to the death of the two lovers, who still appear enviable as their love survives them, and as by their death they have obtained a triumph over every separating power. The sweetest and the bitterest, love and hatred, festivity and dark forebodings, tender embraces and sepulchres, the fullness of life and self-annihilation, are all here brought close to each other; and all these contrasts are so blended in theharmonious and wonderful work, into a unity of impresions, that the echo which the whole leaves behind in the mind, resembles a single but endless sigh."[364:A]

8.The Taming of the Shrew: 1594. Nothing appearing to invalidate the conclusion of Mr. Malone, that this was one of our author's earliest plays, we have adhered to his chronology; for the lines quoted by Mr. Chalmers, in order to establish a posterior date,

"'Tis death for any one in MantuaTo come to Padua," &c.[364:B]

"'Tis death for any one in Mantua

To come to Padua," &c.[364:B]

would, if there be any weight in this instance, procure a similar assignment, as to time, for theComedy of Errors, where we find a like prohibition of intercourse:—

——— "If any Syracusan bornCome to the bay of Ephesus, he dies;"[364:C]

——— "If any Syracusan born

Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies;"[364:C]

yet no one, in consequence of such a passage, has entertained an idea of ascribing this comedy to the year 1598.

The outline of the induction to this drama may be traced, as Mr. Douce observes[364:D], through many intermediate copies, to theSleeper Awakenedof the Arabian Nights; but it is most probable, that the immediate source of this prelude, both to the anonymous author of the oldTaming of a Shrew, and to Shakspeare himself, was thestory-booksaid by Warton to have been once in the possession of Collins the poet, a collection of short comic tales, "sett forth by maister Richard Edwards, mayster of her Majesties revels," in the year 1570.[364:E]

From whatever source, however, this apologue may have been directly taken, we cannot but feel highly indebted to Shakspeare for its conversion into a lesson of exquisite moral irony, while, at the same time, it unfolds his wonted richness of humour, and minute delineation of character. The whole, indeed, is conducted with such lightness and frolic spirit, with so many happy touches of risible simplicity, yet chastised by so constant an adherence to nature and verisimilitude, as to form one of the most delightful and instructive sketches.

So admirably drawn is the character of Sly, that we regret to find the interlocution of the groupe before whom the piece is supposed to be performed, has been dropped by our author after the close of the first scene of the play. Here we behold the jolly tinker nodding, and, at length, honestly exclaiming, 'Would't were done!' and, though the integrity of the representation require, that he should finally return to his former state, the transformation, as before, being effected during his sleep, yet we hear no more of this truly comic personage; whereas in the spurious play, he is frequently introduced commenting on the scene, is carried off the stage fast asleep, and, on the termination of the drama, undergoes the necessary metamorphosis.

It would appear, therefore, either that our bard's continuation of the induction has been unaccountably lost, or that he trusted the remainder of Sly's part to the improvisatory ingenuity of the performers; or, what is more likely, that they were instructed to copy a certain portion of what had been written, for this subordinate division of the tinker's character, by the author of the elder play. Some of the observations, indeed, of Sly, as given by the writer of this previous comedy, are incompatible with the fable andDramatis Personæof Shakspeare's production; and have, consequently, been very injudiciously introduced by Mr. Pope; but there are two passages which, with the exception of but two names, are not only accordant with our poet's prelude, but absolutely necessary to its completion. Shakspeare, as we have seen, represents Sly as nodding at the end ofthe first scene; and the parts of the anonymous play to which we allude, are those where the nobleman orders the sleeping tinker to be put into his own apparel again, and where he awakens in this garb, and believes the whole to have been a dream; the only alterations required in thisfinale, being the omission of the Christian appellativeSim, and the conversion ofTapsterintoHostess. These few lines were, most probably, those which Shakspeare selected as a necessary accompaniment to his piece, from the old drama supposed to have been written in 1590[366:A]; and these lines should be withdrawn from the notes in all the modern editions, and, though distinguished as borrowed property, should be immediately connected with the text.[366:B]

As to the play itself, the rapidity and variety of its action, the skilful connection of its double plot, and the strength and vivacity of its principal characters, must for ever ensure its popularity. There is, indeed, a depth and breadth of colouring, in its execution, a boldness and prominency of relief, which may be thought to border upon coarseness; but the result has been an effect equally powerful and interesting, though occasionally, as the subject demanded, somewhat glaring and grotesque.

Petruchio,Katharina, andGrumio, the most important personages of the play, are consistently supported throughout, and their peculiar features touched and brought forward with singular sharpness and spirit; the wild, fantastic humour of the first, the wayward and insolent demeanor of the second, contrasted with the meek, modest, and retired disposition of her sister, together with the inextinguishable wit and drollery of the third, form a picture, at once rich, varied, and pre-eminently diverting.

9.The Two Gentlemen of Verona: 1595. There can be little doubt that the episode ofFelismena, in theDianaofGeorge of Montemayor, was the source whence the principal part of the plot of this play has been taken; for, though the Translation ofBartholomew Yong, was notpublisheduntil 1598, it appears from the translator's "Preface to divers learned Gentlemen," that it had been completed in the year 1582; "it hath lyen by me finished," he says, "Horace'sten and six yeeres more," a declaration which renders it very probable, that the manuscript may have been circulated among his friends, and the more striking parts impressed upon their memory. But we are further informed, in this very preface, that a partial but excellent version of theDiana, had preceded his labours:—"Well might I," says Yong, "have excused these paines, if onelyEdward Paston, Esquier, who heere and there for his own pleasure, as I understand, hath aptly turned out of Spanish into English some leaves that liked him best, had also made an absolute and complete Translation of all the Parts ofDiana: the which, for his travell in that countrey, and great knowledge in that language, accompanied with other learned and good parts in him, had of all others, that ever I heard translate these Bookes, prooved the rarest and worthiest to be embraced." We also learn from Dr. Farmer, that theDianawas translated two or three years before 1598, by one Thomas Wilson; but, he adds, "this work, I am persuaded, was never publishedentirely; perhaps some parts of it were, or the tale might have been translated by others."[367:A]

These intimations sufficiently warrant the conclusion, that Shakspeare may have become familiar with this portion of the Spanish romance, anterior to the publication of Yong's version in 1598; indeed so closely does the story of Proteus and Julia correspond with the episode of Montemayor, that Shakspeare's obligations cannot be mistaken. "He has copied the original," as Mr. Dunlop observes,"in some minute particulars, which clearly evince the source from which the drama has been derived. As for example, in the letter which Proteus addresses to Julia, her rejection of it when offered by her waiting-maid, and the device by which she afterwards attempts to procure a perusal. (Act i. sc. 2.) In several passages, indeed, the dramatist has copied the language of the pastoral."[368:A]

This play, though betraying marks of negligence and haste, especially towards its termination, is yet a most pleasing and instructive composition. There is scarcely a page of it, indeed, that is not pregnant with some just and useful maxim, and we stand amazed at the blind and tasteless decisions of Hanmer, Theobald, and Upton, who not only disputed the authenticity of this drama, but condemned it as a very inferior production.

So far are these opinions, however, from having any just foundation, that we may safely assert the peculiar style of Shakspeare to be vividly impressed on all the parts of this drama, whether serious or comic; and as to its aphoristic wealth, it may be truly said, with Dr. Johnson, that "it abounds with γνωμαι; beyond most of his plays, and few have more lines or passages, which, singly considered, are eminently beautiful."[368:B]

But besides this, justice requires of us to remark, that there is a romantic and pathetic cast, both of sentiment and character, throughout the more elevated parts of this production, which has given to them a peculiar charm. The delineation ofJuliain particular, from the gentleness and modesty of her disposition, the ill requital of her attachment, and the hazardous disguise which she assumes, must be confessed to excite the tenderest emotions of sympathy. This is a character, indeed, which Shakspeare has delighted to embody, and which he has further developed in the lovely and fascinating portraits ofViolaandImogen, who, likeJulia, forsaken or despised, are driven to the same expedients, and, deserting their native roof, performtheir adventurous pilgrimages under similar modes of concealment.[369:A]

A portion also of this romantic enthusiasm has thrown an interest over the characters ofSir EglamourandSilvia, and evanescent as the part of the former is, we see enough of him to regret that he has not been brought more forward on the canvas. He is represented as a gentleman

"Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished,"

and when Silvia, on the eve of her elopement, solicits his assistance, she thus addresses him:—

"Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say,No grief did ever come so near thy heart,As when thy lady and thy true love died,Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity."[369:B]

"Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say,

No grief did ever come so near thy heart,

As when thy lady and thy true love died,

Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity."[369:B]

Nor are the ludicrous scenes less indicative of the hand of Shakspeare, the part of Launce, which forms the chief source of mirth in this play, being supported throughout with undeviating wit and humour, and with an effect greatly superior to that of the comic dialogue ofLove's Labour's LostandThe Comedy of Errors.

Nor must we forget to remark, that the versification of theTwo Gentlemen of Veronais peculiarly sweet and harmonious, and very happily corresponds with the delicacy, simplicity, and tenderness of feeling which have so powerfully shed their never-failing fascination over many of its serious scenes. How exquisitely, for instance, does the rhythm of the following lines, coalesce with and expand their sentiment and imagery:—

"Julia.Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!—————————— Tell me some good mean,How, with my honour, I may undertakeA journey to my loving Proteus.Luc.Alas! the way is wearisome and long.Jul.A true-devoted pilgrim is not wearyTo measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly,And when the flight is made to one so dear.—Luc.Better forbear, till Proteus make return.—Jul.The current, that with gentle murmur glides,Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;But, when his fair course is not hindered,He makes sweet musick with the enamel'd stones,Giving a gentle kiss to every sedgeHe overtaketh in his pilgrimage;And so by many winding nooks he strays,With willing sport, to the wild ocean.Then let me go, and hinder not my course:I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,And make a pastime of each weary step.Till the last step have brought me to my love;And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,A blessed soul doth in Elysium."[370:A]

"Julia.Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!—————————— Tell me some good mean,How, with my honour, I may undertakeA journey to my loving Proteus.

"Julia.Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!

—————————— Tell me some good mean,

How, with my honour, I may undertake

A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc.Alas! the way is wearisome and long.

Jul.A true-devoted pilgrim is not wearyTo measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly,And when the flight is made to one so dear.—

Jul.A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary

To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;

Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly,

And when the flight is made to one so dear.—

Luc.Better forbear, till Proteus make return.—

Jul.The current, that with gentle murmur glides,Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;But, when his fair course is not hindered,He makes sweet musick with the enamel'd stones,Giving a gentle kiss to every sedgeHe overtaketh in his pilgrimage;And so by many winding nooks he strays,With willing sport, to the wild ocean.Then let me go, and hinder not my course:I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,And make a pastime of each weary step.Till the last step have brought me to my love;And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,A blessed soul doth in Elysium."[370:A]

Jul.The current, that with gentle murmur glides,

Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;

But, when his fair course is not hindered,

He makes sweet musick with the enamel'd stones,

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;

And so by many winding nooks he strays,

With willing sport, to the wild ocean.

Then let me go, and hinder not my course:

I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,

And make a pastime of each weary step.

Till the last step have brought me to my love;

And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,

A blessed soul doth in Elysium."[370:A]

10.King Richard the Third: 1595. It is the conjecture of Mr. Malone, and by which he has been guided in his chronological arrangement, that this play, andKing Richard the Second, werewritten,acted,registered, andprintedin the year 1597. That they wereregisteredandpublishedduring this year, we have indisputable authority[370:B]; but that they werewrittenandactedwithin the same period, is a supposition without any proof, and, to say the least of it, highly improbable.

Mr. Chalmers, struck by this incautious assertion, of two such plays being written, acted, and published in a few months[370:C]; reflecting thatShakspeare, impressed by the character of Glocester, in his play ofHenry the Sixth, might be induced to resume hisnationaldramas by continuing theHistorieof Richard, to which he might be more immediately stimulated by his knowledge that an enterlude entitled theTragedie of Richard the Third, had been exhibited in 1593, or 1594; and ingeniously surmising thatRichard the Secondwas a subsequent production, because it ushered in a distinct and concatenated series of history, has, under this view of the subject, given precedence toRichard the Thirdin the order of composition, and assigned its origin to the year 1595.

The description of a small volume of Epigrams by John Weever, in Mr. Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature, has since confirmed the chronology of Mr. Chalmers, so far as it proves thatoneof Shakspeare'sRichardshad certainly been acted in 1595.

The book in question, in the collection of Mr. Comb, of Henley, and supposed to be a unique, was published in 1599, at which period, according to the date of the print of him prefixed by Cecill, the author was twenty-three years old; but Weever tells us, in some introductory stanzas, that when he wrote the poems which compose this volume, he wasnottwenty years old; that he was one

"That twenty twelve months yet didnever know,"

consequently, these Epigramsmust have been written in 1595, though not printed before 1599. They exhibit the following title: "Epigrammes in the oldest Cut and newest Fashion. A twise seven Houres (in so many Weekes) Studie. No longer (like the Fashion) not unlike to continue. The first seven, John Weever.

Sit voluisse sit valuisse.

At London: printed by V. S. for Thomas Bushell, and are to be sold at his shop, at the great North doore of Paules. 1599. 12mo."

Of this collection the twenty-second Epigram of the fourth Weeke, which we have formerly had occasion to notice, and which we shall now give at length, is addressed

"AD GULIELMUM SHAKESPEARE.

Honie-Tongd Shakespeare, when I saw thine issue,I swore Apollo got them, and none other,Their rosie-tainted features clothed in tissue,Some heaven-born goddesse said to be their mother.Rose cheeckt Adonis with his amber tresses,Faire fire-hot Venus charming him to love her,Chaste Lucretia, virgine-like her dresses,Proud lust-stung Tarquine seeking still to prove her,Romeo,Richard, more whose names I know not,Their sugred tongues and power attractive beauty,Say they are saints, althogh that Sts they shew not,For thousand vowes to them subjective dutie,They burn in love thy children Shakspeare let themGo we thy muse more nymphish brood beget them."[372:A]

Honie-Tongd Shakespeare, when I saw thine issue,

I swore Apollo got them, and none other,

Their rosie-tainted features clothed in tissue,

Some heaven-born goddesse said to be their mother.

Rose cheeckt Adonis with his amber tresses,

Faire fire-hot Venus charming him to love her,

Chaste Lucretia, virgine-like her dresses,

Proud lust-stung Tarquine seeking still to prove her,

Romeo,Richard, more whose names I know not,

Their sugred tongues and power attractive beauty,

Say they are saints, althogh that Sts they shew not,

For thousand vowes to them subjective dutie,

They burn in love thy children Shakspeare let them

Go we thy muse more nymphish brood beget them."[372:A]

We have no doubt that by theRichardof this epigram the author meant to imply the play ofRichard the Third, which, according to our arrangement, was theimmediately succeeding tragedytoRomeo, and may be said to have been almost promised by the poet in the two concluding scenes of theLast Part of King Henry the Sixth, a promise which, as we believe, was carried into execution after an interval of three years.[372:B]

The character ofRichard the Third, which had been opened in so masterly a manner in theConcluding Part of Henry the Sixth, is, in this play, developed in all its horrible grandeur.

It is, in fact, the picture of a demoniacal incarnation, moulding the passions and foibles of mankind, with super-human precision, to its own iniquitous purposes. Of this isolated and peculiar state of being Richard himself seems sensible, when he declares—

"I have no brother, I am like no brother:And this word love, which grey-beards call divine,Be resident in men like one another,And not in me: I am myself alone."[373:A]

"I have no brother, I am like no brother:

And this word love, which grey-beards call divine,

Be resident in men like one another,

And not in me: I am myself alone."[373:A]

From a delineation like this Milton must have caught many of the most striking features of his Satanic portrait. The same union of unmitigated depravity, and consummate intellectual energy, characterises both, and renders what would otherwise be loathsome and disgusting, an object of sublimity and shuddering admiration.

Richard, stript as he is of all the softer feelings, and all the common charities, of humanity, possessed of

"neither pity, love, nor fear,"[373:B]

and loaded with every dangerous and dreadful vice, would, were it not for his unconquerable powers of mind, be insufferably revolting. But, though insatiate in his ambition, envious, and hypocritical in his disposition, cruel, bloody, and remorseless in all his deeds, he displays such an extraordinary share of cool and determined courage, such alacrity and buoyancy of spirit, such constant self-possession, such an intuitive intimacy with the workings of the human heart, and such matchless skill in rendering them subservient to his views, as so far to subdue our detestation and abhorrence of his villany, that we, at length, contemplate this fiend in human shape with a mingled sensation of intense curiosity and grateful terror.

The task, however, which Shakspeare undertook was, in one instance, more arduous than that which Milton subsequently attempted; for, in addition to the hateful constitution of Richard's moral character, he had to contend also against the prejudices arising from personal deformity, from a figure

————————— "curtail'd of it's fair proportion,Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before it's timeInto this breathing world, scarce half made up;"[374:A]

————————— "curtail'd of it's fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before it's time

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up;"[374:A]

and yet, in spite of these striking personal defects, which were considered, also, as indicatory of the depravity and wickedness of his nature, the poet has contrived, through the medium of the high mental endowments just enumerated, not only to obviate disgust, but to excite extraordinary admiration.

One of the most prominent and detestable vices indeed, in Richard's character, his hypocrisy, connected, as it always is, in his person, with the most profound skill and dissimulation, has, owing to the various parts which it induces him to assume, most materially contributed to the popularity of this play, both on the stage, and in the closet. He is one who can

—— "frame his face to all occasions,"[374:B]

and accordingly appears, during the course of his career, under the contrasted forms of a subject and a monarch, a politician and a wit, a soldier and a suitor, a sinner and a saint; and in all with such apparent ease and fidelity to nature, that while to the explorer of the human mind he affords, by his penetration and address, a subject of peculiar interest and delight, he offers to the practised performer a study well calculated to call forth his fullest and finest exertions. He, therefore, whose histrionic powers are adequate to the justexhibition of this character, may be said to have attained the highest honours of his profession; and, consequently, the popularity ofRichard the Third, notwithstanding the moral enormity of its hero, may be readily accounted for, when we recollect, that the versatile and consummate hypocrisy of the tyrant has been embodied by the talents of such masterly performers as Garrick, Kemble, Cook, and Kean.

So overwhelming and exclusive is the character of Richard, that the comparative insignificancy of all the other persons of the drama may be necessarily inferred; they are reflected to us, as it were, from his mirror, and become more or less important, and more or less developed, as he finds it necessary to act upon them; so that our estimate of their character is entirely founded on his relative conduct, through which we may very correctly appreciate their strength or weakness.

The only exception to this remark is in the person of Queen Margaret, who, apart from the agency of Richard, and dimly seen in the darkest recesses of the picture, pours forth, in union with the deep tone of this tragedy, the most dreadful curses and imprecations; with such a wild and prophetic fury, indeed, as to involve the whole scene in tenfold gloom and horror.

We have to add that the moral of this play is great and impressive. Richard, having excited a general sense of indignation, and a general desire of revenge, and, unaware of his danger from having lost, through familiarity with guilt, all idea of moral obligation, becomes at length the victim of his own enormous crimes; he falls not unvisited by the terrors of conscience, for, on the eve of danger and of death, the retribution of another world is placed before him; the spirits of those whom he had murdered, reveal the awful sentence of his fate, and his bosom heaves with the infliction of eternal torture.

11.King Richard the Second: 1596. Our great poet having been induced to improve and re-compose the Dramatic History ofHenry the Sixth, and to continue the character of Gloucester to the close of his usurpation, in the drama ofRichard the Third, verynaturally, from the success which had crowned these efforts, reverted to the prior part of our national story for fresh subjects, and, led by a common principle of association, selected for the commencement of a new series of historical plays, which should form an unbroken chain with those that he had previously written, the reign ofRichard the Second. On this account, therefore, and from the intimation of time, noticed by Mr. Chalmers, towards the conclusion of the first[376:A]act, we are led to coincide with this gentleman in assigning the composition ofRichard the Secondto the year 1596.

Of the character of this unfortunate young prince, Shakspeare has given us a delineation in conformity with the general tone of history, but heightened by many exquisite and pathetic touches. Richard was beautiful in his person, and elegant in his manners[376:B]; affectionate, generous, and faithful in his attachments, and though intentionally neglected in his education, not defective in understanding. Accustomed, by his designing uncles, to the company of the idle and the dissipated, and to the unrestrained indulgence of his passions, we need not wonder that levity, ostentation, and prodigality, should mark his subsequent career, and should ultimately lead him to destruction.

Though the errors of his misguided youth are forcibly depicted in the drama, yet the poet has reserved his strength for the period of adversity. Richard, descending from his throne, discovers the unexpected virtues of humility, fortitude, and resignation, and becomes not only an object of love and pity, but of admiration; and there is nothing in the whole compass of our author's plays better calculatedto produce, with full effect, these mingled emotions of compassion and esteem, than the passages which paint the sentiments and deportment of the fallen monarch. Patience, submission, and misery, were never more feelingly expressed than in the following lines:

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