CHAPTER XII.OBSERVATIONS ONJULIUS CÆSAR; ONANTONY AND CLEOPATRA; ONCORIOLANUS; ONTHE WINTER'S TALE; ONTHE TEMPEST; DISSERTATION ON THEGENERAL BELIEFOF THE TIMES IN THEART OF MAGIC, AND ON SHAKSPEARE's MANAGEMENT OF THIS SUPERSTITION, AS EXHIBITED INTHE TEMPEST—OBSERVATIONS ONOTHELLO; ONTWELFTH NIGHT, AND ON THEPLAYS ASCRIBEDTO SHAKSPEARE—SUMMARY OF SHAKSPEARE'S DRAMATIC CHARACTER.
OBSERVATIONS ONJULIUS CÆSAR; ONANTONY AND CLEOPATRA; ONCORIOLANUS; ONTHE WINTER'S TALE; ONTHE TEMPEST; DISSERTATION ON THEGENERAL BELIEFOF THE TIMES IN THEART OF MAGIC, AND ON SHAKSPEARE's MANAGEMENT OF THIS SUPERSTITION, AS EXHIBITED INTHE TEMPEST—OBSERVATIONS ONOTHELLO; ONTWELFTH NIGHT, AND ON THEPLAYS ASCRIBEDTO SHAKSPEARE—SUMMARY OF SHAKSPEARE'S DRAMATIC CHARACTER.
The Roman tragedy of Shakspeare, including the three pieces ofJulius Cæsar,Antony and Cleopatra, andCoriolanus, exhibit the poet under a new aspect. We have seen him dramatise the annals of his own country with matchless skill and effect; we have beheld him touching with a discriminative pencil the heroes of ancient Greece, and he now brings before us, clothed in the majesty of republican greatness, or surrounded with the splendour of illimitable power, the most illustrious patriots and warriors of the Roman world.
The task of combining a faithful adhesion to the records of history with that grandeur and freedom of conception which characterise the unfettered poet, could alone have been achieved by the genius of Shakspeare. He has, accordingly, not only fixed his scene at Rome, during the days of Coriolanus or of Cæsar, but he has resuscitated the manners and the modes of thinking of their respective ages. We enter with enthusiasm into the characters and fortunes of these masters of the civilised globe, and the patriotism and martial glory, the very feelings and public life of the eternal city again start into existence.
The chronology of these three plays having been ascertained with as much probability, as the subject will admit, it is only necessary to observe, as a preliminary remark, that the dates of the first and second are adopted from Mr. Malone, and that of the third from Mr. Chalmers; and to these critics the reader is referred for facts andinferences which, not being susceptible as we conceive of further extension or improvement, it would be useless here to repeat.
29.Julius Cæsar: 1607. Of this tragedy Brutus is the principal and most interesting character, and to the developement of his motives, and to the result of his actions, is the greater part of the play appropriated; for it is not the fall of Cæsar, but that of Brutus, which constitutes the catastrophe. Cæsar is introduced indeed expressing that characteristic confidence in himself, which has been ascribed to him by history; and his influence over those who surround him, the effect of high mental powers and unrivalled military success, is represented as very great; but he takes little part in the business of the scene, and his assassination occurs at the commencement of the third act.
While the conqueror of the world is thus in some degree thrown into the shade, Brutus, the favourite of the poet, is brought forward, not only adorned with all the virtues attributed to him by Plutarch, but, in order to excite a deeper interest in his favour, and to prove, that not jealousy, ambition, or revenge, but unalloyed patriotism was the sole director of his conduct, our author has drawn him as possessing the utmost sweetness and gentleness of disposition, sympathising with all that suffer, and unwilling to inflict pain but from motives of the strongest moral necessity. He has most feelingly and beautifully painted him in the relations of a master, a friend, and a husband; his kindness to his domestics, his attachment to his friends, and his love for Portia, to whom he declares, that she is
"As dear to him, as are the ruddy dropsThat visit his sad heart,"
"As dear to him, as are the ruddy dropsThat visit his sad heart,"
"As dear to him, as are the ruddy drops
That visit his sad heart,"
demonstrating, that nothing but a high sense of public duty could have induced him to lift his hand against the life of Cæsar.
It is this struggle between the humanity of his temper and his ardent and hereditary love of liberty, now threatened with extinction by the despotism of Cæsar, that gives to Brutus that grandeur of character and that predominancy over his associates in purity ofintention, which secured to him the admiration of his contemporaries, and to which posterity has done ample justice through the medium of Shakspeare, who has placed the virtues of Brutus, and the contest in his bosom between private regard and patriotic duty, in the noblest light; wringing even from the lips of his bitterest enemy, the fullest eulogium on the rectitude of his principles, and the goodness of his heart:—
"Ant.This was the noblest Roman of them all.All the conspirators, save only he,Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;He, only, in a general honest thought,And common good to all, made one of them.His life was gentle; and the elementsSo mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,And say to all the world,This was a man!"[492:A]
"Ant.This was the noblest Roman of them all.All the conspirators, save only he,Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;He, only, in a general honest thought,And common good to all, made one of them.His life was gentle; and the elementsSo mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,And say to all the world,This was a man!"[492:A]
"Ant.This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He, only, in a general honest thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world,This was a man!"[492:A]
In the conduct and action of this drama, though closely pursuing the occurrences and characters as detailed by Plutarch in his life of Brutus, there is a great display of ingenuity, and much mechanism in the concentration of the events, producing that integrity and unity, which, without any modification of the truth of history, moulds a small portion of an immense chain of incidents into a perfect and satisfactory whole. The formation of the conspiracy, the death of the dictator, the harangue of Antony and its effects, the flight of Brutus and Cassius, their quarrel and reconcilement, and finally their noble stand for liberty against the sanguinary and atrocious triumvirate, are concatenated with the most happy art; and though, after the fall of Cæsar, nothing but the patriotic heroism of Brutus and Cassius is left to occupy the stage, the apprehensions and the interest which have been awakened for their fate, are sustained, and even augmented to the last scene of the tragedy.
30.Antony and Cleopatra: 1608. Shakspeare has here spread a wider canvas; he has admitted a vast variety of groups, some ofwhich are crowded, and some too isolated, whilst in the back ground are dimly seen personages and events that, for the sake of perspicuity, ought to have been brought forward with some share of boldness and relief. The subject, in fact, is too complex and extended, to admit of a due degree of simplicity and wholeness, and the mind is consequently hurried by a multiplicity of incidents, for whose introduction and succession we are not sufficiently prepared.
Yet, notwithstanding these defects, this is a piece which gratifies us by its copiousness and animation; such, indeed, is the variety of its transactions, and the rapidity of its transitions, that the attention is never suffered, even for a moment, to grow languid; and, though occasionally surprised by abruptness, or want of connection, pursues the footsteps of the poet with eager and unabated delight.
Neither is the merit of this play exclusively founded on the vivacity and entertainment of its fable; it presents us with three characters which start from their respective groups with a prominency, with a depth of light and shade, that gives the freshness of existing energy to the records of far distant ages.
The martial but voluptuous Antony, whose bosom is the seat of great qualities and great vices; now magnanimous, enterprising, and heroic; now weak, irresolute, and slothful; alternately the slave of ambition and of effeminacy, yet generous, open-hearted, and unsuspicious, is strikingly opposed to the cold-blooded and selfish Octavius. The keeping of these characters is sustained to the last, whilst Cleopatra, the mistress of every seductive and meretricious art, a compound of vanity, sensuality, and pride, adored by the former, and despised by the latter, an instrument of ruin to the one, and of greatness to the other, is decorated, as to personal charms and exterior splendour, with all that the most lavish imagination can bestow.
31.Coriolanus: 1609. This play, which refers us to the third century of the Republic, is of a very peculiar character, involving in its course a large intermixture of humorous and political matter. It affords us a picture of what may be termed a Roman electioneering mob; and the insolence of newly-acquired authority on the part ofthe tribunes, and the ungovernable licence and malignant ribaldry of the plebeians, are forcibly, but naturally expressed. The popular anarchy, indeed, is rendered highly diverting through the intervention of Menenius Agrippa, whose sarcastic wit, and shrewd good sense, have lent to these turbulent proceedings a very extraordinary degree of interest and effect. His "pretty tale," as he calls it, ofthe belly and the members, which he recites to the people, during their mutiny occasioned by the dearth of corn, is a delightful and improved expansion of the old apologue, originally attributed to Menenius by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, but taken immediately by Shakspeare from Plutarch's Life of Coriolanus, and from Camden's Remains.
The serious and elevated persons of the drama are delineated in colours of equal, if not superior strength. The unrivalled military prowess of Coriolanus, in whose nervous arm, "Death, that dark spirit," dwelt; the severe sublimity of his character, his stern and unbending hauteur, and his undisguised contempt of all that is vulgar, pusillanimous, and base, are brought before us with a raciness and power of impression, and, notwithstanding a very liberal use both of the sentiments and language of his Plutarch, with a freedom of outline which, even in Shakspeare, may be allowed to excite our astonishment.[494:A]
Among the female characters, a very important part is necessarily attached to the person of Volumnia; the fate of Rome itself depending upon her parental influence and authority. The poet has accordingly done full justice to the great qualities which the Cheronean sage has ascribed to this energetic woman; the daring loftiness of her spirit, her bold and masculine eloquence, and, above all, her patrioticdevotion, being marked by the most spirited and vigorous touches of his pencil.
The numerous vicissitudes in the story; its rapidity of action; its contrast of character; the splendid vigour of its serious, and the satirical sharpness and relish of its more familiar scenes, together with the animation which prevails throughout all its parts, have conferred on this play, both in the closet, and on the stage, a remarkable degree of attraction.
32.The Winter's Tale: 1610. That this play was written after the accession of King James, appears probable from the following lines:—
——— "If I could find exampleOf thousands, that had struck anointed kingsAndflourished after, I'd not do't; but sinceNor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,Let villany itself forswear it."[495:A]
——— "If I could find exampleOf thousands, that had struck anointed kingsAndflourished after, I'd not do't; but sinceNor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,Let villany itself forswear it."[495:A]
——— "If I could find example
Of thousands, that had struck anointed kings
Andflourished after, I'd not do't; but since
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,
Let villany itself forswear it."[495:A]
"If, as Mr. Blackstone supposes," observes Mr. Douce, "this be an allusion to the death of the Queen of Scots, it exhibits Shakspeare in the character of a cringing flatterer, accommodating himself to existing circumstances, and is moreover an extremely severe one. But the perpetrator of that atrocious murderdid flourishmany years afterwards. May it not rather be designed as a compliment to King James, on his escape from the Gowrie conspiracy, an event often brought to the people's recollection during his reign, from the day on which it happened being made a day of thanksgiving?"[495:B]
Thus Osborne tells us, that "amongst a number of other Novelties, he (King James) brought anew Holydayinto the Church of England,wherein God had publick thanks given him for his Majesties deliverance out of the hands of E. Goury. And this fell out upon Aug. 5[495:C];" and from Wilson we learn, the title which this day bore in the almanacks of the time:—"The fifth of August this year (1603)had a new title given to it.The Kings Deliveries in the Northmust resound here."[496:A]
From an allusion to this play and toThe Tempest, in Ben Jonson's Induction toBartholomew Fair, 1614, there is some reason to conclude, that these dramas were written within a short period of each other, and thatThe Winter's Talewas the elder of the two. "He is loth," he says, "to make nature afraid in his plays, like those that begetTales,Tempests, and such like drolleries."[496:B]Now, it will be found in the next article, that we have no triflingdatafor attributing the composition ofThe Tempestto the year 1611; and, could it be rendered highly probable, that the production ofThe Winter's Taledid not occurbefore1610, an almost incontrovertible support would be given to our chronology of both plays. It happens, therefore, very fortunately, that in a note by Mr. Malone, annexed to his chronological notice ofThe Winter's Tale, in the edition of our author's plays of 1803, a piece of information occurs, that seems absolutely to prove the very fact of which we are in search. It appears, says this Critic, from the entry which has been quoted in a preceding page, thatThe Winter's Tale"had been originally licensed by Sir George Buck;" and he concludes by remarking, that "though Sir George Buck obtained a reversionary grant of the office of Master of the Revels, in 1603, which title Camden has given him in the edition of his Britannia printed in 1607, it appears from various documents in the Pells-office, that he did not get complete possession of his place till August, 1610."[496:C]In fact, Edmond Tilney, the predecessor of Sir George Buck, died at the very commencement of October, 1610, and was buried at Leatherhead, in Surrey, on the sixth of the same month; and it is very likely that, during his illness, probablycommencing in August, Sir George, as his destined successor, might officiate for him.
We learn from Mr. Vertue's manuscripts, thatThe Winter's Talewas acted at court in 1613, a circumstance which, though it may lead us to infer that its popularity on the public stage had been considerable, by no means necessarily warrants the supposition which Mr. Malone is inclined to make, that it had passed through all its stages of composition, public performance, and court exhibition, during the same year.
Instead, therefore, of conjecturing with Mr. Malone that this play was written in 1594, or 1602, or 1604, or 1613, for such has been the vacillation of this gentleman in his chronology of the piece, or, with Mr. Chalmers, in 1601, we believe it to have beenwritten, for the reasons which we have already assigned, and which will receive additional corroboration from the arguments to be adduced under the next head, towards the close of 1610, and to have beenlicensedandperformedduring the succeeding year.[497:A]
"The observation by Dr. Warburton," remarks Mr. Douce, "thatThe Winter's Tale, with all its absurdities, is very entertaining, though stated by Dr. Johnson to be just, must be allowed at the same time to be extremely frigid." Certainly had Warburton said this, or nothing but this, he had merited the epithet; but Mr. Douce has been misled by Dr. Johnson, for most assuredly Warburton has not said this, but, on the contrary, has spoken of the play not only with taste and feeling, but in a tone of enthusiasm. "This play,throughout," says he, "is writtenin the very spirit of its author. And in telling this homely and simple, though agreeable country-tale,
"Our sweetest Shakspeare, fancy's child,Warbles his native wood-notes wild."
"Our sweetest Shakspeare, fancy's child,Warbles his native wood-notes wild."
"Our sweetest Shakspeare, fancy's child,
Warbles his native wood-notes wild."
"This was necessary to observe in mere justice to the play: asthe meanness of the fable, and the extravagant conduct of it, had misled some of great name into a wrong judgment of its merit; which,as far as it regards sentiment and character, is scarce inferior to any in the whole collection."[498:A]This, indeed, is all that Warburton has said on the general character ofThe Winter's Tale, but it is high praise, and coincides in almost every respect with what Mr. Douce has himself very justly declared on the same subject, when, in the passage immediately following that which we have already quoted from his Illustrations, he adds,—"In point of fine writing it may be ranked among Shakspeare's best efforts. The absurdities pointed at by Warburton, together with the whimsical anachronisms of Whitson pastorals, Christian burial, an emperor of Russia, and an Italian painter of the fifteenth century, are no real drawbacks on the superlative merits of this charming drama. The character of Perdita will remain for ages unrivalled; for where shall such language be found as she is made to utter?"[498:B]
As Shakspeare was indebted for the story ofThe Winter's Taleto theDorastus and Fawniaof Robert Greene, which was published in 1588, so it is probable that he was under a similar obligation for its name to "A booke entitledA Wynter Nyght's Pastime," which was entered at Stationers' Hall on May the 22d, 1594. It is, also, not unlikely that the adoption of the title might influence the nature of the composition; for, as Schlegel has remarked, "The Winter's Taleis as appropriately named asThe Midsummer-Night's Dream. It is one of those tales which are peculiarly calculated to beguile the dreary leisure of a long winter evening, which are even attractive and intelligible to childhood, and which, animated by fervent truth in the delineation of character and passion, invested with the decoration of a poetry lowering itself, as it were, to the simplicity of the subject, transport even manhood back to the golden age of imagination."[498:C]
Such indeed is the character of the latter and more interesting part of this drama, which, separated by a chasm of sixteen years from the business of the three preceding acts, may be said, in some measure, to constitute a distinct play. The fourth act, especially, is a pastoral of the most fascinating description, in which Perdita, pure as
——————————— "the fann'd snowThat's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er,"[499:A]
——————————— "the fann'd snowThat's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er,"[499:A]
——————————— "the fann'd snow
That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er,"[499:A]
ignorant of her splendid origin, yet, under the appearance of a shepherd's daughter, acting with such an intuitive nobleness of mind, that—
——————— "nothing she does, or seems,But smacks of something greater than herself,"[499:B]
——————— "nothing she does, or seems,But smacks of something greater than herself,"[499:B]
——————— "nothing she does, or seems,
But smacks of something greater than herself,"[499:B]
exhibits a portrait fresh from nature's loveliest pencil, where simplicity, artless affection, and the most generous resignation are sweetly blended with a fortitude at once spirited and tender. Thus, when Polixenes, discovering himself at the sheep-shearing, interdicts the contract between Perdita and his son, and threatens the former with a cruel death, if she persist in encouraging the attachment, the reply which she gives is a most beautiful developement of the qualities of mind and heart which we have just enumerated:—
"Per.Even here undone?I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,The selfsame sun, that shines upon his court,Hides not his visage from our cottage, butLooks on alike.—Will't please you, sir, be gone? (to Florizel.I told you, what would come of this: 'Beseech you,Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,—Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further,But milk my ewes, and weep."[500:A]
"Per.Even here undone?I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,The selfsame sun, that shines upon his court,Hides not his visage from our cottage, butLooks on alike.—Will't please you, sir, be gone? (to Florizel.I told you, what would come of this: 'Beseech you,Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,—Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further,But milk my ewes, and weep."[500:A]
"Per.Even here undone?
I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,
I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,
The selfsame sun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike.—Will't please you, sir, be gone? (to Florizel.
I told you, what would come of this: 'Beseech you,
Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,—
Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further,
But milk my ewes, and weep."[500:A]
The comic characters of this play, which are nearly confined to the last two acts, form a striking contrast and relief to the native delicacy and elegance of manners which distinguish every sentiment and action of the modest and unaffected Perdita; her reputed father and brother and the witty rogue Autolycus being drawn with those strong but natural strokes of broad humour which Shakspeare delighted to display in his characterisation of the lower orders of society. That "snapper up of unconsidered trifles," his frolic pedlar, is one of the most entertaining specimens of wicked ingenuity that want and opportunity ever generated.
33.The Tempest: 1611. The dates assigned by the two chronologers, for the composition of this drama, seem to be inferred from premises highly inconclusive and improbable. Mr. Malone conceives it to have been written in 1612, because its title appears to him to have been derived from the circumstance of a dreadful tempest occurring in the October, November, and December of the year 1612; and Mr. Chalmers has exchanged this epoch for 1613, because there happened "a great tempest of thunder and lightning, on Christmas day, 1612."[500:B]"This intimation," he subjoins, "necessarily carries the writing ofThe Tempestinto the subsequent year, since there is little probability, that our poet would write this enchanting drama, in the midst of the tempest, which overthrew so many mansions, and wrecked so many ships."[500:C]
It is very extraordinary that, when all the circumstances which could lead to the suggestion of the title ofThe Tempest, are to be found in books, to which, from his allusions, we know our author must have had recourse, and in events which took place, during the two years immediately preceding the period that we have fixed upon, and at the very spot referred to in the play, these critics should have imagined that a series of stormy weather occurring at home, or a single storm on Christmas day, could have operated with the poet in his choice of a name.
It is scarcely possible to avoid smiling at the objection which Mr. Chalmers so seriously brings forward against the conjecture of his predecessor, founded on the improbability of the poet's writing hisTempestin the midst of a tempest; a mode of refutation which could only have been adopted one would think under the supposition, that Shakspeare, during these three stormy months, had wanted the protection of a roof. The inference, however, which he draws from his own storm, on Christmas day, namely, thatThe Tempestmust necessarily have been written in 1613, is still less tenable than the position of Mr. Malone; for we are told, on the authority of Mr. Vertue's Manuscripts, "that the Tempest was acted by John Heminge and the rest of the King's company, before Prince Charles, the Lady Elizabeth, and the Prince Palatine elector, inthe beginningof the year 1613."[501:A]Now we learn from Wilson the historian, that the Prince Palatine was married to the Lady Elizabethin February, 1613, her brother Prince Charles leading her to church; and on this occasion, no doubt, it was, thatThe Tempest, having been received the preceding season with great favour and popularity, was re-performed; for Wilson tells us, that in consequence of these nuptials, "thefeastings,maskings, and otherRoyall formalities, were as troublesome ('tis presum'd) to theLovers, as the relation ofthem here may be to the reader;" and he adds, in the next page, that they were "tired withfeastingandjollity."[502:A]
But how can this relation be reconciled with the chronology of Mr. Chalmers? for, ifThe Tempest, as he supposes, was written in 1613, it must have been commenced and finished in the course of one month! a rapidity of composition which, considering the unrivalled excellence of this drama, is scarcely within the bounds of probability. Beside, wereThe Tempestthe production of January, 1613, it must have been written on the spur of the occasion, and for the nuptials in question; and is it to be supposed that no reference to such an event would be found throughout a play composed expressly to adorn, if not to compliment, the ceremony?
If we can, therefore, ascertain, that all the circumstances necessary for the suggestion, not only of the title ofThe Tempest, but of a considerable part of its fable, may have occurred to Shakspeare's mind anterior to the close of 1611, and would particularly press upon it, during the two years preceding this date, it may, without vanity, be expected, that the epoch which we have chosen, will be preferred to those which we have just had reason to pronounce either trivial or improbable.
So far back as to 1577, have Mr. Steevens and Dr. Farmer referred for some particulars to which Shakspeare was indebted for his conception of the "foul witch Sycorax," and her god Setebos[502:B]; but thecircumstances which led to the name of the play, to the storm with which it opens, and to some of the wondrous incidents on the enchanted island, commence with the publication of Raleigh's "Discoverie of the Large, Rich, and Beautiful Empire of Guiana," a book that was printed at London in 1596, and in which this great man, after mentioning the Channel of Bahama, adds,—"The rest of the Indies for calms, and diseases, are very troublesome; and theBermudas, a hellish sea, forthunder,lightning, andstorms."[503:A]
From this publication, therefore, our author acquired his first intimation of the "still vexed Bermoothes," which was repeated by the appearance of Hackluyt's Voyages, in 1600, in which, as Dr. Farmer observes, "he might have seen a description of Bermuda, by Henry May, who wasshipwreckedthere in 1593."[503:B]But the event which immediately gave rise to the composition ofThe Tempest, was theVoyage of Sir George Sommers, who wasshipwreckedon Bermudas in 1609, and whose adventures were given to the public by Silvester Jourdan, one of his crew, with the following title:—A Discovery of the Bermudas, otherwise called theIsle of Divels: By Sir Thomas Gates, Sir Geo. Sommers, and Captayne Newport, and divers others. In this publication, Jourdan informs us, that "the Islands of the Bermudas, as every man knoweth, that hath heard, or read of them, were never inhabited by any Christian, or heathen, people, but ever esteemed, and reputed, a mostprodigious, andinchanted,place, affording nothing butgusts,stormesandfoul weather; which made every navigator and mariner to avoid them, as Scylla and Charybdis, or as they would shun the Devil himselfe."
Now these particulars in Jourdan's book, taken in conjunction with preceding intimations, appear to us to have been fully adequate to the purpose of suggesting to the creative mind of Shakspeare,without any reference to succeeding pamphlets on the subject, or to storms at home, the name, the opening incidents, and the magical portion of his drama; for, when Mr. Chalmers refers us toA Plaine Description of the Bermudas now called Sommer islands, it should be recollected, that, even on his own chronology, this work, which was printed in 1613, must, unless it had appeared on the first days of the new year, have come too late to have furnished the poet with any additional information.[504:A]
ThatThe Tempesthad been produced anterior to the stormy autumn of 1612 seems to have been the opinion of Mr. Douce; for, alluding to the use which the commentators have made of the mere date of Sommers's voyage, he adds,—"but the important particulars of hisshipwreck, from which it is exceedingly probable that the outline of a considerable part of this play was borrowed, has been unaccountably overlooked;" and then, after quoting the title, and noticing some of the particulars of Jourdan's book, and introducing a passage from Stowe's Annals descriptive of Sommers's shipwreck on the "dreadful coast of the Bermodes, which island were of all nations said and supposed to beeinchanted and inhabited with witches and devills," he proceeds thus:—"Now if some of these circumstances in the shipwreck of Sir George Sommers be considered, it may possibly turn out thattheyare 'the particular and recent event which determined Shakspeare to call his playThe Tempest,' instead of 'the great tempest of 1612,' which has already been supposed to have suggested its name,and which might have happened after its composition."[504:B]
From these circumstances, and this chain of reasoning, we are induced to conclude, thatThe Tempestwaswritten towards the closeof 1611, and that it was brought on the stage early in the succeeding year.
The Tempestis, next toMacbeth, the noblest product of our author's genius. Never were the wild and the wonderful, the pathetic and the sublime, more artfully and gracefully combined with the sportive sallies of a playful imagination, than in this enchantingly attractive drama. Nor is it less remarkable, that all these excellencies of the highest order are connected with a plot which, in its mechanism, and in the preservation of the unities, is perfectly classical and correct.
Theaction, which turns upon the restoration of Prospero to his former dignities, involving in its successful issue, the union of Ferdinand and Miranda, the temporary punishment of the guilty, and the reconciliation of all parties, is simple, integral, and complete. Theplaceis confined to a small island, and, for the most part, to the cave of Prospero, or its immediate vicinity, and the poet has taken care to inform us twice in the last act, that thetimeoccupied in the representation, has not exceeded three hours.[505:A]
Yet within this short space are brought together, and without any violation of dramatic probability or consistency, the most extraordinary incidents and the most singular assemblage of characters, that fancy, in her wildest mood, has ever generated. A magician possessed of the most awful and stupendous powers; a spirit of the air beautiful and benign; a goblin hideous and malignant, a compound of the savage, the demon, and the brute; and a young and lovely female who has never seen a human being, save her father, are theinhabitants of an island, no otherwise frequented than by the fantastic creations of Prospero's necromantic art.
A solemn and mysterious grandeur envelopes the character of Prospero, from his first entrance to his final exit, the vulgar magic of the day being in him blended with such a portion of moral dignity and philosophic wisdom, as to receive thence an elevation, and an impression of sublimity, of which it could not previously have been thought susceptible.
The exquisite simplicity, ingenuous affection, and unsuspicious confidence of Miranda, united as they are with the utmost sweetness and tenderness of disposition, render the scenes which pass between her and Ferdinand beyond measure delightful and refreshing; they are, indeed, as far as relates to her share of the dialogue, perfectly paradisaical. Nor is the conception of this singularly situated character less striking, than the consistency with which, to the very last, it is supported, throughout all its parts.
On the wildly-graceful picture of Ariel, that "delicate spirit," whose occupation it was,
——— —— —— "To tread the oozeOf the salt deep;To run upon the sharp wind of the north:To do business in the veins o' the earth,When it is bak'd with frost;—— to dive into the fire; to rideOn the curl'd clouds;———————— to fetch dewFrom the still vex'd Bermoothes;"
——— —— —— "To tread the oozeOf the salt deep;To run upon the sharp wind of the north:To do business in the veins o' the earth,When it is bak'd with frost;—— to dive into the fire; to rideOn the curl'd clouds;———————— to fetch dewFrom the still vex'd Bermoothes;"
——— —— —— "To tread the ooze
Of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north:
To do business in the veins o' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost;
—— to dive into the fire; to ride
On the curl'd clouds;
———————— to fetch dew
From the still vex'd Bermoothes;"
what language can express an adequate encomium! All his thoughts and actions, his pastimes and employments, are such as could only belong to a being of a higher sphere, of a more sublimated and ætherial existence than the race of man. Even the very words which he chants, seem to refer to "no mortal business," and to form "no sound that the earth owes."
Of a nature directly opposed to this elegant and sylph-like essence, is the hag-born monster Caliban, one of the most astonishingproductions of a mind exhaustless in the creation of all that is novel, original, and great. Generated by a devil and a witch, deformed, prodigious, and obscene, and breathing nothing but malice, sensuality, and revenge, this fearful compound is yet, from the poetical vigour of his language and ideas, highly interesting to the imagination. Imagery, derived from whatever is darkly horrible and mysteriously repulsive, clothe the expression of his passions or the denunciation of his curses; whilst, even in his moments of hilarity, the barbarous, the grotesque, and the romantic, alternately, or conjointly, sustain, with admirable harmony, the keeping of his character.
That the system ofMagicorEnchantment, which has given so much attraction to this play, was at the period of its production an article in the popular creed of general estimation, and, even among the learned, received with but little hesitation, may be clearly ascertained from the writers of Shakspeare's times. Thus,Howard, Earl of Northampton, in his "Defensative against the poyson of supposed Prophecies," 1583;Scot, in his "Discoverie of Witchcraft" and "Discours of Divels and Spirits," 1584;James, in his "Demonologie," 1603;Mason, in his "Anatomie of Sorceerie," 1612; and finally,Burton, in his "Anatomie of Melancholy," 1617, all bear witness, in such a manner to the fact, as proves, that, of the existence ofThe Art of Sorcery, however unlawful it might be deemed by many, few presumed to doubt. The very title of Howard's book informs us, that "invocations of damned spirits" and "judicials of astrology" were "causes of great disorder in the commonwealth;" and in the work, speaking of the same arts, he adds,—"We need not rifle in the monuments of former times, so long as the present age wherein we live may furnish us with store of most strange examples." Scot declares, in his "Epistle to the Reader," that "conjurors and enchanters make us fooles still, to the shame of us all;" and in the 42d chapter of his 15th book, he has inserted a copy of a letter written to him by a professor of the necromantic art, who had been condemned to die for his supposed diabolical practices, but who, through his own repentance, and the mediation of LordLeicester with the Queen, had been reprieved. An extract or two from this curious epistle, will place in a striking light the great prevalence of the credulity on which we are commenting. "Maister R. Scot, according to your request, I have drawne out certaine abuses worth the noting, touching the worke you have in hand; things which I my selfe have seene within these xxvi yeares, among those which were counted famous and skilfull in those sciences. And bicause the whole discourse cannot be set downe, without nominating certaine persons,of whom some are dead, and some living, whose freends remaine yet of great credit: in respect thereof, I knowing that mine enimies doo alreadie in number exceed my freends; I have considered with my selfe, that it is better for me to staie my hand, than to commit that to the world, which may increase my miserie more than releeve the same. Notwithstanding, bicause I am noted above agreat many othersto have had some dealings in those vaine arts and wicked practises; I am therefore to signifie unto you, and I speake it in the presence of God, thatamong all those famous and noted practisers, that I have been conversant with all thesexxviyears, I could never see anie matter of truth, &c." He then, after exposing the futility of these studies, and lamenting his addiction to them, adds,—"For mine owne part, I have repented me five yeares past: at which time I sawe a booke, written in the old Saxon toong, by one Sir John Malborne, a divine of Oxenford, three hundred yeares past; wherein he openeth all the illusions and inventions of those arts and sciences: a thing most worthie the noting. I left the booke with the parson of Slangham, in Sussex, where if you send for it in my name, you may have it."
At the conclusion of this letter, which is dated the 8th of March, 1582, Scot says, as a further proof of the folly of the times,—"I sent for this booke of purpose, to the parson of Slangham, and procured his best friends, men of great worship and credit, to deale with him, that I might borrowe it for a time. But such is his follie and superstition, that although he confessed he had it; yet he would not lend it; albeit a friend of mine, being knight of the shire,would have given his word for the restitution of the same safe and sound."[509:A]
The reception of James's work on Demonology, which is as copious on the arts of enchantment as on those of witchcraft, is itself a most striking instance of the gross credulity of his subjects; for, while the learned, the sensible, and humane treatise of Scot, was either reprobated or neglected, the labours of this monarch in behalf of superstition, were received with applause, and referred to with a deference which admitted not of question.
Mason followed the footsteps of Scot, though not with equal ability, when in 1612 he endeavoured to throw ridicule upon "Inchanters and Charmers—they, which by using of certaine conceited words, characters, circles, amulets, and such like vaine and wicked trumpery (by God's permission) doe work great marvailes: as namely in causing of sicknesse, as also in curing diseases in men's bodies. And likewise binding some, that they cannot use their naturall powers and faculties; as we see in Night-spells. Insomuch as some of them doe take in hand to bind the Divell himselfe by their inchantments."
Five years afterwards, Burton, who seems to have been a believer on the influence which the Devil was supposed to exert in cherishing the growth of Sorcery, records that Magic is "practised by some still, maintained and excused;" and he adds, that "NeroandHeliogabalus,Maxentius, andJulianus Apostata, were never so much addicted to Magick of old, as some of our modern Princes and Popes themselves arenow adayes."[509:B]
The Art of Magic had, during the reign of Elizabeth, assumed a more scientific appearance, from its union with the mystic reveries of theCabalistsandRosicrusians, and, under this modification, has it been adopted by Shakspeare for the purposes of dramatic impression.Astrology,Alchemistry, and what was termedTheurgy, or an intercoursewith Divine Spirits, were combined with the more peculiar doctrines ofNecromancyor theBlack Art, and, under this form, was a system of mere delusions frequently mistaken for a branch of Natural Philosophy. Thus Fuller, speaking ofDr. John Dee, the Prince of Magicians in Shakspeare's days, says,—"He was a most excellentMathematicianandAstrologer, well skilled inMagick, as theAntientsdid, the LordBacondoth, and all may accept the sence thereof, viz., in the lawfull knowledg of Naturall Philosophie.
"This exposed him, anno 1583, amongst his Ignorant Neighbours, where he then liv'd, atMortclackinSurrey, to the suspicion of aConjurer: the cause I conceive, that his Library was then seized on, wherein werefour thousand Books, andseven hundredof themManuscripts."[510:A]
This singular character, who was born in 1527, and did not die until after the accession of James, was certainly possessed of much mathematical knowledge, having delivered lectures at Paris on the Elements of Euclid, with unprecedented applause; but he was at the same time grossly superstitious and enthusiastic, not only dealing in nativities, talismans, and charms, but pretending to a familiar intercourse with the world of spirits, of which Dr. Meric Casaubon has published a most extraordinary account, in a large folio volume, entitled, "A true and faithful relation of what passed for many years between Dr. John Dee and some spirits," 1659: and what is still more extraordinary, this learned editor tells us in his preface, that he "never gave more credit to any humane history of former times."
Dee, who had been educated at Cambridge, and was an excellent classical scholar, had, as might be supposed, in an age of almost boundless credulity, many patrons, and among these were the Lords Pembroke and Leicester, and even the Queen herself; but, notwithstanding this splendid encouragement, and much private munificence, particularly from the female world, our astrologer, like most of his tribe, diedmiserably poor. His love of books has given him a niche in Mr. Dibdin's Bibliographical Romance, where, under the title of therenownedDr. John Dee, he is introduced in the following animated manner:—"Let us fancy we see him in his conjuring cap and robes—surrounded with astrological, mathematical, and geographical instruments—with a profusion of Chaldee characters inscribed upon vellum rolls—and with his celebratedGlasssuspended by magical wires.—Let us then follow him into his study at midnight, and view him rummaging his books; contemplating the heavens; making calculations; holding converse with invisible spirits; writing down their responses: anon, looking into his correspondence withCount a Lasco, and the emperors Adolphus and Maximilian; and pronouncing himself, with the most heart-felt complacency, the greatest genius of his age! In the midst of these self-complacent reveries, let us imagine we see his wife and little ones intruding: beseeching him to burn his books and instruments; and reminding him that there was neither a silver spoon, nor a loaf of bread in the cupboard. Alas, poor Dee!"[511:A]
We have some reason to conclude, from the history of his life, of which Hearne has given us a very copious account[512:A], that Dee was more of an enthusiast than a knave; but this cannot be predicated of his associateKelly, who was assuredly a most impudent impostor. "He was born," says Fuller, whose account of him is singularly curious, "atWorcester, (as I have it from theScheameof his Nativity, graved from the original calculation of Doctor Dee),Anno Domini1555, August the first, at four o clock in the afternoon, the Pole being there elevated, qr. 52 10—He was well studied in the mysteries of nature, being intimate with DoctorDee, who was beneath him in Chemistry, but above him in Mathematicks. These two are said to have found a very large quantity ofElixerin the ruins ofGlassenbury Abby.
"Afterwards (being here in some trouble) he (Kelly) went over beyond the seas, withAlbertus Alasco, a Polonian Baron, who——it seems, sought to repair his fortunes by associating himself with thesetwoArch-chemists ofEngland.
"How long they continued together, is to me unknown.Sir Edward(though I know not how he came by his knight-hood) with the Doctor, fixed atTrebonainBohemia, where he is said to have transmuted a brass[513:A]warming-pan, (without touching or melting, onely warming it by the fire, and putting theElixirthereon) into pure silver, a piece whereof was sent to Queen Elizabeth.—
"They kept constant intelligence with a Messenger or Spirit, giving them advice how to proceed in their mysticall discoveries, and injoining them, that, by way of preparatory qualification for the same, they should enjoy their wives in common.—
"This probably might be the cause, why DoctorDeeleftKelley, and return'd intoEngland.Kelleycontinuing still inGermany, ranted it in his expences (say the Brethren of his own art) above the sobriety befitting so mysterious a Philosopher. He gave away in gold-wyer rings, at the marriage of one of his Maid-servants, to the value offour thousandpounds.—
"Come we now to his sad catastrophe. Indeed, the curious had observed, that in the Scheme of his Nativity, not onely theDragons-tailwas ready to promote abusive aspersions against him (to which living and dead he hath been subject) but also something malignant appears posited inAquarius, which hath influence on the leggs, which accordingly came to pass. For beingtwiceimprisoned (for what misdemeanor I know not) byRadulphusthe Emperor, he endeavoured to escape out of an high window, and tying his sheets together to let him down fell (being a weighty man) and brake his legg, whereof he died, 1595."[513:B]
It appears, however, from other sources, that the trouble to which Kelly was put, consisted in losing his ears on the pillory in Lancashire; that the credulity of the age had allotted him the post of descryer, or seer of visions to Dee, whom he accompanied to Germany, and that one of his offices, under this appointment, was to watch and report the gesticulations of the spirits whom his superior had fixed and compelled to appear in a talisman or stone, which very stone, we are informed, is now in the Strawberry-hill collection, and is nothing more than a finely polished mass of canal coal! His knighthood was the reward of a promise to assist the Emperor Rodolphus the Second, in his search after the philosopher's stone; and the discovery of his deceptive practices led him to a prison, from which it is said Elizabeth, to whom a piece of the transmuted warming-pan had been sent, had tempted him to make that escape which terminated in his death.[514:A]
Such were the leaders of the cabalistic and alchemical Magi in the days of our Virgin Queen; men, in the estimation of the great bulk of the people, possessed of super-human power, and who, notwithstanding their ignorance and presumption, and the exposure of their art by some choice spirits of their own, and the immediately subsequent period, among whomBen Jonson, as the author of theAlchemist, stands pre-eminent, continued for near a century to excite the curiosity, and delude the expectations of the public.[514:B]
The delineation ofProspero, the noblest conception of theMagiccharacter which ever entered the mind of a poet, is founded upon a distinction which was supposed to exist between the several professors of this mysterious science. They were separated, in fact, into two great orders; into those whocommandedthe service of superior intelligences, and into those who, by voluntary compact, entered into aleague with, or submitted to be theinstrumentsof these powers. Under the first were rankedMagicians, who were again classed into higher or inferior, according to the extent of the control which they exerted over the invisible world; the former possessing an authority overcelestial, as well asinfernalspirits. Under the second were includedNecromancersandWizards, who, for the enjoyment of temporary power, subjected themselves, like the Witch, to final perdition.
Of the highest class of the first order wasProspero, one of those Magicians or Conjurors who, as Reginald Scot observes, "professed an art which some fond divines affirme to be more honest and lawfull thannecromancie, which is calledTheurgie; wherein they worke by good angels."[515:A]Accordingly, we find Prospero operating upon inferior agents, upon elves, demons, and goblins, through the medium of Ariel, a spirit too delicate and good to "act abhorr'd commands," but who "answered his best pleasure," and was subservient to his "strong bidding."
Shakspeare has very properly given to the exterior of Prospero, several of the adjuncts and costume of the popular magician. Much virtue was inherent in his very garments; and Scot has, in many instances, particularised their fashion. A pyramidal cap, a robe furred with fox-skins, a girdle three inches in breadth, and inscribed with cabalistic characters, shoes of russet leather, and unscabbardedswords, formed the usual dress; but, on peculiar occasions, certain deviations were necessary; thus, in one instance, we are told the Magician must be habited in "clean white cloathes;" that his girdle must be made of "a drie thong of a lion's or of a hart's skin;" that he must have a "brest-plate of virgine parchment, sowed upon a piece of new linnen," and inscribed with certain figures; and likewise, "a bright knife that was never occupied," covered with characters on both sides, and with which he is to "make the circle, called Salomon's circle."[516:A]
Our poet has, therefore, laid much stress on these seeming minutiæ, and we find him, in the second scene ofThe Tempest, absolutely asserting, that the essence of the art existed in therobeof Prospero, who, addressing his daughter, says,—