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diff --git a/26152.txt b/26152.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1cbd60 --- /dev/null +++ b/26152.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14125 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Characteristics of Women, by Anna Jameson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Characteristics of Women + Moral, Poetical, and Historical + +Author: Anna Jameson + +Release Date: July 31, 2008 [EBook #26152] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + + +CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN + +MORAL, POETICAL, AND HISTORICAL + +BY + +MRS. JAMESON + +_From the last London Edition_ + +[Illustration] + +BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY The Riverside Press, +Cambridge 1889 + + + + +PREFACE + +TO THE NEW EDITION. + + +In preparing for the press a new edition of this little work, the author +has endeavored to render it more worthy of the approbation and kindly +feeling with which it has been received; she cannot better express her +sense of both than by justifying, as far as it is in her power, the +cordial and flattering tone of all the public criticisms. It is to the +great name of SHAKSPEARE, that bond of sympathy among all who speak his +language, and to the subject of the work, not to its own merits, that +she attributes the success it has met with,--success the more +delightful, because, in truth, it was from the very first, so entirely +unlooked for, as to be a matter of surprise as well as of pleasure and +gratitude. + +In this edition there are many corrections, and some additions which the +author hopes may be deemed improvements. She has been induced to insert +several quotations at length, which were formerly only referred to, from +observing that however familiar they may be to the mind of the reader, +they are always recognized with pleasure--like dear domestic faces; and +if the memory fail at the moment to recall the lines or the sentiment to +which the attention is directly required, few like to interrupt the +course of thought, or undertake a journey from the sofa or garden-seat +to the library, to hunt out the volume, the play, the passage, for +themselves. + +When the first edition was sent to press, the author contemplated +writing the life of Mrs. Siddons, with a reference to her art; and +deferred the complete development of the character of Lady Macbeth, till +she should be able to illustrate it by the impersonation and commentary +of that grand and gifted actress; but the task having fallen into other +hands, the analysis of the character has been almost entirely rewritten, +as at first conceived, or rather restored to its original form. + +This little work, as it now stands, forms only part of a plan which the +author hopes, if life be granted her, to accomplish;--at all events, +life, while it is spared, shall be devoted to its fulfilment. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + Page +INTRODUCTION 8 + +CHARACTERS OF INTELLECT. +Portia 53 +Isabella 83 +Beatrice 99 +Rosalind 110 + +CHARACTERS OF PASSION AND IMAGINATION. +Juliet 119 +Helena 153 +Perdita 172 +Viola 181 +Ophelia 187 +Miranda 207 + +CHARACTERS OF THE AFFECTIONS. +Hermione 219 +Desdemona 240 +Imogen 259 +Cordelia 280 + +HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. +Cleopatra 302 +Octavia 341 +Volumnia 345 +Constance of Bretagne 357 +Elinor of Guienne 387 +Blanche of Castile 389 +Margaret of Anjou 396 +Katharine of Arragon 407 +Lady Macbeth 437 + + + + +CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN. + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +_Scene--A Library._ + + ALDA. + +You will not listen to me? + + MEDON. + +I do, with all the deference which befits a gentleman when a lady holds +forth on the virtues of her own sex. + + He is a parricide of his mother's name, + And with an impious hand murders her fame, + That wrongs the praise of women; that dares write + Libels on saints, or with foul ink requite + The milk they lent us. + Yours was the nobler birth, + For you from man were made--man but of earth-- + The son of dust! + + ALDA. + +What's this? + + MEDON. + +"Only a rhyme I learned from one I talked withal;" 'tis a quotation from +some old poet that has fixed itself in my memory--from Randolph, I +think. + + ALDA. + +'Tis very justly thought, and very politely quoted, and my best courtesy +is due to him and to you:--but now will you listen to me? + + MEDON. + +With most profound humility. + + ALDA. + +Nay, then! I have done, unless you will lay aside these mock airs of +gallantry, and listen to me for a moment! Is it fair to bring a +second-hand accusation against me, and not attend to my defence? + + MEDON. + +Well, I will be serious. + + ALDA. + +Do so, and let us talk like reasonable beings. + + MEDON. + +Then tell me, (as a reasonable woman you will not be affronted with the +question,) do you really expect that any one will read this little book +of yours? + + ALDA. + +I might answer, that it has been a great source of amusement and +interest to me for several months, and that so far I am content: but no +one writes a book without a hope of finding readers, and I shall find a +few. Accident first made me an authoress; and not now, nor ever, have I +written to flatter any prevailing fashion of the day for the sake of +profit, though this is done, I know, by many who have less excuse for +thus coining their brains. This little book was undertaken without a +thought of fame or money: out of the fulness of my own heart and soul +have I written it. In the pleasure it has given me, in the new and +various views of human nature it has opened to me, in the beautiful and +soothing images it has placed before me, in the exercise and improvement +of my own faculties, I have already been repaid: if praise or profit +come beside, they come as a surplus. I should be gratified and grateful, +but I have not sought for them, nor worked for them. Do you believe +this? + + MEDON. + +I do: in this I cannot suspect you of affectation, for the profession of +disinterestedness is uncalled for, and the contrary would be too far +countenanced by the custom of the day to be matter of reserve or +reproach. But how could you (saving the reverence due to a +lady-authoress, and speaking as one reasonable being to another) choose +such a threadbare subject? + + ALDA. + +What do you mean? + + MEDON. + +I presume you have written a book to maintain the superiority of your +sex over ours; for so I judge by the names at the heads of some of your +chapters; women fit indeed to inlay heaven with stars, but, pardon me, +very unlike those who at present walk upon this earth. + + ALDA. + +Very unlike the fine ladies of your acquaintance, I grant you; but as to +maintaining the superiority, or speculating on the rights of +women--nonsense! why should you suspect me of such folly?--it is quite +out of date. Why should there be competition or comparison? + + MEDON. + +Both are ill-judged and odious; but did you ever meet with a woman of +the world, who did not abuse most heartily the whole race of men? + + ALDA. + +Did you ever talk with a man of the world, who did not speak with levity +or contempt of the whole human race of women? + + MEDON. + +Perhaps I might answer like Voltaire--"Helas ils pourraient bien avoir +raison tous deux." But do you thence infer that both are good for +nothing? + + ALDA. + +Thence I infer that the men of the world and the women of the world are +neither of them--good for much. + + MEDON. + +And you have written a book to make them better? + + ALDA. + +Heaven forbid! else I were only fit for the next lunatic asylum. Vanity +run mad never conceived such an impossible idea. + + MEDON. + +Then, in a few words, what is the subject, and what the object, of your +book? + + ALDA. + +I have endeavoured to illustrate the various modifications of which the +female character is susceptible, with their causes and results. My life +has been spent in observing and thinking; I have had, as you well know, +more opportunities for the first, more leisure for the last, than have +fallen to the lot of most people. What I have seen, felt, thought, +suffered, has led me to form certain opinions. It appears to me that the +condition of women in society, as at present constituted, is false in +itself, and injurious to them,--that the education of women, as at +present conducted, is founded in mistaken principles, and tends to +increase fearfully the sum of misery and error in both sexes; but I do +not choose presumptuously to fling these opinions in the face of the +world, in the form of essays on morality, and treatises on education. I +have rather chosen to illustrate certain positions by examples, and +leave my readers to deduce the moral themselves, and draw their own +inferences. + + MEDON. + +And why have you not chosen your examples from real life? you might +easily have done so. You have not been a mere spectator, or a mere +actor, but a lounger behind the scenes of existence--have even assisted +in preparing the puppets for the stage: you might have given us an +epitome of your experience, instead of dreaming over Shakspeare. + + ALDA. + +I might so, if I had chosen to become a female satirist, which I will +never be. + + MEDON. + +You would, at least, stand a better chance of being read. + + ALDA. + +I am not sure of that. The vile taste for satire and personal gossip +will not be eradicated, I suppose, while the elements of curiosity and +malice remain in human nature; but as a fashion of literature, I think +it is passing away;--at all events it is not my _forte_. Long experience +of what is called "the world," of the folly, duplicity, shallowness, +selfishness, which meet us at every turn, too soon unsettles our +youthful creed. If it only led to the knowledge of good and evil, it +were well; if it only taught us to despise the illusions and retire from +the pleasures of the world, it would be better. But it destroys our +belief--it dims our perception of all abstract truth, virtue, and +happiness; it turns life into a jest, and a very dull one too. It makes +us indifferent to beauty, and incredulous of goodness; it teaches us to +consider _self_ as the centre on which all actions turn, and to which +all motives are to be referred. + + MEDON. + +But this being so, we must either revolve with these earthly natures, +and round the same centre, or seek a sphere for ourselves, and dwell +apart. + + ALDA. + +I trust it is not necessary to do either. While we are yet young, and +the passions, powers, and feelings, in their full activity, create to us +a world within, we cannot look fairly on the world without:--all things +then are good. When first we throw ourselves forth, and meet burs and +briars on every side, which stick in our very hearts;--and fair tempting +fruits which turn to bitter ashes in the taste, then we exclaim with +impatience, all things are evil. But at length comes the calm hour, +when they who look beyond the superficies of things begin to discern +their true bearings; when the perception of evil, or sorrow, or sin, +brings also the perception of some opposite good, which awakens our +indulgence, or the knowledge of the cause which excites our pity. Thus +it is with me. I can smile,--nay, I can laugh still, to see folly, +vanity, absurdity, meanness, exposed by scornful wit, and depicted by +others in fictions light and brilliant. But these very things, when I +encounter the reality, rather make me sad than merry, and take away all +the inclination, if I had the power, to hold them up to derision. + + MEDON. + +Unless, by doing so, you might correct them. + + ALDA. + +Correct them! Show me that one human being who has been made essentially +better by satire! O no, no! there is something in human nature which +hardens itself against the lash--something in satire which excites only +the lowest and worst of our propensities. That avowal in Pope-- + + I must be proud to see + Men not afraid of God, afraid of me! + +--has ever filled me with terror and pity-- + + MEDON. + +From its truth perhaps? + + ALDA. + +From its arrogance,--for the truth is, that a vice never corrected a +vice. Pope might be proud of the terror he inspired in those who feared +no God in whom vanity was stronger than conscience: but that terror made +no individual man better; and while he indulged his own besetting sin, +he administered to the malignity of others. Your professed satirists +always send me to think upon the opposite sentiment in Shakspeare, on +"the mischievous foul sin of chiding sin." I remember once hearing a +poem of Barry Cornwall's, (he read it to me,) about a strange winged +creature that, having the lineaments of a man, yet preyed on a man, and +afterwards coming to a stream to drink, and beholding his own face +therein, and that he had made his prey of a creature like himself, pined +away with repentance. So should those do, who having made themselves +mischievous mirth out of the sins and sorrows of others, remembering +their own humanity, and seeing within themselves the same lineaments--so +should _they_ grieve and pine away, self-punished. + + MEDON. + +'Tis an old allegory, and a sad one--and but too much to the purpose. + + ALDA. + +I abhor the spirit of ridicule--I dread it and I despise it. I abhor it +because it is in direct contradiction to the mild and serious spirit of +Christianity; I fear it, because we find that in every state of society +in which it has prevailed as a fashion, and has given the tone to the +manners and literature, it marked the moral degradation and approaching +destruction of that society; and I despise it, because it is the usual +resource of the shallow and the base mind, and, when wielded by the +strongest hand with the purest intentions, an inefficient means of good. +The spirit of satire reversing the spirit of mercy which is twice +blessed, seems to me twice accursed;--evil in those who indulge it--evil +to those who are the objects of it. + + MEDON. + +"Peut-etre fallait-il que la punition des imprudens et des faibles fut +confiee a la malignite, car la pure vertu n'eut jamais ete assez +cruelle." + + ALDA. + +That is a woman's sentiment. + + MEDON. + +True--it _was_; and I have pleasure in reminding you that a female +satirist by profession is yet an anomaly in the history of our +literature, as a female schismatic is yet unknown in the history of our +religion. But to what do you attribute the number of satirical women we +meet in society? + + ALDA. + +Not to our nature; but to a state of society in which the levelling +spirit of _persiflage_ has been long a fashion; to the perverse +education which fosters it; to affections disappointed or unemployed, +which embitter the temper; to faculties misdirected or wasted, which +oppress and irritate the mind; to an utter ignorance of ourselves, and +the common lot of humanity, combined with quick and refined perceptions +and much superficial cultivation; to frivolous habits, which make +serious thought a burden, and serious feeling a bane if suppressed, if +betrayed, a ridicule. Women, generally speaking, are by nature too much +subjected to suffering in many forms--have too much of fancy and +sensibility, and too much of that faculty which some philosophers call +_veneration_, to be naturally satirical. I have known but one woman +eminently gifted in mind and person, who is also distinguished for +powers of satire as bold as merciless; and she is such a compound of all +that nature can give of good, and all that society can teach of evil-- + + MEDON. + +That she reminds us of the dragon of old, which was generated between +the sunbeams from heaven and the slime of earth. + + ALDA. + +No such thing. Rather of the powerful and beautiful fairy Melusina, who +had every talent and every charm under heaven but once in so many hours +was fated to become a serpent. No, I return to my first position. It is +not by exposing folly and scorning fools, that we make other people +wiser, or ourselves happier. But to soften the heart by images and +examples of the kindly and generous affections--to show how the human +soul is disciplined and perfected by suffering--to prove how much of +possible good may exist in things evil and perverted--how much hope +there is for those who despair--how much comfort for those whom a +heartless world has taught to contemn both others and themselves, and so +put barriers to the hard, cold, selfish, mocking, and levelling spirit +of the day--O would I could do this! + + MEDON. + +On the same principle, I suppose, that they have changed the treatment +of lunatics; and whereas they used to condemn poor distempered wretches +to straw and darkness, stripes and a strait waistcoat, they now send +them to sunshine and green fields, to wander in gardens among birds and +flowers, and soothe them with soft music and kind flattering speech. + + ALDA. + +You laugh at me! perhaps I deserve it. + + MEDON. + +No, in truth; I am a little amused, but most honestly attentive: and +perhaps wish I could think more like you. But to proceed: I allow that +with this view of the case, you could not well have chosen your +illustrations from real life; but why not from history? + + ALDA. + +As far as history could guide me, I have taken her with me in one or two +recent publications, which all tend to the same object. Nor have I here +lost sight of her; but I have entered on a land where she alone is not +to be trusted, and may make a pleasant companion but a most fallacious +guide. To drop metaphor: history informs us that such things have been +done or have occurred; but when we come to inquire into motives and +characters, it is the most false and partial and unsatisfactory +authority we can refer to. Women are illustrious in history, not from +what they have been in themselves, but generally in proportion to the +mischief they have done or caused. Those characters best fitted to my +purpose are precisely those of which history never heard, or disdains to +speak; of those which have been handed down to us by many different +authorities under different aspects we cannot judge without prejudice; +in others there occur certain chasms which it is difficult to supply; +and hence inconsistencies we have no means of reconciling, though +doubtless they _might_ be reconciled if we knew the whole, instead of a +part. + + MEDON. + +But instance--instance! + + ALDA. + +Examples crowd upon me; but take the first that occurs. Do you remember +that Duchesse de Longueville, whose beautiful picture we were looking at +yesterday?--the heroine of the Fronde?--think of that woman--bold, +intriguing, profligate, vain, ambitious, factious!--who made men rebels +with a smile;--or if that were not enough, the lady was not scrupulous, +apparently without principle as without shame, nothing was _too_ much! +And then think of the same woman protecting the virtuous philosopher +Arnauld, when he was denounced and condemned; and from motives which her +worst enemies could not malign, secreting him in her house, unknown even +to her own servants--preparing his food herself, watching for his +safety, and at length saving him. Her tenderness, her patience, her +discretion, her disinterested benevolence, not only defied danger, (that +were little to a woman of her temper,) but endured a lengthened trial, +all the ennui caused by the necessity of keeping her house, continual +self-control, and the thousand small daily sacrifices which, to a vain, +dissipated, proud, impatient woman, must have been hard to bear. Now if +Shakspeare had drawn the character of the Duchesse de Longueville, he +would have shown us the same individual woman in both situations:--for +the same being, with the same faculties, and passions, and powers, it +surely was: whereas in history, we see in one case a fury of discord, a +woman without modesty or pity; and in the other an angel of +benevolence, and a worshipper of goodness; and nothing to connect the +two extremes in our fancy. + + MEDON. + +But these are contradictions which we meet on every page of history, +which make us giddy with doubt, or sick with belief, and are the proper +subjects of inquiry for the moralist and the philosopher. + + ALDA. + +I cannot say that professed moralists and philosophers did much to help +_me_ out of the dilemma; but the riddle which history presented I found +solved in the pages of Shakspeare. There the crooked appeared straight; +the inaccessible, easy; the incomprehensible, plain. All I sought, I +found there; his characters combine history and real life; they are +complete individuals, whose hearts and souls are laid open before us: +all may behold, and all judge for themselves. + + MEDON. + +But all will not judge alike. + + ALDA. + +No; and herein lies a part of their wonderful truth. We hear +Shakspeare's men and women discussed, praised and dispraised, liked, +disliked, as real human beings; and in forming our opinions of them, we +are influenced by our own characters, habits of thought, prejudices, +feelings, impulses, just as we are influenced with regard to our +acquaintances and associates. + + MEDON. + +But we are then as likely to misconceive and misjudge them. + + ALDA. + +Yes, if we had only the same imperfect means of studying them. But we +can do with them what we cannot do with real people: we can unfold the +whole character before us, stripped of all pretensions of self-love, all +disguises of manner. We can take leisure to examine, to analyze, to +correct our own impressions, to watch the rise and progress of various +passions--we can hate, love, approve, condemn, without offence to +others, without pain to ourselves. + + MEDON. + +In this respect they may be compared to those exquisite anatomical +preparations of wax, which those who could not without disgust and +horror dissect a real specimen, may study, and learn the mysteries of +our frame, and all the internal workings of the wondrous machine of +life. + + ALDA. + +And it is the safer and the better way--for us at least. But look--that +brilliant rain-drop trembling there in the sunshine suggests to me +another illustration. Passion, when we contemplate it through the +medium of imagination, is like a ray of light transmitted through a +prism; we can calmly, and with undazzled eye, study its complicate +nature, and analyze its variety of tints; but passion brought home to us +in its reality, through our own feelings and experience, is like the +same ray transmitted through a lens,--blinding, burning, consuming where +it falls. + + MEDON. + +Your illustration is the most poetical, I allow; but not the most just. +But tell me, is the ground you have taken sufficiently large?--is the +foundation you have chosen strong enough to bear the moral +superstructure you raise upon it? You know the prevalent idea is, that +Shakspeare's women are inferior to his men. This assertion is constantly +repeated, and has been but tamely refuted. + + ALDA. + +Professor Richardson?-- + + MEDON. + +He is as dry as a stick, and his refutation not successful even as a +piece of logic. Then it is not sufficient for critics to assert this +inferiority and want of variety: they first assume the fallacy, then +argue upon it. Cibber accounts for it from the circumstance that all the +female parts in Shakspeare's time were acted by boys--there were no +women on the stage; and Mackenzie, who ought to have known better, says +that he was not so happy in his delineations of love and tenderness, as +of the other passions; because, forsooth, the majesty of his genius +could not stoop to the refinements of delicacy;--preposterous! + + ALDA. + +Stay! before we waste epithets of indignation, let us consider. If these +people mean that Shakspeare's women are inferior in power to his men, I +grant it at once; for in Shakspeare the male and female characters bear +precisely the same relation to each other that they do in nature and in +society--they are not equal in prominence or in power--they are +subordinate throughout. Richardson remarks, that "if situation +influences the mind, and if uniformity of conduct be frequently +occasioned by uniformity of condition, there _must_ be a greater +diversity of male than of female characters,"--which is true; add to +this our limited sphere of action, consequently of experience,--the +habits of self-control rendering the outward distinctions of character +and passion less striking and less strong--all this we see in Shakspeare +as in nature: for instance, Juliet is the most impassioned of the female +characters, but what are _her_ passions compared to those which shake +the soul of Othello? + + "Even as the dew-drop on the myrtle-leaf + To the vex'd sea." + +Look at Constance, frantic for the loss of her son--then look at Lear, +maddened by the ingratitude of his daughters: why it is the west wind +bowing those aspen tops that wave before our window, compared to the +tropic hurricane, when forests crash and burn, and mountains tremble to +their bases! + + MEDON. + +True; and Lady Macbeth, with all her soaring ambition, her vigor of +intellect, her subtlety, her courage, and her cruelty--what is she, +compared to Richard III.? + + ALDA. + +I will tell you what she is--she is a woman. Place Lady Macbeth in +comparison with Richard III., and you see at once the essential +distinction between masculine and feminine ambition--though both in +extreme, and overleaping all restraints of conscience or mercy. Richard +says of himself, that he has "neither pity, love, nor fear:" Lady +Macbeth is susceptible of all three. You smile! but that remains to be +proved. The reason that Shakspeare's wicked women have such a singular +hold upon our fancy, is from the consistent preservation of the feminine +character, which renders them more terrible, because more credible and +intelligible--not like those monstrous caricatures we meet with in +history-- + + MEDON. + +In history?--this is new! + + ALDA. + +Yes! I repeat, in history, where certain isolated facts and actions are +recorded, without any relation to causes, or motives, or connecting +feelings and pictures exhibited, from which the considerate mind turns +in disgust, and the feeling heart has no relief but in positive, and I +may add, reasonable incredulity. I have lately seen one of Correggio's +finest pictures, in which the three Furies are represented, not as +ghastly deformed hags, with talons and torches, and snaky hair, but as +young women, with fine luxuriant forms and regular features, and a +single serpent wreathing the tresses like a bandeau--but _such_ +countenances!--such a hideous expression of malice, cunning, and +cruelty!--and the effect is beyond conception appalling. Leonardo da +Vinci worked upon the same grand principle of art in his Medusa-- + + Where it is less the horror than the grace + Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone-- + + * * * * + + 'Tis the melodious tints of beauty thrown + Athwart the hue of guilt and glare of pain, + That humanize and harmonize the strain. + +And Shakspeare, who understood all truth, worked out his conceptions on +the same principle, having said himself, that "proper deformity shows +not in the fiend so horrid as in women." Hence it is that whether he +portrayed the wickedness founded in perverted power, as in Lady Macbeth; +or the wickedness founded in weakness, as in Gertrude, Lady Anne, or +Cressida, he is the more fearfully impressive, because we cannot claim +for ourselves an exemption from the same nature, before which, in its +corrupted state, we tremble with horror or shrink with disgust. + + MEDON. + +Do you remember that some of the commentators of Shakspeare have thought +it incumbent on their gallantry to express their utter contempt for the +scene between Richard and Lady Anne, as a monstrous and incredible libel +on your sex? + + ALDA. + +They might have spared themselves the trouble. Lady Anne is just one of +those women whom we see walking in crowds through the drawing-rooms of +the world--the puppets of habit, the fools of fortune, without any +particular inclination for vice, or any steady principle of virtue; +whose actions are inspired by vanity, not affection, and regulated by +opinion, not by conscience: who are good while there is no temptation to +be otherwise, and ready victims of the first soliciting to evil. In the +case of Lady Anne, we are startled by the situation: not three months a +widow, and following to the sepulchre the remains of a husband and a +father, she is met and wooed and won by the very man who murdered them. +In such a case it required perhaps either Richard or the arch-fiend +himself to tempt her successfully; but in a less critical moment, a far +less subtle and audacious seducer would have sufficed. Cressida is +another modification of vanity, weakness, and falsehood, drawn in +stronger colors. The world contains many Lady Annes and Cressidas, +polished and refined externally, whom chance and vanity keep right, whom +chance and vanity lead wrong, just as it may happen. When we read in +history of the enormities of certain women, perfect scarecrows and +ogresses, we can safely, like the Pharisee in Scripture, hug ourselves +in our secure virtue, and thank God that we are not as others are--but +the wicked women in Shakspeare are portrayed with such perfect +consistency and truth, that they leave us no such resource--they +frighten us into reflection--they make us believe and tremble. On the +other hand, his amiable women are touched with such exquisite +simplicity--they have so little external pretensions--and are so unlike +the usual heroines of tragedy and romance, that they delight us more +"than all the nonsense of the beau-ideal!" We are flattered by the +perception of our own nature in the midst of so many charms and virtues: +not only are they what we could wish to be, or ought to be, but what we +persuade ourselves we might be, or would be, under a different and a +happier state of things, and, perhaps, some time or other _may_ be. They +are not stuck up, like the cardinal virtues, all in a row, for us to +admire and wonder at--they are not mere poetical abstractions--nor (as +they have been termed) mere abstractions of the affections,-- + + But common clay ta'en from the common earth. + Moulded by God, and tempered by the tears + Of angels, to the perfect form of--_woman_. + + MEDON. + +Beautiful lines!--Where are they? + + ALDA. + +I quote from memory, and I am afraid inaccurately, from a poem of Alfred +Tennyson's. + + MEDON. + +Well, between argument, and sentiment, and logic, and poetry, you are +making out a very plausible case. I think with you that, in the +instances you have mentioned, (as Lady Macbeth and Richard, Juliet, and +Othello, and others,) the want of comparative power is only an +additional excellence; but to go to an opposite extreme of delineation, +we must allow that there is not one of Shakspeare's women that, as a +dramatic character, can be compared to Falstaff. + + ALDA. + +No; because any thing like Falstaff in the form of woman--any such +compound of wit, sensuality, and selfishness, unchecked by the moral +sentiments and the affections, and touched with the same vigorous +painting, would be a gross and monstrous caricature. If it could exist +in nature, we might find it in Shakspeare; but a moment's reflection +shows us that it would be essentially an impossible combination of +faculties in a female. + + MEDON. + +It strikes me, however, that his humorous women are feebly drawn, in +comparison with some of the female wits of other writers. + + ALDA. + +Because his women of wit and humor are not introduced for the sole +purpose of saying brilliant things, and displaying the wit of the +author; they are, as I will show you, real, natural women, in whom _wit_ +is only a particular and occasional modification of intellect. They are +all, in the first place, affectionate, thinking beings, and moral +agents; and _then_ witty, as if by accident, or as the Duchesse de +Chaulnes said of herself, "par la grace de Dieu." As to humor, it is +carried as far as possible in Mrs. Quickly; in the termagant Catherine; +in Maria, in "Twelfth Night;" in Juliet's nurse; in Mrs. Ford and Mrs. +Page. What can exceed in humorous naivete, Mrs. Quickly's upbraiding +Falstaff, and her concluding appeal--"Didst thou not kiss me, and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings?" Is it not exquisite--irresistible? Mrs. +Ford and Mrs. Page are both "merry wives," but how perfectly +discriminated! Mrs. Ford has the most good nature--Mrs. Page is the +cleverer of the two, and has more sharpness in her tongue, more mischief +in her mirth. In all these instances I allow that the humor is more or +less vulgar; but a humorous woman, whether in high or low life has +always a tinge of vulgarity. + + MEDON. + +I should like to see that word _vulgar_ properly defined, and its +meaning limited--at present it is the most arbitrary word in the +language. + + ALDA. + +Yes, like the word romantic, it is a convenient "exploding word," and in +its general application signifies nothing more than "see how much finer +I am than other people!"[1] but in literature and character I shall +adhere to the definition of Madame de Stael, who uses the word _vulgar_ +as the reverse of _poetical_. Vulgarity (as I wish to apply the word) is +the _negative_ in all things. In literature, it is the total absence of +elevation and depth in the ideas, and of elegance and delicacy in the +expression of them. In character, it is the absence of truth, +sensibility, and reflection. The vulgar in manner, is the result of +vulgarity of character; it is grossness, hardness, or affectation.--If +you would see how Shakspeare has discriminated, not only different +degrees, but different kinds of plebeian vulgarity in women, you have +only to compare the nurse in Romeo and Juliet with Mrs. Quickly. On the +whole, if there are people who, taking the strong and essential +distinction of sex into consideration, still maintain that Shakspeare's +female characters are not, in truth, in variety, in power, equal to his +men, I think I shall prove the contrary. + + MEDON. + +I observe that you have divided your illustrations into classes; but +shades of character so melt into each other, and the various faculties +and powers are so blended and balanced, that all classification must be +arbitrary. I am at a loss to conceive where you have drawn the line; +here, at the head of your first chapter, I find "Characters of +Intellect"--do you call Portia intellectual, and Hermione and Constance +not so? + + ALDA. + +I know that Schlegel has said that it is impossible to arrange +Shakspeare's characters in classes: yet some classification was +necessary for my purpose. I have therefore divided them into characters +in which intellect and wit predominate; characters in which fancy and +passion predominate; and characters in which the moral sentiments and +affections predominate. The historical characters I have considered +apart, as requiring a different mode of illustration. Portia I regard as +a perfect model of an intellectual woman, in whom wit is tempered by +sensibility, and fancy regulated by strong reflection. It is objected to +her, to Beatrice, and others of Shakspeare's women, that the display of +intellect is tinged with a coarseness of manner belonging to the age in +which he wrote. To remark that the conversation and letters of +high-bred and virtuous women of that time were more bold and frank in +expression than any part of the dialogue appropriated to Beatrice and +Rosalind, may excuse it to our judgment, but does not reconcile it to +our taste. Much has been said, and more might be said on this +subject--but I would rather not discuss it. It is a mere difference of +manner which is to be regretted, but has nothing to do with the essence +of the character. + + MEDON. + +I think you have done well in avoiding the topic altogether; but between +ourselves, do you really think that the refinement of manner, the +censorious, hypocritical, verbal scrupulosity, which is carried so far +in this "picked age" of ours, is a true sign of superior refinement of +taste, and purity of morals? Is it not rather a whiting of the +sepulchre? I will not even allude to individual instances whom we both +know, but does it not remind you, on the whole, of the tone of French +manners previous to the revolution--that "decence," which Horace Walpole +so admired,[2] veiling the moral degradation, the inconceivable +profligacy of the higher classes?--Stay--I have not yet done--not to +you, but _for_ you, I will add thus much;--our modern idea of delicacy +apparently attaches more importance to words than to things--to manners +than to morals. You will hear people inveigh against the improprieties +of Shakspeare, with Don Juan, or one of those infernal French novels--I +beg your pardon--lying on their toilet table. Lady Florence is shocked +at the sallies of Beatrice, and Beatrice would certainly stand aghast to +see Lady Florence dressed for Almack's; so you see that in both cases +the fashion makes the indecorum. Let her ladyship new model her gowns! + + ALDA. + +Well, well, leave Lady Florence--I would rather hear you defend +Shakspeare. + + MEDON. + +I think it is Coleridge who so finely observes that Shakspeare ever kept +the high road of human life, whereon all travel, that he did not pick +out by-paths of feeling and sentiment; in him we have no moral +highwaymen, and sentimental thieves and rat-catchers, and interesting +villains, and amiable, elegant adulteresses--_a-la-mode Germanorum_--no +delicate entanglements of situation, in which the grossest images are +presented to the mind disguised under the superficial attraction of +style and sentiment. He flattered no bad passion, disguised no vice in +the garb of virtue, trifled with with no just and generous principle. He +can make us laugh at folly, and shudder at crime, yet still preserve our +love for our fellow-beings, and our reverence for ourselves. He has a +lofty and a fearless trust in his own powers, and in the beauty and +excellence of virtue; and with his eye fixed on the lode-star of truth, +steers us triumphantly among shoals and quicksands, where with any other +pilot we had been wrecked:--for instance, who but himself would have +dared to bring into close contact two such characters as Iago and +Desdemona? Had the colors in which he has arrayed Desdemona been one +atom less transparently bright and pure, the charm had been lost; she +could not have borne the approximation: some shadow from the +overpowering blackness of _his_ character must have passed over the +sun-bright purity of _hers_. For observe that Iago's disbelief in the +virtue of Desdemona is not pretended, it is real. It arises from his +total want of faith in all virtue; he is no more capable of conceiving +goodness than she is capable of conceiving evil. To the brutish +coarseness and fiendish malignity of this man, her gentleness appears +only a contemptible weakness; her purity of affection, which saw +"Othello's visage in his mind," only a perversion of taste; her bashful +modesty, only a cloak for evil propensities; so he represents them with +all the force of language and self-conviction, and we are obliged to +listen to him. He rips her to pieces before us--he would have bedeviled +an angel! yet such is the unrivalled, though passive delicacy of the +delineation, that it can stand it unhurt, untouched! It is +wonderful!--yet natural as it is wonderful! After all, there are people +in the world, whose opinions and feelings are tainted by an habitual +acquaintance with the evil side of society, though in action and +intention they remain right; and who, without the real depravity of +heart and malignity of intention of Iago, judge as he does of the +character and productions of others. + + ALDA. + +Heaven bless me from such critics! yet if genius, youth, and innocence +could not escape unslurred, can I hope to do so? I pity from my soul the +persons you allude to--for to such minds there can exist few +uncontaminated sources of pleasure either in nature or in art. + + MEDON. + +Ay--"the perfumes of Paradise were poison to the Dives, and made them +melancholy."[3] You pity them, and they will sneer at you. But what have +we here?--"Characters of Imagination--Juliet--Viola;" are these romantic +young ladies the pillars which are to sustain your moral edifice? Are +they to serve as examples or as warnings for the youth of this +enlightened age? + + ALDA. + +As warnings, of course--what else? + + MEDON. + +Against the dangers of romance?--but where are they? "Vraiment," as B. +Constant says, "je ne vois pas qu'en fait d'enthousiasme, le feu soit a +la maison." Where are they--these disciples of poetry and romance, these +victims of disinterested devotion and believing truth, these unblown +roses--all conscience and tenderness--whom it is so necessary to guard +against too much confidence in others, and too little in +themselves--where are they? + + ALDA. + +Wandering in the Elysian fields, I presume, with the romantic young +gentlemen who are too generous, too zealous in defence of innocence, too +enthusiastic in their admiration of virtue, too violent in their hatred +of vice, too sincere in friendship, too faithful in love, too active and +disinterested in the cause of truth-- + + MEDON. + +Very fair! But seriously, do you think it necessary to guard young +people, in this selfish and calculating age, against an excess of +sentiment and imagination? Do you allow no distinction between the +romance of exaggerated sentiment, and the romance of elevated thought? +Do _you_ bring cold water to quench the smouldering ashes of enthusiasm? +Methinks it is rather superfluous; and that another doctrine is needed +to withstand the heartless system of expediency which is the favorite +philosophy of the day. The warning you speak of may be gently hinted to +the few who are in danger of being misled by an excess of the generous +impulses of fancy and feeling; but need hardly, I think, be proclaimed +by sound of trumpet amid the mocks of the world. No, no; there are young +women in these days, but there is no such thing as youth--the bloom of +existence is sacrificed to a fashionable education, and where we should +find the rose-buds of the spring, we see only the fullblown, flaunting, +precocious roses of the hot-bed. + + ALDA. + +Blame then that _forcing_ system of education, the most pernicious, the +most mistaken, the most far-reaching in its miserable and mischievous +effects, that ever prevailed in this world. The custom which shut up +women in convents till they were married, and then launched them +innocent and ignorant on society, was bad enough; but not worse than a +system of education which inundates us with hard, clever, sophisticated +girls, trained by knowing mothers, and all-accomplished governesses, +with whom vanity and expediency take place of conscience and +affection--(in other words, of romance)--"frutto senile in sul giovenil +fiore;" with feelings and passions suppressed or contracted, not +governed by higher faculties and purer principles; with whom +opinion--the same false honor which sends men out to fight duels--stands +instead of the strength and the light of virtue within their own souls. +Hence the strange anomalies of artificial society--girls of sixteen who +are models of manner miracles of prudence, marvels of learning, who +sneer at sentiment, and laugh at the Juliets and the Imogens; and +matrons of forty, who, when the passions should be tame and wait upon +the judgment, amaze the world and put us to confusion with their doings. + + MEDON. + +Or turn politicians to vary the excitement--How I hate political women! + + ALDA. + +Why do you hate them? + + MEDON. + +Because they are mischievous. + + ALDA. + +But why are they mischievous? + + MEDON. + +Why!--why are they mischievous? Nay, ask them, or ask the father of all +mischief, who has not a more efficient instrument to further his designs +in this world, than a woman run mad with politics. The number of +political intriguing women of this time, whose boudoirs and +drawing-rooms are the _foyers_ of party-spirit, is another trait of +resemblance between the state of society now, and that which existed at +Paris before the revolution. + + ALDA. + +And do you think, like some interesting young lady in Miss Edgeworth's +tales, that "women have nothing to do with politics?" Do you mean to say +that women are not capable of comprehending the principles of +legislation, or of feeling an interest in the government and welfare of +their country, or of perceiving and sympathizing in the progress of +great events?--That they cannot feel patriotism? Believe me, when we do +feel it, our patriotism, like our courage and our love, has a purer +source than with you; for a man's patriotism has always some tinge of +egotism, while a woman's patriotism is generally a sentiment, and of the +noblest kind. + + MEDON. + +I agree in all this; and all this does not mitigate my horror of +political women in general, who are, I repeat it, both mischievous and +absurd. If you could but hear the reasoning in these feminine +coteries!--but you never talk politics. + + ALDA. + +Indeed I do, when I can get any one to listen to me; but I prefer +listening. As for the evil you complain of, impute it to that imperfect +education which at once cultivates and enslaves the intellect, and loads +the memory, while it fetters the judgment. Women, however well read in +history, never generalize in politics; never argue on any broad or +general principle; never reason from a consideration of past events, +their causes and consequences. But they are always political through +their affections, their prejudices, their personal _liaisons_, their +hopes, their fears. + + MEDON. + +If it were no worse, I could stand it; for that is at least feminine. + + ALDA. + +But most mischievous. For hence it is that we make such blind partisans, +such violent party women, and such wretched politicians. I never heard a +woman _talk_ politics, as it is termed, that I could not discern at once +the motive, the affection, the secret bias which swayed her opinions and +inspired her arguments. If it appeared to the Grecian sage so "difficult +for a man not to love himself, nor the things that belong to him, but +justice only?"--how much more for woman! + + MEDON. + +Then you think that a better education, based on truer moral principles, +would render women more reasonable politicians, or at least give them +some right to meddle with politics? + + ALDA. + +It would cease in that case to be _meddling_, as you term it, for it +would be legitimized. It is easy to sneer at political and mathematical +ladies, and quote Lord Byron--but O leave those angry common-places to +others!--they do not come well from you. Do not force me to remind you, +that women have achieved enough to silence them forever,[4] and how +often must that truism be repeated, that it is not a woman's attainments +which make her amiable or unamiable, estimable or the contrary, but her +qualities? A time is coming, perhaps, when the education of women will +be considered, with a view to their future destination as the mothers +and nurses of legislators and statesmen, and the cultivation of their +powers of reflection and moral feelings supersede the exciting drudgery +by which they are now crammed with knowledge and accomplishments. + + MEDON. + +Well--till that blessed period arrives, I wish you would leave us the +province of politics to ourselves. I see here you have treated of a very +different class of beings, "_women in whom the affections and the moral +sentiments predominate_." Are there many such, think you, in the world? + + ALDA. + +Yes, many such; the development of affection and sentiment is more quiet +and unobtrusive than that of passion and intellect, and less observed; +it is more common, too, therefore less remarked; but in women it +generally gives the prevailing tone to the character, except where +vanity has been made the ruling motive. + + MEDON. + +Except! I admire your exception! You make in this case the rule the +exception. Look round the world. + + ALDA. + +You are not one of those with whom that common phrase "the world" +signifies the circle, whatever and wherever that may be, which limits +our individual experience--as a child considers the visible horizon as +the bounds which shut in the mighty universe. Believe me, it is a sorry, +vulgar kind of wisdom, if it be wisdom--a shallow and confined +philosophy, if it be philosophy--which resolves all human motives and +impulses into egotism in one sex, and vanity in the other. Such may be +the way of _the world_, as it is called--the result of a very artificial +and corrupt state of society, but such is not general nature, nor female +nature. Would you see the kindly, self-sacrificing affections developed +under their most honest but least poetical guise--displayed without any +mixture of vanity, and unchecked in the display by any fear of being +thought vain?--you will see it, not among the prosperous, the high-born, +the educated, "far, far removed from want, and grief, and fear," but +among the poor, the miserable, the perverted--among those habitually +exposed to all influences that harden and deprave. + + MEDON. + +I believe it--nay, I know it; but how should _you_ know it, or anything +of the strange places of refuge which truth and nature have found in the +two extremes of society? + + ALDA. + +It is no matter what I have seen or known; and for the two extremes of +society, I leave them to the author of Paul Clifford, and that most +exquisite painter of living manners, Mrs. Gore. St. Giles's is no more +_nature_ than St. James's. I wanted character in its essential truth, +not mortified by particular customs, by fashion, by situation. I wished +to illustrate the manner in which the affections would naturally display +themselves in women--whether combined with high intellect, regulated by +reflection, and elevated by imagination, or existing with perverted +dispositions, or purified by the moral sentiments. I found all these in +Shakspeare; his delineations of women, in whom the virtuous and calm +affections predominate, and triumph over shame, fear, pride, resentment, +vanity, jealousy,--are particularly worthy of consideration, and perfect +in their kind, because so quiet in their effect. + + MEDON. + +Several critics have remarked in general terms on those beautiful +pictures of female friendship, and of the generous affection of women +for each other, which we find in Shakspeare. Other writers, especially +dramatic writers, have found ample food for wit and satiric delineation +in the littleness of feminine spite and rivalry, in the mean spirit of +competition, the petty jealousy of superior charms, the mutual slander +and mistrust, the transient leagues of folly or selfishness miscalled +friendship--the result of an education which makes vanity the ruling +principle, and of a false position in society. Shakspeare, who looked +upon women with the spirit of humanity, wisdom, and deep love, has done +justice to their natural good tendencies and kindly sympathies. In the +friendship of Beatrice and Hero, of Rosalind and Celia; in the +description of the girlish attachment of Helena and Hermia, he has +represented truth and generous affection rising superior to all the +usual sources of female rivalry and jealousy; and with such force and +simplicity, and obvious self-conviction, that he absolutely forces the +same conviction on us. + + ALDA. + +Add to these the generous feeling of Viola for her rival Olivia; of +Julia for her rival Sylvia; of Helena for Diana; of the old Countess for +Helena, in the same play; and even the affection of the wicked queen in +Hamlet for the gentle Ophelia, which prove that Shakspeare thought--(and +when did he ever think other than the truth?)--that women have by nature +"virtues that are merciful," and can be just, tender, and true to their +sister women, whatever wits and worldlings, and satirists and +fashionable poets, may say or sing of us to the contrary. There is +another thing which he has most deeply felt and beautifully +represented--the distinction between masculine and feminine _courage_. +A man's courage is often a mere animal quality, and in its most elevated +form a point of honor. But a woman's courage is always a virtue, because +it is not required of us, it is not one of the means through which we +seek admiration and applause; on the contrary, we are courageous through +our affections and mental energies, not through our vanity or our +strength. A woman's heroism is always the excess of sensibility. Do you +remember Lady Fanshawe putting on a sailor's jacket, and his "blue thrum +cap," and standing at her husband's side, unknown to him during a +sea-fight? There she stood, all bathed in tears, but fixed to that spot. +Her husband's exclamation when he turned and discovered her--"Good God, +that love should make such a change as this!" is applicable to all the +acts of courage which we read or hear of in women. This is the courage +of Juliet, when, after summing up all the possible consequences of her +own act, till she almost maddens herself with terror, she drinks the +sleeping potion; and for that passive fortitude which is founded in +piety and pure strength of affection, such as the heroism of Lady Russel +and Gertrude de Wart, he has given us some of the noblest modifications +of it in Hermione, in Cordelia, in Imogen, in Katherine of Arragon. + + MEDON. + +And what do you call the courage of Lady Macbeth?-- + + My hands are of your color, but I shame + To wear a heart so white. + +And again, + + A little water clears us of this deed, + How easy is it then! + +If this is not mere masculine indifference to blood and death, mere +firmness of nerve, what is it? + + ALDA. + +Not _that_, at least, which apparently you deem it; you will find, if +you have patience to read me to the end, that I have judged Lady Macbeth +very differently. Take these frightful passages with the context--take +the whole situation, and you will see that it is no such thing. A friend +of mine truly observed, that if Macbeth had been a ruffian without any +qualms of conscience, Lady Macbeth would have been the one to shrink and +tremble; but that which quenched _him_ lent her fire. The absolute +necessity for self-command, the strength of her reason, and her love for +her husband, combine at this critical moment to conquer all fear but the +fear of detection, leaving her the full possession of her faculties. +Recollect that the same woman who speaks with such horrible indifference +of a little water clearing the blood-stain from her hand, sees in +imagination that hand forever reeking, forever polluted: and when reason +is no longer awake and paramount over the violated feelings of nature +and womanhood, we behold her making unconscious efforts to wash out +that "damned spot," and sighing, heart-broken, over that little hand +which all the perfumes of Arabia will never sweeten more. + + MEDON. + +I hope you have given her a place among the women in whom the tender +affections and moral sentiments predominate. + + ALDA. + +You laugh; but, jesting apart, perhaps it would have been a more +accurate classification than placing her among the historical +characters. + + MEDON. + +Apropos to the historical characters, I hope you have refuted that +_insolent_ assumption, (shall I call it?) that Shakspeare tampered +inexcusably with the truth of history. He is the truest of all +historians. His anachronisms always remind me of those in the fine old +Italian pictures; either they are insignificant, or, if properly +considered, are really beauties; for instance, every one knows that +Correggio's St. Jerome presenting his books to the Virgin, involves +half-a-dozen anachronisms,--to say nothing of that heavenly figure of +the Magdalen, in the same picture, kissing the feet of the infant +Saviour. Some have ridiculed, some have excused this strange combination +of inaccuracies but is it less one of the divinest pieces of sentiment +and poetry that ever breathed and glowed from the canvas? You remember +too the famous nativity by some Neapolitan painter, who has placed Mount +Vesuvius and the Bay of Naples in the background? In these and a hundred +other instances, no one seems to feel that the apparent absurdity +involves the highest truth, and that the sacred beings thus represented, +if once allowed as objects of faith and worship, are eternal under every +aspect, and independent of all time and all locality. So it is with +Shakspeare and his anachronisms. The learned scorn of Johnson and some +of his brotherhood of commentators, and the eloquent defence of +Schlegel, seem in this case superfluous. If he chose to make the Delphic +oracle and Julio Romano contemporary--what does it signify? he committed +no anachronisms of character. He has not metamorphosed Cleopatra into a +turtle-dove, nor Katherine of Arragon into a sentimental heroine. He is +true to the spirit and even to the _letter_ of history; where he +deviates from the latter, the reason may be found in some higher beauty +and more universal truth. + + ALDA. + +I have proved this, I think, by placing parallel with the dramatic +character all the historic testimony I could collect relative to +Constance, Cleopatra, Katherine of Arragon, &c. + + MEDON. + +Analyzing the character of Cleopatra must have been something like +catching a meteor by the tail, and making it sit for its picture. + + ALDA. + +Something like it, in truth; but those of Miranda and Ophelia were more +embarrassing, because they seemed to defy all analysis. It was like +intercepting the dew-drop or the snow-flake ere it fell to earth, and +subjecting it to a chemical process. + + MEDON. + +Some one said the other day that Shakspeare had never drawn a coquette. +What is Cleopatra but the empress and type of all the coquettes that +ever were--or are? She would put Lady ---- herself to school. But now +for the moral. + + ALDA. + +The moral!--of what? + + MEDON. + +Of your book. It has a moral, I suppose. + + ALDA. + +It has indeed a very deep one, which those who seek will find. If now I +have answered all your considerations and objections, and sufficiently +explained my own views, may I proceed? + + MEDON. + +If you please--I am prepared to listen in earnest. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] See Foster's Essay on the application of the word +_romantic_--_Essays_, vol. I + +[2] Correspondence, vol. iii. + +[3] An Oriental proverb + +[4] In our own time, Madame de Stael, Mrs. Somerville, Harriet +Martineau, Mrs. Marcet; we need not go back to the Rolands and Agnesi, +nor even to our own Lucy Hutchinson. + + + + +CHARACTERS OF INTELLECT. + + +PORTIA. + +We hear it asserted, not seldom by way of compliment to us women, that +intellect is of no sex. If this mean that the same faculties of mind are +common to men and women, it is true; in any other signification it +appears to me false, and the reverse of a compliment. The intellect of +woman bears the same relation to that of man as her physical +organization;--it is inferior in power, and different in kind. That +certain women have surpassed certain men in bodily strength or +intellectual energy, does not contradict the general principle founded +in nature. The essential and invariable distinction appears to me this: +in men the intellectual faculties exist more self-poised and +self-directed--more independent of the rest of the character, than we +ever find them in women, with whom talent, however predominant, is in a +much greater degree modified by the sympathies and moral qualities. + +In thinking over all the distinguished women can at this moment call to +mind, I recollect but one, who, in the exercise of a rare talent, belied +her sex, but the moral qualities had been first perverted.[5] It is from +not knowing, or not allowing this general principle, that men of genius +have committed some signal mistakes. They have given us exquisite and +just delineations of the more peculiar characteristics of women, as +modesty, grace, tenderness; and when they have attempted to portray them +with the powers common to both sexes, as wit, energy, intellect, they +have blundered in some respect; they could form no conception of +intellect which was not masculine, and therefore have either suppressed +the feminine attributes altogether and drawn coarse caricatures, or they +have made them completely artificial.[6] Women distinguished for wit may +sometimes appear masculine and flippant, but the cause must be sought +elsewhere than in nature, who disclaims all such. Hence the witty and +intellectual ladies of our comedies and novels are all in the fashion of +some particular time; they are like some old portraits which can still +amuse and please by the beauty of the workmanship, in spite of the +graceless costume or grotesque accompaniments, but from which we turn to +worship with ever new delight the Floras and goddesses of Titian--the +saints and the virgins of Raffaelle and Domenichino. So the Millamants +and Belindas, the Lady Townleys and Lady Teazles are out of date, while +Portia and Rosalind, in whom nature and the feminine character are +paramount, remain bright and fresh to the fancy as when first created. + +Portia, Isabella, Beatrice, and Rosalind, may be classed together, as +characters of intellect, because, when compared with others, they are at +once distinguished by their mental superiority. In Portia, it is +intellect kindled into romance by a poetical imagination; in Isabel, it +is intellect elevated by religious principle; in Beatrice, intellect +animated by spirit; in Rosalind, intellect softened by sensibility. The +wit which is lavished on each is profound, or pointed, or sparkling, or +playful--but always feminine; like spirits distilled from flowers, it +always reminds us of its origin; it is a volatile essence, sweet as +powerful; and to pursue the comparison a step further the wit of Portia +is like ottar of roses, rich and concentrated; that of Rosalind, like +cotton dipped in aromatic vinegar; the wit of Beatrice is like sal +volatile; and that of Isabel, like the incense wafted to heaven. Of +these four exquisite characters, considered as dramatic and poetical +conceptions, it is difficult to pronounce which is most perfect in its +way, most admirably drawn, most highly finished. But if considered in +another point of view, as women and individuals, as breathing realities, +clothed in flesh and blood, I believe we must assign the first rank to +Portia, as uniting in herself in a more eminent degree than the others, +all the noblest and most lovable qualities that ever met together in +woman; and presenting a complete personification of Petrarch's exquisite +epitome of female perfection:-- + + Il vago spirito ardento, + E'n alto intelletto, un puro core. + +It is singular, that hitherto no critical justice has been done to the +character of Portia; it is yet more wonderful, that one of the finest +writers on the eternal subject of Shakspeare and his perfections, should +accuse Portia of pedantry and affectation, and confess she is not a +great favorite of his--a confession quite worthy of him, who avers his +predilection for servant-maids, and his preference of the Fannys and the +Pamelas over the Clementinas and Clarissas.[7] Schlegel, who has given +several pages to a rapturous eulogy on the Merchant of Venice, simply +designates Portia as a "rich, beautiful, clever heiress:"--whether the +fault lie in the writer or translator, I do protest against the word +clever.[8] Portia _clever!_ what an epithet to apply to this heavenly +compound of talent, feeling, wisdom, beauty, and gentleness! Now would +it not be well, if this common and comprehensive word were more +accurately defined, or at least more accurately used? It signifies +properly, not so much the possession of high powers, as dexterity in the +adaptation of certain faculties (not necessarily of a high order) to a +certain end or aim--not always the worthiest. It implies something +common-place, inasmuch as it speaks the presence of the _active_ and +_perceptive_, with a deficiency of the _feeling_ and _reflective_ +powers; and applied to a woman, does it not almost invariably suggest +the idea of something we should distrust or shrink from, if not allied +to a higher nature? The profligate French women, who ruled the councils +of Europe in the middle of the last century, were clever women; and that +_philosopheress_ Madame du Chatelet, who managed, at one and the same +moment, the thread of an intrigue, her cards at piquet, and a +calculation in algebra, was a very clever woman! If Portia had been +created as a mere instrument to bring about a dramatic catastrophe--if +she had merely detected the flaw in Antonio's bond, and used it as a +means to baffle the Jew, she might have been pronounced a clever woman. +But what Portia does, is forgotten in what she _is_. The rare and +harmonious blending of energy, reflection, and feeling, in her fine +character, make the epithet _clever_ sound like a discord as applied to +_her_, and place her infinitely beyond the slight praise of Richardson +and Schlegel, neither of whom appear to have fully comprehended her. + +These and other critics have been apparently so dazzled and engrossed by +the amazing character of Shylock, that Portia has received less than +justice at their hands; while the fact is, that Shylock is not a finer +or more finished character in his way, than Portia is in hers. These two +splendid figures are worthy of each other; worthy of being placed +together within the same rich framework of enchanting poetry, and +glorious and graceful forms. She hangs beside the terrible, inexorable +Jew, the brilliant lights of her character set off by the shadowy power +of his, like a magnificent beauty-breathing Titian by the side of a +gorgeous Rembrandt. + +Portia is endued with her own share of those delightful qualities, which +Shakspeare has lavished on many of his female characters; but besides +the dignity, the sweetness, and tenderness which should distinguish her +sex generally, she is individualized by qualities peculiar to herself; +by her high mental powers, her enthusiasm of temperament, her decision +of purpose, and her buoyancy of spirit. These are innate; she has other +distinguishing qualities more external, and which are the result of the +circumstances in which she is placed. Thus she is the heiress of a +princely name and countless wealth; a train of obedient pleasures have +ever waited round her; and from infancy she has breathed an atmosphere +redolent of perfume and blandishment Accordingly there is a commanding +grace, a highbred, airy elegance, a spirit of magnificence in all that +she does and says, as one to whom splendor had been familiar from her +very birth. She treads as though her footsteps had been among marble +palaces, beneath roofs of fretted gold, o'er cedar floors and pavements +of jasper and porphyry--amid gardens full of statues, and flowers, and +fountains, and haunting music. She is full of penetrative wisdom, and +genuine tenderness, and lively wit; but as she has never known want, or +grief, or fear, or disappointment, her wisdom is without a touch of the +sombre or the sad; her affections are all mixed up with faith, hope and +joy; and her wit has not a particle of malevolence or causticity. + +It is well known that the Merchant of Venice is founded on two different +tales; and in weaving together his double plot in so masterly a manner, +Shakspeare has rejected altogether the character of the astutious Lady +of Belmont with her magic potions, who figures in the Italian novel. +With yet more refinement, he has thrown out all the licentious part of +the story, which some of his contemporary dramatists would have seized +on with avidity, and made the best or worst of it possible; and he has +substituted the trial of the caskets from another source.[9] We are not +told expressly where Belmont is situated; but as Bassanio takes ship to +go thither from Venice, and as we find them afterwards ordering horses +from Belmont to Padua, we will imagine Portia's hereditary palace as +standing on some lovely promontory between Venice and Trieste, +overlooking the blue Adriatic, with the Friuli mountains or the Euganean +hills for its background, such as we often see in one of Claude's or +Poussin's elysian landscapes. In a scene, in a home like this, +Shakspeare, having first exorcised the original possessor, has placed +his Portia; and so endowed her, that all the wild, strange, and moving +circumstances of the story, become natural, probable, and necessary in +connexion with her. That such a woman should be chosen by the solving of +an enigma, is not surprising: herself and all around her, the scene, the +country, the age in which she is placed, breathe of poetry, romance, and +enchantment. + + From the four quarters of the earth they come + To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint + The Hyrcanian desert, and the vasty wilds + Of wide Arabia, are as thoroughfares now, + For princes to come view fair Portia; + The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head + Spits in the face of heaven is no bar + To stop the foreign spirits; but they come + As o'er a brook to see fair Portia. + +The sudden plan which she forms for the release of her husband's friend, +her disguise, and her deportment as the young and learned doctor, would +appear forced and improbable in any other woman but in Portia are the +simple and natural result of her character.[10] The quickness with which +she perceives the legal advantage which may be taken of the +circumstances; the spirit of adventure with which she engages in the +masquerading, and the decision, firmness, and intelligence with which +she executes her generous purpose, are all in perfect keeping, and +nothing appears forced--nothing as introduced merely for theatrical +effect. + +But all the finest parts of Portia's character are brought to bear in +the trial scene. There she shines forth all her divine self. Her +intellectual powers, her elevated sense of religion, her high honorable +principles, her best feelings as a woman, are all displayed. She +maintains at first a calm self-command, as one sure of carrying her +point in the end; yet the painful heart-thrilling uncertainty in which +she keeps the whole court, until suspense verges upon agony, is not +contrived for effect merely; it is necessary and inevitable. She has two +objects in view; to deliver her husband's friend, and to maintain her +husband's honor by the discharge of his just debt, though paid out of +her own wealth ten times over. It is evident that she would rather owe +the safety of Antonio to any thing rather than the legal quibble with +which her cousin Bellario has armed her, and which she reserves as a +last resource. Thus all the speeches addressed to Shylock in the first +instance, are either direct or indirect experiments on his temper and +feelings. She must be understood from the beginning to the end as +examining, with intense anxiety, the effect of her own words on his mind +and countenance; as watching for that relenting spirit, which she hopes +to awaken either by reason or persuasion. She begins by an appeal to his +mercy, in that matchless piece of eloquence, which, with an irresistible +and solemn pathos, falls upon the heart like "gentle dew from +heaven:"--but in vain; for that blessed dew drops not more fruitless and +unfelt on the parched sand of the desert, than do these heavenly words +upon the ear of Shylock. She next attacks his avarice: + + Shylock, there's _thrice_ thy money offered thee! + +Then she appeals, in the same breath, both to his avarice and his pity: + + Be merciful! + Take thrice thy money. Bid me tear the bond. + +All that she says afterwards--her strong expressions, which are +calculated to strike a shuddering horror through the nerves--the +reflections she interposes--her delays and circumlocution to give time +for any latent feeling of commiseration to display itself--all, all are +premeditated and tend in the same manner to the object she has in view. +Thus-- + + You must prepare your bosom for his knife. + Therefore lay bare your bosom! + +These two speeches, though addressed apparently to Antonio, are spoken +_at_ Shylock, and are evidently intended to penetrate _his_ bosom. In +the same spirit she asks for the balance to weigh the pound of flesh; +and entreats of Shylock to have a surgeon ready-- + + Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, + To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death! + + SHYLOCK. + + Is it so nominated in the bond? + + PORTIA. + + It is not so expressed--but what of that? + 'Twere good you do so much, for _charity_. + +So unwilling is her sanguine and generous spirit to resign all hope, or +to believe that humanity is absolutely extinct in the bosom of the Jew, +that she calls on Antonio, as a last resource, to speak for himself. His +gentle, yet manly resignation--the deep pathos of his farewell, and the +affectionate allusion to herself in his last address to Bassanio-- + + Commend me to your honorable wife; + Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death, &c. + +are well calculated to swell that emotion, which through the whole scene +must have been laboring suppressed within her heart. + +At length the crisis arrives, for patience and womanhood can endure no +longer; and when Shylock, carrying his savage bent "to the last hour of +act," springs on his victim--"A sentence come, prepare!" then the +smothered scorn, indignation, and disgust, burst forth with an +impetuosity which interferes with the judicial solemnity she had at +first affected;--particularly in the speech-- + + Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh. + Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more, + But just the pound of flesh; if thou tak'st more, + Or less than a just pound,--be it but so much + As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance, + Or the division of the twentieth part + Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn + But in the estimation of a hair,-- + Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. + +But she afterwards recovers her propriety, and triumphs with a cooler +scorn and a more self-possessed exultation. + +It is clear that, to feel the full force and dramatic beauty of this +marvellous scene, we must go along with Portia as well as with Shylock; +we must understand her concealed purpose, keep in mind her noble +motives, and pursue in our fancy the under current of feeling, working +in her mind throughout. The terror and the power of Shylock's +character,--his deadly and inexorable malice,--would be too oppressive; +the pain and pity too intolerable, and the horror of the possible issue +too overwhelming, but for the intellectual relief afforded by this +double source of interest and contemplation. + +I come now to that capacity for warm and generous affection, that +tenderness of heart, which render Portia not less lovable as a woman, +than admirable for her mental endowments. The affections are to the +intellect, what the forge is to the metal; it is they which temper and +shape it to all good purposes, and soften, strengthen, and purify it. +What an exquisite stroke of judgment in the poet, to make the mutual +passion of Portia and Bassanio, though unacknowledged to each other, +anterior to the opening of the play! Bassanio's confession very properly +comes first:-- + + BASSANIO. + + In Belmont is a lady richly left, + And she is fair, and fairer than that word, + Of wond'rous virtues: sometimes from her eyes + I did receive fair speechless messages; + + * * * * + +and prepares us for Portia's half betrayed, unconscious election of this +most graceful and chivalrous admirer-- + + NERISSA. + + Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a + Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in + company of the Marquis of Montferrat? + + PORTIA. + + Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so he was called. + + NERISSA. + + True, madam; he of all the men that ever my foolish + eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair + lady. + + PORTIA. + + I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of + thy praise. + +Our interest is thus awakened for the lovers from the very first; and +what shall be said of the casket-scene with Bassanio, where every line +which Portia speaks is so worthy of herself, so full of sentiment and +beauty, and poetry and passion? Too naturally frank for disguise, too +modest to confess her depth of love while the issue of the trial remains +in suspense, the conflict between love and fear, and maidenly dignity, +cause the most delicious confusion that ever tinged a woman's cheek, or +dropped in broken utterance from her lips. + + I pray you, tarry, pause a day or two, + Before you hazard; for in choosing wrong, + I lose your company; therefore, forbear awhile; + There's something tells me, (but it is not love,) + I would not lose you; and you know yourself, + Hate counsels not in such a quality: + But lest you should not understand me well, + (And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought) + I would detain you here some month or two + Before you venture for me. I could teach you + How to choose right,--but then I am forsworn;-- + So will I never be: so you may miss me;-- + But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, + That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, + They have o'erlooked me, and divided me: + One half of me is yours, the other half yours,-- + Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, + And so all yours! + +The short dialogue between the lovers is exquisite. + + BASSANIO. + + Let me choose, + For, as I am, I live upon the rack. + + PORTIA. + + Upon the rack, Bassanio? Then confess + What treason there is mingled with your love. + + BASSANIO. + + None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, + Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love. + There may as well be amity and life + 'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. + + PORTIA. + + Ay! but I fear you speak upon the rack, + Where men enforced do speak any thing. + + BASSANIO. + + Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth. + + PORTIA. + + Well then, confess, and live. + + BASSANIO. + + Confess and love + Had been the very sum of my confession! + O happy torment, when my torturer + Doth teach me answers for deliverance! + +A prominent feature in Portia's character is that confiding, buoyant +spirit, which mingles with all her thoughts and affections. And here let +me observe, that I never yet met in real life, nor ever read in tale or +history, of any woman, distinguished for intellect of the highest +order, who was not also remarkable for this trusting spirit, this +hopefulness and cheerfulness of temper, which is compatible with the +most serious habits of thought, and the most profound sensibility. Lady +Wortley Montagu was one instance; and Madame de Stael furnishes another +much more memorable. In her Corinne, whom she drew from herself, this +natural brightness of temper is a prominent part of the character. A +disposition to doubt, to suspect, and to despond, in the young, argues, +in general, some inherent weakness, moral or physical, or some miserable +and radical error of education; in the old, it is one of the first +symptoms of age; it speaks of the influence of sorrow and experience, +and foreshows the decay of the stronger and more generous powers of the +soul. Portia's strength of intellect takes a natural tinge from the +flush and bloom of her young and prosperous existence, and from her +fervent imagination. In the casket-scene, she fears indeed the issue of +the trial; on which more than her life is hazarded but while she +trembles, her hope is stronger than her fear. While Bassanio is +contemplating the caskets, she suffers herself to dwell for one moment +on the possibility of disappointment and misery. + + Let music sound while he doth make his choice; + Then if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, + Fading in music: that the comparison + May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream + And watery death-bed for him. + +Then, immediately follows that revulsion of feeling, so beautifully +characteristic of the hopeful, trusting, mounting spirit of this noble +creature. + + But he may win! + And what is music then?--then music is + Even as the flourish, when true subjects bow + To a new-crowned monarch: such it is + As are those dulcet sounds at break of day, + That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear, + And summon him to marriage. Now he goes + With no less presence, but with much more love + Than young Alcides, when he did redeem + The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy + To the sea monster. I stand here for sacrifice. + +Here, not only the feeling itself, born of the elastic and sanguine +spirit which had never been touched by grief, but the images in which it +comes arrayed to her fancy,--the bridegroom waked by music on his +wedding-morn,--the new-crowned monarch,--the comparison of Bassanio to +the young Alcides, and of herself to the daughter of Laomedon,--are all +precisely what would have suggested themselves to the fine poetical +imagination of Portia in such a moment. + +Her passionate exclamations of delight, when Bassanio has fixed on the +right casket, are as strong as though she had despaired before. Fear and +doubt she could repel; the native elasticity of her mind bore up against +them; yet she makes us feel, that, as the sudden joy overpowers her +almost to fainting, the disappointment would as certainly have killed +her. + + How all the other passions fleet to air, + As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, + And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy? + O love! be moderate, allay thy ecstasy; + In measure rain thy joy scant this excess; + I feel too much thy blessing: make it less, + For fear I surfeit! + +Her subsequent surrender of herself in heart and soul, of her maiden +freedom, and her vast possessions, can never be read without deep +emotions; for not only all the tenderness and delicacy of a devoted +woman, are here blended with all the dignity which becomes the princely +heiress of Belmont, but the serious, measured self-possession of her +address to her lover, when all suspense is over, and all concealment +superfluous, is most beautifully consistent with the character. It is, +in truth, an awful moment, that in which a gifted woman first discovers, +that besides talents and powers, she has also passions and affections; +when she first begins to suspect their vast importance in the sum of her +existence; when she first confesses that her happiness is no longer in +her own keeping, but is surrendered forever and forever into the +dominion of another! The possession of uncommon powers of mind are so +far from affording relief or resource in the first intoxicating +surprise--I had almost said terror--of such a revolution, that they +render it more intense. The sources of thought multiply beyond +calculation the sources of feeling; and mingled, they rush together, a +torrent deep as strong. Because Portia is endued with that enlarged +comprehension which looks before and after, she does not feel the less, +but the more: because from the height of her commanding intellect she +can contemplate the force, the tendency, the consequences of her own +sentiments--because she is fully sensible of her own situation, and the +value of all she concedes--the concession is not made with less +entireness and devotion of heart, less confidence in the truth and worth +of her lover, than when Juliet, in a similar moment, but without any +such intrusive reflections--any check but the instinctive delicacy of +her sex, flings herself and her fortunes at the feet of her lover: + + And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, + And follow thee, my lord, through all the world.[11] + +In Portia's confession, which is not breathed from a moonlit balcony, +but spoken openly in the presence of her attendants and vassals, there +is nothing of the passionate self-abandonment of Juliet, nor of the +artless simplicity of Miranda, but a consciousness and a tender +seriousness, approaching to solemnity, which are not less touching. + + You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, + Such as I am: though for myself alone, + I would not be ambitious in my wish, + To wish myself much better; yet, for you, + I would be trebled twenty times myself; + A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times + More rich; that only to stand high in your account, + I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, + Exceed account; but the full sum of me + Is sum of something; which to term in gross, + Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd, + Happy in this, she is not yet so old + But she may learn; and happier than this, + She is not bred so dull but she can learn; + Happiest of all is, that her gentle spirit + Commits itself to yours to be directed, + As from her lord, her governor, her king. + Myself and what is mine, to you and yours + Is now converted. But now, I was the lord, + Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, + Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, + This house, these servants, and this same myself, + Are yours, my lord. + +We must also remark that the sweetness, the solicitude, the subdued +fondness which she afterwards displays, relative to the letter, are as +true to the softness of her sex, as the generous self-denial with which +she urges the departure of Bassanio, (having first given him a husband's +right over herself and all her countless wealth,) is consistent with a +reflecting mind, and a spirit at once tender, reasonable, and +magnanimous. + +It is not only in the trial scene that Portia's acuteness, eloquence, +and lively intelligence are revealed to us; they are displayed in the +first instance, and kept up consistently to the end. Her reflections, +arising from the most usual aspects of nature, and from the commonest +incidents of life are in such a poetical spirit, and are at the same +time so pointed, so profound, that they have passed into familiar and +daily application, with all the force of proverbs. + + If to do, were as easy as to know what were good to do, + chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' + palaces. + + I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be + one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. + + The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, + When neither is attended; and, I think, + The nightingale, if she should sing by day, + When every goose is cackling, would be thought + No better a musician than the wren. + How many things by season, seasoned are + To their right praise and true perfection! + + How far that little candle throws his beams! + So shines a good deed in a naughty world. + A substitute shines as brightly as a king, + Until a king be by; and then his state + Empties itself, as doth an inland brook, + Into the main of waters. + +Her reflections on the friendship between her husband and Antonio are as +full of deep meaning as of tenderness; and her portrait of a young +coxcomb, in the same scene, is touched with a truth and spirit which +show with what a keen observing eye she has looked upon men and things. + + ----I'll hold thee any wager, + When we are both accouter'd like young men. + I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, + And wear my dagger with the braver grace + And speak, between the change of man and boy + With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps + Into a manly stride; and speak of frays, + Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies-- + How honorable ladies sought my love, + Which I denying, they fell sick and died; + I could not do withal: then I'll repent, + And wish, for all that, that I had not killed them; + And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell, + That men should swear, I have discontinued school + Above a twelvemonth! + +And in the description of her various suitors, in the first scene with +Nerissa, what infinite power, wit, and vivacity! She half checks herself +as she is about to give the reins to her sportive humor: "In truth, I +know it is a sin to be a mocker."--But if it carries her away, if is so +perfectly good-natured, so temperately bright, so lady-like, it is ever +without offence; and so far, most unlike the satirical, poignant, +unsparing wit of Beatrice, "misprising what she looks on." In fact, I +can scarce conceive a greater contrast than between the vivacity of +Portia and the vivacity of Beatrice. Portia, with all her airy +brilliance, is supremely soft and dignified; every thing she says or +does, displays her capability for profound thought and feeling, as well +as her lively and romantic disposition; and as I have seen in an Italian +garden a fountain flinging round its wreaths of showery light, while the +many-colored Iris hung brooding above it, in its calm and soul-felt +glory; so in Portia the wit is ever kept subordinate to the poetry, and +we still feel the tender, the intellectual, and the imaginative part of +the character, as superior to, and presiding over its spirit and +vivacity. + +In the last act, Shylock and his machinations being dismissed from our +thoughts, and the rest of the _dramatis personae_ assembled together at +Belmont, all our interest and all our attention are riveted on Portia, +and the conclusion leaves the most delightful impression on the fancy. +The playful equivoque of the rings, the sportive trick she puts on her +husband, and her thorough enjoyment of the jest, which she checks just +as it is proceeding beyond the bounds of propriety, show how little she +was displeased by the sacrifice of her gift, and are all consistent with +her bright and buoyant spirit. In conclusion; when Portia invites her +company to enter her palace to refresh themselves after their travels, +and talk over "these events at full," the imagination, unwilling to lose +sight of the brilliant group, follows them in gay procession from the +lovely moonlight garden to marble halls and princely revels, to splendor +and festive mirth, to love and happiness. + +Many women have possessed many of those qualities which render Portia so +delightful. She is in herself a piece of reality, in whose possible +existence we have no doubt: and yet a human being, in whom the moral, +intellectual, and sentient faculties should be so exquisitely blended +and proportioned to each other; and these again, in harmony with all +outward aspects and influences probably never existed--certainly could +not now exist. A woman constituted like Portia, and placed in this age, +and in the actual state of society, would find society armed against +her; and instead of being like Portia, a gracious, happy, beloved, and +loving creature, would be a victim, immolated in fire to that +multitudinous Moloch termed Opinion. With her, the world without would +be at war with the world within; in the perpetual strife, either her +nature would "be subdued to the element it worked in," and bending to a +necessity it could neither escape nor approve, lose at last something of +its original brightness; or otherwise--a perpetual spirit of resistance, +cherished as a safeguard, might perhaps in the end destroy the +equipoise; firmness would become pride and self-assurance; and the soft, +sweet, feminine texture of the mind, settle into rigidity. Is there then +no sanctuary for such a mind?--Where shall it find a refuge from the +world?--Where seek for strength against itself? Where, but in heaven? + +Camiola, in Massinger's Maid of Honor, is said to emulate Portia; and +the real story of Camiola (for she is an historical personage) is very +beautiful. She was a lady of Messina, who lived in the beginning of the +fourteenth century; and was the contemporary of Queen Joanna, of +Petrarch and Boccaccio. It fell out in those days, that Prince Orlando +of Arragon, the younger brother of the King of Sicily, having taken the +command of a naval armament against the Neapolitans, was defeated, +wounded, taken prisoner, and confined by Robert of Naples (the father of +Queen Joanna) in one of his strongest castles. As the prince had +distinguished himself by his enmity to the Neapolitans, and by many +exploits against them, his ransom was fixed at an exorbitant sum, and +his captivity was unusually severe; while the King of Sicily, who had +some cause of displeasure against his brother, and imputed to him the +defeat of his armament, refused either to negotiate for his release, or +to pay the ransom demanded. + +Orlando, who was celebrated for his fine person and reckless valour, was +apparently doomed to languish away the rest of his life in a dungeon, +when Camiola Turinga, a rich Sicilian heiress, devoted the half of her +fortune to release him. But as such an action might expose her to evil +comments, she made it a condition, that Orlando should marry her. The +prince gladly accepted the terms, and sent her the contract of marriage, +signed by his hand; but no sooner was he at liberty, than he refused to +fulfil it, and even denied all knowledge of his benefactress. + +Camiola appealed to the tribunal of state, produced the written +contract, and described the obligations she had heaped on this +ungrateful and ungenerous man; sentence was given against him, and he +was adjudged to Camiola, not only as her rightful husband, but as a +property which, according to the laws of war in that age, she had +purchased with her gold. The day of marriage was fixed; Orlando +presented himself with a splendid retinue; Camiola also appeared, +decorated as for her bridal; but instead of bestowing her hand on the +recreant, she reproached him in the presence of all with his breach of +faith, declared her utter contempt for his baseness; and then freely +bestowing on him the sum paid for his ransom, as a gift worthy of his +mean soul, she turned away, and dedicated herself and her heart to +heaven. In this resolution she remained inflexible, though the king and +all the court united in entreaties to soften her. She took the veil; and +Orlando, henceforth regarded as one who had stained his knighthood, and +violated his faith, passed the rest of his life as a dishonored man, and +died in obscurity. + +Camiola, in "The Maid of Honor," is, like Portia, a wealthy heiress, +surrounded by suitors, and "queen o'er herself:" the character is +constructed upon the same principles, as great intellectual power, +magnanimity of temper, and feminine tenderness; but not only do pain and +disquiet, and the change induced by unkind and inauspicious influences, +enter into this sweet picture to mar and cloud its happy beauty,--but +the portrait itself may be pronounced out of drawing;--for Massinger +apparently had not sufficient delicacy of sentiment to work out his own +conception of the character with perfect consistency. In his adaptation +of the story he represents the mutual love of Orlando and Camiola as +existing previous to the captivity of the former, and on his part +declared with many vows of eternal faith, yet she requires a written +contract of marriage before she liberates him. It will perhaps be said +that she has penetrated his weakness, and anticipates his falsehood: +miserable excuse!--how could a magnanimous woman love a man, whose +falsehood she believes but _possible_?--or loving him, how could she +deign to secure herself by such means against the consequences? +Shakspeare and Nature never committed such a solecism. Camiola doubts +before she has been wronged; the firmness and assurance in herself +border on harshness. What in Portia is the gentle wisdom of a noble +nature, appears, in Camiola, too much a spirit of calculation: it savors +a little of the counting house. As Portia is the heiress of Belmont, and +Camiola a merchant's daughter, the distinction may be proper and +characteristic, but it is not in favor of Camiola. The contrast may be +thus illustrated: + + CAMIOLA. + + You have heard of Bertoldo's captivity and the king's + neglect, the greatness of his ransom; _fifty thousand + crowns_, Adorni! _Two parts of my estate!_ Yet I so love the + gentleman, for to you I will confess my weakness, that I + purpose now, when he is forsaken by the king and his own + hopes, to ransom him. + + _Maid of Honor_, _Act. 3_. + + PORTIA. + + What sum owes he the Jew? + + BASSANIO. + + For me--three thousand ducats. + + PORTIA. + + What! _no more!_ + Pay him six thousand and deface the bond, + Double six thousand, and then treble that, + Before a friend of this description + Shall lose a hair thro' my Bassanio's fault. + ----You shall have gold + To pay the _petty debt_ twenty times o'er. + + _Merchant of Venice._ + +Camiola, who is a Sicilian, might as well have been born at Amsterdam: +Portia could have only existed in Italy. Portia is profound as she is +brilliant; Camiola is sensible and sententious; she asserts her dignity +very successfully; but we cannot for a moment imagine Portia as reduced +to the necessity of asserting hers. The idiot Sylli, in "The Maid of +Honor," who follows Camiola like one of the deformed dwarfs of old time, +is an intolerable violation of taste and propriety, and it sensibly +lowers our impression of the principal character. Shakspeare would never +have placed Sir Andrew Aguecheek in constant and immediate approximation +with such a woman as Portia. + +Lastly, the charm of the poetical coloring is wholly wanting in Camiola, +so that when she is placed in contrast with the glowing eloquence, the +luxuriant grace, the buoyant spirit of Portia, the effect is somewhat +that of coldness and formality. Notwithstanding the dignity and the +beauty of Massinger's delineation, and the noble self-devotion of +Camiola, which I acknowledge and admire, the two characters will admit +of no comparison as sources of contemplation and pleasure. + + * * * * * + +It is observable that something of the intellectual brilliance of Portia +is reflected on the other female characters of the "Merchant of Venice," +so as to preserve in the midst of contrast a certain harmony and +keeping. Thus Jessica, though properly kept subordinate, is certainly + + A most beautiful pagan--a most sweet Jew. + +She cannot be called a sketch--or if a sketch, she is like one of those +dashed off in glowing colors from the rainbow pallette of a Rubens; she +has a rich tinge of orientalism shed over her, worthy of her eastern +origin. In any other play, and in any other companionship than that of +the matchless Portia, Jessica would make a very beautiful heroine of +herself. Nothing can be more poetically, more classically fanciful and +elegant, than the scenes between her and Lorenzo;--the celebrated +moonlight dialogue, for instance, which we all have by heart. Every +sentiment she utters interests us for her:--more particularly her +bashful self-reproach, when flying in the disguise of a page;-- + + I am glad 'tis night, you do not look upon me, + For I am much asham'd of my exchange; + But love is blind, and lovers cannot see + The pretty follies that themselves commit; + For if they could, Cupid himself would blush + To see me thus transformed to a boy. + +And the enthusiastic and generous testimony to the superior graces and +accomplishments of Portia comes with a peculiar grace from her lips. + + Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match. + And on the wager lay two earthly women, + And Portia one, there must be something else + Pawned with the other; for the poor rude world + Hath not her fellow. + +We should not, however, easily pardon her for cheating her father with +so much indifference, but for the perception that Shylock values his +daughter far beneath his wealth. + + I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in + her ear!--would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats + in her coffin! + +Nerissa is a good specimen of a common genus of characters; she is a +clever confidential waiting-woman, who has caught a little of her lady's +elegance and romance; she affects to be lively and sententious, falls in +love, and makes her favor conditional on the fortune of the caskets, and +in short mimics her mistress with good emphasis and discretion. Nerissa +and the gay talkative Gratiano are as well matched as the incomparable +Portia and her magnificent and captivating lover. + + +ISABELLA. + +The character of Isabella, considered as a poetical delineation, is less +mixed than that of Portia; and the dissimilarity between the two +appears, at first view, so complete that we can scarce believe that the +same elements enter into the composition of each. Yet so it is; they are +portrayed as equally wise, gracious, virtuous, fair, and young; we +perceive in both the same exalted principle and firmness of character; +the same depth of reflection and persuasive eloquence; the same +self-denying generosity and capability of strong affections; and we must +wonder at that marvellous power by which qualities and endowments, +essentially and closely allied, are so combined and modified as to +produce a result altogether different. "O Nature! O Shakespeare! which +of ye drew from the other?" + +Isabella is distinguished from Portia, and strongly individualized by a +certain moral grandeur, a saintly grace, something of vestal dignity and +purity, which render her less attractive and more imposing; she is +"severe in youthful beauty," and inspires a reverence which would have +placed her beyond the daring of one unholy wish or thought, except in +such a man as Angelo-- + + O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, + With saints dost bait thy hook! + +This impression of her character is conveyed from the very first, when +Lucio, the libertine jester, whose coarse audacious wit checks at every +feather, thus expresses his respect for her,-- + + I would not--though 'tis my familiar sin + With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest + Tongue far from heart--play with all virgins so. + I hold you as a thing enskyed, and sainted; + By your renouncement an immortal spirit, + And to be talked with in sincerity, + As with a saint. + +A strong distinction between Isabella and Portia is produced by the +circumstances in which they are respectively placed. Portia is a +high-born heiress, "Lord of a fair mansion, master of her servants, +queen o'er herself;" easy and decided, as one born to command, and used +to it. Isabella has also the innate dignity which renders her "queen +o'er herself," but she has lived far from the world and its pomps and +pleasures; she is one of a consecrated sisterhood--a novice of St. +Clare; the power to command obedience and to confer happiness are to her +unknown. Portia is a splendid creature, radiant with confidence, hope, +and joy. She is like the orange-tree, hung at once with golden fruit and +luxuriant flowers, which has expanded into bloom and fragrance beneath +favoring skies, and has been nursed into beauty by the sunshine and the +dews of heaven. Isabella is like a stately and graceful cedar, towering +on some alpine cliff, unbowed and unscathed amid the storm. She gives +us the impression of one who has passed under the ennobling discipline +of suffering and self-denial: a melancholy charm tempers the natural +vigor of her mind: her spirit seems to stand upon an eminence, and look +down upon the world as if already enskyed and sainted; and yet when +brought in contact with that world which she inwardly despises, she +shrinks back with all the timidity natural to her cloistral education. + +This union of natural grace and grandeur with the habits and sentiments +of a recluse,--of austerity of life with gentleness of manner,--of +inflexible moral principle with humility and even bashfulness of +deportment, is delineated with the most beautiful and wonderful +consistency. Thus when her brother sends to her, to entreat her +mediation, her first feeling is fear, and a distrust in her own powers: + + ... Alas! what poor ability's in me + To do him good? + + LUCIO. + + Essay the power you have. + + ISABELLA. + + My power, alas! I doubt. + +In the first scene with Angelo she seems divided between her love for +her brother and her sense of his fault; between her self-respect and her +maidenly bashfulness. She begins with a kind of hesitation "at war +'twixt will and will not:" and when Angelo quotes the law, and insists +on the justice of his sentence, and the responsibility of his station, +her native sense of moral rectitude and severe principles takes the +lead, and she shrinks back:-- + + O just, but severe law! + I _had_ a brother then--Heaven keep your honor! + [_Retiring._ + +Excited and encouraged by Lucio, and supported by her own natural +spirit, she returns to the charge,--she gains energy and self-possession +as she proceeds, grows more earnest and passionate from the difficulty +she encounters, and displays that eloquence and power of reasoning for +which we had been already prepared by Claudio's first allusion to her:-- + + ... In her youth + There is a prone and speechless dialect, + Such as moves men; besides, she hath prosperous art, + When she will play with reason and discourse, + And well she can persuade. + +It is a curious coincidence that Isabella, exhorting Angelo to mercy, +avails herself of precisely the same arguments, and insists on the +self-same topics which Portia addresses to Shylock in her celebrated +speech; but how beautifully and how truly is the distinction marked! how +like, and yet how unlike! Portia's eulogy on mercy is a piece of +heavenly rhetoric; it falls on the ear with a solemn measured harmony; +it is the voice of a descended angel addressing an inferior nature: if +not premeditated, it is at least part of a preconcerted scheme; while +Isabella's pleadings are poured from the abundance of her heart in +broken sentences, and with the artless vehemence of one who feels that +life and death hang upon her appeal. This will be best understood by +placing the corresponding passages in immediate comparison with each +other. + + PORTIA. + + The quality of mercy is not strain'd, + It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, + Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; + It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: + 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes + The throned monarch better than his crown; + His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, + The attribute to awe and majesty, + Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings. + But mercy is above this sceptred sway-- + It is enthron'd in the hearts of kings. + + ISABELLA. + + Well, believe this, + No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, + Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, + The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe. + Become them with one half so good a grace + As mercy does. + + PORTIA. + + Consider this-- + That in the course of justice, none of us + Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy; + And that same prayer doth teach us all to render + The deeds of mercy. + + ISABELLA. + + ... Alas! alas! + Why all the souls that were, were forfeit once; + And He, that might the 'vantage best have took, + Found out the remedy. How would you be, + If He, which is the top of judgment, should + But judge you as you are? O, think on that, + And mercy then will breathe within your lips, + Like man new made! + +The beautiful things which Isabella is made to utter, have, like the +sayings of Portia, become proverbial; but in spirit and character they +are as distinct as are the two women. In all that Portia says, we +confess the power of a rich poetical imagination, blended with a quick +practical spirit of observation, familiar with the surfaces of things; +while there is a profound yet simple morality, a depth of religious +feeling, a touch of melancholy, in Isabella's sentiments, and something +earnest and authoritative in the manner and expression, as though they +had grown up in her mind from long and deep meditation in the silence +and solitude of her convent cell:-- + + O it is excellent + To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous + To use it like a giant. + + Could great men thunder, + As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet: + For every pelting, petty officer + Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder + Merciful Heaven! + Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt + Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak + Than the soft myrtle. O but man, proud man! + Drest in a little brief authority, + Most ignorant of what he's most assured, + His glassy essence, like an angry ape, + Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, + As make the angels weep. + + Great men may jest with saints, 'tis wit in them; + But in the less, foul profanation. + That in the captain's but a choleric word, + Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. + + Authority, although it err like others, + Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself + That skins the vice o' the top. Go to you, bosom; + Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know + That's like my brother's fault: if it confess + A natural guiltiness such as his is, + Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue + Against my brother's life. + + Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, + But graciously to know I am no better. + + The sense of death is most in apprehension; + And the poor beetle that we tread upon, + In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great + As when a giant dies. + + 'Tis not impossible + But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground, + May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute + As Angelo; even so may Angelo, + In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, + Be an arch villain. + +Her fine powers of reasoning, and that natural uprightness and purity +which no sophistry can warp, and no allurement betray, are farther +displayed in the second scene with Angelo. + + ANGELO. + + What would you do? + + ISABELLA. + + As much for my poor brother as myself; + That is, were I under the terms of death, + The impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, + And strip myself to death as to a bed + That, longing, I have been sick for, ere I'd yield + My body up to shame. + + ANGELO. + + Then must your brother die. + + ISABELLA. + + And 'twere the cheaper way; + Better it were a brother died at once, + Than that a sister, by redeeming him, + Should die forever. + + ANGELO. + + Were you not then cruel as the sentence, + That you have slander'd so! + + ISABELLA. + + Ignominy in ransom, and free pardon, + Are of two houses: lawful mercy is + Nothing akin to foul redemption. + + ANGELO. + + You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant; + And rather proved the sliding of your brother + A merriment than a vice. + + ISABELLA. + + O pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, + To have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean: + I something do excuse the thing I hate, + For his advantage that I dearly love. + +Towards the conclusion of the play we have another instance of that +rigid sense of justice, which is a prominent part of Isabella's +character, and almost silences her earnest intercession for her brother, +when his fault is placed between her plea and her conscience. The Duke +condemns the villain Angelo to death, and his wife Mariana entreats +Isabella to plead for him. + + Sweet Isabel, take my part, + Lend me your knees, and all my life to come + I'll lend you all my life to do you service. + +Isabella remains silent, and Mariana reiterates her prayer. + + MARIANA. + + Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me, + Hold up your hands, say nothing, I'll speak all! + O Isabel! will you not lend a knee? + +Isabella, thus urged, breaks silence and appeals to the Duke, not with +supplication, or persuasion, but with grave argument, and a kind of +dignified humility and conscious power, which are finely characteristic +of the individual woman. + + Most bounteous Sir, + Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, + As if my brother liv'd; I partly think + A due sincerity govern'd his deeds + Till he did look on me; since it is so + Let him not die. My brother had but justice, + In that he did the thing for which he died. + For Angelo, + His art did not o'ertake his bad intent, + That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects. + Intents, but merely thoughts. + +In this instance, as in the one before mentioned, Isabella's +conscientiousness is overcome by the only sentiment which ought to +temper justice into mercy, the power of affection and sympathy. + +Isabella's confession of the general frailty of her sex, has a peculiar +softness, beauty, and propriety. She admits the imputation with all the +sympathy of woman for woman; yet with all the dignity of one who felt +her own superiority to the weakness she acknowledges. + + ANGELO. + + Nay, women are frail too. + + ISABELLA. + + Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; + Which are as easy broke as they make forms. + Women! help heaven! men their creation mar + In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail, + For we are soft as our complexions are, + And credulous to false prints. + +Nor should we fail to remark the deeper interest which is thrown round +Isabella, by one part of her character, which is betrayed rather than +exhibited in the progress of the action; and for which we are not at +first prepared, though it is so perfectly natural. It is the strong +under-current of passion and enthusiasm flowing beneath this calm and +saintly self-possession; it is the capacity for high feeling and +generous and strong indignation, veiled beneath the sweet austere +composure of the religious recluse, which, by the very force of +contrast, powerfully impress the imagination. As we see in real life +that where, from some external or habitual cause, a strong control is +exercised over naturally quick feelings and an impetuous temper, they +display themselves with a proportionate vehemence when that restraint is +removed; so the very violence with which her passions burst forth, when +opposed or under the influence of strong excitement, is admirably +characteristic. + +Thus in her exclamation, when she first allows herself to perceive +Angelo's vile design-- + + ISABELLA. + + Ha! little honor to be much believed, + And most pernicious purpose;--seeming!--seeming + I will proclaim thee, Angelo: look for it! + Sign me a present pardon for my brother, + Or with an outstretched throat I'll tell the world + Aloud, what man thou art! + +And again, where she finds that the "outward tainted deputy," has +deceived her-- + + O I will to him, and pluck out his eyes! + Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! + Injurious world! most damned Angelo! + +She places at first a strong and high-souled confidence in her brother's +fortitude and magnanimity, judging him by her own lofty spirit: + + I'll to my brother; + Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood, + Yet hath he in him such a mind of honor, + That had he twenty heads to tender down, + On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up + Before his sister should her body stoop + To such abhorr'd pollution. + +But when her trust in his honor is deceived by his momentary weakness, +her scorn has a bitterness, and her indignation a force of expression +almost fearful; and both are carried to an extreme, which is perfectly +in character: + + O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! + Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? + Is't not a kind of incest to take life + From thine own sister's shame? What should I think? + Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair! + For such a warped slip of wilderness + Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance; + Die! perish! might but my bending down, + Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed. + I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death. + No word to save thee. + +The whole of this scene with Claudio is inexpressibly grand in the +poetry and the sentiment; and the entire play abounds in those passages +and phrases which must have become trite from familiar and constant use +and abuse, if their wisdom and unequalled beauty did not invest them +with an immortal freshness and vigor, and a perpetual charm. + +The story of Measure for Measure is a tradition of great antiquity, of +which there are several versions, narrative and dramatic. A contemptible +tragedy, the _Promos and Cassandra_ of George Whetstone, is supposed, +from various coincidences, to have furnished Shakspeare with the +groundwork of the play; but the character of Isabella is, in conception +and execution, all his own. The commentators have collected with +infinite industry all the sources of the plot; but to the grand creation +of Isabella, they award either silence or worse than silence. Johnson +and the rest of the black-letter crew, pass over her without a word. One +critic, a lady-critic too, whose name I will be so merciful as to +suppress, treats Isabella as a coarse vixen. Hazlitt, with that strange +perversion of sentiment and want of taste which sometimes mingle with +his piercing and powerful intellect, dismisses Isabella with a slight +remark, that "we are not greatly enamoured of her rigid chastity, nor +can feel much confidence in the virtue that is sublimely good at +another's expense." What shall we answer to such criticism? Upon what +ground can we read the play from beginning to end, and doubt the +angel-purity of Isabella, or contemplate her possible lapse from +virtue? Such gratuitous mistrust is here a sin against the light of +heaven. + + Having waste ground enough, + Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary, + And pitch our evils there? + +Professor Richardson is more just, and truly sums up her character as +"amiable, pious, sensible, resolute, determined, and eloquent:" but his +remarks are rather superficial. + +Schlegel's observations are also brief and general, and in no way +distinguish Isabella from many other characters; neither did his plan +allow him to be more minute. Of the play altogether, he observes very +beautifully, "that the title Measure for Measure is in reality a +misnomer, the sense of the whole being properly the triumph of mercy +over strict justice:" but it is also true that there is "an original sin +in the nature of the subject, which prevents us from taking a cordial +interest in it."[12] Of all the characters, Isabella alone has our +sympathy. But though she triumphs in the conclusion, her triumph is not +produced in a pleasing manner. There are too many disguises and tricks, +too many "by-paths and indirect crooked ways," to conduct us to the +natural and foreseen catastrophe, which the Duke's presence throughout +renders inevitable. This Duke seems to have a predilection for bringing +about justice by a most unjustifiable succession of falsehoods and +counterplots. He really deserves Lucio's satirical designation, who +somewhere styles him "The Fantastical Duke of Dark Corners." But +Isabella is ever consistent in her pure and upright simplicity, and in +the midst of this simulation, expresses a characteristic disapprobation +of the part she is made to play, + + To speak so indirectly I am loth: + I would say the truth.[13] + +She yields to the supposed Friar with a kind of forced docility, because +her situation as a religious novice, and his station, habit, and +authority, as her spiritual director, demand this sacrifice. In the end +we are made to feel that her transition from the convent to the throne +has but placed this noble creature in her natural sphere: for though +Isabella, as Duchess of Vienna, could not more command our highest +reverence than Isabella, the novice of Saint Clare, yet a wider range of +usefulness and benevolence, of trial and action, was better suited to +the large capacity, the ardent affections, the energetic intellect, and +firm principle of such a woman as Isabella, than the walls of a +cloister. The philosophical Duke observes in the very first scene-- + + Spirits are not finely touched, + But to fine issues: nor nature never lends + The smallest scruple of her excellence, + But like a thrifty goddess she determines, + Herself the glory of a creditor, + Both thanks and use.[14] + +This profound and beautiful sentiment is illustrated in the character +and destiny of Isabella. She says, of herself, that "she has spirit to +act whatever her heart approves;" and what her heart approves we know. + +In the convent, (which may stand here poetically for any narrow and +obscure situation in which such a woman might be placed,) Isabella would +not have been unhappy, but happiness would have been the result of an +effort, or of the concentration of her great mental powers to some +particular purpose; as St. Theresa's intellect, enthusiasm, tenderness, +restless activity, and burning eloquence, governed by one overpowering +sentiment of devotion, rendered her the most extraordinary of saints. +Isabella, like St. Theresa, complains that the rules of her order are +not sufficiently severe, and from the same cause,--that from the +consciousness of strong intellectual and imaginative power, and of +overflowing sensibility, she desires a more "strict restraint," or, from +the continual, involuntary struggle against the trammels imposed, feels +its necessity. + + ISABELLA. + + And have you nuns no further privileges? + + FRANCISCA. + + Are not these large enough? + + ISABELLA. + + Yes, truly; I speak, not as desiring more, + But rather wishing a more strict restraint + Upon the sisterhood! + +Such women as Desdemona and Ophelia would have passed their lives in the +seclusion of a nunnery, without wishing, like Isabella, for stricter +bonds, or planning, like St. Theresa, the reformation of their order, +simply, because any restraint would have been efficient, as far as +_they_ were concerned. Isabella, "dedicate to nothing temporal," might +have found resignation through self government, or have become a +religious enthusiast: while "place and greatness" would have appeared to +her strong and upright mind, only a more extended field of action, a +trust and a trial. The mere trappings of power and state, the gemmed +coronal, the ermined robe, she would have regarded as the outward +emblems of her earthly profession; and would have worn them with as much +simplicity as her novice's hood and scapular; still, under whatever +guise she might tread this thorny world--the same "angel of light." + + +BEATRICE. + +Shakspeare has exhibited in Beatrice a spirited and faithful portrait of +the fine lady of his own time. The deportment, language, manners, and +allusions, are those of a particular class in a particular age; but the +individual and dramatic character which forms the groundwork, is +strongly discriminated; and being taken from general nature, belongs to +every age. In Beatrice, high intellect and high animal spirits meet, and +excite each other like fire and air. In her wit (which is brilliant +without being imaginative) there is a touch of insolence, not unfrequent +in women when the wit predominates over reflection and imagination. In +her temper, too, there is a slight infusion of the termagant; and her +satirical humor plays with such an unrespective levity over all subjects +alike, that it required a profound knowledge of women to bring such a +character within the pale of our sympathy. But Beatrice, though wilful, +is not wayward; she is volatile, not unfeeling. She has not only an +exuberance of wit and gayety, but of heart, and soul, and energy of +spirit; and is no more like the fine ladies of modern comedy,--whose wit +consists in a temporary allusion, or a play upon words, and whose +petulance is displayed in a toss of the head, a flirt of the fan, or a +flourish of the pocket handkerchief,--than one of our modern dandies is +like Sir Philip Sydney. + +In Beatrice, Shakspeare has contrived that the poetry of the character +shall not only soften, but heighten its comic effect. We are not only +inclined to forgive Beatrice all her scornful airs, all her biting +jests, all her assumption of superiority; but they amuse and delight us +the more, when we find her, with all the headlong simplicity of a child, +falling at once into the snare laid for her affections; when we see +_her_, who thought a man of God's making not good enough for her, who +disdained to be o'ermastered by "a piece of valiant dust," stooping like +the rest of her sex, vailing her proud spirit, and taming her wild heart +to the loving hand of him whom she had scorned, flouted, and misused, +"past the endurance of a block." And we are yet more completely won by +her generous enthusiastic attachment to her cousin. When the father of +Hero believes the tale of her guilt; when Claudio, her lover, without +remorse or a lingering doubt, consigns her to shame; when the Friar +remains silent, and the generous Benedick himself knows not what to say, +Beatrice, confident in her affections, and guided only by the impulses +of her own feminine heart, sees through the inconsistency, the +impossibility of the charge, and exclaims, without a moment's +hesitation, + + O, on my soul, my cousin is belied! + +Schlegel, in his remarks on the play of "Much Ado about nothing," has +given us an amusing instance of that sense of reality with which we are +impressed by Shakspeare's characters. He says of Benedick and Beatrice, +as if he had known them personally, that the exclusive direction of +their pointed raillery against each other "is a proof of a growing +inclination." This is not unlikely; and the same inference would lead us +to suppose that this mutual inclination had commenced before the opening +of the play. The very first words uttered by Beatrice are an inquiry +after Benedick, though expressed with her usual arch impertinence:-- + + I pray you, is Signior Montanto returned from the wars, or + no? + + I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? + But how many hath he killed? for indeed I promised to eat + all of his killing. + +And in the unprovoked hostility with which she falls upon him in his +absence, in the pertinacity and bitterness of her satire, there is +certainly great argument that he occupies much more of her thoughts than +she would have been willing to confess, even to herself. In the same +manner Benedick betrays a lurking partiality for his fascinating enemy; +he shows that he has looked upon her with no careless eye, when he says, + + There's her cousin, (meaning Beatrice,) an' she were not + possessed with a fury, excels her as much in beauty as the + first of May does the last of December. + +Infinite skill, as well as humor, is shown in making this pair of airy +beings the exact counterpart of each other; but of the two portraits, +that of Benedick is by far the most pleasing, because the independence +and gay indifference of temper, the laughing defiance of love and +marriage, the satirical freedom of expression, common to both, are more +becoming to the masculine than to the feminine character. Any woman +might love such a cavalier as Benedick, and be proud of his affection; +his valor, his wit, and his gayety sit so gracefully upon him! and his +light scoffs against the power of love are but just sufficient to render +more piquant the conquest of this "heretic in despite of beauty." But a +man might well be pardoned who should shrink from encountering such a +spirit as that of Beatrice, unless, indeed, he had "served an +apprenticeship to the taming school." The wit of Beatrice is less +good-humored than that of Benedick; or, from the difference of sex, +appears so. It is observable that the power is throughout on her side, +and the sympathy and interest on his: which, by reversing the usual +order of things, seems to excite us _against the grain_, if I may use +such an expression. In all their encounters she constantly gets the +better of him, and the gentleman's wits go off halting, if he is not +himself fairly _hors de combat_. Beatrice, woman-like, generally has the +first word, and will have the last. Thus, when they first meet, she +begins by provoking the merry warfare:-- + + I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick; + nobody marks you. + + BENEDICK. + + What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? + + BEATRICE. + + Is it possible Disdain should die, while she hath such meet + food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must + convert to disdain, if you come in her presence. + +It is clear that she cannot for a moment endure his neglect, and he can +as little tolerate her scorn. Nothing that Benedick addresses to +Beatrice personally can equal the malicious force of some of her +attacks upon him: he is either restrained by a feeling of natural +gallantry, little as she deserves the consideration due to her sex, (for +a female satirist ever places herself beyond the pale of such +forbearance,) or he is subdued by her superior volubility. He revenges +himself, however, in her absence: he abuses her with such a variety of +comic invective, and pours forth his pent-up wrath with such a ludicrous +extravagance and exaggeration, that he betrays at once how deep is his +mortification, and how unreal his enmity. + +In the midst of all this tilting and sparring of their nimble and fiery +wits, we find them infinitely anxious for the good opinion of each +other, and secretly impatient of each other's scorn: but Beatrice is the +most truly indifferent of the two; the most assured of herself. The +comic effect produced by their mutual attachment, which, however natural +and expected, comes upon us with all the force of a surprise, cannot be +surpassed: and how exquisitely characteristic the mutual avowal! + + BENEDICK. + + By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. + + BEATRICE. + + Do not swear by it, and eat it. + + BENEDICK. + + I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat + it, that says, I love not you. + + BEATRICE. + + Will you not eat your word? + + BENEDICK. + + With no sauce that can be devised to it: I protest, I love + thee. + + BEATRICE. + + Why, then, God forgive me! + + BENEDICK. + + What offence, sweet Beatrice? + + BEATRICE. + + You stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest, I + loved you. + + BENEDICK. + + And do it with all thy heart. + + BEATRICE. + + I love you with so much of my heart, that there is none left + to protest. + +But here again the dominion rests with Beatrice, and she appears in a +less amiable light than her lover. Benedick surrenders his whole heart +to her and to his new passion. The revulsion of feeling even causes it +to overflow in an excess of fondness; but with Beatrice temper has still +the mastery. The affection of Benedick induces him to challenge his +intimate friend for her sake, but the affection of Beatrice does not +prevent her from risking the life of her lover. + +The character of Hero is well contrasted with that of Beatrice, and +their mutual attachment is very beautiful and natural. When they are +both on the scene together, Hero has but little to say for herself: +Beatrice asserts the rule of a master spirit, eclipses her by her mental +superiority, abashes her by her raillery, dictates to her, answers for +her, and would fain inspire her gentle-hearted cousin with some of her +own assurance. + + Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make a curtsey, and + say, "Father, as it please you;" but yet, for all that, + cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another + curtsey, and, "Father, as it please me." + +But Shakspeare knew well how to make one character subordinate to +another, without sacrificing the slightest portion of its effect; and +Hero, added to her grace and softness, and all the interest which +attaches to her as the sentimental heroine of the play, possesses an +intellectual beauty of her own. When she has Beatrice at an advantage, +she repays her with interest, in the severe, but most animated and +elegant picture she draws of her cousin's imperious character and +unbridled levity of tongue. The portrait is a little overcharged, +because administered as a corrective, and intended to be overheard. + + But nature never fram'd a woman's heart + Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice: + Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, + Misprising what they look on; and her wit + Values itself so highly, that to her + All matter else seems weak; she cannot love, + Nor take no shape nor project of affection, + She is so self-endeared. + + URSULA. + + Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. + + HERO. + + No: not to be so odd, and from all fashions, + As Beatrice is cannot be commendable: + But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, + She'd mock me into air: O she would laugh me + Out of myself, press me to death with wit. + Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, + Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: + It were a better death than die with mocks, + Which is as bad as die with tickling. + +Beatrice never appears to greater advantage than in her soliloquy after +leaving her concealment "in the pleached bower where honeysuckles, +ripened by the sun, forbid the sun to enter;" she exclaims, after +listening to this tirade against herself,-- + + What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? + Stand I condemned for pride and scorn so much? + +The sense of wounded vanity is lost in bitter feelings, and she is +infinitely more struck by what is said in praise of Benedick, and the +history of his supposed love for her than by the dispraise of herself. +The immediate success of the trick is a most natural consequence of the +self-assurance and magnanimity of her character; she is so accustomed to +assert dominion over the spirits of others, that she cannot suspect the +possibility of a plot laid against herself. + +A haughty, excitable, and violent temper is another of the +characteristics of Beatrice; but there is more of impulse than of +passion in her vehemence. In the marriage scene where she has beheld her +gentle-spirited cousin,--whom she loves the more for those very +qualities which are most unlike her own,--slandered, deserted, and +devoted to public shame, her indignation, and the eagerness with which +she hungers and thirsts after revenge, are, like the rest of her +character, open, ardent, impetuous, but not deep or implacable. When she +bursts into that outrageous speech-- + + Is he not approved in the height a villain that hath + slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? O that I were a + man! What! bear her in hand until they come to take hands; + and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, + unmitigated rancor--O God, that I were a man! I would eat + his heart in the market-place! + +And when she commands her lover, as the first proof of his affection, +"to kill Claudio," the very consciousness of the exaggeration,--of the +contrast between the real good-nature of Beatrice and the fierce tenor +of her language, keeps alive the comic effect, mingling the ludicrous +with the serious. It is remarkable that, notwithstanding the point and +vivacity of the dialogue, few of the speeches of Beatrice are capable of +a general application, or engrave themselves distinctly on the memory; +they contain more mirth than matter; and though wit be the predominant +feature in the dramatic portrait, Beatrice more charms and dazzles us by +what she is than by what she _says_. It is not merely her sparkling +repartees and saucy jests, it is the soul of wit, and the spirit of +gayety in forming the whole character,--looking out from her brilliant +eyes, and laughing on her full lips that pout with scorn,--which we have +before us, moving and full of life. On the whole, we dismiss Benedick +and Beatrice to their matrimonial bonds rather with a sense of amusement +than a feeling of congratulation or sympathy; rather with an +acknowledgment that they are well-matched, and worthy of each other than +with any well-founded expectation of their domestic tranquillity. If, as +Benedick asserts, they are both "too wise to woo peaceably," it may be +added that both are too wise, too witty, and too wilful to live +peaceably together. We have some misgivings about Beatrice--some +apprehensions that poor Benedick will not escape the "predestinated +scratched face," which he had foretold to him who should win and wear +this quick-witted and pleasant-spirited lady; yet when we recollect that +to the wit and imperious temper of Beatrice is united a magnanimity of +spirit which would naturally place her far above all selfishness, and +all paltry struggles for power--when we perceive, in the midst of her +sarcastic levity and volubility of tongue, so much of generous +affection, and such a high sense of female virtue and honor, we are +inclined to hope the best. We think it possible that though the +gentleman may now and then swear, and the lady scold, the native +good-humor of the one, the really fine understanding of the other, and +the value they so evidently attach to each other's esteem, will ensure +them a tolerable portion of domestic felicity, and in this hope we leave +them. + + +ROSALIND. + +I come now to Rosalind, whom I should have ranked before Beatrice, +inasmuch as the greater degree of her sex's softness and sensibility, +united with equal wit and intellect, give her the superiority as a +woman; but that, as a dramatic character, she is inferior in force. The +portrait is one of infinitely more delicacy and variety, but of less +strength and depth. It is easy to seize on the prominent features in the +mind of Beatrice, but extremely difficult to catch and fix the more +fanciful graces of Rosalind. She is like a compound of essences, so +volatile in their nature, and so exquisitely blended, that on any +attempt to analyze them, they seem to escape us. To what else shall we +compare her, all-enchanting as she is?--to the silvery summer clouds +which, even while we gaze on them, shift their hues and forms dissolving +into air, and light, and rainbow showers?--to the May-morning, flush +with opening blossoms and roseate dews, and "charm of earliest +birds?"--to some wild and beautiful melody, such as some shepherd boy +might "pipe to Amarillis in the shade?"--to a mountain streamlet, now +smooth as a mirror in which the skies may glass themselves, and anon +leaping and sparkling in the sunshine--or rather to the very sunshine +itself? for so her genial spirit touches into life and beauty whatever +it shines on! + +But this impression, though produced by the complete development of the +character, and in the end possessing the whole fancy, is not immediate. +The first introduction of Rosalind is less striking than interesting; we +see her a dependant, almost a captive, in the house of her usurping +uncle; her genial spirits are subdued by her situation, and the +remembrance of her banished father her playfulness is under a temporary +eclipse. + + I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry! + +_is_ an adjuration which Rosalind needed not when once at liberty, and +sporting "under the greenwood tree." The sensibility and even +pensiveness of her demeanor in the first instance, render her archness +and gayety afterwards, more graceful and more fascinating. + +Though Rosalind is a princess, she is a princess of Arcady; and +notwithstanding the charming effect produced by her first scenes, we +scarcely ever think of her with a reference to them, or associate her +with a court, and the artificial appendages of her rank. She was not +made to "lord it o'er a fair mansion," and take state upon her like the +all-accomplished Portia; but to breathe the free air of heaven, and +frolic among green leaves. She was not made to stand the siege of daring +profligacy, and oppose high action and high passion to the assaults of +adverse fortune, like Isabel; but to "fleet the time carelessly as they +did i' the golden age." She was not made to bandy wit with lords, and +tread courtly measures with plumed and warlike cavaliers, like Beatrice; +but to dance on the green sward, and "murmur among living brooks a music +sweeter than their own." + +Though sprightliness is the distinguishing characteristic of Rosalind, +as of Beatrice, yet we find her much more nearly allied to Portia in +temper and intellect. The tone of her mind is, like Portia's, genial and +buoyant: she has something, too, of her softness and sentiment; there is +the same confiding abandonment of self in her affections; but the +characters are otherwise as distinct as the situations are dissimilar. +The age, the manners, the circumstance in which Shakspeare has placed +his Portia, are not beyond the bounds of probability; nay, have a +certain reality and locality. We fancy her a contemporary of the +Raffaelles and the Ariostos; the sea-wedded Venice, its merchants and +Magnificos,--the Rialto, and the long canals,--rise up before us when we +think of her. But Rosalind is surrounded with the purely ideal and +imaginative; the reality is in the characters and in the sentiments, not +in the circumstances or situation. Portia is dignified, splendid, and +romantic; Rosalind is playful, pastoral, and picturesque: both are in +the highest degree poetical, but the one is epic and the other lyric. + +Every thing about Rosalind breathes of "youth and youth's sweet prime." +She is fresh as the morning, sweet as the dew-awakened blossoms, and +light as the breeze that plays among them. She is as witty, as voluble, +as sprightly as Beatrice; but in a style altogether distinct. In both, +the wit is equally unconscious; but in Beatrice it plays about us like +the lightning, dazzling but also alarming; while the wit of Rosalind +bubbles up and sparkles like the living fountain, refreshing all around. +Her volubility is like the bird's song; it is the outpouring of a heart +filled to overflowing with life, love, and joy, and all sweet and +affectionate impulses. She has as much tenderness as mirth, and in her +most petulant raillery there is a touch of softness--"By this hand, it +will not hurt a fly!" As her vivacity never lessens our impression of +her sensibility, so she wears her masculine attire without the slightest +impugnment of her delicacy. Shakspeare did not make the modesty of his +women depend on their dress, as we shall see further when we come to +Viola and Imogen. Rosalind has in truth "no doublet and hose in her +disposition." How her heart seems to throb and flutter under her page's +vest! What depth of love in her passion for Orlando! whether disguised +beneath a saucy playfulness, or breaking forth with a fond impatience, +or half betrayed in that beautiful scene where she faints at the sight +of his 'kerchief stained with his blood! Here her recovery of her +self-possession--her fears lest she should have revealed her sex--her +presence of mind, and quick-witted excuse-- + + I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited. + +and the characteristic playfulness which seems to return so naturally +with her recovered senses,--are all as amusing as consistent. Then how +beautifully is the dialogue managed between herself and Orlando! how +well she assumes the airs of a saucy page, without throwing off her +feminine sweetness! How her wit flutters free as air over every subject! +With what a careless grace, yet with what exquisite propriety! + + For innocence hath a privilege in her + To dignify arch jests and laughing eyes. + +And if the freedom of some of the expressions used by Rosalind or +Beatrice be objected to, let it be remembered that this was not the +fault of Shakspeare or the women, but generally of the age. Portia, +Beatrice, Rosalind, and the rest lived in times when more importance was +attached to things than to words; now we think more of words than of +things; and happy are we in these later days of super-refinement, if we +are to be saved by our verbal morality. But this is meddling with the +province of the melancholy Jaques, and our argument is Rosalind. + +The impression left upon our hearts and minds by the character of +Rosalind--by the mixture of playfulness, sensibility, and what the +French (and we for lack of a better expression) call _naivete_--is like +a delicious strain of music. There is a depth of delight, and a subtlety +of words to express that delight, which is enchanting. Yet when we call +to mind particular speeches and passages, we find that they have a +relative beauty and propriety, which renders it difficult to separate +them from the context without injuring their effect She says some of the +most charming things in the world, and some of the most humorous: but we +apply them as phrases rather than as maxims, and remember them rather +for their pointed felicity of expression and fanciful application, than +for their general truth and depth of meaning. I will give a few +instances:-- + + I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' time--that I was + an Irish rat--which I can hardly remember.[15] + + Good, my complexion! Dost thou think, though I am + caparisoned like a man, that I have a doublet and hose in my + disposition? + + We dwell here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon + a petticoat. + + Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well + a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why + they are not so punished and cured is, that the lunacy is so + ordinary that the whippers are in love too. + + A traveller! By my faith you have great reason to be sad. I + fear you have sold your own lands to see other men's; then + to have seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes + and poor hands. + + Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. Look you lisp, and wear + strange suits; disable all the benefits of your own country; + be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for + making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think + you have swam in a gondola. + + Break an hour's promise in love! He that will divide a + minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the + thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may + be said of him that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' the shoulder, + but I warrant him heart-whole. + + Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten + them--but not for love. + + I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and + to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, + as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to + petticoat. + +Rosalind has not the impressive eloquence of Portia, nor the sweet +wisdom of Isabella. Her longest speeches are not her best; nor is her +taunting address to Phebe, beautiful and celebrated as it is, equal to +Phebe's own description of her. The latter, indeed, is more in +earnest.[16] + +Celia is more quiet and retired: but she rather yields to Rosalind, than +is eclipsed by her. She is as full of sweetness, kindness, and +intelligence, quite as susceptible, and almost as witty, though she +makes less display of wit. She is described as less fair and less +gifted; yet the attempt to excite in her mind a jealousy of her lovelier +friend, by placing them in comparison-- + + Thou art a fool; she robs thee of thy name; + And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous, + When she is gone-- + +fails to awaken in the generous heart of Celia any other feeling than an +increased tenderness and sympathy for her cousin. To Celia, Shakspeare +has given some of the most striking and animated parts of the dialogue; +and in particular, that exquisite description of the friendship between +her and Rosalind-- + + If she be a traitor, + Why, so am I; we have still slept together, + Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together, + And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, + Still we were coupled and inseparable. + +The feeling of interest and admiration thus excited for Celia at the +first, follows her through the whole play. We listen to her as to one +who has made herself worthy of our love; and her silence expresses more +than eloquence. + +Phebe is quite an Arcadian coquette; she is a piece of pastoral poetry. +Audrey is only rustic. A very amusing effect is produced by the contrast +between the frank and free bearing of the two princesses in disguise, +and the scornful airs of the real Shepherdess. In the speeches of Phebe, +and in the dialogue between her and Sylvius, Shakspeare has anticipated +all the beauties of the Italian pastoral, and surpassed Tasso and +Guarini. We find two among the most poetical passages of the play +appropriated to Phebe; the taunting speech to Sylvius, and the +description of Rosalind in her page's costume;--which last is finer than +the portrait of Bathyllus in Anacreon. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[5] Artemisia Gentileschi, an Italian artist of the seventeenth century, +painted one or two pictures, considered admirable as works of art, of +which the subjects are the most vicious and barbarous conceivable. I +remember one of these in the gallery of Florence, which I looked at +once, but once, and wished then, as I do now, for the privilege of +burning it to ashes. + +[6] Lucy Ashton, in the Bride of Lammermoor, may be placed next to +Desdemona; Diana Vernon is (comparatively) a failure as every woman will +allow; while the masculine lady Geraldine in Miss Edgeworth's tale of +Ennui, and the intellectual Corinne are consistent, essential women; the +distinction is more easily felt than analyzed. + +[7] Hazlitt's Essays, vol. ii. p. 167. + +[8] I am informed that the original German word is _geistreiche_ +literally, _rich in soul or spirit_, a just and beautiful epithet. 2d. +_Edit._ + +[9] In the "Mercatante di Venezia" of Ser. Giovanni, we have the whole +story of Antonio and Bassanio, and part of the story but not the +character of Portia. The incident of the caskets is from the Gesta +Romanorum. + +[10] In that age, delicate points of law were not determined by the +ordinary judges of the provinces, but by doctors of law, who were called +from Bologna, Padua, and other places celebrated for their legal +colleges. + +[11] Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Scene 2 + +[12] Characters of Shakespeare's Plays. + +[13] Act iv. Scene 5. + +[14] _Use_, i. e. usury, interest. + +[15] In Shakspeare's time, there were people In Ireland, (there may be +so still, for aught I know,) who undertook to charm rats to death, by +chanting certain verses which acted as a spell. "Rhyme them to death, as +they do rats in Ireland," is a line in one of Ben Jonson's comedies; +this will explain Rosalind's humorous allusion. + +[16] Rousseau could describe such a character as Rosalind, but failed to +represent it consistently. "N'est-ce pas de ton coeur que viennent les +graces de ton enjouement? Tes railleries sont des signes d'interet plus +touchants que les compliments d'un autre. Tu caresses quand tu folatres. +Tu ris, mais ton rire penetre l'ame; tu ris, mais tu fais pleurer de +tendresse et je te vois presque toujours serieuse avec les indifferents" +_Heloise._ + + + + +CHARACTERS OF PASSION AND IMAGINATION. + + +JULIET. + +O Love! thou teacher'--O Grief! thou tamer--and Time, thou healer of +human hearts!--bring hither all your deep and serious revelations!--And +ye too, rich fancies of unbruised, unbowed youth--ye visions of long +perished hopes--shadows of unborn joys--gay colorings of the dawn of +existence! whatever memory hath treasured up of bright and beautiful in +nature or in art; all soft and delicate images--all lovely +forms--divinest voices and entrancing melodies--gleams of sunnier skies +and fairer climes,--Italian moonlights and airs that "breathe of the +sweet south,"--now, if it be possible, revive to my imagination--live +once more to my heart! Come, thronging around me, all inspirations that +wait on passion, on power, on beauty; give me to tread, not bold, and +yet unblamed, within the inmost sanctuary of Shakspeare's genius, in +Juliet's moonlight bower, and Miranda's enchanted isle! + + * * * * * + +It is not without emotion, that I attempt to touch on the character of +Juliet. Such beautiful things have already been said of her--only to be +exceeded in beauty by the subject that inspired them!--it is impossible +to say any thing better; but it is possible to say something more. Such +in fact is the simplicity, the truth, and the loveliness of Juliet's +character, that we are not at first aware of its complexity, its depth, +and its variety. There is in it an intensity of passion, a singleness of +purpose, an entireness, a completeness of effect, which we feel as a +whole; and to attempt to analyze the impression thus conveyed at once to +soul and sense, is as if while hanging over a half-blown rose, and +revelling in its intoxicating perfume, we should pull it asunder, +leaflet by leaflet, the better to display its bloom and fragrance. Yet +how otherwise should we disclose the wonders of its formation, or do +justice to the skill of the divine hand that hath thus fashioned it in +its beauty? + +Love, as a passion, forms the groundwork of the drama. Now, admitting +the axiom of Rochefoucauld, that there is but one love, though a +thousand different copies, yet the true sentiment itself has as many +different aspects as the human soul of which it forms a part. It is not +only modified by the individual character and temperament, but it is +under the influence of climate and circumstance. The love that is calm +in one moment, shall show itself vehement and tumultuous at another. The +love that is wild and passionate in the south, is deep and +contemplative in the north; as the Spanish or Roman girl perhaps poisons +a rival, or stabs herself for the sake of a living lover, and the German +or Russian girl pines into the grave for love of the false, the absent, +or the dead. Love is ardent or deep, bold or timid, jealous or +confiding, impatient or humble, hopeful or desponding--and yet there are +not many loves, but one love. + +All Shakspeare's women, being essentially women, either love or have +loved, or are capable of loving; but Juliet is love itself. The passion +is her state of being, and out of it she has no existence. It is the +soul within her soul; the pulse within her heart; the life-blood along +her veins, "blending with every atom of her frame." The love that is so +chaste and dignified in Portia--so airy-delicate and fearless in +Miranda--so sweetly confiding in Perdita--so playfully fond in +Rosalind--so constant in Imogen--so devoted in Desdemona--so fervent in +Helen--so tender in Viola,--is each and all of these in Juliet. All +these remind us of her; but she reminds us of nothing but her own sweet +self; or if she does, it is of the Gismunda, or the Lisetta, or the +Fiammetta of Boccaccio, to whom she is allied, not in the character or +circumstances, but in the truly Italian spirit, the glowing, national +complexion of the portrait.[17] + +There was an Italian painter who said that the secret of all effect in +color consisted in white upon black, and black upon white. How perfectly +did Shakspeare understand this secret of effect! and how beautifully he +has exemplified it in Juliet? + + So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, + As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows! + +Thus she and her lover are in contrast with all around them. They are +all love, surrounded with all hate; all harmony, surrounded with all +discord: all pure nature, in the midst of polished and artificial life. +Juliet, like Portia, is the foster child of opulence and splendor; she +dwells in a fair city--she has been nurtured in a palace--she clasps her +robe with jewels--she braids her hair with rainbow-tinted pearls; but in +herself she has no more connection with the trappings around her, than +the lovely exotic, transplanted from some Eden-like climate, has with +the carved and gilded conservatory which has reared and sheltered its +luxuriant beauty. + +But in this vivid impression of contrast, there is nothing abrupt or +harsh. A tissue of beautiful poetry weaves together the principal +figures, and the subordinate personages. The consistent truth of the +costume, and the exquisite gradations of relief with which the most +opposite hues are approximated, blend all into harmony. Romeo and Juliet +are not poetical beings placed on a prosaic background; nor are they, +like Thekla and Max in the Wallenstein, two angels of light amid the +darkest and harshest, the most debased and revolting aspects of +humanity; but every circumstance, and every personage, and every shade +of character in each, tends to the development of the sentiment which is +the subject of the drama. The poetry, too, the richest that can possibly +be conceived, is interfused through all the characters; the splendid +imagery lavished upon all with the careless prodigality of genius, and +the whole is lighted up into such a sunny brilliance of effect, as +though Shakspeare had really transported himself into Italy, and had +drunk to intoxication of her genial atmosphere. How truly it has been +said, that "although Romeo and Juliet are in love, they are not +love-sick!" What a false idea would anything of the mere whining +amoroso, give us of Romeo, such as he really is in Shakspeare--the +noble, gallant, ardent, brave, and witty! And Juliet--with even less +truth could the phrase or idea apply to her! The picture in "Twelfth +Night" of the wan girl dying of love, "who pined in thought, and with a +green and yellow melancholy," would never surely occur to us, when +thinking on the enamored and impassioned Juliet, in whose bosom love +keeps a fiery vigil, kindling tenderness into enthusiasm, enthusiasm +into passion, passion into heroism! No, the whole sentiment of the play +is of a far different cast. It is flushed with the genial spirit of the +south: it tastes of youth, and of the essence of youth; of life, and of +the very sap of life.[18] We have indeed the struggle of love against +evil destinies, and a thorny world; the pain, the grief, the anguish, +the terror, the despair; the aching adieu; the pang unutterable of +parted affection; and rapture, truth, and tenderness trampled into an +early grave: but still an Elysian grace lingers round the whole, and the +blue sky of Italy bends over all! + +In the delineation of that sentiment which forms the groundwork of the +drama, nothing in fact can equal the power of the picture, but its +inexpressible sweetness and its perfect grace: the passion which has +taken possession of Juliet's whole soul, has the force, the rapidity, +the resistless violence of the torrent: but she is herself as "moving +delicate," as fair, as soft, as flexible as the willow that bends over +it, whose light leaves tremble even with the motion of the current which +hurries beneath them. But at the same time that the pervading sentiment +is never lost sight of, and is one and the same throughout, the +individual part of the character in all its variety is developed, and +marked with the nicest discrimination. For instance,--the simplicity of +Juliet is very different from the simplicity of Miranda: her innocence +is not the innocence of a desert island. The energy she displays does +not once remind us of the moral grandeur of Isabel, or the intellectual +power of Portia;--it is founded in the strength of passion, not in the +strength of character:--it is accidental rather than inherent, rising +with the tide of feeling or temper, and with it subsiding. Her romance +is not the pastoral romance of Perdita, nor the fanciful romance of +Viola; it is the romance of a tender heart and a poetical imagination. +Her inexperience is not ignorance: she has heard that there is such a +thing as falsehood, though she can scarcely conceive it. Her mother and +her nurse have perhaps warned her against flattering vows and man's +inconstancy; or she has even + + ----Turned the tale by Ariosto told, + Of fair Olympia, loved and left, of old! + +Hence that bashful doubt, dispelled almost as soon as felt-- + + Ah, gentle Romeo! + If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. + +That conscious shrinking from her own confession-- + + Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny + What I have spoke! + +The ingenuous simplicity of her avowal-- + + Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, + I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, + So thou wilt woo--but else, not for the world! + In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, + And therefore thou may'st think my 'havior light, + But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true + Than those who have more cunning to be strange. + +And the proud yet timid delicacy, with which she throws herself for +forbearance and pardon upon the tenderness of him she loves, even for +the love she bears him-- + + Therefore pardon me, + And not impute this yielding to light love, + Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +In the alternative, which she afterwards places before her lover with +such a charming mixture of conscious delicacy and girlish simplicity, +there is that jealousy of female honor which precept and education have +infused into her mind, without one real doubt of his truth, or the +slightest hesitation in her self-abandonment: for she does not even wait +to hear his asseverations;-- + + But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee + To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief. + + ROMEO. + + So thrive my soul-- + + JULIET. + + A thousand times, good night! + +But all these flutterings between native impulses and maiden fears +become gradually absorbed, swept away, lost, and swallowed up in the +depth and enthusiasm of confiding love. + + My bounty is as boundless as the sea, + My love as deep; the more I give to you + The more I have--for both are _infinite_! + +What a picture of the young heart, that sees no bound to its hopes, no +end to its affections! For "what was to hinder the thrilling tide of +pleasure which had just gushed from her heart, from flowing on without +stint or measure, but experience, which she was yet without? What was to +abate the transport of the first sweet sense of pleasure which her heart +had just tasted, but indifference, to which she was yet a stranger? What +was there to check the ardor of hope, of faith, of constancy, just +rising in her breast, but disappointment, which she had never yet +felt?"[19] + +Lord Byron's Haidee is a copy of Juliet in the Oriental costume, but the +development is epic, not dramatic.[20] + +I remember no dramatic character, conveying the same impression of +singleness of purpose, and devotion of heart and soul, except the Thekla +of Schiller's Wallenstein; she is the German Juliet; far unequal, +indeed, but conceived, nevertheless, in a kindred spirit. I know not if +critics have ever compared them, or whether Schiller is supposed to have +had the English, or rather the Italian, Juliet in his fancy when he +portrayed Thekla; but there are some striking points of coincidence, +while the national distinction in the character of the passion leaves to +Thekla a strong cast of originality.[21] The _Princess_ Thekla is, like +Juliet, the heiress of rank and opulence; her first introduction to us, +in her full dress and diamonds, does not impair the impression of her +softness and simplicity. We do not think of them, nor do we sympathize +with the complaint of her lover,-- + + The dazzle of the jewels which played round you + Hid the beloved from me. + +We almost feel the reply of Thekla before she utters it,-- + + Then you saw me + Not with your heart, but with your eyes! + +The timidity of Thekla in her first scene, her trembling silence in the +commencement, and the few words she addresses to her mother, remind us +of the unobtrusive simplicity of Juliet's first appearance; but the +impression is different; the one is the shrinking violet, the other the +unexpanded rose-bud. Thekla and Max Piccolomini are, like Romeo and +Juliet, divided by the hatred of their fathers. The death of Max, and +the resolute despair of Thekla, are also points of resemblance; and +Thekla's complete devotion, her frank yet dignified abandonment of all +disguise, and her apology for her own unreserve, are quite in Juliet's +style,-- + + I ought to be less open, ought to hide + My heart more from thee--so decorum dictates: + But where in this place wouldst thou seek for truth + If in my mouth thou didst not find it? + +The same confidence, innocence, and fervor of affection, distinguish +both heroines; but the love of Juliet is more vehement, the love of +Thekla is more calm, and reposes more on itself; the love of Juliet +gives us the idea of infinitude, and that of Thekla of eternity: the +love of Juliet flows on with an increasing tide, like the river pouring +to the ocean; and the love of Thekla stands unalterable, and enduring as +the rock. In the heart of Thekla love shelters as in a home; but in the +heart of Juliet he reigns a crowned king,--"he rides on its pants +triumphant!" As women, they would divide the loves and suffrages of +mankind, but not as dramatic characters: the moment we come to look +nearer, we acknowledge that it is indeed "rashness and ignorance to +compare Schiller with Shakspeare."[22] Thekla is a fine conception in +the German spirit, but Juliet is a lovely and palpable creation. The +coloring in which Schiller has arrayed his Thekla is pale, sombre, +vague, compared with the strong individual marking, the rich glow of +life and reality, which distinguish Juliet. One contrast in particular +has always struck me; the two beautiful speeches in the first interview +between Max and Thekla, that in which she describes her father's +astrological chamber, and that in which he replies with reflections on +the influence of the stars, are said to "form in themselves a fine +poem." They do so; but never would Shakspeare have placed such +extraneous description and reflection in the mouths of _his_ lovers. +Romeo and Juliet speak of themselves only; they see only themselves in +the universe, all things else are as an idle matter. Not a word they +utter, though every word is poetry--not a sentiment or description, +though dressed in the most luxuriant imagery, but has a direct relation +to themselves, or to the situation in which they are placed, and the +feelings that engross them: and besides, it may be remarked of Thekla, +and generally of all tragedy heroines in love, that, however beautifully +and distinctly characterized, we see the passion only under one or two +aspects at most, or in conflict with some one circumstance or contending +duty or feeling. In Juliet alone we find it exhibited under every +variety of aspect, and every gradation of feeling it could possibly +assume in a delicate female heart: as we see the rose, when passed +through the colors of the prism, catch and reflect every tint of the +divided ray, and still it is the same sweet rose. + +I have already remarked the quiet manner in which Juliet steals upon us +in her first scene, as the serene, graceful girl, her feelings as yet +unawakened, and her energies all unknown to herself, and unsuspected by +others. Her silence and her filial deference are charming:-- + + I'll look to like, if looking liking move; + But no more deep will I endart mine eye, + Than your consent shall give it strength to fly + +Much in the same unconscious way we are impressed with an idea of her +excelling loveliness:-- + + Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! + +and which could make the dark vault of death "a feasting presence full +of light." Without any elaborate description, we behold Juliet, as she +is reflected in the heart of her lover, like a single bright star +mirrored in the bosom of a deep, transparent well. The rapture with +which he dwells on the "white wonder of her hand;" on her lips, + + That even in pure and vestal modesty + Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. + +And then her eyes, "two of the fairest stars in all the heavens!" In his +exclamation in the sepulchre, + + Ah, dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair! + +there is life and death, beauty and horror, rapture and anguish +combined. The Friar's description of her approach, + + O, so light a step + Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint! + +and then her father's similitude, + + Death lies on her, like an untimely frost + Upon the sweetest flower of all the field;-- + +all these mingle into a beautiful picture of youthful, airy, delicate +grace, feminine sweetness, and patrician elegance. + +And our impression of Juliet's loveliness and sensibility is enhanced, +when we find it overcoming in the bosom of Romeo a previous love for +another. His visionary passion for the cold, inaccessible Rosaline, +forms but the prologue, the threshold, to the true--the real sentiment +which succeeds to it. This incident, which is found in the original +story, has been retained by Shakspeare with equal feeling and judgment; +and far from being a fault in taste and sentiment, far from prejudicing +us against Romeo, by casting on him, at the outset of the piece, the +stigma of inconstancy, it becomes, if properly considered, a beauty in +the drama, and adds a fresh stroke of truth to the portrait of the +lover. Why, after all, should we be offended at what does not offend +Juliet herself? for in the original story we find that her attention is +first attracted towards Romeo, by seeing him "fancy sick and pale of +cheer," for love of a cold beauty. We must remember that in those times +every young cavalier of any distinction devoted himself, at his first +entrance into the world, to the service of some fair lady, who was +selected to be his fancy's queen; and the more rigorous the beauty, and +the more hopeless the love, the more honorable the slavery. To go about +"metamorphosed by a mistress," as Speed humorously expresses it,[23]--to +maintain her supremacy in charms at the sword's point; to sigh; to walk +with folded arms; to be negligent and melancholy, and to show a careless +desolation, was the fashion of the day. The Surreys, the Sydneys, the +Bayards, the Herberts of the time--all those who were the mirrors "in +which the noble youth did dress themselves," were of this fantastic +school of gallantry--the last remains of the age of chivalry; and it was +especially prevalent in Italy. Shakspeare has ridiculed it in many +places with exquisite humor; but he wished to show us that it has its +serious as well as its comic aspect. Romeo, then, is introduced to us +with perfect truth of costume, as the thrall of a dreaming, fanciful +passion for the scornful Rosaline, who had forsworn to love; and on her +charms and coldness, and on the power of love generally, he descants to +his companions in pretty phrases, quite in the style and taste of the +day.[24] + + Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, + O any thing, of nothing first create! + O heavy lightness, serious vanity, + Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! + + Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; + Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lover's eyes; + Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lover's tears. + +But when once he has beheld Juliet, and quaffed intoxicating draughts of +hope and love from her soft glance, how all these airy fancies fade +before the soul-absorbing reality! The lambent fire that played round +his heart, burns to that heart's very core. We no longer find him +adorning his lamentations in picked phrases, or making a confidant of +his gay companions: he is no longer "for the numbers that Petrarch +flowed in;" but all is consecrated, earnest, rapturous, in the feeling +and the expression. Compare, for instance, the sparkling antithetical +passages just quoted, with one or two of his passionate speeches to or +of Juliet:-- + + Heaven is here, + Where Juliet lives! &c. + + Ah Juliet! if the measure of thy joy + Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more + To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath + This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue + Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both + Receive in either by this dear encounter. + + Come what sorrow may, + It cannot countervail the exchange of joy + That one short minute gives me in her sight. + +How different! and how finely the distinction is drawn! His first +passion is indulged as a waking dream, a reverie of the fancy; it is +depressing, indolent, fantastic; his second elevates him to the third +heaven, or hurries him to despair. It rushes to its object through all +impediments, defies all dangers, and seeks at last a triumphant grave, +in the arms of her he so loved. Thus Romeo's previous attachment to +Rosaline is so contrived as to exhibit to us another variety in that +passion, which is the subject of the poem, by showing us the distinction +between the fancied and the real sentiment. It adds a deeper effect to +the beauty of Juliet; it interests us in the commencement for the tender +and romantic Romeo; and gives an individual reality to his character, by +stamping him like an historical, as well as a dramatic portrait, with +the very spirit of the age in which he lived.[25] + +It may be remarked of Juliet as of Portia, that we not only trace the +component qualities in each as they expand before us in the course of +the action, but we seem to have known them previously, and mingle a +consciousness of their past, with the interest of their present and +their future. Thus, in the dialogue between Juliet and her parents, and +in the scenes with the Nurse, we seem to have before us the whole of her +previous education and habits: we see her, on the one hand, kept in +severe subjection by her austere parents; and on the other, fondled and +spoiled by a foolish old nurse--a situation perfectly accordant with the +manners of the time. Then Lady Capulet comes sweeping by with her train +of velvet, her black hood, her fan, and her rosary--the very +_beau-ideal_ of a proud Italian matron of the fifteenth century, whose +offer to poison Romeo in revenge for the death of Tybalt, stamps her +with one very characteristic trait of the age and country. Yet she loves +her daughter; and there is a touch of remorseful tenderness in her +lamentation over her, which adds to our impression of the timid softness +of Juliet, and the harsh subjection in which she has been kept:-- + + But one, poor one!--one poor and loving child, + But one thing to rejoice and solace in, + And cruel death hath catched it from my sight! + +Capulet, as the jovial, testy old man, the self willed, violent, +tyrannical father,--to whom his daughter is but a property, the appanage +of his house, and the object of his pride,--is equal as a portrait: but +both must yield to the Nurse, who is drawn with the most wonderful power +and discrimination. In the prosaic homeliness of the outline, and the +magical illusion of the coloring, she reminds us of some of the +marvellous Dutch paintings, from which, with all their coarseness, we +start back as from a reality. Her low humor, her shallow garrulity, +mixed with the dotage and petulance of age--her subserviency, her +secrecy, and her total want of elevated principle, or even common +honesty--are brought before us like a living and palpable truth. + +Among these harsh and inferior spirits is Juliet placed; her haughty +parents, and her plebeian nurse, not only throw into beautiful relief +her own native softness and elegance, but are at once the cause and the +excuse of her subsequent conduct. She trembles before her stern mother +and her violent father: but, like a petted child, alternately cajoles +and commands her nurse. It is her old foster-mother who is the +confidante of her love. It is the woman who cherished her infancy, who +aids and abets her in her clandestine marriage. Do we not perceive how +immediately our impression of Juliet's character would have been +lowered, if Shakspeare had placed her in connection with any +common-place dramatic waiting-woman?--even with Portia's adroit Nerissa, +or Desdemona's Emilia? By giving her the Nurse for her confidante, the +sweetness and dignity of Juliet's character are preserved inviolate to +the fancy, even in the midst of all the romance and wilfulness of +passion. + +The natural result of these extremes of subjection and independence, is +exhibited in the character of Juliet, as it gradually opens upon us. We +behold it in the mixture of self-will and timidity, of strength and +weakness, of confidence and reserve, which are developed as the action +of the play proceeds. We see it in the fond eagerness of the indulged +girl, for whose impatience the "nimblest of the lightning-winged loves" +had been too slow a messenger; in her petulance with her nurse; in those +bursts of vehement feeling, which prepare us for the climax of passion +at the catastrophe; in her invectives against Romeo, when she hears of +the death of Tybalt; in her indignation when the nurse echoes those +reproaches, and the rising of her temper against unwonted +contradiction:-- + + NURSE. + + Shame come to Romeo! + + JULIET. + + Blistered be thy tongue, + For such a wish! he was not born to shame. + +Then comes that revulsion of strong feeling, that burst of magnificent +exultation in the virtue and honor of her lover:-- + + Upon _his_ brow Shame is ashamed to sit, + For 'tis a throne where Honor may be crown'd + Sole monarch of the universal earth! + +And this, by one of those quick transitions of feeling which belong to +the character, is immediately succeeded by a gush of tenderness and +self-reproach-- + + Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, + When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it? + +With the same admirable truth of nature, Juliet is represented as at +first bewildered by the fearful destiny that closes round her; reverse +is new and terrible to one nursed in the lap of luxury, and whose +energies are yet untried. + + Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems + Upon so soft a subject as myself. + +While a stay remains to her amid the evils that encompass her, she +clings to it. She appeals to her father--to her mother-- + + Good father, I beseech you on my knees, + Hear me with patience but to speak one word! + + * * * * + + Ah, sweet my mother, cast me not away! + Delay this marriage for a month,--a week! + +And, rejected by both, she throws herself upon her nurse in all the +helplessness of anguish, of confiding affection, of habitual +dependence-- + + O God! O nurse! how shall this be prevented? + Some comfort, nurse! + +The old woman, true to her vocation, and fearful lest her share in these +events should be discovered, counsels her to forget Romeo and marry +Paris; and the moment which unveils to Juliet the weakness and baseness +of her confidante, is the moment which reveals her to herself. She does +not break into upbraidings; it is no moment for anger; it is incredulous +amazement, succeeded by the extremity of scorn and abhorrence, which +take possession of her mind. She assumes at once and asserts all her own +superiority, and rises to majesty in the strength of her despair. + + JULIET. + + Speakest thou from thy heart? + + NURSE. + + Aye, and from my soul too;--or else + Beshrew them both! + + JULIET. + + Amen! + +This final severing of all the old familiar ties of her childhood-- + + Go, counsellor! + Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain! + +and the calm, concentrated force of her resolve, + + If all else fail,--myself have power to die; + +have a sublime pathos. It appears to me also an admirable touch of +nature, considering the master-passion which, at this moment, rules in +Juliet's soul, that she is as much shocked by the nurse's dispraise of +her lover, as by her wicked, time-serving advice. + +This scene is the crisis in the character; and henceforth we see Juliet +assume a new aspect. The fond, impatient, timid girl, puts on the wife +and the woman: she has learned heroism from suffering, and subtlety from +oppression. It is idle to criticize her dissembling submission to her +father and mother; a higher duty has taken place of that which she owed +to them; a more sacred tie has severed all others. Her parents are +pictured as they are, that no feeling for them may interfere in the +slightest degree with our sympathy for the lovers. In the mind of Juliet +there is no struggle between her filial and her conjugal duties, and +there ought to be none. The Friar, her spiritual director, dismisses her +with these instructions:-- + + Go home,--be merry,--give consent + To marry Paris; + +and she obeys him. Death and suffering in every horrid form she is ready +to brave, without fear or doubt, "to live an unstained wife:" and the +artifice to which she has recourse, which she is even instructed to use, +in no respect impairs the beauty of the character; we regard it with +pain and pity; but excuse it, as the natural and inevitable consequence +of the situation in which she is placed. Nor should we forget, that the +dissimulation, as well as the courage of Juliet, though they spring from +passion, are justified by principle:-- + + My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; + How shall my faith return again to earth, + Unless that husband send it me from heaven? + +In her successive appeals to her father, her mother, her nurse, and the +Friar, she seeks those remedies which would first suggest themselves to +a gentle and virtuous nature, and grasps her dagger only as the last +resource against dishonor and violated faith;-- + + God join'd my heart with Romeo's,--thou our hands. + And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, + Shall be the label to another deed, + Or my true heart with treacherous revolt + Turn to another,--_this_ shall slay them both! + +Thus, in the very tempest and whirlwind of passion and terror, +preserving, to a certain degree, that moral and feminine dignity which +harmonizes with our best feelings, and commands our unreproved sympathy. + +I reserve my remarks on the catastrophe, which demands separate +consideration; and return to trace from the opening, another and +distinguishing trait in Juliet's character. + +In the extreme vivacity of her imagination, and its influence upon the +action, the language, the sentiments of the drama, Juliet resembles +Portia; but with this striking difference. In Portia, the imaginative +power, though developed in a high degree, is so equally blended with the +other intellectual and moral faculties, that it does not give us the +idea of excess. It is subject to her nobler reason; it adorns and +heightens all her feelings; it does not overwhelm or mislead them. In +Juliet, it is rather a part of her southern temperament, controlling and +modifying the rest of her character; springing from her sensibility, +hurried along by her passions, animating her joys, darkening her +sorrows, exaggerating her terrors, and, in the end, overpowering her +reason. With Juliet, imagination is, in the first instance, if not the +source, the medium of passion; and passion again kindles her +imagination. It is through the power of imagination that the eloquence +of Juliet is so vividly poetical; that every feeling, every sentiment +comes to her, clothed in the richest imagery, and is thus reflected from +her mind to ours. The poetry is not here the mere adornment, the outward +garnishing of the character; but its result, or rather blended with its +essence. It is indivisible from it, and interfused through it like +moonlight through the summer air. To particularize is almost impossible, +since the whole of the dialogue appropriated to Juliet is one rich +stream of imagery: she speaks in pictures and sometimes they are crowded +one upon another--thus in the balcony scene-- + + I have no joy of this contract to-night: + It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, + Too like the lightning which doth cease to be + Ere one can say it lightens. + + This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, + May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. + +Again, + + O for a falconer's voice + To lure this tassel-gentle back again! + Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud, + Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, + And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine + With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +Here there are three images in the course of six lines. In the same +scene, the speech of twenty-two lines, beginning, + + Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, + +contains but one figurative expression, _the mask of night_; and every +one reading this speech with the context, must have felt the peculiar +propriety of its simplicity, though perhaps without examining the cause +of an omission which certainly is not fortuitous. The reason lies in the +situation and in the feeling of the moment; where confusion, and +anxiety, and earnest self-defence predominate, the excitability and play +of the imagination would be checked and subdued for the time. + +In the soliloquy of the second act, where she is chiding at the nurse's +delay:-- + + O she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts, + That ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, + Driving back shadows over low'ring hills: + Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love, + And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings! + +How beautiful! how the lines mount and float responsive to the sense! +She goes on-- + + Had she affections, and warm youthful blood, + She'd be as swift in motion as a ball; + My words should bandy her to my sweet love, + And his to me! + +The famous soliloquy, "Gallop apace, ye fiery-footed steeds," teems with +luxuriant imagery. The fond adjuration, "Come night! come Romeo! _come +thou day in night_!" expresses that fulness of enthusiastic admiration +for her lover, which possesses her whole soul; but expresses it as only +Juliet could or would have expressed it,--in a bold and beautiful +metaphor. Let it be remembered, that, in this speech, Juliet is not +supposed to be addressing an audience, nor even a confidante; and I +confess I have been shocked at the utter want of taste and refinement in +those who, with coarse derision, or in a spirit of prudery, yet more +gross and perverse, have dared to comment on this beautiful "Hymn to the +Night," breathed out by Juliet in the silence and solitude of her +chamber. She is thinking aloud; it is the young heart "triumphing to +itself in words." In the midst of all the vehemence with which she calls +upon the night to bring Romeo to her arms, there is something so almost +infantine in her perfect simplicity, so playful and fantastic in the +imagery and language, that the charm of sentiment and innocence is +thrown over the whole; and her impatience, to use her own expression, is +truly that of "a child before a festival, that hath new robes and may +not wear them." It is at the very moment too that her whole heart and +fancy are abandoned to blissful anticipation, that the nurse enters with +the news of Romeo's banishment; and the immediate transition from +rapture to despair has a most powerful effect. + +It is the same shaping spirit of imagination which, in the scene with +the Friar, heaps together all images of horror that ever hung upon a +troubled dream. + + O bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, + From off the battlements of yonder tower, + Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk + Where serpents are--chain me with roaring bears, + Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house + O'ercovered quite with dead men's rattling bones; + Or bid me go into a new made grave; + Or hide me with a dead man in his shroud;-- + Things that to hear them told have made me tremble + +But she immediately adds,-- + + And I will do it without fear or doubt, + To live an unstained wife to my sweet love! + +In the scene where she drinks the sleeping potion, although her spirit +does not quail, nor her determination falter for an instant, her vivid +fancy conjures up one terrible apprehension after another, till +gradually, and most naturally in such a mind once thrown off its poise, +the horror rises to frenzy--her imagination realizes its own hideous +creations, and she _sees_ her cousin Tybalt's ghost.[26] + +In particular passages this luxuriance of fancy may seem to wander into +excess. For instance,-- + + O serpent heart, hid with a flowery face! + Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? + Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! + Dove-feather'd raven! wolfish ravening lamb, &c. + +Yet this highly figurative and antithetical exuberance of language is +defended by Schlegel on strong and just grounds; and to me also it +appears natural, however critics may argue against its taste or +propriety.[27] The warmth and vivacity of Juliet's fancy, which plays +like a light over every part of her character--which animates every line +she utters--which kindles every thought into a picture, and clothes her +emotions in visible images, would naturally, under strong and unusual +excitement, and in the conflict of opposing sentiments, run into some +extravagance of diction.[28] + +With regard to the termination of the play, which has been a subject of +much critical argument, it is well known that Shakspeare, following the +old English versions, has departed from the original story of Da +Porta;[29] and I am inclined to believe that Da Porta, in making Juliet +waken from her trance while Romeo yet lives, and in his terrible final +scene between the lovers, has himself departed from the old tradition, +and, as a romance, has certainly improved it; but that which is +effective in a narrative, is not always calculated for the drama, and I +cannot but agree with Schlegel, that Shakspeare has done well and wisely +in adhering to the old story. Can we doubt for a moment that he who has +given us the catastrophe of Othello, and the tempest scene in Lear, +might also have adopted these additional circumstances of horror in the +fate of the lovers, and have so treated them as to harrow up our very +soul--had it been his object to do so? But apparently it was _not_. The +tale is one, + + Such as, once heard, in gentle heart destroys + All pain but pity. + +It is in truth a tale of love and sorrow, not of anguish and terror. We +behold the catastrophe afar off with scarcely a wish to avert it. Romeo +and Juliet _must_ die; their destiny is fulfilled; they have quaffed off +the cup of life, with all its infinite of joys and agonies, in one +intoxicating draught. What have they to do more upon this earth? Young, +innocent, loving and beloved, they descend together into the tomb: but +Shakspeare has made that tomb a shrine of martyred and sainted affection +consecrated for the worship of all hearts,--not a dark charnel vault, +haunted by spectres of pain, rage, and desperation. Romeo and Juliet are +pictured lovely in death as in life; the sympathy they inspire does not +oppress us with that suffocating sense of horror, which in the altered +tragedy makes the fall of the curtain a relief; but all pain is lost in +the tenderness and poetic beauty of the picture. Romeo's last speech +over his bride is not like the raving of a disappointed boy: in its deep +pathos, its rapturous despair, its glowing imagery, there is the very +luxury of life and love. Juliet, who had drunk off the sleeping potion +in a fit of frenzy, wakes calm and collected-- + + I do remember well where I should be, + And there I am--Where is my Romeo? + +The profound slumber in which her senses have been steeped for so many +hours has tranquillized her nerves, and stilled the fever in her blood; +she wakes "like a sweet child who has been dreaming of something +promised to it by its mother," and opens her eyes to ask for it-- + + ... Where is my Romeo? + +she is answered at once,-- + + Thy husband in thy bosom here lies dead. + +This is enough: she sees at once the whole horror of her situation--she +sees it with a quiet and resolved despair--she utters no reproach +against the Friar--makes no inquiries, no complaints, except that +affecting remonstrance-- + + O churl--drink all, and leave no friendly drop + To help me after! + +All that is left to her is to die, and she dies. The poem, which opened +with the enmity of the two families, closes with their reconciliation +over the breathless remains of their children; and no violent, +frightful, or discordant feeling is suffered to mingle with that soft +impression of melancholy left within the heart, and which Schlegel +compares to one long, endless sigh. + +"A youthful passion," says Goethe, (alluding to one of his own early +attachments,) "which is conceived and cherished without any certain +object, may be compared to a shell thrown from a mortar by night: it +rises calmly in a brilliant track, and seems to mix, and even to dwell +for a moment, with the stars of heaven; but at length it falls--it +bursts--consuming and destroying all around, even as itself expires." + + * * * * * + +To conclude: love, considered under its poetical aspect, is the union of +passion and imagination and accordingly, to one of these, or to both, +all the qualities of Juliet's mind and heart (unfolding and varying as +the action of the drama proceeds) may be finally traced; the former +concentrating all those natural impulses, fervent affections and high +energies, which lend the character its internal charm, its moral power +and individual interest: the latter diverging from all those splendid +and luxuriant accompaniments which invest it with its external glow, its +beauty, its vigor, its freshness, and its truth. + +With all this immense capacity of affection and imagination, there is a +deficiency of reflection and of moral energy arising from previous habit +and education: and the action of the drama, while it serves to develope +the character, appears but its natural and necessary result. "Le mystere +de l'existence," said Madame de Stael to her daughter, "c'est le rapport +de nos erreurs avec nos peines." + + +HELENA. + +In the character of Juliet we have seen the passionate and the +imaginative blended in an equal degree, and in the highest conceivable +degree as combined with delicate female nature. In Helena we have a +modification of character altogether distinct; allied, indeed, to Juliet +as a picture of fervent, enthusiastic, self-forgetting love, but +differing wholly from her in other respects; for Helen is the union of +strength of passion with strength of character. + +"To be tremblingly alive to gentle impressions, and yet be able to +preserve, when the prosecution of a design requires it, an immovable +heart amidst even the most imperious causes of subduing emotion, is +perhaps not an impossible constitution of mind, but it is the utmost and +rarest endowment of humanity."[30] Such a character, almost as difficult +to delineate in fiction as to find in real life, has Shakspeare given us +in Helena; touched with the most soul-subduing pathos, and developed +with the most consummate skill. + +Helena, as a woman, is more passionate than imaginative; and, as a +character, she bears the same relation to Juliet that Isabel bears to +Portia. There is equal unity of purpose and effect, with much less of +the glow of imagery and the external coloring of poetry in the +sentiments, language, and details. It is passion developed under its +most profound and serious aspect; as in Isabella, we have the serious +and the thoughtful, not the brilliant side of intellect. Both Helena and +Isabel are distinguished by high mental powers, tinged with a melancholy +sweetness; but in Isabella the serious and energetic part of the +character is founded in religious principle; in Helena it is founded in +deep passion. + +There never was, perhaps, a more beautiful picture of a woman's love, +cherished in secret, not self-consuming in silent languishment--not +pining in thought--not passive and "desponding over its idol"--but +patient and hopeful, strong in its own intensity, and sustained by its +own fond faith. The passion here reposes upon itself for all its +interest; it derives nothing from art or ornament or circumstance; it +has nothing of the picturesque charm or glowing romance of Juliet; +nothing of the poetical splendor of Portia, or the vestal grandeur of +Isabel. The situation of Helena is the most painful and degrading in +which a woman can be placed. She is poor and lowly; she loves a man who +is far her superior in rank, who repays her love with indifference, and +rejects her hand with scorn. She marries him against his will; he leaves +her with contumely on the day of their marriage, and makes his return to +her arms depend on conditions apparently impossible.[31] All the +circumstances and details with which Helena is surrounded, are shocking +to our feelings and wounding to our delicacy: and yet the beauty of the +character is made to triumph over all: and Shakspeare, resting for all +his effect on its internal resources and its genuine truth and +sweetness, has not even availed himself of some extraneous advantages +with which Helen is represented in the original story. She is the +Giletta di Narbonna of Boccaccio. In the Italian tale, Giletta is the +daughter of a celebrated physician attached to the court of Roussillon; +she is represented as a rich heiress, who rejects many suitors of worth +and rank, in consequence of her secret attachment to the young Bertram +de Roussillon. She cures the King of France of a grievous distemper, by +one of her fathers prescriptions; and she asks and receives as her +reward the young Count of Roussillon as her wedded husband. He forsakes +her on their wedding day, and she retires, by his order, to his +territory of Roussillon. There she is received with honor, takes state +upon her in her husband's absence as the "lady of the land," administers +justice, and rules her lord's dominions so wisely and so well, that she +is universally loved and reverenced by his subjects. In the mean time, +the Count, instead of rejoining her, flies to Tuscany, and the rest of +the story is closely followed in the drama. The beauty, wisdom, and +royal demeanor of Giletta are charmingly described, as well as her +fervent love for Bertram. But Helena, in the play, derives no dignity or +interest from place or circumstance, and rests for all our sympathy and +respect solely upon the truth and intensity of her affections. She is +indeed represented to us as one + + Whose beauty did astonish the survey + Of richest eyes: whose words all ears took captive; + Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve. + Humbly called mistress. + +As her dignity is derived from mental power, without any alloy of pride, +so her humility has a peculiar grace. If she feels and repines over her +lowly birth, it is merely as an obstacle which separates her from the +man she loves. She is more sensible to his greatness than her own +littleness: she is continually looking from herself up to him, not from +him down to herself. She has been bred up under the same roof with him; +she has adored him from infancy. Her love is not "th' infection taken in +at the eyes," nor kindled by youthful romance: it appears to have taken +root in her being; to have grown with her years; and to have gradually +absorbed all her thoughts and faculties, until her fancy "carries no +favor in it but Bertram's," and "there is no living, none, if Bertram be +away." + +It may be said that Bertram, arrogant, wayward, and heartless, does not +justify this ardent and deep devotion. But Helena does not behold him +with our eyes; but as he is "sanctified in her idolatrous fancy." Dr. +Johnson says he cannot reconcile himself to a man who marries Helena +like a coward, and leaves her like a profligate. This is much too +severe; in the first place, there is no necessity that we _should_ +reconcile ourselves to him. In this consists a part of the wonderful +beauty of the character of Helena--a part of its womanly truth, which +Johnson, who accuses Bertram, and those who so plausibly defend him, did +not understand. If it never happened in real life, that a woman, richly +endued with heaven's best gifts, loved with all her heart, and soul, and +strength, a man unequal to or unworthy of her, and to whose faults +herself alone was blind--I would give up the point: but if it be in +nature, why should it not be in Shakspeare? We are not to look into +Bertram's character for the spring and source of Helena's love for him, +but into her own. She loves Bertram,--because she loves him!--a woman's +reason,--but here, and sometimes elsewhere, all-sufficient. + +And although Helena tells herself that she loves in vain, a conviction +stronger than reason tells her that she does not: her love is like a +religion, pure, holy, and deep: the blessedness to which she has lifted +her thoughts is forever before her; to despair would be a crime,--it +would be to cast herself away and die. The faith of her affection, +combining with the natural energy of her character, believing all things +possible makes them so. It could say to the mountain of pride which +stands between her and her hopes, "Be thou removed!" and it is removed. +This is the solution of her behavior in the marriage scene, where +Bertram, with obvious reluctance and disdain, accepts her hand, which +the king, his feudal lord and guardian, forces on him. Her maidenly +feeling is at first shocked, and she shrinks back-- + + That you are well restor'd, my lord, I am glad: + Let the rest go. + +But shall she weakly relinquish the golden opportunity, and dash the cup +from her lips at the moment it is presented? Shall she cast away the +treasure for which she has ventured both life and honor, when it is just +within her grasp? Shall she, after compromising her feminine delicacy by +the public disclosure of her preference, be thrust back into shame, "to +blush out the remainder of her life," and die a poor, lost, scorned +thing? This would be very pretty and interesting and characteristic in +Viola or Ophelia, but not at all consistent with that high determined +spirit, that moral energy, with which Helena is portrayed. Pride is the +only obstacle opposed to her. She is not despised and rejected as a +woman, but as a poor physician's daughter; and this, to an understanding +so clear, so strong, so just as Helena's, is not felt as an unpardonable +insult. The mere pride of rank and birth is a prejudice of which she +cannot comprehend the force, because her mind towers so immeasurably +above it; and, compared to the infinite love which swells within her own +bosom, it sinks into nothing. She cannot conceive that he, to whom she +has devoted her heart and truth, her soul, her life, her service, must +not one day love her in return; and once her own beyond the reach of +fate, that her cares, her caresses, her unwearied patient tenderness, +will not at last "win her lord to look upon her"-- + + ... For time will bring on summer, + When briars shall have leaves as well as thorns, + And be as sweet as sharp. + +It is this fond faith which, hoping all things, enables her to endure +all things:--which hallows and dignifies the surrender of her woman's +pride, making it a sacrifice on which virtue and love throw a mingled +incense. + +The scene in which the Countess extorts from Helen the confession of her +love, must, as an illustration, be given here. It is perhaps, the finest +in the whole play, and brings out all the striking points of Helen's +character, to which I have already alluded. We must not fail to remark, +that though the acknowledgment is wrung from her with an agony which +seems to convulse her whole being, yet when once she has given it solemn +utterance, she recovers her presence of mind, and asserts her native +dignity. In her justification of her feelings and her conduct, there is +neither sophistry, nor self-deception, nor presumption, but a noble +simplicity, combined with the most impassioned earnestness; while the +language naturally rises in its eloquent beauty, as the tide of feeling, +now first let loose from the bursting heart, comes pouring forth in +words. The whole scene is wonderfully beautiful. + + HELENA. + + What is your pleasure, madam? + + COUNTESS. + + You know, Helen, I am a mother to you. + + HELENA. + + Mine honorable mistress. + + COUNTESS + + Nay, a mother; + Why not a mother? When I said a mother, + Methought you saw a serpent: what's in mother, + That you start at it? I say, I am your mother: + And put you in the catalogue of those + That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen, + Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds + A native slip to us from foreign seeds. + You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, + Yet I express to you a mother's care;-- + God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood, + To say, I am thy mother? What's the matter + That this distempered messenger of wet, + The many-color'd Iris, rounds thine eye? + Why?--that you are my daughter? + + HELENA. + + That I am not. + + COUNTESS. + + I say, I am your mother. + + HELENA. + + Pardon, madam: + The Count Roussillon cannot be my brother: + I am from humble, he from honor'd name; + No note upon my parents, his all noble: + My master, my dear lord he is: and I + His servant live, and will his vassal die: + He must not be my brother. + + COUNTESS. + + Nor I your mother? + + HELENA. + + You are my mother, madam; would you were + (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) + Indeed my mother, or, were you both our mothers, + I care no more for, than I do for Heaven,[32] + So I were not his sister; can't no other, + But I, your daughter, he must be my brother? + + COUNTESS. + + Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law; + God shield, you mean it not! daughter and mother + So strive upon your pulse: what, pale again? + My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see + The mystery of your loneliness, and find + Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross + You love my son; invention is asham'd, + Against the proclamation of thy passion, + To say, thou dost not: therefore tell me true; + But tell me, then, 'tis so:--for, look, thy cheeks + Confess it, one to the other. + Speak, is't so? + If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue! + If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, + As heaven shall work in me for thy avail, + To tell me truly. + + HELENA. + + Good madam, pardon me! + + COUNTESS. + + Do you love my son? + + HELENA. + + Your pardon, noble mistress! + + COUNTESS. + + Love you my son? + + HELENA. + + Do not you love him, madam? + + COUNTESS. + + Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, + Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose + The state of your affection; for your passions + Have to the full appeach'd. + + HELENA. + + Then I confess + Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, + That before you, and next unto high heaven, + I love your son:-- + My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love + Be not offended; for it hurts not him, + That he is loved of me; I follow him not + By any token of presumptuous suit; + Nor would I have him till I do deserve him: + Yet never know how that desert should be. + I know I love in vain; strive against hope; + Yet, in this captious and untenable sieve, + I still pour in the waters of my love, + And lack not to love still: thus, Indian-like, + Religious in mine error, I adore + The sun that looks upon his worshipper, + But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, + Let not your hate encounter with my love, + For loving where you do: but, if yourself, + Whose aged honor cites a virtuous youth, + Did ever in so true a flame of liking, + Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian + Was both herself and love; O then give pity + To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose + But lend and give, where she is sure to lose; + That seeks not to find that her search implies, + But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies. + +This old Countess of Roussillon is a charming sketch. She is like one of +Titian's old women, who still, amid their wrinkles, remind us of that +soul of beauty and sensibility, which must have animated them when +young. She is a fine contrast to Lady Capulet--benign, cheerful, and +affectionate; she has a benevolent enthusiasm, which neither age, nor +sorrow, nor pride can wear away. Thus, when she is brought to believe +that Helen nourishes a secret attachment for her son, she observes-- + + Even so it was with me when I was young! + This thorn + Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong, + It is the show and seal of nature's truth, + When love's strong passion is impress'd in youth. + +Her fond, maternal love for Helena, whom she has brought up: her pride +in her good qualities overpowering all her own prejudices of rank and +birth, are most natural in such a mind; and her indignation against her +son, however strongly expressed, never forgets the mother. + + What angel shall + Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive + Unless _her_ prayers, whom heaven delights to hear + And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath + Of greatest justice. + Which of them both + Is dearest to me--I have no skill in sense + To make distinction. + +This is very skilfully, as well as delicately conceived. In rejecting +those poetical and accidental advantages which Giletta possesses in the +original story, Shakspeare has substituted the beautiful character of +the Countess; and he has contrived, that, as the character of Helena +should rest for its internal charm on the depth of her own affections, +so it should depend for its _external_ interest on the affection she +inspires. The enthusiastic tenderness of the old Countess, the +admiration and respect of the King, Lafeu, and all who are brought in +connection with her, make amends for the humiliating neglect of Bertram; +and cast round Helen that collateral light, which Giletta in the story +owes to other circumstances, striking indeed, and well imagined, but not +(I think) so finely harmonizing with the character. + +It is also very natural that Helen, with the intuitive discernment of a +pure and upright mind, and the penetration of a quick-witted woman, +should be the first to detect the falsehood and cowardice of the boaster +Parolles, who imposes on every one else. + +It has been remarked, that there is less of poetical imagery in this +play than in many of the others. A certain solidity in Helen's character +takes place of the ideal power; and with consistent truth of keeping, +the same predominance of feeling over fancy, of the reflective over the +imaginative faculty, is maintained through the whole dialogue. Yet the +finest passages in the serious scenes are those appropriated to her; +they are familiar and celebrated as quotations, but fully to understand +their beauty and truth, they should be considered relatively to her +character and situation; thus, when in speaking of Bertram, she says, +"that he is one to whom she wishes well," the consciousness of the +disproportion between her words and her feelings draws from her this +beautiful and affecting observation, so just in itself, and so true to +her situation, and to the sentiment which fills her whole heart:-- + + 'Tis pity + That wishing well had not a body in't + Which might be felt: that we the poorer born, + Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, + Might with effects of them follow our friends, + And act what we must only think, which never + Returns us thanks. + +Some of her general reflections have a sententious depth and a +contemplative melancholy, which remind us of Isabella:-- + + Our remedies oft in themselves do lie + Which we ascribe to heaven; the fated sky + Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull + Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. + + Impossible be strange events to those + That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose + What hath been cannot be. + + He that of greatest works is finisher, + Oft does them by the weakest minister; + So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, + When judges have been babes. + + Oft expectation fails, and most oft there + Where most it promises; and oft it hits, + Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits. + +Her sentiments in the same manner are remarkable for the union of +profound sense with the most passionate feeling; and when her language +is figurative, which is seldom, the picture presented to us is +invariably touched either with a serious, a lofty, or a melancholy +beauty. For instance:-- + + It were all one + That I should love a bright particular star, + And think to wed it--he's so far above me. + +And when she is brought to choose a husband from among the young lords +at the court, her heart having already made its election, the +strangeness of that very privilege for which she had ventured all, +nearly overpowers her, and she says beautifully:-- + + The blushes on my cheeks thus whisper me, + "We blush that thou shouldst choose;--but be refused, + Let the white death sit on that cheek for ever + We'll ne'er come there again!" + +In her soliloquy after she has been forsaken by Bertram, the beauty lies +in the intense feeling, the force and simplicity of the expressions. +There is little imagery, and wherever it occurs, it is as bold as it is +beautiful, and springs out of the energy of the sentiment, and the +pathos of the situation. She has been reading his cruel letter. + + _Till I have no wife I have nothing in France._ + 'Tis bitter! + Nothing in France, until he has no wife! + Thou shalt have none, Roussillon, none in France, + Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I + That chase thee from thy country, and expose + Those tender limbs of thine to the event + Of the none-sparing war? And is it I + That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou + Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark + Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, + That ride upon the violent speed of fire, + Fly with false aim! move the still-piercing air, + That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord! + Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; + Whoever charges on his forward breast, + I am the caitiff that do hold him to it; + And though I kill him not, I am the cause + His death was so effected; better 'twere + I met the ravin lion when he roared + With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere + That all the miseries which nature owes, + Were mine at once. + + No, no, although + The air of paradise did fan the house, + And angels officed all; I will be gone. + +Though I cannot go the length of those who have defended Bertram on +almost every point, still I think the censure which Johnson has passed +on the character is much too severe. Bertram is certainly not a pattern +hero of romance, but full of faults such as we meet with every day in +men of his age and class. He is a bold, ardent, self-willed youth, just +dismissed into the world from domestic indulgence, with an excess of +aristocratic and military pride, but not without some sense of true +honor and generosity. I have lately read a defence of Bertram's +character, written with much elegance and plausibility. "The young +Count," says this critic, "comes before us possessed of a good heart, +and of no mean capacity, but with a haughtiness which threatens to dull +the kinder passions, and to cloud the intellect. This is the inevitable +consequence of an illustrious education. The glare of his birthright has +dazzled his young faculties. Perhaps the first words he could +distinguish were from the important nurse, giving elaborate directions +about his lordship's pap. As soon as he could walk, a crowd of +submissive vassals doffed their caps, and hailed his first appearance on +his legs. His spelling book had the arms of the family emblazoned on the +cover. He had been accustomed to hear himself called the great, the +mighty son of Roussillon, ever since he was a helpless child. A +succession of complacent tutors would by no means destroy the illusion; +and it is from their hands that Shakspeare receives him, while yet in +his minority. An overweening pride of birth is Bertram's great foible. +To cure him of this, Shakspeare sends him to the wars, that he may win +fame for himself, and thus exchange a shadow for a reality. There the +great dignity that his valor acquired for him places him on an equality +with any one of his ancestors, and he is no longer beholden to them +alone for the world's observance. Thus in his own person he discovers +there is something better than mere hereditary honors; and his heart is +prepared to acknowledge that the entire devotion of a Helen's love is of +more worth than the court-bred smiles of a princess."[33] + +It is not extraordinary that, in the first instance, his spirit should +revolt at the idea of marrying his mother's "waiting gentlewoman," or +that he should refuse her; yet when the king, his feudal lord, whose +despotic authority was in this case legal and indisputable, threatens +him with the extremity of his wrath and vengeance, that he should submit +himself to a hard necessity, was too consistent with the manners of the +time to be called _cowardice_. Such forced marriages were not uncommon +even in our own country, when the right of wardship, now vested in the +Lord Chancellor, was exercised with uncontrolled and often cruel +despotism by the sovereign. + +There is an old ballad, in which the king bestows a maid of low degree +on a noble of his court, and the undisguised scorn and reluctance of the +knight and the pertinacity of the lady, are in point. + + He brought her down full forty pound + Tyed up within a glove, + "Fair maid, I'll give the same to thee, + Go seek another love." + + "O I'll have none of your gold," she said, + "Nor I'll have none of your fee; + But your fair bodye I must have, + The king hath granted me." + + Sir William ran and fetched her then, + Five hundred pounds in gold, + Saying, "Fair maid, take this to thee, + My fault will ne'er be told." + + "'Tis not the gold that shall me tempt," + These words then answered she; + "But your own bodye I must have, + The king hath granted me." + + "Would I had drank the water clear, + When I did drink the wine, + Rather than my shepherd's brat + Should be a ladye of mine!"[34] + +Bertram's disgust at the tyranny which has made his freedom the payment +of another's debt, which has united him to a woman whose merits are not +towards him--whose secret love, and long-enduring faith, are yet unknown +and untried--might well make his bride distasteful to him. He flies her +on the very day of their marriage, most like a wilful, haughty, angry +boy, but not like a profligate. On other points he is not so easily +defended; and Shakspeare, we see, has not defended, but corrected him. +The latter part of the play is more perplexing than pleasing. We do not, +indeed, repine with Dr. Johnson, that Bertram, after all his +misdemeanors, is "dismissed to happiness;" but, not withstanding the +clever defence that has been made for him, he has our pardon rather than +our sympathy; and for mine own part, I could find it easier to love +Bertram as Helena does, than to excuse him; her love for him is his best +excuse. + + +PERDITA. + +In Viola and Perdita the distinguishing traits are the same--sentiment +and elegance; thus we associate them together, though nothing can be +more distinct to the fancy than the Doric grace of Perdita, compared to +the romantic sweetness of Viola. They are created out of the same +materials, and are equal to each other in the tenderness, delicacy, and +poetical beauty of the conception. They are both more imaginative than +passionate; but Perdita is the more imaginative of the two. She is the +union of the pastoral and romantic with the classical and poetical, as +if a dryad of the woods had turned shepherdess. The perfections with +which the poet has so lavishly endowed her, sit upon her with a certain +careless and picturesque grace, "as though they had fallen upon her +unawares." Thus Belphoebe, in the Fairy Queen, issues from the +flowering forest with hair and garments all besprinkled with the leaves +and blossoms they had entangled in their flight; and so arrayed by +chance and "heedless hap," takes all hearts with "stately presence and +with princely port,"--most like to Perdita! + +The story of Florizel and Perdita is but an episode in the "Winter's +Tale;" and the character of Perdita is properly kept subordinate to that +of her mother, Hermione: yet the picture is perfectly finished in every +part;--Juliet herself is not more firmly and distinctly drawn. But the +coloring in Perdita is more silvery light and delicate; the pervading +sentiment more touched with the ideal; compared with Juliet, she is like +a Guido hung beside a Georgione, or one of Paesiello's airs heard after +one of Mozart's. + +The qualities which impart to Perdita her distinct individuality, are +the beautiful combination of the pastoral with the elegant--of +simplicity with elevation--of spirit with sweetness. The exquisite +delicacy of the picture is apparent. To understand and appreciate its +effective truth and nature, we should place Perdita beside some of the +nymphs of Arcadia, or the Chloris' and Sylvias of the Italian pastorals, +who, however graceful in themselves, when opposed to Perdita, seem to +melt away into mere poetical abstractions;--as, in Spenser, the fair but +fictitious Florimel, which the subtle enchantress had moulded out of +snow, "vermeil tinctured," and informed with an airy spirit, that knew +"all wiles of woman's wits," fades and dissolves away, when placed next +to the real Florimel, in her warm, breathing, human loveliness. + +Perdita does not appear till the fourth act, and the whole of the +character is developed in the course of a single scene, (the third,) +with a completeness of effect which leaves nothing to be +required--nothing to be supplied. She is first introduced in the +dialogue between herself and Florizel, where she compares her own lowly +state to his princely rank, and expresses her fears of the issue of +their unequal attachment. With all her timidity and her sense of the +distance which separates her from her lover, she breathes not a single +word which could lead us to impugn either her delicacy or her dignity. + + FLORIZEL. + + These your unusual weeds to each part of you + Do give a life--no shepherdess, but Flora + Peering in April's front; this your sheep-shearing + Is as the meeting of the petty gods, + And you the queen on't. + + PERDITA. + + Sir, my gracious lord, + To chide at your extremes it not becomes me; + O pardon that I name them: your high self, + The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured + With a swain's bearing; and me, poor lowly maid, + Most goddess-like prank'd up:--but that our feasts + In every mess have folly, and the feeders + Digest it with a custom, I should blush + To see you so attired; sworn, I think + To show myself a glass. + +The impression of her perfect beauty and airy elegance of demeanor is +conveyed in two exquisite passages:-- + + What you do + Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, + I'd have you do it ever. When you sing, + I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms, + Pray so, and for the ordering your affairs + To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you + A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do + Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own + No other function. + + I take thy hand; this hand + As soft as dove's down, and as white as it; + Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, + That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er. + +The artless manner in which her innate nobility of soul shines forth +through her pastoral disguise, is thus brought before us at once:-- + + This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever + Ran on the green sward; nothing she does or seems, + But smacks of something greater than herself; + Too noble for this place. + +Her natural loftiness of spirit breaks out where she is menaced and +reviled by the King, as one whom his son has degraded himself by merely +looking on; she bears the royal frown without quailing; but the moment +he is gone, the immediate recollection of herself, and of her humble +state, of her hapless love, is full of beauty, tenderness, and nature:-- + + Even here undone! + I was much afeard: for once or twice, + I was about to speak; and tell him plainly + The self-same sun, that shines upon his court + Hides not his visage from our cottage, but + Looks on alike. + + Will't please, you Sir, be gone? + 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. + + How often have I told you 'twould be thus + How often said, my dignity would last + But till 'twere known! + + FLORIZEL. + + It cannot fail, but by + The violation of my faith; and then + Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together + And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks. + + * * * * + + Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may + Be thereat glean'd! for all the sun sees, or + The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide + In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath + To thee, my fair beloved! + +Perdita has another characteristic, which lends to the poetical delicacy +of the delineation a certain strength and moral elevation, which is +peculiarly striking. It is that sense of truth and rectitude, that +upright simplicity of mind, which disdains all crooked and indirect +means, which would not stoop for an instant to dissemblance, and is +mingled with a noble confidence in her love and in her lover. In this +spirit is her answer to Camilla, who says, courtier like,-- + + Besides, you know + Prosperity's the very bond of love; + Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together + Affliction alters. + +To which she replies,-- + + One of these is true; + I think, affliction may subdue the cheek, + But not take in the mind. + +In that elegant scene where she receives the guests at the +sheep-shearing, and distributes the flowers, there is in the full flow +of the poetry, a most beautiful and striking touch of individual +character: but here it is impossible to mutilate the dialogue. + + Reverend sirs, + For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep + Seeming and savor all the winter long; + Grace and remembrance be to you both, + And welcome to our shearing! + + POLIXENES. + + Shepherdess, + (A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages + With flowers of winter. + + PERDITA. + + Sir, the year growing ancient, + Nor yet on summer's death, nor on the birth + Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season + Are our carnations, and streaked gilliflowers, + Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind + Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not + To get slips of them. + + POLIXENES. + + Wherefore, gentle maiden, + Do you neglect them? + + PERDITA. + + For I have heard it said, + There is an art, which in their piedness, shares + With great creating nature. + + POLIXENES. + + Say there be; + Yet nature is made better by no mean + But nature makes that mean; so o'er that art + Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art + That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry + A gentle scion to the wildest stock; + And make conceive a bark of baser kind + By bud of nobler race. This is an art + Which does mend nature, change it rather; but + The art itself is nature. + + PERDITA. + + So it is. + + POLIXENES. + + Then make your garden rich in gilliflowers, + And do not call them bastards. + + PERDITA. + + I'll not put + The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; + No more than were I painted, I would wish + This youth should say 'twere well. + +It has been well remarked of this passage, that Perdita does not attempt +to answer the reasoning of Polixenes: she gives up the argument, but, +woman-like, retains her own opinion, or rather, her sense of right, +unshaken by his sophistry. She goes on in a strain of poetry, which +comes over the soul like music and fragrance mingled: we seem to inhale +the blended odors of a thousand flowers, till the sense faints with +their sweetness; and she concludes with a touch of passionate sentiment, +which melts into the very heart:-- + + O Proserpina! + For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall + From Dis's wagon! daffodils, + That come before the swallow dares, and take + The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, + But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, + Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, + That die unmarried, ere they can behold + Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady + Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and + The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, + The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack, + To make you garlands of; and my sweet friend + To strew him o'er and o'er. + + FLORIZEL. + + What! like a corse? + + PERDITA. + + No, like a bank, for Love to lie and play on; + Not like a corse: or if,--not to be buried, + But quick, and in mine arms! + +This love of truth, this _conscientiousness_, which forms so distinct a +feature in the character of Perdita, and mingles with its picturesque +delicacy a certain firmness and dignity, is maintained consistently to +the last. When the two lovers fly together from Bohemia, and take refuge +in the court of Leontes, the real father of Perdita, Florizel presents +himself before the king with a feigned tale, in which he has been +artfully instructed by the old counsellor Camillo. During this scene, +Perdita does not utter a word. In the strait in which they are placed, +she cannot deny the story which Florizel relates--she will not confirm +it. Her silence, in spite of all the compliments and greetings of +Leontes, has a peculiar and characteristic grace and, at the conclusion +of the scene, when they are betrayed, the truth bursts from her as if +instinctively, and she exclaims, with emotion,-- + + The heavens set spies upon us--will not have + Our contract celebrated. + +After this scene, Perdita says very little. The description of her +grief, while listening to the relation of her mother's death,-- + + "One of the prettiest touches of all, was, when at the + relation of the queen's death, with the manner how she came + by it, how attentiveness wounded her daughter: till from one + sign of dolor to another, she did, with an _alas_! I would + fain say, bleed tears:"-- + +her deportment too as she stands gazing on the statue of Hermione, fixed +in wonder, admiration and sorrow, as if she too were marble-- + + O royal piece! + There's magic in thy majesty, which has + From thy admiring daughter ta'en the spirits, + Standing like stone beside thee! + +are touches of character conveyed indirectly, and which serve to give a +more finished effect to this beautiful picture. + + +VIOLA. + +As the innate dignity of Perdita pierces through her rustic disguise, so +the exquisite refinement of Viola triumphs over her masculine attire. +Viola is, perhaps, in a degree less elevated and ideal than Perdita, but +with a touch of sentiment more profound and heart-stirring; she is +"deep-learned in the lore of love,"--at least theoretically,--and speaks +as masterly on the subject as Perdita does of flowers. + + DUKE. + + How dost thou like this tune? + + VIOLA. + + It gives a very echo to the seat + Where love is thron'd. + +And again, + + If I did love you in my master's flame, + With such a suffering, such a deadly life-- + in your denial I would find no sense, + I would not understand it. + + OLIVIA. + + Why, what would you do? + + VIOLA. + + Make me a willow cabin at your gate, + And call upon my soul within the house; + Write loyal cantons[35] of contemned love, + And sing them loud even in the dead of night. + Holla your name to the reverberate hills, + And make babbling gossip of the air + Cry out, Olivia! O you should not rest + Between the elements of air and earth, + But you should pity me. + + OLIVIA. + + You might do much. + +The situation and the character of Viola have been censured for their +want of consistency and probability; it is therefore worth while to +examine how far this criticism is true. As for her situation in the +drama, (of which she is properly the heroine,) it is shortly this. She +is shipwrecked on the coast of Illyria: she is alone and without +protection in a strange country. She wishes to enter into the service of +the Countess Olivia; but she is assured that this is impossible; "for +the lady having recently lost an only and beloved brother, has abjured +the sight of men, has shut herself up in her palace, and will admit no +kind of suit." In this perplexity Viola remembers to have heard her +father speak with praise and admiration of Orsino, the Duke of the +country; and having ascertained that he is not married, and that +therefore his court is not a proper asylum for her in her feminine +character, she attires herself in the disguise of a page, as the best +protection against uncivil comments, till she can gain some tidings of +her brother. + +If we carry our thoughts back to a romantic and chivalrous age, there is +surely sufficient probability here for all the purposes of poetry. To +pursue the thread of Viola's destiny;--she is engaged in the service of +the Duke, whom she finds "fancy-sick" for the love of Olivia. We are +left to infer, (for so it is hinted in the first scene,) that this +Duke--who with his accomplishments, and his personal attractions, his +taste for music, his chivalrous tenderness, and his unrequited love, is +really a very fascinating and poetical personage, though a little +passionate and fantastic--had already made some impression on Viola's +imagination; and when she comes to play the confidante, and to be loaded +with favors and kindness in her assumed character, that she should be +touched by a passion made up of pity, admiration, gratitude, and +tenderness, does not, I think, in any way detract from the genuine +sweetness and delicacy of her character, for "_she never told her +love_." + +Now all this, as the critic wisely observes, may not present a very just +picture of life; and it may also fail to impart any moral lesson for the +especial profit of well-bred young ladies; but is it not in truth and in +nature? Did it ever fail to charm or to interest, to seize on the +coldest fancy, to touch the most insensible heart? + +Viola then is the chosen favorite of the enamoured Duke, and becomes his +messenger to Olivia, and the interpreter of his sufferings to that +inaccessible beauty. In her character of a youthful page, she attracts +the favor of Olivia, and excites the jealousy of her lord. The situation +is critical and delicate; but how exquisitely is the character of Viola +fitted to her part, carrying her through the ordeal with all the inward +and spiritual grace of modesty. What beautiful propriety in the +distinction drawn between Rosalind and Viola! The wild sweetness, the +frolic humor which sports free and unblamed amid the shades of Ardennes, +would ill become Viola, whose playfulness is assumed as part of her +disguise as a court-page, and is guarded by the strictest delicacy. She +has not, like Rosalind, a saucy enjoyment in her own incognito; her +disguise does not sit so easily upon her; her heart does not beat freely +under it. As in the old ballad, where "Sweet William" is detected +weeping in secret over her "man's array,"[36] so in Viola, a sweet +consciousness of her feminine nature is for ever breaking through her +masquerade:-- + + And on her cheek is ready with a blush + Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes + The youthful Phoebus. + +She plays her part well, but never forgets nor allows us to forget, that +she is playing a part. + + OLIVIA. + + Are you a comedian? + + VIOLA. + + No, my profound heart! and yet by the very fangs of + malice I swear, I am not that I play! + +And thus she comments on it:-- + + Disguise, I see thou art wickedness, + Wherein the pregnant enemy does much; + How easy is it for the proper false + In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! + Alas! our frailty is the cause, not we. + +The feminine cowardice of Viola, which will not allow her even to affect +a courage becoming her attire,--her horror at the idea of drawing a +sword, is very natural and characteristic; and produces a most humorous +effect, even at the very moment it charms and interests us. + +Contrasted with the deep, silent, patient love of Viola for the Duke, we +have the lady-like wilfulness of Olivia; and her sudden passion, or +rather fancy, for the disguised page, takes so beautiful a coloring of +poetry and sentiment, that we do not think her forward. Olivia is like a +princess of romance, and has all the privileges of one; she is, like +Portia, high born and high bred, mistress over her servants--but not +like Portia, "queen o'er herself." She has never in her life been +opposed; the first contradiction, therefore, rouses all the woman in +her, and turns a caprice into a headlong passion; yet she apologizes for +herself. + + I have said too much unto a heart of stone, + And laid mine honor too unchary out; + There's something in me that reproves my fault; + But such a headstrong potent fault it is, + That it but mocks reproof! + +And in the midst of her self-abandonment, never allows us to contemn, +even while we pity her:-- + + What shall you ask of me that I'll deny. + That honor, saved, may upon asking give? + +The distance of rank which separates the Countess from the youthful +page--the real sex of Viola--the dignified elegance of Olivia's +deportment, except where passion gets the better of her pride--her +consistent coldness towards the Duke--the description of that "smooth, +discreet, and stable bearing" with which she rules her household--her +generous care for her steward Malvolio, in the midst of her own +distress,--all these circumstances raise Olivia in our fancy, and render +her caprice for the page a source of amusement and interest, not a +subject of reproach. _Twelfth Night_ is a genuine comedy;--a perpetual +spring of the gayest and the sweetest fancies. In artificial society men +and women are divided into castes and classes, and it is rarely that +extremes in character or manners can approximate. To blend into one +harmonious picture the utmost grace and refinement of sentiment, and +the broadest effects of humor; the most poignant wit, and the most +indulgent benignity;--in short, to bring before us in the same scene, +Viola and Olivia, with Malvolio and Sir Toby, belonged only to Nature +and to Shakspeare. + + +OPHELIA. + +A woman's affections, however strong, are sentiments, when they run +smooth; and become passions only when opposed. + +In Juliet and Helena, love is depicted as a passion, properly so called; +that is, a natural impulse, throbbing in the heart's blood, and mingling +with the very sources of life;--a sentiment more or less modified by the +imagination; a strong abiding principle and motive, excited by +resistance, acting upon the will, animating all the other faculties, and +again influenced by them. This is the most complex aspect of love, and +in these two characters, it is depicted in colors at once the most +various, the most intense, and the most brilliant. + +In Viola and Perdita, love, being less complex, appears more refined; +more a sentiment than a passion--a compound of impulse and fancy, while +the reflective powers and moral energies are more faintly developed. The +same remark applies also to Julia and Silvia, in the Two Gentlemen of +Verona, and, in a greater degree, to Hermia and Helena in the Midsummer +Night's Dream. In the two latter, though perfectly discriminated, love +takes the visionary fanciful cast, which belongs to the whole piece; it +is scarcely a passion or a sentiment, but a dreamy enchantment, a +reverie, which a fairy spell dissolves or fixes at pleasure. + +But there was yet another possible modification of the sentiment, as +combined with female nature; and this Shakspeare has shown to us. He has +portrayed two beings, in whom all intellectual and moral energy is in a +manner latent, if existing; in whom love is an unconscious impulse, and +imagination lends the external charm and hue, not the internal power; in +whom the feminine character appears resolved into its very elementary +principles--as modesty, grace,[37] tenderness. _Without_ these a woman +is no woman, but a thing which, luckily, wants a name yet; _with_ these, +though every other faculty were passive or deficient, she might still be +herself. These are the inherent qualities with which God sent us into +the world: they may be perverted by a bad education--they may be +obscured by harsh and evil destinies--they may be overpowered by the +development of some particular mental power, the predominance of some +passion--but they are never wholly crushed out of the woman's soul, +while it retains those faculties which render it responsible to its +Creator. Shakspeare then has shown us that these elemental feminine +qualities, modesty, grace, tenderness, when expanded under genial +influences, suffice to constitute a perfect and happy human creature: +such is Miranda. When thrown alone amid harsh and adverse destinies, and +amid the trammels and corruptions of society, without energy to resist, +or will to act, or strength to endure, the end must needs be desolation. + +Ophelia--poor Ophelia! O far too soft, too good, too fair, to be cast +among the briers of this working-day world, and fall and bleed upon the +thorns of life! What shall be said of her? for eloquence is mute before +her! Like a strain of sad sweet music which comes floating by us on the +wings of night and silence, and which we rather feel than hear--like the +exhalation of the violet dying even upon the sense it charms--like the +snow-flake dissolved in air before it has caught a stain of earth--like +the light surf severed from the billow, which a breath disperses--such +is the character of Ophelia: so exquisitely delicate, it seems as if a +touch would profane it; so sanctified in our thoughts by the last and +worst of human woes, that we scarcely dare to consider it too deeply. +The love of Ophelia, which she never once confesses, is like a secret +which we have stolen from her, and which ought to die upon our hearts as +upon her own. Her sorrows ask not words but tears; and her madness has +precisely the same effect that would be produced by the spectacle of +real insanity, if brought before us: we feel inclined to turn away, and +veil our eyes in reverential pity and too painful sympathy. + +Beyond every character that Shakspeare has drawn, (Hamlet alone +excepted,) that of Ophelia makes us forget the poet in his own creation. +Whenever we bring her to mind, it is with the same exclusive sense of +her real existence, without reference to the wondrous power which called +her into life. The effect (and what an effect!) is produced by means so +simple, by strokes so few, and so unobtrusive, that we take no thought +of them. It is so purely natural and unsophisticated, yet so profound in +its pathos, that, as Hazlitt observes, it takes us back to the old +ballads; we forget that, in its perfect artlessness, it is the supreme +and consummate triumph of art. + +The situation of Ophelia in the story,[38] is that of a young girl who, +at an early age, is brought from a life of privacy into the circle of a +court--a court such as we read of in those early times, at once rude, +magnificent, and corrupted. She is placed immediately about the person +of the queen, and is apparently her favorite attendant. The affection +of the wicked queen for this gentle and innocent creature, is one of +those beautiful redeeming touches, one of those penetrating glances into +the secret springs of natural and feminine feeling which we find only in +Shakspeare. Gertrude, who is not so wholly abandoned but that there +remains within her heart some sense of the virtue she has forfeited, +seems to look with a kind yet melancholy complacency on the lovely being +she has destined for the bride of her son; and the scene in which she is +introduced as scattering flowers on the grave of Ophelia, is one of +those effects of contrast in poetry, in character and in feeling, at +once natural and unexpected; which fill the eye, and make the heart +swell and tremble within itself--like the nightingales singing in the +grove of the Furies in Sophocles.[39] + +Again, in the father of Ophelia, the Lord Chamberlain Polonius--the +shrewd, wary, subtle, pompous, garrulous old courtier--have we not the +very man who would send his son into the world to see all, learn all it +could teach of good and evil, but keep his only daughter as far as +possible from every taint of that world he knew so well? So that when +she is brought to the court, she seems in her loveliness and perfect +purity, like a seraph that had wandered out of bounds, and yet breathed +on earth the air of paradise. When her father and her brother find it +necessary to warn her simplicity, give her lessons of worldly wisdom, +and instruct her "to be scanter of her maiden presence," for that +Hamlet's vows of love "but breathe like sanctified and pious bonds, the +better to beguile," we feel at once that it comes too late; for from the +moment she appears on the scene amid the dark conflict of crime and +vengeance, and supernatural terrors, we know what must be her destiny. +Once, at Murano, I saw a dove caught in a tempest; perhaps it was young, +and either lacked strength of wing to reach its home, or the instinct +which teaches to shun the brooding storm; but so it was--and I watched +it, pitying, as it flitted, poor bird hither and thither, with its +silver pinions shining against the black thunder-cloud, till, after a +few giddy whirls, it fell blinded, affrighted, and bewildered, into the +turbid wave beneath, and was swallowed up forever. It reminded me then +of the fate of Ophelia; and now when I think of her, I see again before +me that poor dove, beating with weary wing, bewildered amid the storm. +It is the helplessness of Ophelia, arising merely from her innocence, +and pictured without any indication of weakness, which melts us with +such profound pity. She is so young, that neither her mind nor her +person have attained maturity; she is not aware of the nature of her own +feelings; they are prematurely developed in their full force before she +has strength to bear them; and love and grief together rend and shatter +the frail texture of her existence, like the burning fluid poured into a +crystal vase. She says very little, and what she does say seems rather +intended to hide than to reveal the emotions of her heart; yet in those +few words we are made as perfectly acquainted with her character, and +with what is passing in her mind, as if she had thrown forth her soul +with all the glowing eloquence of Juliet. Passion with Juliet seems +innate, a part of her being, "as dwells the gathered lightning in the +cloud;" and we never fancy her but with the dark splendid eyes and +Titian-like complexion of the south. While in Ophelia we recognize as +distinctly the pensive, fair-haired, blue-eyed daughter of the north, +whose heart seems to vibrate to the passion she has inspired, more +conscious of being loved than of loving; and yet, alas! loving in the +silent depths of her young heart far more than she is loved. + +When her brother warns her against Hamlet's importunities-- + + For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor, + Hold it a fashion, and a toy of blood, + A violet in the youth of primy nature, + Forward not permanent, sweet not lasting, + The perfume and the suppliance of a minute-- + No more! + +she replies with a kind of half consciousness-- + + No more but so? + + LAERTES. + + Think it no more. + +He concludes his admonition with that most beautiful passage, in which +the soundest sense, the most excellent advice, is conveyed in a strain +of the most exquisite poetry. + + The chariest maid is prodigal enough, + If she unmask her beauty to the moon: + Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes. + The canker galls the infants of the spring + Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd: + And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, + Contagious blastments are most imminent. + +She answers with the same modesty, yet with a kind of involuntary +avowal, that his fears are not altogether without cause:-- + + I shall the effect of this good lesson keep + As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, + Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, + Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; + Whilst, like the puff'd and reckless libertine, + Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, + And recks not his own read.[40] + +When her father, immediately afterwards, catechizes her on the same +subject, he extorts from her, in short sentences, uttered with bashful +reluctance, the confession of Hamlet's love for her, but not a word of +her love for him. The whole scene is managed with inexpressible +delicacy: it is one of those instances, common in Shakspeare, in which +we are allowed to perceive what is passing in the mind of a person, +without any consciousness on their part. Only Ophelia herself is unaware +that while she is admitting the extent of Hamlet's courtship, she is +also betraying how deep is the impression it has made, how entire the +love with which it is returned. + + POLONIUS. + + What is between you? give me up the truth! + + OPHELIA. + + He hath, my lord, of late, made many tenders + Of his affection to me. + + POLONIUS. + + Affection! poh! you speak like a green girl, + Unsifted in such perilous circumstances. + Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + + OPHELIA. + + I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + + POLONIUS. + + Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; + That you have taken these tenders for true pay + Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly + Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, + Wronging it thus) you'll tender me a fool. + + OPHELIA. + + My lord, he hath importun'd me with love + In honorable fashion. + + POLONIUS. + + Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + + OPHELIA. + + And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, + With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + + POLONIUS. + + Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. + This is for all: + would not, in plain terms, from this time forth + Have you so slander any moment's leisure + As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet, + Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + + OPHELIA. + + I shall obey, my lord. + +Besides its intrinsic loveliness, the character of Ophelia has a +relative beauty and delicacy when considered in relation to that of +Hamlet, which is the delineation of a man of genius in contest with the +powers of this world. The weakness of volition, the instability of +purpose, the contemplative sensibility, the subtlety of thought, always +shrinking from action, and always occupied in "thinking too precisely on +the event," united to immense intellectual power, render him unspeakably +interesting: and yet I doubt whether any woman, who would have been +capable of understanding and appreciating such a man, would have +passionately loved him. Let us for a moment imagine any one of +Shakspeare's most beautiful and striking female characters in immediate +connection with Hamlet. The gentle Desdemona would never have despatched +her household cares in haste, to listen to his philosophical +speculations, his dark conflicts with his own spirit. Such a woman as +Portia would have studied him; Juliet would have pitied him; Rosalind +would have turned him over with a smile to the melancholy Jacques; +Beatrice would have laughed at him outright; Isabel would have reasoned +with him; Miranda could but have wondered at him: but Ophelia loves him. +Ophelia, the young, fair, inexperienced girl, facile to every +impression, fond in her simplicity, and credulous in her innocence, +loves Hamlet; not from what he is in himself, but for that which appears +to her--the gentle, accomplished prince, upon whom she has been +accustomed to see all eyes fixed in hope and admiration, "the expectancy +and rose of the fair state," the star of the court in which she moves, +the first who has ever whispered soft vows in her ear: and what can be +more natural? + +But it is not singular, that while no one entertains a doubt of +Ophelia's love for Hamlet--though never once expressed by herself, or +asserted by others, in the whole course of the drama--yet it is a +subject of dispute whether Hamlet loves Ophelia, though she herself +allows that he had importuned her with love, and "had given countenance +to his suit with almost all the holy vows of heaven;" although in the +letter which Polonius intercepted, Hamlet declares that he loves her +"best, O most best!"--though he asserts himself, with the wildest +vehemence,-- + + I lov'd Ophelia; forty thousand brothers + Could not, with all their quantity of love, + Make up my sum: + +--still I have heard the question canvassed; I have even heard it denied +that Hamlet did love Ophelia. The author of the finest remarks I have +yet seen on the play and character of Hamlet, leans to this opinion. As +the observations I allude to are contained in a periodical publication, +and may not be at hand for immediate reference, I shall indulge myself +(and the reader no less) by quoting the opening paragraphs of this noble +piece of criticism, upon the principle, and for the reason I have +already stated in the introduction. + +"We take up a play, and ideas come rolling in upon us, like waves +impelled by a strong wind. There is in the ebb and flow of Shakspeare's +soul all the grandeur of a mighty operation of nature; and when we think +or speak of him, it should be with humility where we do not understand, +and a conviction that it is rather to the narrowness of our own mind +than to any failing in the art of the great magician, that we ought to +attribute any sense of weakness, which may assail us during the +contemplation of his created worlds. + +"Shakspeare himself, had he even been as great a critic as a poet, could +not have written a regular dissertation upon Hamlet. So ideal, and yet +so real an existence, could have been shadowed out only in the colors of +poetry. When a character deals solely or chiefly with this world and its +events when it acts and is acted upon by objects that have a palpable +existence, we see it distinctly, as if it were cast in a material mould, +as if it partook of the fixed and settled lineaments of the things on +which it lavishes its sensibilities and its passions. We see in such +cases the vision of an individual soul, as we see the vision of an +individual countenance. We can describe both, and can let a stranger +into our knowledge. But how tell in words, so pure, so fine, so ideal an +abstraction as Hamlet? We can, indeed, figure to ourselves generally his +princely form, that outshone all others in manly beauty, and adorn it +with the consummation of all liberal accomplishment. We can behold in +every look, every gesture, every motion, the future king,-- + + The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword, + Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state; + The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, + Th' observ'd of all observers. + +"But when we would penetrate into his spirit, meditate on those things +on which he meditates, accompany him even unto the brink of eternity, +fluctuate with him on the ghastly sea of despair, soar with him into the +purest and serenest regions of human thought, feel with him the curse of +beholding iniquity, and the troubled delight of thinking on innocence, +and gentleness, and beauty; come with him from all the glorious dreams +cherished by a noble spirit in the halls of wisdom and philosophy, of a +sudden into the gloomy courts of sin, and incest, and murder; shudder +with him over the broken and shattered fragments of all the fairest +creations of his fancy,--be borne with him at once, from calm, and +lofty, and delighted speculations, into the very heart of fear, and +horror, and tribulations,--have the agonies and the guilt of our mortal +world brought into immediate contact with the world beyond the grave, +and the influence of an awful shadow hanging forever on our +thoughts,--be present at a fearful combat between all the stirred-up +passions of humanity in the soul of man, a combat in which one and all +of these passions are alternately victorious and overcome; I say, that +when we are thus placed and acted upon, how is it possible to draw a +character of this sublime drama, or of the mysterious being who is its +moving spirit? In him, his character and situation, there is a +concentration of all the interests that belong to humanity. There is +scarcely a trait of frailty or of grandeur, which may have endeared to +us our most beloved friends in real life, that is not to be found in +Hamlet. Undoubtedly Shakspeare loved him beyond all his other creations. +Soon as he appears on the stage we are satisfied: when absent we long +for his return. This is the only play which exists almost altogether in +the character of one single person. Who ever knew a Hamlet in real life? +yet who, ideal as the character is, feels not its reality? This is the +wonder. We love him not, we think of him, not because he is witty, +because he was melancholy, because he was filial; but we love him +because he existed, and was himself. This is the sum total of the +impression. I believe that, of every other character either in tragic or +epic poetry, the story makes part of the conception; but of Hamlet, the +deep and permanent interest is the conception of himself. This seems to +belong, not to the character being more perfectly drawn, but to there +being a more intense conception of individual human life than perhaps +any other human composition. Here is a being with springs of thought, +and feeling, and action, deeper than we can search. These springs rise +from an unknown depth, and in that depth there seems to be a oneness of +being which we cannot distinctly behold, but which we believe to be +there; and thus irreconcilable circumstances, floating on the surface of +his actions, have not the effect of making us doubt the truth of the +general picture."[41] + +This is all most admirable, most eloquent, most true! but the critic +subsequently declares, that "there is nothing in Ophelia which could +make her the object of an engrossing passion to so majestic a spirit as +Hamlet." + +Now, though it be with reluctance, and even considerable mistrust of +myself, that I differ from a critic who can thus feel and write, I do +not think so:--I do think, with submission, that the love of Hamlet for +Ophelia is deep, is real, and is precisely the kind of love which such +a man as Hamlet would feel for such a woman as Ophelia. + +When the heathen would represent their Jove as clothed in all his +Olympian terrors, they mounted him on the back of an eagle, and armed +him with the lightnings; but when in Holy Writ the Supreme Being is +described as coming in his glory, He is upborne on the wings of +cherubim, and his emblem is the dove. Even so our blessed religion, +which has revealed deeper mysteries in the human soul than ever were +dreamt of by philosophy till she went hand-in-hand with faith, has +taught us to pay that worship to the symbols of purity and innocence, +which in darker times was paid to the manifestations of power: and +therefore do I think that the mighty intellect, the capacious, soaring, +penetrating genius of Hamlet may be represented, without detracting from +its grandeur, as reposing upon the tender virgin innocence of Ophelia, +with all that deep delight with which a superior nature contemplates the +goodness which is at once perfect in itself, and of itself unconscious. +That Hamlet regards Ophelia with this kind of tenderness,--that he loves +her with a love as intense as can belong to a nature in which there is, +(I think,) much more of contemplation and sensibility than action or +passion--is the feeling and conviction with which I have always read the +play of Hamlet. + +As to whether the mind of Hamlet be, or be not, touched with +madness--this is another point at issue among critics, philosophers, ay, +and physicians. To me it seems that he is not so far disordered as to +cease to be a responsible human being--that were too pitiable: but +rather that his mind is shaken from its equilibrium, and bewildered by +the horrors of his situation--horrors which his fine and subtle +intellect, his strong imagination, and his tendency to melancholy, at +once exaggerate, and take from him the power either to endure, or "by +opposing, end them." We do not see him as a lover, nor as Ophelia first +beheld him; for the days when he importuned her with love were before +the opening of the drama--before his father's spirit revisited the +earth; but we behold him at once in a sea of troubles, of perplexities, +of agonies, of terrors. Without remorse, he endures all its horrors; +without guilt, he endures all its shame. A loathing of the crime he is +called on to revenge, which revenge is again abhorrent to his nature, +has set him at strife with himself; the supernatural visitation has +perturbed his soul to its inmost depths; all things else, all interests, +all hopes, all affections, appear as futile, when the majestic shadow +comes lamenting from its place of torment "to shake him with thoughts +beyond the reaches of his soul!" His love for Ophelia is then ranked by +himself among those trivial, fond records which he has deeply sworn to +erase from his heart and brain. He has no thought to link his terrible +destiny with hers: he cannot marry her: he cannot reveal to her, young, +gentle, innocent as she is, the terrific influences which have changed +the whole current of his life and purposes. In his distraction he +overacts the painful part to which he had tasked himself; he is like +that judge of the Areopagus, who being occupied with graver matters, +flung from him the little bird which had sought refuge in his bosom, and +with such angry violence, that unwittingly he killed it. + +In the scene with Hamlet,[42] in which he madly outrages her and +upbraids himself, Ophelia says very little: there are two short +sentences in which she replies to his wild, abrupt discourse:-- + + HAMLET. + + I did love you once. + + OPHELIA. + + Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + + HAMLET. + + You should not have believed me: for virtue cannot so + inocculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it. I loved + you not. + + OPHELIA. + + I was the more deceived. + +Those who ever heard Mrs. Siddons read the play of Hamlet, cannot forget +the world of meaning, of love, of sorrow, of despair, conveyed in these +two simple phrases. Here, and in the soliloquy afterwards, where she +says,-- + + And I of ladies most deject and wretched, + That sucked the honey of his music vows, + +are the only allusions to herself and her own feelings in the course of +the play; and these, uttered almost without consciousness on her own +part, contain the revelation of a life of love, and disclose the secret +burthen of a heart bursting with its own unuttered grief. She believes +Hamlet crazed; she is repulsed, she is forsaken, she is outraged, where +she had bestowed her young heart, with all its hopes and wishes; her +father is slain by the hand of her lover, as it is supposed, in a +paroxysm of insanity: she is entangled inextricably in a web of horrors +which she cannot even comprehend, and the result seems inevitable. + +Of her subsequent madness, what can be said? What an affecting--what an +astonishing picture of a mind utterly, hopelessly wrecked!--past +hope--past cure! There is the frenzy of excited passion--there is the +madness caused by intense and continued thought--there is the delirium +of fevered nerves; but Ophelia's madness is distinct from these: it is +not the suspension, but the utter destruction of the reasoning powers; +it is the total imbecility which, as medical people well know, +frequently follows some terrible shock to the spirits. Constance is +frantic; Lear is mad; Ophelia is _insane_. Her sweet mind lies in +fragments before us--a pitiful spectacle! Her wild, rambling fancies; +her aimless, broken speeches; her quick transitions from gayety to +sadness--each equally purposeless and causeless; her snatches of old +ballads, such as perhaps her nurse sung her to sleep with in her +infancy--are all so true to the life, that we forget to wonder, and can +only weep. It belonged to Shakspeare alone so to temper such a picture +that we can endure to dwell upon it:-- + + Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, + She turns to favor and to prettiness. + +That in her madness she should exchange her bashful silence for empty +babbling, her sweet maidenly demeanor for the impatient restlessness +that spurns at straws, and say and sing precisely what she never would +or could have uttered had she been in possession of her reason, is so +far from being an impropriety, that it is an additional stroke of +nature. It is one of the symptoms of this species of insanity, as we are +assured by physicians. I have myself known one instance in the case of a +young Quaker girl, whose character resembled that of Ophelia, and whose +malady arose from a similar cause. + +The whole action of this play sweeps past us like a torrent, which +hurries along in its dark and resistless course all the personages of +the drama towards a catastrophe that is not brought about by human will, +but seems like an abyss ready dug to receive them, where the good and +the wicked are whelmed together.[43] As the character of Hamlet has been +compared, or rather contrasted, with the Greek Orestes, being like him, +called on to avenge a crime by a crime, tormented by remorseful doubts, +and pursued by distraction, so, to me, the character of Ophelia bears a +certain relation to that of the Greek Iphigenia,[44] with the same +strong distinction between the classical and the romantic conception of +the portrait. Iphigenia led forth to sacrifice, with her unresisting +tenderness, her mournful sweetness, her virgin innocence, is doomed to +perish by that relentless power, which has linked her destiny with +crimes and contests, in which she has no part but as a sufferer; and +even so, poor Ophelia, "divided from herself and her fair judgment," +appears here like a spotless victim offered up to the mysterious and +inexorable fates. + +"For it is the property of crime to extend its mischiefs over innocence, +as it is of virtue to extend its blessings over many that deserve them +not, while frequently the author of one or the other is not, as far as +we can see, either punished or rewarded."[45] But there's a heaven above +us! + + +MIRANDA. + +We might have deemed it impossible to go beyond Viola, Perdita, and +Ophelia, as pictures of feminine beauty; to exceed the one in tender +delicacy, the other in ideal grace, and the last in simplicity,--if +Shakspeare had not done this; and he alone could have done it. Had he +never created a Miranda, we should never have been made to feel how +completely the purely natural and the purely ideal can blend into each +other. + +The character of Miranda resolves itself into the very elements of +womanhood. She is beautiful, modest, and tender, and she is these only; +they comprise her whole being, external and internal. She is so +perfectly unsophisticated, so delicately refined, that she is all but +ethereal. Let us imagine any other woman placed beside Miranda--even one +of Shakspeare's own loveliest and sweetest creations--there is not one +of them that could sustain the comparison for a moment; not one that +would not appear somewhat coarse or artificial when brought into +immediate contact with this pure child of nature, this "Eve of an +enchanted Paradise." + +What, then, has Shakspeare done?--"O wondrous skill and sweet wit of the +man!"--he has removed Miranda far from all comparison with her own sex; +he has placed her between the demi-demon of earth and the delicate +spirit of air. The next step is into the ideal and supernatural; and the +only being who approaches Miranda, with whom she can be contrasted, is +Ariel. Beside the subtle essence of this ethereal sprite, this creature +of elemental light and air, that "ran upon the winds, rode the curl'd +clouds, and in the colors of the rainbow lived," Miranda herself appears +a palpable reality; a woman, "breathing thoughtful breath," a woman, +walking the earth in her mortal loveliness, with a heart as +frail-strung, as passion-touched, as ever fluttered in a female bosom. + +I have said that Miranda possesses merely the elementary attributes of +womanhood, but each of these stand in her with a distinct and peculiar +grace. She resembles nothing upon earth; but do we therefore compare +her, in our own minds, with any of those fabled beings with which the +fancy of ancient poets peopled the forest depths, the fountain or the +ocean?--oread or dryad fleet, sea-maid, or naiad of the stream? We +cannot think of them together. Miranda is a consistent, natural, human +being. Our impression of her nymph-like beauty, her peerless grace, and +purity of soul, has a distinct and individual character. Not only is she +exquisitely lovely, being what she is, but we are made to feel that she +_could_ not possibly be otherwise than as she is portrayed. She has +never beheld one of her own sex; she has never caught from society one +imitated or artificial grace. The impulses which have come to her, in +her enchanted solitude, are of heaven and nature, not of the world and +its vanities. She has sprung up into beauty beneath the eye of her +father, the princely magician; her companions have been the rocks and +woods, the many-shaped, many-tinted clouds, and the silent stars; her +playmates the ocean billows, that stooped their foamy crests, and ran +rippling to kiss her feet. Ariel and his attendant sprites hovered over +her head, ministered duteous to her every wish, and presented before +her pageants of beauty and grandeur. The very air, made vocal by her +father's art, floated in music around her. If we can presuppose such a +situation with all its circumstances, do we not behold in the character +of Miranda not only the credible, but the natural, the necessary results +of such a situation? She retains her woman's heart, for that is +unalterable and inalienable, as a part of her being; but her deportment, +her looks, her language, her thoughts--all these, from the supernatural +and poetical circumstances around her, assume a cast of the pure ideal; +and to us, who are in the secret of her human and pitying nature, +nothing can be more charming and consistent than the effect which she +produces upon others, who never having beheld any thing resembling her, +approach her as "a wonder," as something celestial:-- + + Be sure! the goddess on whom these airs attend! + +And again:-- + + What is this maid? + Is she the goddess who hath severed us, + And brought us thus together? + +And Ferdinand exclaims, while gazing on her, + + My spirits as in a dream are all bound up! + My father's loss, the weakness that I feel, + The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats, + To whom I am subdued, are but light to me + Might I but through my prison once a day + Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth + Let liberty make use of, space enough + Have I in such a prison. + +Contrasted with the impression of her refined and dignified beauty, and +its effect on all beholders, is Miranda's own soft simplicity, her +virgin innocence, her total ignorance of the conventional forms and +language of society. It is most natural that in a being thus +constituted, the first tears should spring from compassion, "suffering +with those that she saw suffer:"-- + + O the cry did knock + Against my very heart. Poor souls! they perished. + Had I been any god of power, I would + Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er + It should the good ship so have swallowed, + And the freighting souls within her; + +and that her first sigh should be offered to a love at once fearless and +submissive, delicate and fond. She has no taught scruples of honor like +Juliet; no coy concealments like Viola; no assumed dignity standing in +its own defence. Her bashfulness is less a quality than an instinct; it +is like the self-folding of a flower, spontaneous and unconscious. I +suppose there is nothing of the kind in poetry equal to the scene +between Ferdinand and Miranda. In Ferdinand, who is a noble creature, we +have all the chivalrous magnanimity with which man, in a high state of +civilization, disguises his real superiority, and does humble homage to +the being of whose destiny he disposes; while Miranda, the mere child of +nature, is struck with wonder at her own new emotions. Only conscious of +her own weakness as a woman, and ignorant of those usages of society +which teach us to dissemble the real passion, and assume (and sometimes +abuse) an unreal and transient power, she is equally ready to place her +life, her love, her service beneath his feet. + + MIRANDA. + + Alas, now! pray you, + Work not so hard: I would the lightning had + Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoined to pile! + Pray set it down and rest you: when this burns, + 'Twill weep for having weary'd you. My father + Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself: + He's safe for these three hours. + + FERDINAND. + + O most dear mistress, + The sun will set before I shall discharge + What I must strive to do. + + MIRANDA. + + If you'll sit down, + I'll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that, + I'll carry it to the pile. + + FERDINAND. + + No, precious creature; + I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, + Than you should such dishonor undergo, + While I sit lazy by. + + MIRANDA. + + It would become me + As well as it does you; and I should do it + With much more ease; for my good will is to it, + And yours against. + + * * * * + + MIRANDA. + + You look wearily. + + FERDINAND. + + No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me + When you are by at night. I do beseech you, + (Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,) + What is your name? + + MIRANDA. + + Miranda. O my father + I have broke your 'hest to say so! + + FERDINAND. + + Admir'd Miranda! + Indeed the top of admiration; worth + What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady + I have eyed with best regard: and many a time + The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage + Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues + Have I liked several women; never any + With so full soul, but some defect in her + Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed + And put it to the foil. But you, O you, + So perfect and so peerless, are created + Of every creature's best! + + MIRANDA. + + I do not know + One of my sex: no woman's face remember, + Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen + Mere that I may call men, than you, good friend, + And my dear father. How features are abroad + I am skill-less of: but, by my modesty, + (The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish + Any companion in the world but you; + Nor can imagination form a shape, + Besides yourself, to like of--But I prattle + Something too wildly, and my father's precepts + Therein forget. + + FERDINAND. + + I am, in my condition + A prince, Miranda--I do think a king-- + (I would, not so!) and would no more endure + This wooden slavery, than I would suffer + The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak + The very instant that I saw you, did + My heart fly to your service; there resides, + To make me slave to it; and for your sake, + Am I this patient log-man. + + MIRANDA. + + Do you love me? + + FERDINAND. + + O heaven! O earth! bear witness to this sound + And crown what I profess with kind event, + If I speak true: if hollowly, invert + What best is boded me, to mischief! I, + Beyond all limit of what else i' the world, + Do love, prize, honor you. + + MIRANDA. + + I am a fool, + To weep at what I am glad of. + + FERDINAND. + + Wherefore weep you + + MIRANDA. + + At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer + What I desire to give; and much less take, + What I shall die to want--But this is trifling: + And all the more it seeks to hide itself, + The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning; + And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! + I am your wife, if you will marry me; + If not I'll die your maid: to be your fellow + You may deny me; but I'll be your servant + Whether you will or no! + + FERDINAND. + + My mistress, dearest! + And I thus humble ever. + + MIRANDA. + + My husband, then? + + FERDINAND. + + Ay, with a heart as willing, + As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand. + + MIRANDA. + + And mine with my heart in it. And now farewell + Till half an hour hence. + +As Miranda, being what she is, could only have had a Ferdinand for a +lover, and an Ariel for her attendant, so she could have had with +propriety no other father than the majestic and gifted being, who fondly +claims her as "a thread of his own life--nay, that for which he lives." +Prospero, with his magical powers, his superhuman wisdom, his moral +worth and grandeur, and his kingly dignity, is one of the most sublime +visions that ever swept with ample robes, pale brow, and sceptred hand, +before the eye of fancy. He controls the invisible world, and works +through the agency of spirits: not by any evil and forbidden compact, +but solely by superior might of intellect--by potent spells gathered +from the lore of ages, and abjured when he mingles again as a man with +his fellow men. He is as distinct a being from the necromancers and +astrologers celebrated in Shakspeare's age, as can well be imagined:[46] +and all the wizards of poetry and fiction, even Faust and St. Leon, sink +into common-places before the princely, the philosophic, the benevolent +Prospero. + +The Bermuda Isles, in which Shakspeare has placed the scene of the +Tempest, were discovered in his time: Sir George Somers and his +companions having been wrecked there in a terrible storm,[47] brought +back a most fearful account of those unknown islands, which they +described as "a land of devils--a most prodigious and enchanted place, +subject to continual tempests and supernatural visitings." Such was the +idea entertained of the "still-vext Bermoothes" in Shakspeare's age; but +later travellers describe them as perfect regions of enchantment in a +far different sense; as so many fairy Edens, clustered like a knot of +gems upon the bosom of the Atlantic, decked out in all the lavish +luxuriance of nature, with shades of myrtle and cedar, fringed round +with groves of coral; in short, each island a tiny paradise, rich with +perpetual blossoms, in which Ariel might have slumbered, and +ever-verdant bowers, in which Ferdinand and Miranda might have strayed: +so that Shakspeare, in blending the wild relations of the shipwrecked +mariners with his own inspired fancies, has produced nothing, however +lovely in nature and sublime in magical power, which does not harmonize +with the beautiful and wondrous reality. + +There is another circumstance connected with the Tempest, which is +rather interesting. It was produced and acted for the first time upon +the occasion of the nuptials of the Princess Elizabeth, the eldest +daughter of James I. with Frederic, the elector palatine. It is hardly +necessary to remind the reader of the fate of this amiable but most +unhappy woman, whose life, almost from the period of her marriage, was +one long tempestuous scene of trouble and adversity. + + * * * * * + +The characters which I have here classed together, as principally +distinguished by the predominance of passion and fancy, appear to me to +rise, in the scale of ideality and simplicity, from Juliet to Miranda; +the last being in comparison so refined, so elevated above all stain of +earth, that we can only acknowledge her in connection with it through +the emotions of sympathy she feels and inspires. + +I remember, when I was in Italy, standing "at evening on the top of +Fiesole," and at my feet I beheld the city of Florence and the Val +d'Arno, with its villas, its luxuriant gardens, groves, and olive +grounds, all bathed in crimson light. A transparent vapor or exhalation, +which in its tint was almost as rich as the pomegranate flower, moving +with soft undulation, rolled through the valley, and the very earth +seemed to pant with warm life beneath its rosy veil. A dark purple +shade, the forerunner of night, was already stealing over the east; in +the western sky still lingered the blaze of the sunset, while the faint +perfume of trees, and flowers, and now and then a strain of music wafted +upwards, completed the intoxication of the senses. But I looked from the +earth to the sky, and immediately above this scene hung the soft +crescent moon--alone, with all the bright heaven to herself; and as that +sweet moon to the glowing landscape beneath it, such is the character of +Miranda compared to that of Juliet. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[17] Lord Byron remarked of the Italian women, (and he could speak _avec +connaissance de fait_,) that they are the only women in the world +capable of impressions, at once very sudden and very durable; which, he +adds, is to be found in no other nation. Mr. Moore observes afterwards, +how completely an Italian woman, either from nature or her social +position, is led to invert the usual course of frailty among ourselves, +and, weak in resisting the first impulses of passion, to reserve the +whole strength of her character for a display of constancy and +devotedness afterwards.--Both these traits of national character are +exemplified in Juliet--_Moore's Life of Byron_, vol. ii. pp. 303, 338. +4to edit. + +[18] _La seve de la vie_, is an expression used somewhere by Madame de +Stael. + +[19] Characters of Shakspeare's Plays. + +[20] I must allude, but with reluctance, to another character, which I +have heard likened to Juliet, and often quoted as the heroine _par +excellence_ of amatory fiction--I mean the Julie of Rousseau's Nouvelle +Heloise; I protest against her altogether. As a creation of fancy the +portrait is a compound of the most gross and glaring inconsistencies; as +false and impossible to the reflecting and philosophical mind, as the +fabled Syrens, Hamatryads and Centaurs to the eye of the anatomist. As a +woman, Julie belongs neither to nature nor to artificial society; and if +the pages of melting and dazzling eloquence in which Rousseau has +garnished out his idol did not blind and intoxicate us, as the incense +and the garlands did the votaries of Isis, we should be disgusted. +Rousseau, having composed his Julie of the commonest clay of the earth, +does not animate her with fire from heaven, but breathes his own spirit +into her, and then calls the "impetticoated" paradox a _woman_. He makes +her a peg on which to hang his own visions and sentiments--and what +sentiments! but that I fear to soil my pages, I would pick out a few of +them, and show the difference between this strange combination of youth +and innocence, philosophy and pedantry, sophistical prudery, and +detestable _grossierete_, and our own Juliet. No! if we seek a French +Juliet, we must go far--far back to the real Heloise, to her eloquence, +her sensibility, her fervor of passion, her devotedness of truth. She, +at least, married the man she loved, and loved the man she married, and +more than died for him; but enough of both. + +[21] Constant describes her beautifully--"Sa voix si douce au travers le +bruit des armes, sa forme delicate au milieu de cet hommes tous couverts +de fer, la purete de son ame opposee leurs calculs avides, son calme +celeste qui contraste avec leurs agitations, remplissent le spectateur +d'une emotion constante et melancolique, telle que ne la fait ressentir +nulle tragedie ordinaire." + +[22] Coleridge--preface to Wallenstein. + +[23] In the "Two Gentlemen of Verona." + +[24] There is an allusion to this court language of love in "All Well +that Ends Well," where Helena says,-- + + There shall your master have a thousand loves-- + A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign; + A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear, + His humble ambition, proud humility, + His jarring concord, and his discord dulcut, + His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world + Of pretty fond adoptious Christendoms + That blinking Cupid gossips.--ACT I SCENE 1 + +The courtly poets of Elizabeth's time, who copied the Italian +sonnetteers of the sixteenth century, are full of these quaint conceits. + +[25] Since this was written, I have met with some remarks of a similar +tendency in that most interesting book, "The Life of Lord E. +Fitzgerald." + +[26] Juliet, courageously drinking off the potion, after she has placed +before herself in the most fearful colors all its possible consequences, +is compared by Schlegel to the famous story of Alexander and his +physician. + +[27] + + Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together + Thoughts so all unlike each other; + To mutter and mock a broken charm, + To dally with wrong that does no harm! + Perhaps 'tis tender, too, and pretty, + At each wild word to feel within + A sweet recoil of love and pity. + And what if in a world of sin + (O sorrow and shame should this be true!) + Such giddiness of heart and brain + Comes seldom save from rage and pain, + So talks as it's most used to do? + + COLERIDGE. + +These lines seem to me to form the truest comment on Juliet's wild +exclamations against Romeo. + +[28] "The censure," observes Schlegel, "originates in a fanciless way of +thinking, to which every thing appears unnatural that does not suit its +tame insipidity. Hence an idea has been formed of simple and natural +pathos which consists in exclamations destitute of imagery, and nowise +elevated above every-day life; but energetic passions electrify the +whole mental powers and will, consequently, in highly-favored natures, +express themselves in an ingenious and figurative manner." + +[29] The "Giulietta" of Luigi da Porta was written about 1520. In a +popular little book published in 1565, thirty years before Shakspeare +wrote his tragedy, the name of Juliet occurs as an example of faithful +love, and is thus explained by a note in the margin. "Juliet, a noble +maiden of the citie of Verona, which loved Romeo, eldest son of the Lord +Monteschi; and being privily married together, he at last poisoned +himself for love of her: she, for sorrow of his death, slew herself with +his dagger." This note, which furnishes, in brief, the whole argument of +Shakspeare's play, might possibly have made the first impression on his +fancy. In the novel of Da Porta the catastrophe is altogether different. +After the death of Romeo, the Friar Lorenzo endeavors to persuade Juliet +to leave the fatal monument. She refuses; and throwing herself back on +the dead body of her husband, she resolutely holds her breath and +dies.--"E voltatasi al giacente corpo di Romeo, il cui capo sopra un +origliere, che con lei uell' arca era stato lasciato, posto aveva; gli +occhi meglio rinchiusi avendogli, e di lagrime il freddo volto +bagnandogli, disse;" Che debbo senza di te in vita piu fare, signor mio? +e che altro mi resta verso te se non colla mia morte seguirti? "E detto +questo, la sua gran sciagura nell' animo recatasi, e la perdita del caro +amante ricordandosi, deliberando di piu non vivere, raccolto a se il +fiato, e per buono spazio tenutolo, e poscia con un gran grido fuori +mandandolo, sopra il morto corpo, morta ricadde." + +There is nothing so improbable in the story of Romeo and Juliet as to +make us doubt the tradition that it is a real fact. "The Veronese," says +Lord Byron, in one of his letters from Verona, "are tenacious to a +degree of the truth of Juliet's story, insisting on the fact, giving the +date 1303, and showing a tomb. It is a plain, open, and partly decayed +sarcophagus, with withered leaves in it, in a wild and desolate +conventual garden--once a cemetery, now ruined, to the very graves! The +situation struck me as very appropriate to the legend, being blighted as +their love." He might have added, that when Verona itself, with its +amphitheatre and its Paladian structures, lies level with the earth, the +very spot on which it stood will be consecrated by the memory of Juliet. + +When in Italy, I met a gentleman, who being then "_dans le genre +romantique_," wore a fragment of Juliet's tomb set in a ring. + +[30] Foster's Essays + +[31] I have read somewhere that the play of which Helena is the heroine, +(All's Well that Ends Well,) was at first entitled by Shakspeare "Love's +Labor Won." Why the title was altered or by whom I cannot discover. + +[32] i. e. I care as much for as I do for heaven. + +[33] New Monthly Magazine, vol. iv. + +[34] Percy's Reliques. + +[35] i. e. _canzons_, songs + +[36] Percy's Reliques, vol. iii.--see the ballad of the "Lady turning +Serving Man." + +[37] By this word, as used here, I would be understood to mean that +inexpressible something within the soul, which tends to the good, the +beautiful, the true, and is the antipodes to the vulgar, the violent, +and the false;--that which we see diffused externally over the form and +movements, where there is perfect innocence and unconsciousness, as in +children. + +[38] _i. e._ In the story of the drama; for in the original "History of +Amleth the Dane," from which Shakspeare drew his materials, there is a +woman introduced who is employed as an instrument to seduce Amleth, but +not even the germ of the character of Ophelia. + +[39] In the Oedipus Coloneus + +[40] "And recks not his own read," _i. e._ heeds not his own lesson. + +[41] Blackwood's Magazine, vol. 11. + +[42] Act iii. scene 1. + +[43] Goethe. See the analysis of Hamlet in Wilhelm Meister + +[44] The Iphigenia in Aulis of Euripides. + +[45] Goethe + +[46] Such as Cornelius Agrippa, Michael Scott, Dr. Dee. The last was the +contemporary of Shakspeare. + +[47] In 1609, about three years before Shakspeare produced the Tempest, +which, though placed first in all the editions of his works, was one of +the last of his dramas. + + + + +CHARACTERS OF THE AFFECTIONS + + +HERMIONE. + +Characters in which the affections and the moral qualities predominate +over fancy and all that bears the name of passion, are not, when we meet +with them in real life, the most striking and interesting, nor the +easiest to be understood and appreciated; but they are those on which, +in the long run, we repose with increasing confidence and ever-new +delight. Such characters are not easily exhibited in the colors of +poetry, and when we meet with them there, we are reminded of the effect +of Raffaelle's pictures. Sir Joshua Reynolds assures us, that it took +him three weeks to discover the beauty of the frescos in the Vatican; +and many, if they spoke the truth, would prefer one of Titian's or +Murillo's Virgins to one of Raffaelle's heavenly Madonnas. The less +there is of marked expression or vivid color in a countenance or +character, the more difficult to delineate it in such a manner as to +captivate and interest us: but when this is done, and done to +perfection, it is the miracle of poetry in painting, and of painting in +poetry. Only Raffaelle and Correggio have achieved it in one case, and +only Shakspeare in the other. + +When, by the presence or the agency of some predominant and exciting +power, the feelings and affections are upturned from the depths of the +heart, and flung to the surface, the painter or the poet has but to +watch the workings of the passions, thus in a manner made visible, and +transfer them to his page or his canvas, in colors more or less +vigorous: but where all is calm without and around, to dive into the +profoundest abysses of character, trace the affections where they lie +hidden like the ocean springs, wind into the most intricate involutions +of the heart, patiently unravel its most delicate fibres, and in a few +graceful touches place before us the distinct and visible result,--to do +this demanded power of another and a rarer kind. + +There are several of Shakspeare's characters which are especially +distinguished by this profound feeling in the conception, and subdued +harmony of tone in the delineation. To them may be particularly applied +the ingenious simile which Goethe has used to illustrate generally all +Shakspeare's characters, when he compares them to the old-fashioned +batches in glass cases, which not only showed the index pointing to the +hour, but the wheels and springs within, which set that index in motion. + +Imogen, Desdemona, and Hermione, are three women placed in situations +nearly similar, and equally endowed with all the qualities which can +render that situation striking and interesting. They are all gentle, +beautiful, and innocent; all are models of conjugal submission, truth, +and tenderness, and all are victims of the unfounded jealousy of their +husbands. So far the parallel is close, but here the resemblance ceases; +the circumstances of each situation are varied with wonderful skill, and +the characters, which are as different as it is possible to imagine, +conceived and discriminated with a power of truth and a delicacy of +feeling yet more astonishing. + +Critically speaking, the character of Hermione is the most simple in +point of dramatic effect, that of Imogen is the most varied and complex. +Hermione is most distinguished by her magnanimity and her fortitude, +Desdemona by her gentleness and refined grace, while Imogen combines all +the best qualities of both, with others which they do not possess; +consequently she is, as a character, superior to either; but considered +as women, I suppose the preference would depend on individual taste. + +Hermione is the heroine of the first three acts of the Winter's Tale. +She is the wife of Leontes, king of Sicilia, and though in the prime of +beauty and womanhood, is not represented in the first bloom of youth. +Her husband on slight grounds suspects her of infidelity with his friend +Polixenes, king of Bohemia; the suspicion once admitted, and working on +a jealous, passionate, and vindictive mind, becomes a settled and +confirmed opinion. Hermione is thrown into a dungeon; her new-born +infant is taken from her, and by the order of her husband, frantic with +jealousy, exposed to death on a desert shore; she is herself brought to +a public trial for treason and incontinency, defends herself nobly, and +is pronounced innocent by the oracle. But at the very moment that she is +acquitted, she learns the death of the prince her son, who + + Conceiving the dishonor of his mother, + Had straight declined, drooped, took it deeply, + Fastened and fixed the shame on't in himself, + Threw off his spirit, appetite, and sleep, + And downright languished. + +She swoons away with grief, and her supposed death concludes the third +act. The last two acts are occupied with the adventures of her daughter +Perdita; and with the restoration of Perdita to the arms of her mother, +and the reconciliation of Hermione and Leontes, the piece concludes. + +Such, in few words, is the dramatic situation. The character of Hermione +exhibits what is never found in the other sex, but rarely in our +own--yet sometimes;--dignity without pride, love without passion, and +tenderness without weakness. To conceive a character in which there +enters so much of the negative, required perhaps no rare and astonishing +effort of genius, such as created a Juliet, a Miranda, or a Lady +Macbeth; but to delineate such a character in the poetical form, to +develop it through the medium of action and dialogue, without the aid of +description: to preserve its tranquil, mild, and serious beauty, its +unimpassioned dignity, and at the same time keep the strongest hold upon +our sympathy and our imagination; and out of this exterior calm, +produce the most profound pathos, the most vivid impression of life and +internal power:--it is this which renders the character of Hermione one +of Shakspeare's masterpieces. + +Hermione is a queen, a matron, and a mother: she is good and beautiful, +and royally descended. A majestic sweetness, a grand and gracious +simplicity, an easy, unforced, yet dignified self-possession, are in all +her deportment, and in every word she utters. She is one of those +characters, of whom it has been said proverbially, that "still waters +run deep." Her passions are not vehement, but in her settled mind the +sources of pain or pleasure, love or resentment, are like the springs +that feed the mountain lakes, impenetrable, unfathomable, and +inexhaustible. + +Shakspeare has conveyed (as is his custom) a part of the character of +Hermione in scattered touches and through the impressions which she +produces on all around her. Her surpassing beauty is alluded to in few +but strong terms:-- + + This jealousy + Is for a precious creature; as she is rare + Must it be great. + Praise her but for this her out-door form, + 'Which, on my faith, deserves high speech--' + + If one by one you wedded all the world, + Or from the all that are, took something good + To make a perfect woman; she you killed + Would be unparalleled. + + I might have looked upon my queen's full eyes, + Have taken treasure from her lips-- + --and left them + More rich for what they yielded. + +The expressions "most sacred lady," "dread mistress," "sovereign," with +which she is addressed or alluded to, the boundless devotion and respect +of those around her, and their confidence in her goodness and innocence, +are so many additional strokes in the portrait. + + For her, my lord, + I dare my life lay down, and will do't, sir, + Please you t' accept it, that the queen is spotless + I' the eyes of heaven, and to you. + + Every inch of woman in the world, + Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false, + If she be so. + I would not be a stander-by to hear + My sovereign mistress clouded so, without + My present vengeance taken! + +The mixture of playful courtesy, queenly dignity, and lady-like +sweetness, with which she prevails on Polixenes to prolong his visit, is +charming. + + HERMIONE. + + You'll stay! + + POLIXENES. + + No, madam. + + HERMIONE. + + Nay, but you will. + + POLIXENES. + + I may not, verily. + + + HERMIONE. + + Verily! + You put me off with limber vows; but I, + Tho' you would seek t' unsphere the stars with oaths + Should still say, "Sir, no going!" Verily, + You shall _not_ go! A lady's verily is + As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? + Force me to keep you as a prisoner, + Not like a guest? + +And though the situation of Hermione admits but of few general +reflections, one little speech, inimitably beautiful and characteristic, +has become almost proverbial from its truth. She says:-- + + One good deed, dying tongueless, + Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that. + Our praises are our wages; you may ride us + With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere + With spur we heat an acre. + +She receives the first intimation of her husband's jealous suspicions +with incredulous astonishment. It is not that, like Desdemona, she does +not or cannot understand; but she _will_ not. When he accuses her more +plainly, she replies with a calm dignity:-- + + Should a villain say so-- + The most replenished villain in the world-- + He were as much more villain: you, my lord, + Do but mistake. + +This characteristic composure of temper never forsakes her; and yet it +is so delineated that the impression is that of grandeur, and never +borders upon pride or coldness: it is the fortitude of a gentle but a +strong mind, conscious of its own innocence. Nothing can be more +affecting than her calm reply to Leontes, who, in his jealous rage, +heaps insult upon insult, and accuses her before her own attendants, as +no better "than one of those to whom the vulgar give bold titles." + + How will this grieve you, + When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that + You have thus published me! Gentle my lord, + You scarce can right me thoroughly then, to say + You _did_ mistake. + +Her mild dignity and saint-like patience, combined as they are with the +strongest sense of the cruel injustice of her husband, thrill us with +admiration as well as pity; and we cannot but see and feel, that for +Hermione to give way to tears and feminine complaints under such a blow, +would be quite incompatible with the character. Thus she says of +herself, as she is led to prison:-- + + There's some ill planet reigns: + I must be patient till the heavens look + With an aspect more favorable. Good my lords, + I am not prone to weeping, as our sex + Commonly are; the want of which vain dew + Perchance shall dry your pities; but I have + That honorable grief lodged here, that burns + Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords + With thought so qualified as your charities + Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so + The king's will be performed. + +When she is brought to trial for supposed crimes, called on to defend +herself, "standing to prate and talk for life and honor, before who +please to come and hear," the sense of her ignominious situation--all +its shame and all its horror press upon her, and would apparently crush +even _her_ magnanimous spirit, but for the consciousness of her own +worth and innocence, and the necessity that exists for asserting and +defending both. + + If powers divine + Behold our human actions, (as they do), + I doubt not, then, but innocence shall make + False accusation blush, and tyranny + Tremble at patience. + + * * * * + + For life, I prize it + As I weigh grief, which I would spare. For honor-- + 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, + And only that I stand for. + +Her earnest, eloquent justification of herself, and her lofty sense of +female honor, are rendered more affecting and impressive by that +chilling despair that contempt for a life which has been made bitter to +her through unkindness, which is betrayed in every word of her speech, +though so calmly characteristic. When she enumerates the unmerited +insults which have been heaped upon her, it is without asperity or +reproach, yet in a tone which shows how completely the iron has entered +her soul. Thus, when Leontes threatens her with death:-- + + Sir, spare your threats; + The bug which you would fright me with, I seek. + To me can life be no commodity; + The crown and comfort of my life, your favor, + I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, + But know not how it went. My second joy, + The first-fruits of my body, from his presence + I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort-- + Starr'd most unluckily!--is from my breast, + The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth, + Haled out to murder. Myself on every post + Proclaimed a strumpet; with immodest hatred, + The childbed privilege denied, which 'longs + To women of all fashion. Lastly, hurried + Here to this place, i' the open air, before + I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, + Tell me what blessings I have here alive, + That I should fear to die. Therefore, proceed, + But yet hear this; mistake me not. No! life, + I prize it not a straw:--but for mine honor. + (Which I would free,) if I shall be condemned + Upon surmises; all proof sleeping else, + But what your jealousies awake; I tell you, + 'Tis rigor and not law. + +The character of Hermione is considered open to criticism on one point. +I have heard it remarked that when she secludes herself from the world +for sixteen years, during which time she is mourned as dead by her +repentant husband, and is not won to relent from her resolve by his +sorrow, his remorse, his constancy to her memory; such conduct, argues +the critic, is unfeeling as it is inconceivable in a tender and virtuous +woman. Would Imogen have done so, who is so generously ready to grant a +pardon before it be asked? or Desdemona, who does not forgive because +she cannot even resent? No, assuredly; but this is only another proof of +the wonderful delicacy and consistency with which Shakspeare has +discriminated the characters of all three. The incident of Hermione's +supposed death and concealment for sixteen years, is not indeed very +probable in itself, nor very likely to occur in every-day life. But +besides all the probability necessary for the purposes of poetry, it has +all the likelihood it can derive from the peculiar character of +Hermione, who is precisely the woman who could and would have acted in +this manner. In such a mind as hers, the sense of a cruel injury, +inflicted by one she had loved and trusted, without awakening any +violent anger or any desire of vengeance, would sink deep--almost +incurably and lastingly deep. So far she is most unlike either Imogen or +Desdemona, who are portrayed as much more flexible in temper; but then +the circumstances under which she is wronged are very different, and far +more unpardonable. The self-created, frantic jealousy of Leontes is very +distinct from that of Othello, writhing under the arts of Iago: or that +of Posthumus, whose understanding has been cheated by the most damning +evidence of his wife's infidelity. The jealousy which in Othello and +Posthumus is an error of judgment, in Leontes is a vice of the blood; +he suspects without cause, condemns without proof; he is without +excuse--unless the mixture of pride, passion, and imagination, and the +predisposition to jealousy with which Shakspeare has portrayed him, be +considered as an excuse. Hermione has been openly insulted: he to whom +she gave herself, her heart, her soul, has stooped to the weakness and +baseness of suspicion; has doubted her truth, has wronged her love, has +sunk in her esteem, and forfeited her confidence. She has been branded +with vile names; her son, her eldest hope, is dead--dead through the +false accusation which has stuck infamy on his mother's name; and her +innocent babe, stained with illegitimacy, disowned and rejected, has +been exposed to a cruel death. Can we believe that the mere tardy +acknowledgment of her innocence could make amends for wrongs and agonies +such as these? or heal a heart which must have bled inwardly, consumed +by that untold grief, "which burns worse than tears drown?" Keeping in +view the peculiar character of Hermione, such as she is delineated, is +she one either to forgive hastily or forget quickly? and though she +might, in her solitude, mourn over her repentant husband, would his +repentance suffice to restore him at once to his place in her heart: to +efface from her strong and reflecting mind the recollection of his +miserable weakness? or can we fancy this high-souled woman--left +childless through the injury which has been inflicted on her, widowed in +heart by the unworthness of him she loved, a spectacle of grief to +all--to her husband a continual reproach and humiliation--walking +through the parade of royalty in the court which had witnessed her +anguish, her shame, her degradation, and her despair? Methinks that the +want of feeling, nature, delicacy, and consistency, would lie in such an +exhibition as this. In a mind like Hermione's, where the strength of +feeling is founded in the power of thought, and where there is little of +impulse or imagination,--"the depth, but not the tumult of the +soul,"[48]--there are but two influences which predominate over the +will,--time and religion. And what then remained, but that, wounded in +heart and spirit, she should retire from the world?--not to brood over +her wrongs, but to study forgiveness, and wait the fulfilment of the +oracle which had promised the termination of her sorrows. Thus a +premature reconciliation would not only have been painfully inconsistent +with the character; it would also have deprived us of that most +beautiful scene, in which Hermione is discovered to her husband as the +statue or image of herself. And here we have another instance of that +admirable art, with which the dramatic character is fitted to the +circumstances in which it is placed: that perfect command over her own +feelings, that complete self-possession necessary to this extraordinary +situation, is consistent with all that we imagine of Hermione: in any +other woman it would be so incredible as to shock all our ideas of +probability. + +This scene, then, is not only one of the most picturesque and striking +instances of stage effect to be found in the ancient or modern drama, +but by the skilful manner in which it is prepared, it has, wonderful as +it appears, all the merit of consistency and truth. The grief, the love, +the remorse and impatience of Leontes, are finely contrasted with the +astonishment and admiration of Perdita, who, gazing on the figure of her +mother like one entranced, looks as if she were also turned to marble. +There is here one little instance of tender remembrance in Leontes, +which adds to the charming impression of Hermione's character. + + Chide me, dear stone! that I may say indeed + Thou art Hermione; or rather thou art she + In thy not chiding, for she was as tender + As infancy and grace. + + Thus she stood, + Even with such life of majesty--warm life-- + As now it coldly stands--when first I woo'd her! + +The effect produced on the different persons of the drama by this living +statue--an effect which at the same moment is, and is _not_ +illusion--the manner in which the feelings of the spectators become +entangled between the conviction of death and the impression of life, +the idea of a deception and the feeling of a reality; and the exquisite +coloring of poetry and touches of natural feeling with which the whole +is wrought up, till wonder, expectation, and intense pleasure, hold our +pulse and breath suspended on the event,--are quite inimitable. + +The expressions used here by Leontes,-- + + Thus she stood, + Even with such life of majesty--_warm life_. + The fixture of her eye has motion in't. + And we are mock'd by art! + +And by Polixines,-- + + The very life seems warm upon her lip, + +appear strangely applied to a statue, such as we usually imagine it--of +the cold colorless marble; but it is evident that in this scene Hermione +personates one of those images or effigies, such as we may see in the +old gothic cathedrals, in which the stone, or marble, was colored after +nature. I remember coming suddenly upon one of these effigies, either at +Basle or at Fribourg, which made me start: the figure was large as life; +the drapery of crimson, powdered with stars of gold; the face and eyes, +and hair, tinted after nature, though faded by time: it stood in a +gothic niche, over a tomb, as I think, and in a kind of dim uncertain +light. It would have been very easy for a living person to represent +such an effigy, particularly if it had been painted by that "rare +Italian master, Julio Romano,"[49] who, as we are informed, was the +reputed author of this wonderful statue. + +The moment when Hermione descends from her pedestal, to the sound of +soft music, and throws herself without speaking into her husband's arms, +is one of inexpressible interest. It appears to me that her silence +during the whole of this scene (except where she invokes a blessing on +her daughter's head) is in the finest taste as a poetical beauty, +besides being an admirable trait of character. The misfortunes of +Hermione, her long religious seclusion, the wonderful and almost +supernatural part she has just enacted, have invested her with such a +sacred and awful charm, that any words put into her mouth, must, I +think, have injured the solemn and profound pathos of the situation. + +There are several among Shakspeare's characters which exercise a far +stronger power over our feelings, our fancy, our understanding, than +that of Hermione; but not one,--unless perhaps Cordelia,--constructed +upon so high and pure a principle. It is the union of gentleness with +power which constitutes the perfection of mental grace. Thus among the +ancients, with whom the _graces_ were also the _charities_, (to show, +perhaps, that while form alone may constitute beauty, sentiment is +necessary to grace,) one and the same word signified equally _strength_ +and _virtue_. This feeling, carried into the fine arts, was the secret +of the antique grace--the grace of repose. The same eternal nature--the +same sense of immutable truth and beauty, which revealed this sublime +principle of art to the ancient Greeks, revealed it to the genius of +Shakspeare; and the character of Hermione, in which we have the same +largeness of conception and delicacy of execution,--the same effect of +suffering without passion, and grandeur without effort, is an instance, +I think, that he felt within himself, and by intuition, what we study +all our lives in the remains of ancient art. The calm, regular, +classical beauty of Hermione's character is the more impressive from the +wild and gothic accompaniments of her story, and the beautiful relief +afforded by the pastoral and romantic grace which is thrown around her +daughter Perdita. + +The character of Paulina, in the Winter's Tale, though it has obtained +but little notice, and no critical remark, (that I have seen,) is yet +one of the striking beauties of the play: and it has its moral too. As +we see running through the whole universe that principle of contrast +which may be called the life of nature, so we behold it every where +illustrated in Shakspeare: upon this principle he has placed Emilia +beside Desdemona, the nurse beside Juliet; the clowns and dairy-maids, +and the merry peddler thief Autolycus round Florizel and Perdita;--and +made Paulina the friend of Hermione. + +Paulina does not fill any ostensible office near the person of the +queen, but is a lady of high rank in the court--the wife of the Lord +Antigones. She is a character strongly drawn from real and common +life--a clever, generous, strong-minded, warmhearted woman, fearless in +asserting the truth, firm in her sense of right, enthusiastic in all her +affections: quick in thought, resolute in word, and energetic in action; +but heedless, hot-tempered, impatient, loud, bold, voluble, and +turbulent of tongue; regardless of the feelings of those for whom she +would sacrifice her life, and injuring from excess of zeal those whom +she most wishes to serve. How many such are there in the world! But +Paulina, though a very termagant, is yet a poetical termagant in her +way; and the manner in which all the evil and dangerous tendencies of +such a temper are placed before us, even while the individual character +preserves the strongest hold upon our respect and admiration, forms an +impressive lesson, as well as a natural and delightful portrait. + +In the scene, for instance, where she brings the infant before Leontes, +with the hope of softening him to a sense of his injustice--"an office +which," as she observes, "becomes a woman best"--her want of +self-government, her bitter, inconsiderate reproaches, only add, as we +might easily suppose, to his fury. + + PAULINA. + + I say I come + From your good queen! + + LEONTES. + + Good queen! + + PAULINA. + + Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say good queen; + And would by combat make her good, so were I + A man, the worst about you. + + LEONTES. + + Force her hence. + + PAULINA. + + Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes, + First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off; + But first I'll do mine errand. The good queen + (For she is good) hath brought you forth a daughter-- + Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing. + + LEONTES. + + Traitors! + Will you not push her out! Give her the bastard. + + PAULINA. + + Forever + Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou + Tak'st up the princess by that forced baseness + Which he has put upon't! + + LEONTES. + + He dreads his wife. + + PAULINA. + + So, I would _you_ did; then 'twere past all doubt + You'd call your children your's. + + LEONTES. + + A callat, + Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband, + And now baits me!--this brat is none of mine. + + PAULINA. + + It is yours, + And might we lay the old proverb to your charge, + So like you, 'tis the worse. + + * * * * + + LEONTES. + + A gross hag! + And lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, + That wilt not stay her tongue. + + ANTIGONES. + + Hang all the husbands + That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself + Hardly one subject. + + LEONTES. + + Once more, take her hence. + + PAULINA. + + A most unworthy and unnatural lord + Can do no more. + + LEONTES. + + I'll have thee burn'd. + + PAULINA. + + I care not: + It is an heretic that makes the fire, + Not she which burns in't. + +Here, while we honor her courage and her affection, we cannot help +regretting her violence. We see, too, in Paulina, what we so often see +in real life, that it is not those who are most susceptible in their own +temper and feelings, who are most delicate and forbearing towards the +feelings of others. She does not comprehend, or will not allow for the +sensitive weakness of a mind less firmly tempered than her own. There +is a reply of Leontes to one of her cutting speeches, which is full of +feeling, and a lesson to those, who, with the best intentions in the +world, force the painful truth, like a knife, into the already lacerated +heart. + + PAULINA. + + If, one by one, you wedded all the world, + Or, from the all that are, took something good + To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd + Would be unparallel'd. + + LEONTES. + + I think so. Kill'd! + She I kill'd? I did so: but thou strik'st me + Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter + Upon thy tongue, as in my thought. Now, good now, + Say so but seldom. + + CLEOMENES. + + Not at all, good lady: + You might have spoken a thousand things that would + Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd + Your kindness better. + +We can only excuse Paulina by recollecting that it is a part of her +purpose to keep alive in the heart of Leontes the remembrance of his +queen's perfections, and of his own cruel injustice. It is admirable, +too, that Hermione and Paulina, while sufficiently approximated to +afford all the pleasure of contrast, are never brought too nearly in +contact on the scene or in the dialogue;[50] for this would have been a +fault in taste, and have necessarily weakened the effect of both +characters:--either the serene grandeur of Hermione would have subdued +and overawed the fiery spirit of Paulina, or the impetuous temper of the +latter must have disturbed in some respect our impression of the calm, +majestic, and somewhat melancholy beauty of Hermione. + + +DESDEMONA. + +The character of Hermione is addressed more to the imagination; that of +Desdemona to the feelings. All that can render sorrow majestic is +gathered round Hermione; all that can render misery heart-breaking is +assembled round Desdemona. The wronged but self-sustained virtue of +Hermione commands our veneration; the injured and defenceless innocence +of Desdemona so wrings the soul, "that all for pity we could die." + +Desdemona, as a character, comes nearest to Miranda, both in herself as +a woman, and in the perfect simplicity and unity of the delineation; the +figures are differently draped--the proportions are the same. There is +the same modesty, tenderness, and grace; the same artless devotion in +the affections, the same predisposition to wonder, to pity, to admire; +the same almost ethereal refinement and delicacy; but all is pure poetic +nature within Miranda and around her: Desdemona is more associated with +the palpable realities of every-day existence, and we see the forms and +habits of society tinting her language and deportment; no two beings can +be more alike in character--nor more distinct as individuals. + +The love of Desdemona for Othello appears at first such a violation of +all probabilities, that her father at once imputes it to magic, "to +spells and mixtures powerful o'er the blood." + + She, in spite of nature, + Of years, of country, credit, every thing, + To fall in love with what she feared to look on! + +And the devilish malignity of Iago, whose coarse mind cannot conceive an +affection founded purely in sentiment, derives from her love itself a +strong argument against her. + + Ay, there's the point, as to be bold with you, + Not to affect any proposed matches + Of her own clime, complexion, and degree, + Whereto, we see, in all things nature tends,[51] &c. + +Notwithstanding this disparity of age, character, country, complexion, +we, who are admitted into the secret, see her love rise naturally and +necessarily out of the leading propensities of her nature. + +At the period of the story a spirit of wild adventure had seized all +Europe. The discovery of both Indies was yet recent; over the shores of +the western hemisphere still fable and mystery hung, with all their dim +enchantments, visionary terrors, and golden promises! perilous +expeditions and distant voyages were every day undertaken from hope of +plunder, or mere love of enterprise; and from these the adventurers +returned with tales of "Antres vast and desarts wild--of cannibals that +did each other eat--of Anthropophagi, and men whose heads did grow +beneath their shoulders." With just such stories did Raleigh and +Clifford, and their followers return from the New World: and thus by +their splendid or fearful exaggerations, which the imperfect knowledge +of those times could not refute, was the passion for the romantic and +marvellous nourished at home, particularly among the women. A cavalier +of those days had no nearer no surer way to his mistress's heart, than +by entertaining her with these wondrous narratives. What was a general +feature of his time, Shakspeare seized and adapted to his purpose with +the most exquisite felicity of effect. Desdemona, leaving her household +cares in haste, to hang breathless on Othello's tales, was doubtless a +picture from the life; and her inexperience and her quick imagination +lend it an added propriety: then her compassionate disposition is +interested by all the disastrous chances, hair-breadth 'scapes, and +moving accidents by flood and field, of which he has to tell; and her +exceeding gentleness and timidity, and her domestic turn of mind, render +her more easily captivated by the military renown, the valor, and lofty +bearing of the noble Moor-- + + And to his honors and his valiant parts + Does she her soul and fortunes consecrate. + +The confession and the excuse for her love is well placed in the mouth +of Desdemona, while the history of the rise of that love, and of his +course of wooing, is, with the most graceful propriety, as far as she is +concerned, spoken by Othello, and in her absence. The last two lines +summing up the whole-- + + She loved me for the dangers I had passed, + And I loved her that she did pity them-- + +comprise whole volumes of sentiment and metaphysics. + +Desdemona displays at times a transient energy, arising from the power +of affection, but gentleness gives the prevailing tone to the +character--gentleness in its excess--gentleness verging on +passiveness--gentleness, which not only cannot resent,--but cannot +resist. + + OTHELLO. + + Then of so gentle a condition! + + IAGO. + + Ay! too gentle. + + OTHELLO. + + Nay, that's certain + +Here the exceeding softness of Desdemona's temper is turned against her +by Iago, so that it suddenly strikes Othello in a new point of view, as +the inability to resist temptation; but to us who perceive the character +as a whole, this extreme gentleness of nature is yet delineated with +such exceeding refinement, that the effect never approaches to +feebleness. It is true that _once_ her extreme timidity leads her in a +moment of confusion and terror to prevaricate about the fatal +handkerchief. This handkerchief, in the original story of Cinthio, is +merely one of those embroidered handkerchiefs which were as fashionable +in Shakspeare's time as in our own; but the minute description of it as +"lavorato alla morisco sottilissimamente,"[52] suggested to the poetical +fancy of Shakspeare one of the most exquisite and characteristic +passages in the whole play. Othello makes poor Desdemona believe that +the handkerchief was a talisman. + + There's magic in the web of it. + A sibyl, that had numbered in the world + The sun to make two hundred compasses, + In her prophetic fury sew'd the work: + The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk, + And it was dyed in mummy, which the skilful + Conserv'd of maidens' hearts. + + DESDEMONA. + + Indeed! is't true? + + OTHELLO. + + Most veritable, therefore look to't well. + + DESDEMONA. + + Then would to heaven that I had never seen it! + + OTHELLO. + + Ha! wherefore! + + DESDEMONA. + + Why do you speak so startingly and rash? + + OTHELLO. + + Is't lost,--Is't gone? Speak, is it out of the way? + + DESDEMONA. + + Heavens bless us! + + OTHELLO. + + Say you? + + DESDEMONA. + + It is not lost--but what an' if it were? + + OTHELLO. + + Ha! + + DESDEMONA. + + I say it is not lost. + + OTHELLO. + + Fetch it, let me see it. + + DESDEMONA. + + Why so I can, sir, but I will not now, &c. + +Desdemona, whose soft credulity, whose turn for the marvellous, whose +susceptible imagination had first directed her thoughts and affections +to Othello, is precisely the woman to be frightened out of her senses by +such a tale as this, and betrayed by her fears into a momentary +tergiversation. It is most natural in such a being, and shows us that +even in the sweetest natures there can be no completeness and +consistency without moral energy.[53] + +With the most perfect artlessness, she has something of the instinctive, +unconscious address of her sex; as when she appeals to her father-- + + So much duty as my mother show'd + To you, preferring you before her father, + So much I challenge, that I may profess + Due to the Moor, my lord. + +And when she is pleading for Cassio-- + + What! Michael Cassio! + That came a wooing with you; and many a time. + When I have spoken of you disparagingly, + Hath ta'en your part? + +In persons who unite great sensibility and lively fancy, I have often +observed this particular species of address, which is always unconscious +of itself, and consists in the power of placing ourselves in the +position of another, and imagining, rather than perceiving, what is in +their hearts. We women have this _address_ (if so it can be called) +naturally, but I have seldom met with it in men. It is not inconsistent +with extreme simplicity of character, and quite distinct from that kind +of art which is the result of natural acuteness and habits of +observation--quick to perceive the foibles of others, and as quick to +turn them to its own purposes; which is always conscious of itself, and, +if united with strong intellect, seldom perceptible to others. In the +mention of her mother, and the appeal to Othello's self-love, Desdemona +has no design formed on conclusions previously drawn; but her intuitive +quickness of feeling, added to her imagination, lead her more safely to +the same results, and the distinction is as truly as it is delicately +drawn. + +When Othello first outrages her in a manner which appears inexplicable, +she seeks and finds excuses for him. She is so innocent that not only +she cannot believe herself suspected, but she cannot conceive the +existence of guilt in others. + + Something, sure, of state, + Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practice + Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him, + Hath puddled his clear spirit. + 'Tis even so-- + Nay, we must think, men are not gods, + Nor of them look for such observances + As fit the bridal. + +And when the direct accusation of crime is flung on her in the vilest +terms, it does not anger but stun her, as if it transfixed her whole +being; she attempts no reply, no defence; and reproach or resistance +never enters her thought. + + Good friend, go to him--for by this light of heaven + I know not how I lost him: here I kneel:-- + If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, + Either in discourse of thought or actual deed; + Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, + Delighted them in any other form; + Or that I do not yet, and ever did, + And ever will, though he do shake me off + To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly, + Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much, + And his unkindness may defeat my life, + But never taint my love. + +And there is one stroke of consummate delicacy surprising, when we +remember the latitude of expression prevailing in Shakspeare's time, and +which he allowed to his other women generally: she says, on recovering +from her stupefaction-- + + Am I that name, Iago? + + IAGO. + + What name, sweet lady? + + DESDEMONA. + + That which she says my lord did say I was. + +So completely did Shakspeare enter into the angelic refinement of the +character. + +Endued with that temper which is the origin of superstition in love as +in religion,--which, in fact makes love itself a religion,--she not +only does not utter an upbraiding, but nothing that Othello does or +says, no outrage, no injustice, can tear away the charm with which her +imagination had invested him, or impair her faith in his honor; "Would +you had never seen him!" exclaims Emilia. + + DESDEMONA. + + So would not I!--my love doth so approve him, + That even his stubbornness, his checks and frowns + Have grace and favor in them. + +There is another peculiarity, which, in reading the play of Othello, we +rather feel than perceive: through the whole of the dialogue +appropriated to Desdemona, there is not one general observation. Words +are with her the vehicle of sentiment, and never of reflection; so that +I cannot find throughout a sentence of general application. The same +remark applies to Miranda: and to no other female character of any +importance or interest; not even to Ophelia. + +The rest of what I wished to say of Desdemona, has been anticipated by +an anonymous critic, and so beautifully, so justly, so eloquently +expressed, that I with pleasure erase my own page, to make room for his. + +"Othello," observes this writer, "is no love story; all that is below +tragedy in the passion of love, is taken away at once, by the awful +character of Othello; for such he seems to us to be designed to be. He +appears never as a lover, but at once as a husband: and the relation of +his love made dignified, as it is a husband's justification of his +marriage, is also dignified, as it is a soldier's relation of his stern +and perilous life. His love itself, as long as it is happy, is perfectly +calm and serene--the protecting tenderness of a husband. It is not till +it is disordered, that it appears as a passion: then is shown a power in +contention with itself--a mighty being struck with death, and bringing +up from all the depths of life convulsions and agonies. It is no +exhibition of the power of the passion of love, but of the passion of +life, vitally wounded, and self over-mastering. If Desdemona had been +really guilty, the greatness would have been destroyed, because his love +would have been unworthy, false. But she is good, and his love is most +perfect, just, and good. That a man should place his perfect love on a +wretched thing, is miserably debasing, and shocking to thought; but that +loving perfectly and well, he should by hellish human circumvention be +brought to distrust and dread, and abjure his own perfect love, is most +mournful indeed--it is the infirmity of our good nature wrestling in +vain with the strong powers of evil. Moreover, he would, had Desdemona +been false, have been the mere victim of fate; whereas he is now in a +manner his own victim. His happy love was heroic tenderness; his injured +love is terrible passion, and disordered power, engendered within itself +to its own destruction, is the height of all tragedy. + +"The character of Othello is perhaps the most greatly drawn, the most +heroic of any of Shakspeare's actors; but it is, perhaps, that one also +of which his reader last acquires the intelligence. The intellectual and +warlike energy of his mind--his tenderness of affection--his loftiness +of spirit--his frank, generous magnanimity--impetuosity like a +thunderbolt--and that dark, fierce flood of boiling passion, polluting +even his imagination,--compose a character entirely original, most +difficult to delineate, but perfectly delineated." + +Emilia in this play is a perfect portrait from common life, a +masterpiece in the Flemish style: and though not necessary as a +contrast, it cannot be but that the thorough vulgarity, the loose +principles of this plebeian woman, united to a high degree of spirit, +energetic feeling, strong sense and low cunning, serve to place in +brighter relief the exquisite refinement, the moral grace, the +unblemished truth, and the soft submission of Desdemona. + +On the other perfections of this tragedy, considered as a production of +genius--on the wonderful characters of Othello and Iago--on the skill +with which the plot is conducted, and its simplicity which a +word unravels,[54] and on the overpowering horror of the +catastrophe--eloquence and analytical criticism have been exhausted; I +will only add, that the source of the pathos throughout--of that pathos +which at once softens and deepens the tragic effect--lies in the +character of Desdemona. No woman differently constituted could have +excited the same intense and painful compassion, without losing +something of that exalted charm, which invests her from beginning to +end, which we are apt to impute to the interest of the situation, and to +the poetical coloring, but which lies, in fact, in the very essence of +the character. Desdemona, with all her timid flexibility and soft +acquiescence, is not weak; for the negative alone is weak; and the mere +presence of goodness and affection implies in itself a species of power; +power without consciousness, power without effort, power with +repose--that soul of grace! + +I know a Desdemona in real life, one in whom the absence of intellectual +power is never felt as a deficiency, nor the absence of energy of will +as impairing the dignity, nor the most imperturbable serenity, as a want +of feeling: one in whom thoughts appear mere instincts, the sentiment of +rectitude supplies the principle, and virtue itself seems rather a +necessary state of being, than an imposed law. No shade of sin or vanity +has yet stolen over that bright innocence. No discord within has marred +the loveliness without--no strife of the factitious world without has +disturbed the harmony within. The comprehension of evil appears forever +shut out, as if goodness had converted all things to itself; and all to +the pure in heart must necessarily be pure. The impression produced is +exactly that of the character of Desdemona; genius is a rare thing, but +abstract goodness is rarer. In Desdemona, we cannot but feel that the +slightest manifestation of intellectual power or active will would have +injured the dramatic effect. She is a victim consecrated from the +first,--"an offering without blemish," alone worthy of the grand final +sacrifice; all harmony, all grace, all purity, all tenderness, all +truth! But, alas! to see her fluttering like a cherub in the talons of a +fiend!--to see her--O poor Desdemona! + + +IMOGEN. + +We come to Imogen. Others of Shakspeare's characters are, as dramatic +and poetical conceptions, more striking, more brilliant, more powerful; +but of all his women, considered as individuals rather than as heroines, +Imogen is the most perfect. Portia and Juliet are pictured to the fancy +with more force of contrast, more depth of light and shade; Viola and +Miranda, with more aerial delicacy of outline; but there is no female +portrait that can be compared to Imogen as a woman--none in which so +great a variety of tints are mingled together into such perfect harmony. +In her, we have all the fervor of youthful tenderness, all the romance +of youthful fancy, all the enchantment of ideal grace,--the bloom of +beauty, the brightness of intellect and the dignity of rank, taking a +peculiar hue from the conjugal character which is shed over all, like a +consecration and a holy charm. In Othello and the Winter's Tale, the +interest excited for Desdemona and Hermione is divided with others: but +in Cymbeline, Imogen is the angel of light, whose lovely presence +pervades and animates the whole piece. The character altogether may be +pronounced finer, more complex in its elements, and more fully developed +in all its parts, than those of Hermione and Desdemona; but the position +in which she is placed is not, I think, so fine--at least, not so +effective, as a tragic situation. + +Shakspeare has borrowed the chief circumstances of Imogen's story from +one of Boccaccio's tales.[55] + +A company of Italian merchants who are assembled in a tavern at Paris, +are represented as conversing on the subject of their wives: all of them +express themselves with levity, or skepticism, or scorn, on the virtue +of women, except a young Genoese merchant named Bernabo, who maintains, +that by the especial favor of Heaven he possesses a wife no less chaste +than beautiful. Heated by the wine, and excited by the arguments and the +coarse raillery of another young merchant, Ambrogiolo, Bernabo proceeds +to enumerate the various perfections and accomplishments of his Zinevra. +He praises her loveliness, her submission, and her discretion--her skill +in embroidery, her graceful service, in which the best trained page of +the court could not exceed her; and he adds, as rarer accomplishments, +that she could mount a horse, fly a hawk, write and read, and cast up +accounts, as well as any merchant of them all. His enthusiasm only +excites the laughter and mockery of his companions, particularly of +Ambrogiolo, who, by the most artful mixture of contradiction and +argument, rouses the anger of Bernabo, and he at length exclaims, that +he would willingly stake his life, his head, on the virtue of his wife. +This leads to the wager which forms so important an incident in the +drama. Ambrogiolo bets one thousand florins of gold against five +thousand, that Zinevra, like the rest of her sex, is accessible to +temptation--that in less than three months he will undermine her virtue, +and bring her husband the most undeniable proofs of her falsehood. He +sets off for Genoa, in order to accomplish his purpose; but on his +arrival, all that he learns, and all that he beholds with his own eyes, +of the discreet and noble character of the lady, make him despair of +success by fair means; he therefore has recourse to the basest +treachery. By bribing an old woman in the service of Zinevra, he is +conveyed to her sleeping apartment, concealed in a trunk, from which he +issues in the dead of the night; he takes note of the furniture of the +chamber, makes himself master of her purse, her morning robe, or cymar, +and her girdle, and of a certain mark on her person. He repeats these +observations for two nights, and, furnished with these evidences of +Zinevra's guilt, he returns to Paris, and lays them before the wretched +husband. Bernabo rejects every proof of his wife's infidelity except +that which finally convinces Posthumus. When Ambrogiolo mentions the +"mole, cinque-spotted," he stands like one who has received a poniard in +his heart; without further dispute he pays down the forfeit, and filled +with rage and despair both at the loss of his money and the falsehood of +his wife, he returns towards Genoa; he retires to his country house, and +sends a messenger to the city with letters to Zinevra, desiring that she +would come and meet him, but with secret orders to the man to despatch +her by the way. The servant prepares to execute his master's command, +but overcome by her entreaties for mercy, and his own remorse, he spares +her life, on condition that she will fly from the country forever. He +then disguises her in his own cloak and cap, and brings back to her +husband the assurance that she is killed, and that her body has been +devoured by the wolves. In the disguise of a mariner, Zinevra then +embarks on board a vessel bound to the Levant, and on arriving at +Alexandria, she is taken into the service of the Sultan of Egypt, under +the name of Sicurano; she gains the confidence of her master, who, not +suspecting her sex, sends her as captain of the guard which was +appointed for the protection of the merchants at the fair of Acre. Here +she accidentally meets Ambrogiolo, and sees in his possession the purse +and girdle, which she immediately recognizes as her own. In reply to her +inquiries, he relates with fiendish exultation the manner in which he +had obtained possession of them, and she persuades him to go back with +her to Alexandria. She then sends a messenger to Genoa in the name of +the Sultan, and induces her husband to come and settle in Alexandria. At +a proper opportunity, she summons both to the presence of the Sultan, +obliges Ambrogiolo to make a full confession of his treachery, and +wrings from her husband the avowal of his supposed murder of herself: +then falling at the feet of the Sultan discovers her real name and sex, +to the great amazement of all. Bernabo is pardoned at the prayer of his +wife, and Ambrogiolo is condemned to be fastened to a stake, smeared +with honey, and left to be devoured by the flies and locusts. This +horrible sentence is executed; while Zinevra, enriched by the presents +of the Sultan, and the forfeit wealth of Ambrogiolo, returns with her +husband to Genoa, where she lives in great honor and happiness, and +maintains her reputation of virtue to the end of her life. + +These are the materials from which Shakspeare has drawn the dramatic +situation of Imogen. He has also endowed her with several of the +qualities which are attributed to Zinevra; but for the essential truth +and beauty of the individual character, for the sweet coloring of +pathos, and sentiment, and poetry interfused through the whole, he is +indebted only to nature and himself. + +It would be a waste of words to refute certain critics who have accused +Shakspeare of a want of judgment in the adoption of the story; of +having transferred the manners of a set of intoxicated merchants and a +merchant's wife to heroes and princesses, and of having entirely +destroyed the interest of the catastrophe.[56] The truth is, that +Shakspeare has wrought out the materials before him with the most +luxuriant fancy and the most wonderful skill. As for the various +anachronisms, and the confusion of names, dates, and manners, over which +Dr. Johnson exults in no measured terms, the confusion is nowhere but in +his own heavy obtuseness of sentiment and perception, and his want of +poetical faith. Look into the old Italian poets, whom we read +continually with still increasing pleasure; does any one think of +sitting down to disprove the existence of Ariodante, king of Scotland? +or to prove that the mention of Proteus and Pluto, baptism and the +Virgin Mary, in a breath, amounts to an anachronism? Shakspeare, by +throwing his story far back into a remote and uncertain age, has +blended, by his "own omnipotent will," the marvellous, the heroic, the +ideal, and the classical,--the extreme of refinement and the extreme of +simplicity,--into one of the loveliest fictions of romantic poetry; and, +to use Schlegel's expression, "has made the social manners of the latest +times harmonize with heroic deeds, and even with the appearances of the +gods."[57] + +But, admirable as is the conduct of the whole play, rich in variety of +character and in picturesque incident, its chief beauty and interest is +derived from Imogen. + +When Ferdinand tells Miranda that she was "created of every creature's +best," he speaks like a lover, or refers only to her personal charms: +the same expression might be applied critically to the character of +Imogen; for, as the portrait of Miranda is produced by resolving the +female character into its original elements, so that of Imogen unites +the greatest number of those qualities which we imagine to constitute +excellency in woman. + +Imogen, like Juliet, conveys to our mind the impression of extreme +simplicity in the midst of the most wonderful complexity. To conceive +her aright, we must take some peculiar tint from many characters, and so +mingle them, that, like the combination of hues in a sunbeam, the effect +shall be as one to the eye. We must imagine something of the romantic +enthusiasm of Juliet, of the truth and constancy of Helen, of the +dignified purity of Isabel, of the tender sweetness of Viola, of the +self-possession and intellect of Portia--combined together so equally +and so harmoniously, that we can scarcely say that one quality +predominates over the other. But Imogen is less imaginative than Juliet, +less spirited and intellectual than Portia, less serious than Helen and +Isabel; her dignity is not so imposing as that of Hermione, it stands +more on the defensive; her submission, though unbounded, is not so +passive as that of Desdemona; and thus while she resembles each of +these characters individually, she stands wholly distinct from all. + +It is true, that the conjugal tenderness of Imogen is at once the chief +subject of the drama, and the pervading charm of her character; but it +is not true, I think, that she is merely interesting from her tenderness +and constancy to her husband. We are so completely let into the essence +of Imogen's nature, that we feel as if we had known and loved her before +she was married to Posthumus, and that her conjugal virtues are a charm +superadded, like the color laid upon a beautiful groundwork. Neither +does it appear to me, that Posthumus is unworthy of Imogen, or only +interesting on Imogen's account. His character, like those of all the +other persons of the drama, is kept subordinate to hers: but this could +not be otherwise, for she is the proper subject--the heroine of the +poem. Every thing is done to ennoble Posthumus, and justify her love for +him; and though we certainly approve him more for her sake than for his +own, we are early prepared to view him with Imogen's eyes; and not only +excuse, but sympathize in her admiration of one + + Who sat 'mongst men like a descended god. + + * * * * + + Who lived in court, which it is rare to do, + Most praised, most loved: + A sample to the youngest; to the more mature, + A glass that feated them. + +And with what beauty and delicacy is her conjugal and matronly +character discriminated! Her love for her husband is as deep as Juliet's +for her lover, but without any of that headlong vehemence, that +fluttering amid hope, fear, and transport--that giddy intoxication of +heart and sense, which belongs to the novelty of passion, which we feel +once, and but once, in our lives. We see her love for Posthumus acting +upon her mind with the force of an habitual feeling, heightened by +enthusiastic passion, and hallowed by the sense of duty. She asserts and +justifies her affection with energy indeed, but with a calm and +wife-like dignity:-- + + CYMBELINE. + + Thou took'st a beggar, would'st have made my throne + A seat for baseness. + + IMOGEN. + + No, I rather added a lustre to it + + CYMBELINE. + + O thou vile one! + + IMOGEN. + + Sir, + It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus; + You bred him as my playfellow, and he is + A man worth any woman; overbuys me, + Almost the sum he pays. + +Compare also, as examples of the most delicate discrimination of +character and feeling, the parting scene between Imogen and Posthumus, +that between Romeo and Juliet, and that between Troilus and Cressida: +compare the confiding matronly tenderness, the deep but resigned sorrow +of Imogen, with the despairing agony of Juliet, and the petulant grief +of Cressida. + +When Posthumus is driven into exile, he comes to take a last farewell of +his wife:-- + + IMOGEN. + + My dearest husband, + I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing + (Always reserved my holy duty) what + His rage can do on me. You must be gone, + And I shall here abide the hourly shot + Of angry eyes: not comforted to live, + But that there is this jewel in the world + That I may see again. + + POSTHUMUS. + + My queen! my mistress! + O, lady, weep no more! lest I give cause + To be suspected of more tenderness + Than doth become a man. I will remain + The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth + + * * * * + + Should we be taking leave + As long a term as yet we have to live, + The loathness to depart would grow--Adieu! + + IMOGEN. + + Nay, stay a little: + Were you but riding forth to air yourself, + Such parting were too petty. Look here, love, + This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart + But keep it till you woo another wife, + When Imogen is dead! + +Imogen, in whose tenderness there is nothing jealous or fantastic, does +not seriously apprehend that her husband will woo another wife when she +is dead. It is one of those fond fancies which women are apt to express +in moments of feeling, merely for the pleasure of hearing a protestation +to the contrary. When Posthumus leaves her, she does not burst forth in +eloquent lamentation; but that silent, stunning, overwhelming sorrow, +which renders the mind insensible to all things else, is represented +with equal force and simplicity. + + IMOGEN. + + There cannot be a pinch in death + More sharp than this is. + + CYMBELINE. + + O disloyal thing, + That should'st repair my youth; thou heapeat + A year's age on me! + + IMOGEN. + + I beseech you, sir, + Harm not yourself with your vexation; I + Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare[58] + Subdues all pangs, all fears. + + CYMBELINE. + + Past grace? obedience? + + IMOGEN. + + Past hope and in despair--that way past grace. + +In the same circumstances, the impetuous excited feelings of Juliet, +and her vivid imagination, lend something far more wildly agitated, more +intensely poetical and passionate to her grief. + + JULIET. + + Art thou gone so? My love, my lord, my friend! + I must hear from thee every day i' the hour, + For in a minute there are many days-- + O by this count I shall be much in years, + Ere I again behold my Romeo! + + ROMEO. + + Farewell! I will omit no opportunity + That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + + JULIET. + + O! think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + + ROMEO. + + I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve + For sweet discourses in our time to come. + + JULIET. + + O God! I have an ill-divining soul: + Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, + As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: + Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +We have no sympathy with the pouting disappointment of Cressida, which +is just like that of a spoilt child which has lost its sugar-plum, +without tenderness, passions, or poetry: and, in short, perfectly +characteristic of that vain, fickle, dissolute, heartless +woman,--"unstable as water." + + CRESSIDA. + + And is it true that I must go from Troy? + + TROILUS. + + A hateful truth. + + CRESSIDA. + + What, and from Troilus too? + + TROILUS. + + From Troy and Troilus. + + CRESSIDA. + + Is it possible? + + TROILUS. + + And suddenly. + + CRESSIDA. + + I must then to the Greeks? + + TROILUS. + + No remedy. + + CRESSIDA. + + A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks! + When shall we see again? + + TROILUS. + + Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart-- + + CRESSIDA. + + I true! How now? what wicked deem is this? + + TROILUS. + + Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, + For it is parting from us; + I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee; + For I will throw my glove to Death himself + That there's no maculation in thy heart: + But be thou true, say I, to fashion in + My sequent protestation. Be thou true, + And I will see thee. + + CRESSIDA. + + O heavens! be true again-- + O heavens! you love me not. + + TROILUS. + + Die I a villain, then! + In this I do not call your faith in question, + So mainly as my merit-- + --But be not tempted. + + CRESSIDA. + + Do you think I will? + + * * * * * + +In the eagerness of Imogen to meet her husband there is all a wife's +fondness, mixed up with the breathless hurry arising from a sudden and +joyful surprise; but nothing of the picturesque eloquence, the ardent, +exuberant, Italian imagination of Juliet, who, to gratify her +impatience, would have her heralds thoughts;--press into her service the +nimble pinioned doves, and wind-swift Cupids,--change the course of +nature, and lash the steeds of Phoebus to the west. Imogen only thinks +"one score of miles, 'twixt sun and sun," slow travelling for a lover, +and wishes for a horse with wings-- + + O for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio? + He is at Milford Haven. Read, and tell me + How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs + May plod it in a week, why may not I + Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio, + (Who long'st like me, to see thy lord--who long'st-- + O let me bate, but not like me--yet long'st, + But in a fainter kind--O not like me, + For mine's beyond beyond,) say, and speak thick-- + (Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing + To the smothering of the sense)--how far is it + To this same blessed Milford? And by the way, + Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as + To inherit such a haven. But, first of all, + How we may steal from hence; and for the gap + That we shall make in time, from our hence going + And our return, to excuse. But first, how get hence. + Why should excuse be born, or e'er begot? + We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee speak, + How many score of miles may we well ride + 'Twixt hour and hour? + + PISANIO. + + One score, 'twixt sun and sun, + Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too. + + IMOGEN. + + Why, one that rode to his execution, man, + Could never go so slow! + +There are two or three other passages bearing on the conjugal tenderness +of Imogen, which must be noticed for the extreme intensity of the +feeling, and the unadorned elegance of the expression. + + I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven + And question'dst every sail: if he should write, + And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost + As offer'd mercy is. What was the last + That he spake to thee? + + PISANIO. + + 'Twas, His queen! his queen! + + IMOGEN. + + Then wav'd his hankerchief? + + PISANIO. + + And kiss'd it, madam. + + IMOGEN. + + Senseless linen! happier therein than I!-- + And that was all? + + PISANIO. + + No, madam; for so long + As he could make me with this eye or ear + Distinguish him from others, he did keep + The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief + Still waving, as the fits and stirs of his mind + Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on, + How swift his ship. + + IMOGEN. + + Thou should'st have made him + As little as a crow, or less, ere left + To after-eye him. + + PISANIO. + + Madam, so I did. + + IMOGEN. + + I would have broke my eye-strings; cracked them, but + To look upon him; till the diminution + Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle; + Nay, followed him, till he had melted from + The smallness of a gnat to air; and then + Have turn'd mine eye, and wept. + +Two little incidents, which are introduced with the most unobtrusive +simplicity, convey the strongest impression of her tenderness for her +husband, and with that perfect unconsciousness on her part, which adds +to the effect. Thus when she has lost her bracelet-- + + Go, bid my woman + Search for a jewel, that too casually, + Hath left my arm. It was thy master's: 'shrew me, + If I would lose it for a revenue + Of any king in Europe. I do think + I saw't this morning; confident I am, + Last night 'twas on mine arm--_I kiss'd it. + I hope it has not gone to tell my lord + That I kiss aught but he._ + +It has been well observed, that our consciousness that the bracelet is +really gone to bear false witness against her, adds an inexpressibly +touching effect to the simplicity and tenderness of the sentiment. + +And again, when she opens her bosom to meet the death to which her +husband has doomed her, she finds his letters preserved next her heart + + What's here! + The letters of the loyal Leonatus?-- + Soft, we'll no defence. + +The scene in which Posthumus stakes his ring on the virtue of his wife, +and gives Iachimo permission to tempt her, is taken from the story. The +baseness and folly of such conduct have been justly censured; but +Shakspeare, feeling that Posthumus needed every excuse, has managed the +quarrelling scene between him and Iachimo with the most admirable +skill. The manner in which his high spirit is gradually worked up by the +taunts of this Italian fiend, is contrived with far more probability, +and much less coarseness, than in the original tale. In the end he is +not the challenger, but the challenged; and could hardly (except on a +moral principle, much too refined for those rude times) have declined +the wager without compromising his own courage and his faith in the +honor of Imogen. + + IACHIMO. + + I durst attempt it against any lady in the world. + + POSTHUMUS. + + You are a great deal abused in too bold a persuasion; and I + doubt not you sustain what you're worthy of, by your + attempt. + + IACHIMO. + + What's that? + + POSTHUMUS. + + A repulse: though your _attempt_, as you call it, deserve + more--a punishment too. + + PHILARIO. + + Gentlemen, enough of this. It came in too suddenly; let it + die as it was born, and I pray you be better acquainted. + + IACHIMO. + + Would I had put my estate and my neighbor's on the + approbation of what I have said! + + POSTHUMUS. + + What lady would you choose to assail? + + IACHIMO. + + Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so safe + +In the interview between Imogen and Iachimo, he does not begin his +attack on her virtue by a direct accusation against Posthumus; but by +dark hints and half-uttered insinuations, such as Iago uses to madden +Othello, he intimates that her husband, in his absence from her, has +betrayed her love and truth, and forgotten her in the arms of another. +All that Imogen says in this scene is comprised in a few lines--a brief +question, or a more brief remark. The proud and delicate reserve with +which she veils the anguish she suffers, is inimitably beautiful. The +strongest expression of reproach he can draw from her, is only, "My +lord, I fear, has forgot Britain." When he continues in the same strain, +she exclaims in an agony, "Let me hear no more." When he urges her to +revenge, she asks, with all the simplicity of virtue, "How should I be +revenged?" And when he explains to her how she is to be avenged, her +sudden burst of indignation, and her immediate perception of his +treachery, and the motive for it, are powerfully fine: it is not only +the anger of a woman whose delicacy has been shocked, but the spirit of +a princess insulted in her court. + + Away! I do condemn mine ears, that have + So long attended thee. If thou wert honorable, + Thou would'st have told this tale for virtue not + For such an end thou seek'st, as base as strange + Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far + From thy report as thou from honor; and + Solicit'st here a lady that disdains + Thee and the devil alike. + +It has been remarked, that "her readiness to pardon Iachimo's false +imputation, and his designs against herself, is a good lesson to prudes, +and may show that where there is a real attachment to virtue, there is +no need of an outrageous antipathy to vice."[59] + +This is true; but can we fail to perceive that the instant and ready +forgiveness of Imogen is accounted for, and rendered more graceful and +characteristic by the very means which Iachimo employs to win it? He +pours forth the most enthusiastic praises of her husband, professes that +he merely made this trial of her out of his exceeding love for +Posthumus, and she is pacified at once; but, with exceeding delicacy of +feeling, she is represented as maintaining her dignified reserve and her +brevity of speech to the end of the scene.[60] + +We must also observe how beautifully the character of Imogen is +distinguished from those of Desdemona and Hermione. When she is made +acquainted with her husband's cruel suspicions, we see in her deportment +neither the meek submission of the former, nor the calm resolute dignity +of the latter. The first effect produced on her by her husband's letter +is conveyed to the fancy by the exclamation of Pisanio, who is gazing on +her as she reads.-- + + What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper + Has cut her throat already! No, 'tis slander, + Whose edge is sharper than the sword! + +And in her first exclamations we trace, besides astonishment and +anguish, and the acute sense of the injustice inflicted on her, a flash +of indignant spirit, which we do not find in Desdemona or Hermione + + False to his bed!--What is it to be false? + To lie in watch there, and to think of him? + To weep 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature, + To break it with a fearful dream of him, + And cry myself awake?--that's false to his bed, + Is it? + +This is followed by that affecting lamentation over the falsehood and +injustice of her husband, in which she betrays no atom of jealousy or +wounded self-love, but observes in the extremity of her anguish, that +after _his_ lapse from truth, "all good seeming would be discredited," +and she then resigns herself to his will with the most entire +submission. + +In the original story, Zinevra prevails on the servant to spare her, by +her exclamations and entreaties for mercy. "The lady, seeing the +poniard, and hearing those words, exclaimed in terror, 'Alas! have pity +on me for the love of Heaven! do not become the slayer of one who never +offended thee, only to pleasure another. God, who knows all things, +knows that I have never done that which could merit such a reward from +my husband's hand.'" + +Now let us turn to Shakspeare. Imogen says,-- + + Come, fellow, be thou honest; + Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou seest him, + A little witness my obedience. Look! + I draw the sword myself; take it, and hit + The innocent mansion of my love, my heart. + Fear not; 'tis empty of all things but grief: + Thy master is not there, who was, indeed, + The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike! + +The devoted attachment of Pisanio to his royal mistress, all through the +piece, is one of those side touches by which Shakspeare knew how to give +additional effect to his characters. + +Cloten is odious;[61] but we must not overlook the peculiar fitness and +propriety of his character, in connection with that of Imogen. He is +precisely the kind of man who would be most intolerable to such a woman. +He is a fool,--so is Slender, and Sir Andrew Aguecheek: but the folly +of Cloten is not only ridiculous, but hateful; it arises not so much +from a want of understanding as a total want of heart; it is the +perversion of sentiment, rather than the deficiency of intellect; he has +occasional gleams of sense, but never a touch of feeling. Imogen +describes herself not only as "sprighted with a fool," but as "frighted +and anger'd worse." No other fool but Cloten--a compound of the booby +and the villain--could excite in such a mind as Imogen's the same +mixture of terror, contempt, and abhorrence. The stupid, obstinate +malignity of Cloten, and the wicked machinations of the queen-- + + A father cruel, and a step-dame false, + A foolish suitor to a wedded lady-- + +justify whatever might need excuse in the conduct of Imogen--as her +concealed marriage and her flight from her father's court--and serve to +call out several of the most beautiful and striking parts of her +character: particularly that decision and vivacity of temper, which in +her harmonize so beautifully with exceeding delicacy, sweetness, and +submission. + +In the scene with her detested suitor, there is at first a careless +majesty of disdain, which is admirable. + + I am much sorry, sir, + You put me to forget a lady's manners, + By being so verbal;[62] and learn now, for all, + That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce, + By the very truth of it, I care not for you, + And am so near the lack of charity, + (T' accuse myself,) I hate you; which I had rather + You felt, than make 't my boast. + +But when he dares to provoke her, by reviling the absent Posthumus, her +indignation heightens her scorn, and her scorn sets a keener edge on her +indignation. + + CLOTEN. + + For the contract you pretend with that base wretch, + One bred of alms, and fostered with cold dishes, + With scraps o' the court; it is no contract, none. + + IMOGEN. + + Profane fellow! + Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more, + But what thou art, besides, thou wert too base + To be his groom; thou wert dignified enough, + Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made + Comparative for your virtues, to be styl'd + The under hangman of his kingdom; and hated + For being preferr'd so well. + + He never can meet more mischance than come + To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment + That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer + In my respect, than all the hairs above thee. + Were they all made such men. + +One thing more must be particularly remarked because it serves to +individualize the character from the beginning to the end of the poem. +We are constantly sensible that Imogen, besides being a tender and +devoted woman, is a princess and a beauty, at the same time that she is +ever superior to her position and her external charms. There is, for +instance, a certain airy majesty of deportment--a spirit of accustomed +command breaking out every now and then--the dignity, without the +assumption of rank and royal birth, which is apparent in the scene with +Cloten and elsewhere; and we have not only a general impression that +Imogen, like other heroines, is beautiful, but the peculiar style and +character of her beauty is placed before us: we have an image of the +most luxuriant loveliness, combined with exceeding delicacy, and even +fragility of person: of the most refined elegance, and the most +exquisite modesty, set forth in one or two passages of description; as +when Iachimo is contemplating her asleep:-- + + Cytherea, + How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily. + And whiter than the sheets. + + 'Tis her breathing that + Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o' the taper + Bows toward her; and would underpeep her lids + To see the enclos'd lights, now canopied + Under those windows, white and azure, lac'd + With blue of heaven's own tinct! + +The preservation of her feminine character under her masculine attire; +her delicacy, her modesty, and her timidity, are managed with the same +perfect consistency and unconscious grace as in Viola. And we must not +forget that her "neat cookery," which is so prettily eulogized by +Guiderius:-- + + He cuts out roots in characters, + And sauc'd our broths, as Juno had been sick, + And he her dieter, + +formed part of the education of a princess in those remote times. + +Few reflections of a general nature are put into the mouth of Imogen; +and what she says is more remarkable for sense, truth, and tender +feeling, than for wit, or wisdom, or power of imagination. The following +little touch of poetry reminds us of Juliet:-- + + Ere I could + Give him that parting kiss, which I had set + Between two charming words, comes in my father; + And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, + Shakes all our buds from growing. + +Her exclamation on opening her husband's letter reminds us of the +profound and thoughtful tenderness of Helen:-- + + O learned indeed were that astronomer + That knew the stars, as I his characters! + He'd lay the future open. + +The following are more in the manner of Isabel:-- + + Most miserable + Is the desire that's glorious: bless'd be those, + How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, + That seasons comfort, + Against self-slaughter + There is a prohibition so divine + That cravens my weak hand. + + Thus may poor fools + Believe false teachers; though those that are betray'd + Do feel the reason sharply, yet the traitor + Stands in worse case of woe, + Are we not brothers? + + So man and man should be; + But clay and clay differs in dignity, + Whose dust is both alike. + + Will poor folks lie + That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis + A punishment or trial? Yes: no wonder, + When rich ones scarce tell true: to lapse in fulness + Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood + Is worse in kings than beggars. + +The sentence which follows, and which I believe has become proverbial, +has much of the manner of Portia, both in the thought and the +expression:-- + + Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night, + Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume + Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it; + In a great pool, a swan's nest; pr'ythee, think + There's livers out of Britain. + + * * * * * + +The catastrophe of this play has been much admired for the peculiar +skill with which all the various threads of interest are gathered +together at last, and entwined with the destiny of Imogen. It may be +added, that one of its chief beauties is the manner in which the +character of Imogen is not only preserved, but rises upon us to the +conclusion with added grace: her instantaneous forgiveness of her +husband before he even asks it, when she flings herself at once into his +arms-- + + Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? + +and her magnanimous reply to her father, when he tells her, that by the +discovery of her two brothers she has lost a kingdom-- + + No--I have gain'd two worlds by it-- + +clothing a noble sentiment in a noble image, give the finishing touches +of excellence to this most enchanting portrait. + +On the whole, Imogen is a lovely compound of goodness, truth, and +affection, with just so much of passion and intellect and poetry, as +serve to lend to the picture that power and glowing richness of effect +which it would otherwise have wanted; and of her it might be said, if we +could condescend to quote from any other poet with Shakespeare open +before us, that "her person was a paradise, and her soul the cherub to +guard it."[63] + + +CORDELIA. + +There is in the beauty of Cordelia's character an effect too sacred for +words, and almost too deep for tears; within her heart is a fathomless +well of purest affection, but its waters sleep in silence and +obscurity,--never failing in their depth and never overflowing in their +fulness. Every thing in her seems to lie beyond our view, and affects us +in a manner which we feel rather than perceive. The character appears to +have no surface, no salient points upon which the fancy can readily +seize: there is little external development of intellect, less of +passion, and still less of imagination. It is completely made out in the +course of a few scenes, and we are surprised to find that in those few +scenes there is matter for a life of reflection, and materials enough +for twenty heroines. If Lear be the grandest of Shakspeare's tragedies, +Cordelia in herself, as a human being, governed by the purest and +holiest impulses and motives, the most refined from all dross of +selfishness and passion, approaches near to perfection; and in her +adaptation, as a dramatic personage, to a determinate plan of action, +may be pronounced altogether perfect. The character, to speak of it +critically as a poetical conception, is not, however, to be comprehended +at once, or easily; and in the same manner Cordelia, as a woman, is one +whom we must have loved before we could have known her, and known her +long before we could have known her truly. + +Most people, I believe, have heard the story of the young German artist +Mueller, who, while employed in copying and engraving Raffaelle's Madonna +del Sisto, was so penetrated by its celestial beauty, so distrusted his +own power to do justice to it, that between admiration and despair he +fell into a sadness; thence through the usual gradations, into a +melancholy, thence into madness; and died just as he had put the +finishing stroke to his own matchless work, which had occupied him for +eight years. With some slight tinge of this concentrated kind of +enthusiasm I have learned to contemplate the character of Cordelia; I +have looked into it till the revelation of its hidden beauty, and an +intense feeling of the wonderful genius which created it, have filled me +at once with delight and despair. Like poor Mueller, but with more +reason, I _do_ despair of ever conveying, through a different and +inferior medium, the impression made on my own mind to the mind of +another. + +Schlegel, the most eloquent of critics, concludes his remarks on King +Lear with these words: "Of the heavenly beauty of soul of Cordelia, I +will not venture to speak." Now if I attempt what Schlegel and others +have left undone, it is because I feel that this general acknowledgment +of her excellence can neither satisfy those who have studied the +character, nor convey a just conception of it to the mere reader. Amid +the awful, the overpowering interest of the story, amid the terrible +convulsions of passion and suffering, and pictures of moral and physical +wretchedness which harrow up the soul, the tender influence of Cordelia, +like that of a celestial visitant, is felt and acknowledged without +being quite understood. Like a soft star that shines for a moment from +behind a stormy cloud and the next is swallowed up in tempest and +darkness, the impression it leaves is beautiful and deep,--but vague. +Speak of Cordelia to a critic or to a general reader, all agree in the +beauty of the portrait, for all must feel it; but when we come to +details, I have heard more various and opposite opinions relative to her +than any other of Shakspeare's characters--a proof of what I have +advanced in the first instance, that from the simplicity with which the +character is dramatically treated, and the small space it occupies, few +are aware of its internal power, or its wonderful depth of purpose. + +It appears to me that the whole character rests upon the two sublimest +principles of human action, the love of truth and the sense of duty; but +these, when they stand alone, (as in the Antigone,) are apt to strike us +as severe and cold. Shakspeare has, therefore, wreathed them round with +the dearest attributes of our feminine nature, the power of feeling and +inspiring affection. The first part of the play shows us how Cordelia is +loved, the second part how she can love. To her father she is the object +of a secret preference, his agony at her supposed unkindness draws from +him the confession, that he had loved her most, and "thought to set his +rest on her kind nursery." Till then she had been "his best object, the +argument of his praise, balm of his age, most best, most dearest!" The +faithful and worthy Kent is ready to brave death and exile in her +defence: and afterwards a farther impression of her benign sweetness is +conveyed in a simple and beautiful manner, when we are told that "since +the lady Cordelia went to France, her father's poor fool had much pined +away." We have her sensibility "when patience and sorrow strove which +should express her goodliest:" and all her filial tenderness when she +commits her poor father to the care of the physician, when she hangs +over him as he is sleeping, and kisses him as she contemplates the wreck +of grief and majesty. + + O my dear father! restoration hang + Its medicine on my lips: and let this kiss + Repair those violent harms that my two sisters + Have in thy reverence made! + Had you not been their father, these white flakes + Had challenged pity of them! Was this a face + To be exposed against the warring winds, + To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder + In the most terrible and nimble stroke + Of quick cross lightning? to watch, (poor perdu!) + With thin helm? mine enemy's dog, + Though he had bit me, should have stood that night + Against my fire. + +Her mild magnanimity shines out in her farewell to her sisters, of whose +real character she is perfectly aware:-- + + Ye jewels of our father! with washed eyes + Cordelia leaves you! I know ye what ye are, + And like a sister, am most loath to call + Your faults as they are nam'd. Use well our father, + To your professed bosoms I commit him. + But yet, alas! stood I within his grace, + I would commend him to a better place; + So farewell to you both. + + GONERIL. + + Prescribe not us our duties! + +The modest pride with which she replies to the Duke of Burgundy is +admirable; this whole passage is too illustrative of the peculiar +character of Cordelia, as well as too exquisite, to be mutilated + + I yet beseech your majesty, + (If, for I want that glib and oily heart, + To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend + I'll do't before I speak,) that you make known, + It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, + No unchaste action, or dishonored step + That hath deprived me of your grace and favor; + But even for want of that, for which I am richer; + A still soliciting eye, and such a tongue + I am glad I have not, tho' not to have it + Hath lost me in your liking. + + LEAR. + + Better thou + Hadst not been born, than not to have pleased me better. + + FRANCE. + + Is it but this? a tardiness of nature, + That often leaves the history unspoke + Which it intends to do?--My lord of Burgundy, + What say you to the lady? love is not love + When it is mingled with respects that stand + Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? + She is herself a dowry. + + BURGUNDY. + + Royal Lear, + Give but that portion which yourself proposed, + And here I take Cordelia by the hand + Duchess of Burgundy. + + LEAR. + + Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + + BURGUNDY. + + I am sorry, then, you have lost a father + That you must lose a husband. + + CORDELIA. + + Peace be with Burgundy! + Since that respects of fortune are his love, + I shall not be his wife. + + FRANCE. + + Fairest Cordelia! thou art more rich, being poor, + Most choice, forsaken, and most lov'd, despised! + Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon. + +She takes up arms, "not for ambition, but a dear father's right." In her +speech after her defeat, we have a calm fortitude and elevation of soul, +arising from the consciousness of duty, and lifting her above all +consideration of self. She observes,-- + + We are not the first + Who with best meaning have incurred the worst! + +She thinks and fears only for her father. + + For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down; + Myself would else out-frown false fortune's frown. + +To complete the picture, her very voice is characteristic, "ever soft, +gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman." + +But it will be said, that the qualities here exemplified--as +sensibility, gentleness, magnanimity, fortitude, generous affection--are +qualities which belong, in their perfection, to others of Shakspeare's +characters--to Imogen, for instance, who unites them all; and yet Imogen +and Cordelia are wholly unlike each other. Even though we should reverse +their situations, and give to Imogen the filial devotion of Cordelia, +and to Cordelia the conjugal virtues of Imogen, still they would remain +perfectly distinct as women. What is it, then, which lends to Cordelia +that peculiar and individual truth of character, which distinguishes her +from every other human being? + +It is a natural reserve, a tardiness of disposition, "which often leaves +the history unspoke which it intends to do;" a subdued quietness of +deportment and expression, a veiled shyness thrown over all her +emotions, her language and her manner; making the outward demonstration +invariably fall short of what we know to be the feeling within. Not only +is the portrait singularly beautiful and interesting in itself, but the +conduct of Cordelia, and the part which she bears in the beginning of +the story, is rendered consistent and natural by the wonderful truth and +delicacy with which this peculiar disposition is sustained throughout +the play. + +In early youth, and more particularly if we are gifted with a lively +imagination, such a character as that of Cordelia is calculated above +every other to impress and captivate us. Any thing like mystery, any +thing withheld or withdrawn from our notice, seizes on our fancy by +awakening our curiosity. Then we are won more by what we half perceive +and half create, than by what is openly expressed and freely bestowed. +But this feeling is a part of our young life: when time and years have +chilled us, when we can no longer afford to send our souls abroad, nor +from our own superfluity of life and sensibility spare the materials out +of which we build a shrine for our idol--then do we seek, we ask, we +thirst for that warmth of frank, confiding tenderness, which revives in +us the withered affections and feelings, buried but not dead. Then the +excess of love is welcomed, not repelled: it is gracious to us as the +sun and dew to the seared and riven trunk, with its few green leaves. +Lear is old--"fourscore and upward"--but we see what he has been in +former days: the ardent passions of youth have turned to rashness and +wilfulness: he is long passed that age when we are more blessed in what +we bestow than in what we receive. When he says to his daughters, "I +gave ye all!" we feel that he requires all in return, with a jealous, +restless, exacting affection which defeats its own wishes. How many such +are there in the world! How many to sympathize with the fiery, fond old +man, when he shrinks as if petrified from Cordelia's quiet calm reply! + + LEAR. + + Now our joy, + Although the last not least-- + What can you say to draw + A third more opulent than your sisters'? Speak! + + CORDELIA. + + Nothing, my lord. + + LEAR. + + Nothing! + + CORDELIA. + + Nothing. + + LEAR. + + Nothing can come of nothing: speak again! + + CORDELIA. + + Unhappy that I am! I cannot heave + My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty + According to my bond; nor more, nor less. + +Now this is perfectly natural. Cordelia has penetrated the vile +characters of her sisters. Is it not obvious, that, in proportion as her +own mind is pure and guileless, she must be disgusted with their gross +hypocrisy and exaggeration, their empty protestations, their "plaited +cunning;" and would retire from all competition with what she so +disdains and abhors,--even into the opposite extreme? In such a case, as +she says herself-- + + What should Cordelia do?--love and be silent? + +For the very expressions of Lear-- + + What can you say to draw + A third more opulent than your sisters'? + +are enough to strike dumb forever a generous, delicate, but shy +disposition, such as Cordelia's, by holding out a bribe for professions. + +If Cordelia were not thus portrayed, this deliberate coolness would +strike us as verging on harshness or obstinacy; but it is beautifully +represented as a certain modification of character, the necessary result +of feelings habitually, if not naturally, repressed: and through the +whole play we trace the same peculiar and individual disposition--the +same absence of all display--the same sobriety of speech veiling the +most profound affections--the same quiet steadiness of purpose--the same +shrinking from all exhibition of emotion. + +"Tous les sentimens naturels ont leur pudeur," was a _viva voce_ +observation of Madame de Stael, when disgusted by the sentimental +affectation of her imitators. This "pudeur," carried to an excess, +appears to me the peculiar characteristic of Cordelia. Thus, in the +description of her deportment when she receives the letter of the Earl +of Kent, informing her of the cruelty of her sisters and the wretched +condition of Lear, we seem to have her before us:-- + + KENT. + + Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? + + GENTLEMAN. + + Ay, sir, she took them, and read them in my presence + And now and then an ample tear stole down + Her delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen + Over her passion; who, most rebel-like + Sought to be king over her. + + KENT. + + O then it moved her! + + GENTLEMAN. + + Not to a rage. + Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of father + Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart, + Cried, _Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! Sisters! + What, i' the storm? i' the night? + Let pity not be believed._ Then she shook + The holy water from her heavenly eyes; + + * * * * + + Then away she started, + To deal with grief alone. + +Here the last line--the image brought before us of Cordelia starting +away from observation, "to deal with grief alone," is as exquisitely +beautiful as it is characteristic. + +But all the passages hitherto quoted must yield in beauty and power to +that scene, in which her poor father recognizes her, and in the +intervals of distraction asks forgiveness of his wronged child. The +subdued pathos and simplicity of Cordelia's character, her quiet but +intense feeling, the misery and humiliation of the bewildered old man, +are brought before us in so few words, and at the same time sustained +with such a deep intuitive knowledge of the innermost workings of the +human heart, that as there is nothing surpassing this scene in +Shakspeare himself, so there is nothing that can be compared to it in +any other writer. + + CORDELIA. + + How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? + + LEAR. + + You do me wrong to take me out of the grave. + Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound + Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears + Do scald like molten lead. + + CORDELIA. + + Sir, do you know me? + + LEAR. + + You are a spirit, I know: when did you die? + + CORDELIA. + + Still, still far wide! + + PHYSICIAN. + + He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile. + + LEAR. + + Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight! + I am mightily abused. I should even die with pity + To see another thus. I know not what to say. + I will not swear these are my hands: Let's see. + I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured + Of my condition. + + CORDELIA. + + O look upon me, sir, + And hold your hands in benediction o'er me-- + No, sir, you must not kneel. + + LEAR. + + Pray, do not mock me: + I am a very foolish, fond old man, + Fourscore and upwards; and to deal plainly with you, + I fear I am not in my perfect mind. + Methinks I should know you, and know this man, + Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant + What place this is; and all the skill I have + Remembers not these garments; nor I know not + Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me; + For as I am a man, I think this lady + To be my child Cordelia. + + CORDELIA. + + And so I am, I am. + + LEAR. + + Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray you weep not + If you have poison for me I will drink it. + I know you do not love me; for your sisters + Have, as I do remember, done me wrong: + You have some cause, they have not. + + CORDELIA. + + No cause, no cause! + +As we do not estimate Cordelia's affection for her father by the +coldness of her language, so neither should we measure her indignation +against her sisters by the mildness of her expressions. What, in fact, +can be more eloquently significant, and at the same time more +characteristic of Cordelia, than the single line when she and her father +are conveyed to their prison:-- + + Shall we not see these _daughters_ and these _sisters_? + +The irony here is so bitter and intense, and at the same time so quiet, +so feminine, so dignified in the expression, that who but Cordelia would +have uttered it in the same manner, or would have condensed such ample +meaning into so few and simple words? + +We lose sight of Cordelia during the whole of the second and third, and +great part of the fourth act; but towards the conclusion she reappears. +Just as our sense of human misery and wickedness being carried to its +extreme height, becomes nearly intolerable, "like an engine wrenching +our frame of nature from its fixed place," then, like a redeeming angel, +she descends to mingle in the scene, "loosening the springs of pity in +our eyes," and relieving the impressions of pain and terror by those of +admiration and a tender pleasure. For the catastrophe, it is indeed +terrible! wondrous terrible! When Lear enters with Cordelia dead in his +arms, compassion and awe so seize on all our faculties, that we are left +only to silence and to tears. But if I might judge from my own +sensations, the catastrophe of Lear is not so overwhelming as the +catastrophe of Othello. We do not turn away with the same feeling of +absolute unmitigated despair. Cordelia is a saint ready prepared for +heaven--our earth is not good enough for her: and Lear!--O who, after +sufferings and tortures such as his, would wish to see his life +prolonged? What replace a sceptre in that shaking hand?--a crown upon +that old gray head, on which the tempest had poured in its wrath?--on +which the deep dread bolted thunders and the winged lightnings had spent +their fury? O never, never! + + Let him pass! he hates him + That would upon the rack of this rough world + Stretch him out longer. + +In the story of King Lear and his three daughters, as it is related in +the "delectable and mellifluous" romance of Perceforest, and in the +Chronicle of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the conclusion is fortunate. Cordelia +defeats her sisters, and replaces her father on his throne. Spenser, in +his version of the story, has followed these authorities. Shakspeare has +preferred the catastrophe of the old ballad, founded apparently on some +lost tradition. I suppose it is by way of amending his errors, and +bringing back this daring innovator to sober history, that it has been +thought fit to alter the play of Lear for the stage, as they have +altered Romeo and Juliet: they have converted the seraph-like Cordelia +into a puling love heroine, and sent her off victorious at the end of +the play--exit with drums and colors flying--to be married to Edgar. Now +any thing more absurd, more discordant with all our previous +impressions, and with the characters as unfolded to us, can hardly be +imagined. "I cannot conceive," says Schlegel, "what ideas of art and +dramatic connection those persons have, who suppose we can at pleasure +tack a double conclusion to a tragedy--a melancholy one for hard-hearted +spectators, and a merry one for those of softer mould." The fierce +manners depicted in this play, the extremes of virtue and vice in the +persons, belong to the remote period of the story.[64] There is no +attempt at character in the old narratives; Regan and Goneril are +monsters of ingratitude, and Cordelia merely distinguished by her filial +piety; whereas, in Shakspeare, this filial piety is an affection quite +distinct from the qualities which serve to individualize the human +being; we have a perception of innate character apart from all +accidental circumstance: we see that if Cordelia had never known her +father, had never been rejected from his love, had never been a born +princess or a crowned queen, she would not have been less Cordelia; less +distinctly _herself_; that is, a woman of a steady mind, of calm but +deep affections, of inflexible truth, of few words, and of reserved +deportment. + +As to Regan and Goneril--"tigers, not daughters"--we might wish to +regard them as mere hateful chimeras, impossible as they are detestable; +but fortunately there was once a Tullia. I know not where to look for +the prototype of Cordelia: there was a Julia Alpinula, the young +priestess of Aventicum,[65] who, unable to save her father's life by the +sacrifice of her own, died with him--"_infelix patris, infelix +proles_"--but this is all we know of her. There was the Roman daughter, +too. I remember seeing at Genoa, Guido's "Pieta Romana," in which the +expression of the female bending over the aged parent, who feeds from +her bosom, is perfect,--but it is not a Cordelia: only Raffaelle could +have painted Cordelia. + +But the character which at once suggests itself in comparison with +Cordelia, as the heroine of filial tenderness and piety, is certainly +the Antigone of Sophocles. As poetical conceptions, they rest on the +same basis: they are both pure abstractions of truth, piety, and natural +affection; and in both, love, as a passion, is kept entirely out of +sight: for though the womanly character is sustained, by making them the +objects of devoted attachment, yet to have portrayed them as influenced +by passion, would have destroyed that unity of purpose and feeling which +is one source of power; and, besides, have disturbed that serene purity +and grandeur of soul, which equally distinguishes both heroines. The +spirit, however, in which the two characters are conceived, is as +different as possible; and we must not fail to remark, that Antigone, +who plays a principal part in two fine tragedies, and is distinctly and +completely made out, is considered as a masterpiece, the very triumph of +the ancient classical drama; whereas, there are many among Shakspeare's +characters which are equal to Cordelia as dramatic conceptions, and +superior to her in finishing of outline, as well as in the richness of +the poetical coloring. + +When Oedipus, pursued by the vengeance of the gods, deprived of sight +by his own mad act, and driven from Thebes by his subjects and his sons, +wanders forth, abject and forlorn, he is supported by his daughter +Antigone; who leads him from city to city, begs for him, and pleads for +him against the harsh, rude men, who, struck more by his guilt than his +misery, would drive him from his last asylum. In the opening of the +"Oedipus Coloneus," where the wretched old man appears leaning on his +child, and seats himself in the consecrated Grove of the Furies, the +picture presented to us is wonderfully solemn and beautiful. The +patient, duteous tenderness of Antigone; the scene in which she pleads +for her brother Polynices, and supplicates her father to receive his +offending son; her remonstrance to Polynices, when she entreats him not +to carry the threatened war into his native country, are finely and +powerfully delineated; and in her lamentation over Oedipus, when he +perishes in the mysterious grove, there is a pathetic beauty, apparent +even through the stiffness of the translation. + + Alas! I only wished I might have died + With my poor father; wherefore should I ask + For longer life? + O I was fond of misery with him; + E'en what was most unlovely grew beloved + When he was with me. O my dearest father, + Beneath the earth now in deep darkness hid, + Worn as thou wert with age, to me thou still + Wert dear, and shalt be ever. + --Even as he wished he died, + In a strange land--for such was his desire-- + A shady turf covered his lifeless limbs, + Nor unlamented fell! for O these eyes, + My father, still shall weep for thee, nor time + E'er blot thee from my memory. + +The filial piety of Antigone is the most affecting part of the tragedy +of "Oedipus Coloneus:" her sisterly affection, and her heroic +self-devotion to a religious duty, form the plot of the tragedy called +by her name. When her two brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, had slain +each other before the walls of Thebes, Creon issued an edict forbidding +the rites of sepulture to Polynices, (as the invader of his country,) +and awarding instant death to those who should dare to bury him. We know +the importance which the ancients attached to the funeral obsequies, as +alone securing their admission into the Elysian fields. Antigone, upon +hearing the law of Creon, which thus carried vengeance beyond the grave, +enters in the first scene, announcing her fixed resolution to brave the +threatened punishment: her sister Ismene shrinks from sharing the peril +of such an undertaking, and endeavors to dissuade her from it, on which +Antigone replies:-- + + Wert thou to proffer what I do not ask-- + Thy poor assistance--I would scorn it now; + Act as thou wilt, I'll bury him myself: + Let me perform but that, and death is welcome. + I'll do the pious deed, and lay me down + By my dear brother; loving and beloved, + We'll rest together. + +She proceeds to execute her generous purpose; she covers with earth the +mangled corse of Polynices, pours over it the accustomed libations, is +detected in her pious office, and after nobly defending her conduct, is +led to death by command of the tyrant: her sister Ismene, struck with +shame and remorse, now comes forward to accuse herself as a partaker in +the offence, and share her sister's punishment; but Antigone sternly and +scornfully rejects her; and after pouring forth a beautiful lamentation +on the misery of perishing "without the nuptial song--a virgin and a +slave," she dies _a l'antique_--she strangles herself to avoid a +lingering death. + +Hemon, the son of Creon, unable to save her life, kills himself upon her +grave: but throughout the whole tragedy we are left in doubt whether +Antigone does or does not return the affection of this devoted lover. + +Thus it will be seen that in the Antigone there is a great deal of what +may be called the effect of situation, as well as a great deal of poetry +and character: she says the most beautiful things in the world, performs +the most heroic actions, and all her words and actions are so placed +before us as to _command_ our admiration. According to the classical +ideas of virtue and heroism, the character is sublime, and in the +delineation there is a severe simplicity mingled with its Grecian grace, +a unity, a grandeur, an elegance, which appeal to our taste and our +understanding, while they fill and exalt the imagination: but in +Cordelia it is not the external coloring or form, it is not what she +says or does, but what she is in herself, what she feels, thinks, and +suffers, which continually awaken our sympathy and interest. The heroism +of Cordelia is more passive and tender--it melts into our heart; and in +the veiled loveliness and unostentatious delicacy of her character, +there is an effect more profound and artless, if it be less striking and +less elaborate than in the Grecian heroine. To Antigone we give our +admiration, to Cordelia our tears. Antigone stands before us in her +austere and statue-like beauty, like one of the marbles of the +Parthenon. If Cordelia reminds us of any thing on earth, it is of one of +the Madonnas in the old Italian pictures, "with downcast eyes beneath +th' almighty dove?" and as that heavenly form is connected with our +human sympathies only by the expression of maternal tenderness or +maternal sorrow, even so Cordelia would be almost too angelic, were she +not linked to our earthly feelings, bound to our very hearts, by her +filial love, her wrongs, her sufferings, and her tears. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[48] + + ----The gods approve + The depth, and not the tumult of the soul. + + WORDSWORTH. + +"Il pouvait y avoir des vagues majestueuses et non de l'orage sans son +coeur," was finely observed of Madame de Stael in her maturer years; it +would have been true of Hermione at any period of her life. + +[49] Winter's Tale, act v scene 11 + +[50] Only in the last scene, when, with solemnity befitting the +occasion, Paulina invokes the majestic figure to "descend, and be stone +no more," and where she presents her daughter to her. "Turn, good lady! +our Perdita is found." + +[51] Act iii, scene 3. + +[52] Which being interpreted into modern English, means, I believe, +nothing more than that the pattern was what we now call _arabesque_. + +[53] There is an incident in the original tale, "Il Moro di Venezia," +which could not well be transferred to the drama, but which is very +effective, and adds, I think, to the circumstantial horrors of the +story. Desdemona does not accidentally drop the handkerchief; it is +stolen from her by Iago's little child, an infant of three years old, +whom he trains and bribes to the theft. The love of Desdemona for this +child, her little playfellow--the pretty description of her taking it in +her arms and caressing it, while it profits by its situation to steal +the handkerchief from her bosom, are well imagined, and beautifully +told; and the circumstance of Iago employing his own innocent child as +the instrument of his infernal villany, adds a deeper, and, in truth an +unnecessary touch of the fiend, to his fiendish character. + +[54] Consequences are so linked together, that the exclamation of +Emilia, + + O thou dull Moor!--That handkerchief thou speakest of + I found by fortune, and did give my husband!-- + +is sufficient to reveal to Othello the whole history of his ruin. + +[55] Decamerone. Novella, 9mo. Giornata, 2do. + +[56] _Vide_ Dr. Johnson, and Dunlop's History of Fiction. + +[57] See Hazlitt and Schlegel on the catastrophe of Cymbeline. + +[58] More rare--_i. e._ more exquisitely poignant. + +[59] Characters of Shakspeare's Plays. + +[60] _Vide_ act 1. scene 7. + +[61] The character of Cloten has been pronounced by some unnatural, by +others inconsistent, and by others obsolete. The following passage +occurs in one of Miss Seward's letters, vol. iii p. 246: "It is curious +that Shakspeare should, in so singular a character as Cloten, have given +the exact prototype of a being whom I once knew. The unmeaning frown of +countenance, the shuffling gait, the burst of voice, the bustling +insignificance, the fever and ague fits of valor, the froward +tetchiness, the unprincipled malice, and, what is more curious, those +occasional gleams of good sense amidst the floating clouds of folly +which generally darkened and confused the man's brain, and which, in the +character of Cloten, we are apt to impute to a violation of unity in +character; but in the some-time Captain C----, I saw that the portrait +of Cloten was not out of nature." + +[62] i. e. _full of words_. + +[63] Dryden. + +[64] King Lear may be supposed to have lived about one thousand years +before the Christian era, being the forth or fifth in descent from King +Brut, the great-grandson of AEneas, and the fabulous founder of the +kingdom of Britain. + +[65] She is commemorated by Lord Byron. _Vide_ Childe Harold Canto iii. + + + + +HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. + + +CLEOPATRA. + +I cannot agree with one of the most philosophical of Shakspeare's +critics, who has asserted "that the actual truth of particular events, +in proportion as we are conscious of it, is a drawback on the pleasure +as well as the dignity of tragedy." If this observation applies at all, +it is equally just with regard to characters: and in either case can we +admit it? The reverence and the simpleness of heart with which +Shakspeare has treated the received and admitted truths of history--I +mean according to the imperfect knowledge of his time--is admirable; his +inaccuracies are few: his general accuracy, allowing for the distinction +between the narrative and the dramatic form, is acknowledged to be +wonderful. He did not steal the precious material from the treasury of +history, to debase its purity,--new-stamp it arbitrarily with effigies +and legends of his own devising and then attempt to pass it current, +like Dryden, Racine, and the rest of those poetical coiners: he only +rubbed off the rust, purified and brightened it, so that history herself +has been known to receive it back as sterling. + +Truth, wherever manifested, should be sacred: so Shakspeare deemed, and +laid no profane hand upon her altars. But tragedy--majestic tragedy, is +worthy to stand before the sanctuary of Truth, and to be the priestess +of her oracles. "Whatever in religion is holy and sublime, in virtue +amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admiration in all the +changes of that which is called fortune from without, or the wily +subtleties and refluxes of man's thought from within;"[66]--whatever is +pitiful in the weakness, sublime in the strength, or terrible in the +perversion of human intellect, these are the domain of Tragedy. Sibyl +and Muse at once, she holds aloft the book of human fate, and is the +interpreter of its mysteries. It is not, then, making a mock of the +serious sorrows of real life, nor of those human beings who lived, +suffered and acted upon this earth, to array them in her rich and +stately robes, and present them before us as powers evoked from dust and +darkness, to awaken the generous sympathies, the terror or the pity of +mankind. It does not add to the pain, as far as tragedy is a source of +emotion, that the wrongs and sufferings represented, the guilt of Lady +Macbeth, the despair of Constance, the arts of Cleopatra, and the +distresses of Katherine, had a real existence; but it adds infinitely to +the moral effect, as a subject of contemplation and a lesson of +conduct.[67] + +I shall be able to illustrate these observations more fully in the +course of this section, in which we will consider those characters which +are drawn from history; and first, Cleopatra. + +Of all Shakspeare's female characters, Miranda and Cleopatra appear to +me the most wonderful. The first, unequalled as a poetic conception; the +latter, miraculous as a work of art. If we could make a regular +classification of his characters, these would form the two extremes of +simplicity and complexity; and all his other characters would be found +to fill up some shade or gradation between these two. + +Great crimes, springing from high passions, grafted on high qualities, +are the legitimate source of tragic poetry. But to make the extreme of +littleness produce an effect like grandeur--to make the excess of +frailty produce an effect like power--to heap up together all that is +most unsubstantial, frivolous, vain, contemptible, and variable, till +the worthlessness be lost in the magnitude, and a sense of the sublime +spring from the very elements of littleness,--to do this, belonged only +to Shakspeare that worker of miracles. Cleopatra is a brilliant +antithesis, a compound of contradictions, of all that we most hate, +with what we most admire. The whole character is the triumph of the +external over the innate; and yet like one of her country's +hieroglyphics, though she present at first view a splendid and +perplexing anomaly, there is deep meaning and wondrous skill in the +apparent enigma, when we come to analyze and decipher it. But how are we +to arrive at the solution of this glorious riddle, whose dazzling +complexity continually mocks and eludes us? What is most astonishing in +the character of Cleopatra is its antithetical construction--its +_consistent inconsistency_, if I may use such an expression--which +renders it quite impossible to reduce it to any elementary principles. +It will, perhaps, be found on the whole, that vanity and the love of +power predominate; but I dare not say it _is_ so, for these qualities +and a hundred others mingle into each other, and shift and change, and +glance away, like the colors in a peacock's train. + +In some others of Shakspeare's female characters, also remarkable for +their complexity, (Portia and Juliet, for instance,) we are struck with +the delightful sense of harmony in the midst of contrast, so that the +idea of unity and simplicity of effect is produced in the midst of +variety; but in Cleopatra it is the absence of unity and simplicity +which strikes us; the impression is that of perpetual and irreconcilable +contrast. The continual approximation of whatever is most opposite in +character, in situation, in sentiment, would be fatiguing, were it not +so perfectly natural: the woman herself would be distracting, if she +were not so enchanting. + +I have not the slightest doubt that Shakspeare's Cleopatra is the real +historical Cleopatra--the "Rare Egyptian"--individualized and placed +before us. Her mental accomplishments, her unequalled grace, her woman's +wit and woman's wiles, her irresistible allurements, her starts of +irregular grandeur, her bursts of ungovernable temper, her vivacity of +imagination, her petulant caprice, her fickleness and her falsehood, her +tenderness and her truth, her childish susceptibility to flattery, her +magnificent spirit, her royal pride, the gorgeous eastern coloring of +the character; all these contradictory elements has Shakspeare seized, +mingled them in their extremes, and fused them into one brilliant +impersonation of classical elegance, Oriental voluptuousness, and gipsy +sorcery. + +What better proof can we have of the individual truth of the character +than the admission that Shakspeare's Cleopatra produces exactly the same +effect on us that is recorded of the real Cleopatra? She dazzles our +faculties, perplexes our judgment, bewilders and bewitches our fancy; +from the beginning to the end of the drama, we are conscious of a kind +of fascination against which our moral sense rebels, but from which +there is no escape. The epithets applied to her perpetually +by Antony and others confirm this impression: "enchanting +queen!"--"witch"--"spell"--"great fairy"--"cockatrice"--"serpent of old +Nile"--"thou grave charm!"[68] are only a few of them; and who does not +know by heart the famous quotations in which this Egyptian Circe is +described with all her infinite seductions? + + Fie! wrangling queen! + Whom every thing becomes--to chide, to laugh, + To weep; whose every passion fully strives + To make itself, in thee, fair and admired. + + Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale + Her infinite variety:-- + For vilest things + Become themselves in her. + +And the pungent irony of Enobarbus has well exposed her feminine arts, +when he says, on the occasion of Antony's intended departure,-- + + Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies + instantly: I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer + moment. + + ANTONY. + + She is cunning past man's thought. + + ENOBARBUS. + + Alack, sir, no! her passions are made of nothing but the + finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and + waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and + tempests than almanacs can report; this cannot be cunning + in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as + Jove. + +The whole secret of her absolute dominion over the facile Antony may be +found in one little speech:-- + + See where he is--who's with him--what he does-- + (I did not send you.) If you find him sad, + Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report + That I am sudden sick! Quick! and return. + + CHARMIAN. + + Madam, methinks if you did love him dearly, + You do not hold the method to enforce + The like from him. + + CLEOPATRA. + + What should I do, I do not? + + CHARMIAN. + + In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. + + CHARMIAN. + + Tempt him not too far. + +But Cleopatra is a mistress of her art, and knows better: and what a +picture of her triumphant petulance, her imperious and imperial +coquetry, is given in her own words! + + That time--O times! + I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night + I laughed him into patience: and next morn, + Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; + Then put my tires and mantles on, whilst + I wore his sword, Philippan. + +When Antony enters full of some serious purpose which he is about to +impart, the woman's perverseness, and the tyrannical waywardness with +which she taunts him and plays upon his temper, are admirably depicted. + + I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. + What says the married woman?[69] You may go; + Would she had never given you leave to come! + Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here; + I have no power upon you; hers you are. + + ANTONY. + + The gods best know-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + O, never was there queen + So mightily betray'd! Yet at the first, + I saw the treasons planted. + + ANTONY. + + Cleopatra! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Why should I think you can be mine, and true, + Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, + Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness + To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, + Which break themselves in swearing! + + ANTONY. + + Most sweet queen! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Nay, pray you, seek no color for your going, + But bid farewell, and go. + +She recovers her dignity for a moment at the news of Fulvia's death, as +if roused by a blow:-- + + Though age from folly could not give me freedom, + It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die? + +And then follows the artful mockery with which she tempts and provokes +him, in order to discover whether he regrets his wife. + + O most false love! + Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill + With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see + In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be. + + ANTONY. + + Quarrel no more; but be prepared to know + The purposes I bear: which are, or cease, + As you shall give th' advice. Now, by the fire + That quickens Nilus' shrine, I go from hence + Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war, + As thou affectest. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Cut my lace, Charmian, come--But + let it be. I am quickly ill, and well. + So Antony loves. + + ANTONY. + + My precious queen, forbear: + And give true evidence to his love which stands + An honorable trial. + + CLEOPATRA. + + So Fulvia told me. + I pr'ythee turn aside, and weep for her: + Then bid adieu to me, and say, the tears + Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene + Of excellent dissembling; and let it look + Like perfect honor. + + ANTONY. + + You'll heat my blood--no more. + + CLEOPATRA. + + You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + + ANTONY. + + Now, by my sword-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + And target--still he mends: + But this is not the best. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian, + How this Herculean Roman does become + The carriage of his chafe! + +This is, indeed, most "excellent dissembling;" but when she has fooled +and chafed the Herculean Roman to the verge of danger, then comes that +return of tenderness which secures the power she has tried to the +utmost, and we have all the elegant, the poetical Cleopatra in her +beautiful farewell. + + Forgive me! + Since my becomings kill me when they do not + Eye well to you. Your honor calls you hence, + Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, + And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword + Sit laurell'd victory; and smooth success + Be strew'd before your feet! + +Finer still are the workings of her variable mind and lively +imagination, after Antony's departure; her fond repining at his absence, +her violent spirit, her right royal wilfulness and impatience, as if it +were a wrong to her majesty, an insult to her sceptre, that there should +exist in her despite such things as space and time; and high treason to +her sovereign power, to dare to remember what she chooses to forget + + Give me to drink mandragora, + That I might sleep out this great gap of time + My Antony is away. + + O Charmian! + Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he, + Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? + O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! + Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st? + The demi-Atlas of this earth--the arm + And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, + Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile? + For so he calls me. + Met'st thou my posts? + + ALEXAS. + + Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: + Why do you send so thick? + + CLEOPATRA. + + Who's born that day + When I forget to send to Antony, + Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. + Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, + Ever love Caesar so? + + CHARMIAN. + + O that brave Caesar! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Be chok'd with such another emphasis! + Say, the brave Antony. + + CHARMIAN. + + The valiant Caesar! + + CLEOPATRA. + + By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, + If thou with Caesar paragon again + My man of men! + + CHARMIAN. + + By your most gracious pardon, + I sing but after you. + + CLEOPATRA. + + My salad days, + When I was green in judgment, cold in blood, + To say as I said then. But, come away-- + Get me some ink and paper: he shall have every day + A several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +We learn from Plutarch, that it was a favorite amusement with Antony and +Cleopatra to ramble through the streets at night, and bandy ribald jests +with the populace of Alexandria. From the same authority, we know that +they were accustomed to live on the most familiar terms with their +attendants and the companions of their revels. To these traits we must +add, that with all her violence, perverseness, egotism, and caprice, +Cleopatra mingled a capability for warm affections and kindly feeling, +or rather what we should call in these days, a constitutional +_good-nature_; and was lavishly generous to her favorites and +dependents. These characteristics we find scattered through the play; +they are not only faithfully rendered by Shakspeare, but he has made the +finest use of them in his delineation of manners. Hence the occasional +freedom of her women and her attendants, in the midst of their fears and +flatteries, becomes most natural and consistent: hence, too, their +devoted attachment and fidelity, proved even in death. But as +illustrative of Cleopatra's disposition, perhaps the finest and most +characteristic scene in the whole play, is that in which the messenger +arrives from Rome with the tidings of Antony's marriage with Octavia. +She perceives at once with quickness that all is not well, and she +hastens to anticipate the worst, that she may have the pleasure of being +disappointed. Her impatience to know what she fears to learn, the +vivacity with which she gradually works herself up into a state of +excitement, and at length into fury, is wrought out with a force of +truth which makes us recoil. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Antony's dead! + If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress. + But well and free, + If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here + My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings + Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + + MESSENGER. + + First, madam, he is well. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark! we use + To say, the dead are well: bring it to that, + The gold I give thee will I melt, and pour + Down thy ill-uttering throat. + + MESSENGER. + + Good madam, hear me. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Well, go to, I will. + But there's no goodness in thy face. If Antony + Be free and healthful, why so tart a favor + To trumpet such good tidings? If not well, + Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes. + + MESSENGER. + + Wil't please you hear me? + + CLEOPATRA. + + I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st; + Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, + Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, + I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail + Rich pearls upon thee. + + MESSENGER. + + Madam, he's well. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Well said. + + MESSENGER. + + And friends with Caesar. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Thou art an honest man. + + MESSENGER. + + Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Make thee a fortune from me. + + MESSENGER. + + But yet, madam-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + I do not like _but yet_--it does allay + The good precedence. Fie upon _but yet_: + _But yet_ is as a gaoler to bring forth + Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend, + Pour out thy pack of matter to mine ear, + The good and bad together. He's friends with Caesar + In state of health, thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + + MESSENGER. + + Free, madam! No: I made no such report, + He's bound unto Octavia. + + CLEOPATRA. + + For what good turn? + + MESSENGER. + + Madam he's married to Octavia. + + CLEOPATRA. + + The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + [_Strikes him down._ + + MESSENGER. + + Good madam, patience. + + CLEOPATRA. + + What say you? [_Strikes him again._ + Hence horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes + Like balls before me--I'll unhair thine head-- + Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stewed in brine + Smarting in ling'ring pickle. + + MESSENGER. + + Gracious madam! + I, that do bring the news, made not the match. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, + And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst + Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; + And I will boot thee with what gift beside + Thy modesty can beg. + + MESSENGER. + + He's married, madam. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Rogue, thou hast lived too long. [_Draws a dagger._ + + MESSENGER. + + Nay then I'll run. + What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. [_Exit._ + + CHARMIAN. + + Good madam, keep yourself within yourself; + The man is innocent. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. + Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures + Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again; + Though I am mad, I will not bite him--Call! + + CHARMIAN. + + He is afraid to come. + + CLEOPATRA. + + I will not hurt him. + These hands do lack nobility, that they strike + A meaner than myself. + + * * * * + + CLEOPATRA. + + In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar. + + CHARMIAN. + + Many times, madam. + + CLEOPATRA. + + I am paid for't now-- + Lead me from hence. + I faint. O Iras, Charmian--'tis no matter + Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him + Report the features of Octavia, her years, + Her inclination--let him not leave out + The color of her hair. Bring me word quickly. + [_Exit Alex._ + + Let him forever go--let him not--Charmian, + Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, + T'other way he's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + [_To Mardian._ + + Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian. + But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +I have given this scene entire because I know nothing comparable to it +The pride and arrogance of the Egyptian queen, the blandishment of the +woman, the unexpected but natural transitions of temper and feeling, the +contest of various passions, and at length--when the wild hurricane has +spent its fury--the melting into tears, faintness, and languishment, are +portrayed with the most astonishing power, and truth, and skill in +feminine nature. More wonderful still is the splendor and force of +coloring which is shed over this extraordinary scene. The mere idea of +an angry woman beating her menial, presents something ridiculous or +disgusting to the mind; in a queen or a tragedy heroine it is still more +indecorous;[70] yet this scene is as far as possible from the vulgar or +the comic. Cleopatra seems privileged to "touch the brink of all we +hate" with impunity. This imperial termagant, this "wrangling queen, +whom every thing becomes," becomes even her fury. We know not by what +strange power it is, that in the midst of all these unruly passions and +childish caprices, the poetry of the character, and the fanciful and +sparkling grace of the delineation are sustained and still rule in the +imagination; but we feel that it is so. + +I need hardly observe, that we have historical authority for the +excessive violence of Cleopatra's temper. Witness the story of her +boxing the ears of her treasurer, in presence of Octavius, as related by +Plutarch. Shakspeare has made a fine use of this anecdote also towards +the conclusion of the drama, but it is not equal in power to this scene +with the messenger. + +The man is afterwards brought back, almost by force, to satisfy +Cleopatra's jealous anxiety, by a description of Octavia:--but this +time, made wise by experience, he takes care to adapt his information to +the humors of his imperious mistress, and gives her a satirical picture +of her rival. The scene which follows, in which Cleopatra--artful, +acute, and penetrating as she is--becomes the dupe of her feminine spite +and jealousy, nay, assists in duping herself; and after having cuffed +the messenger for telling her truths which are offensive, rewards him +for the falsehood which flatters her weakness--is not only an admirable +exhibition of character, but a fine moral lesson. + +She concludes, after dismissing the messenger with gold and thanks, + + I repent me much + That I so harry'd him. Why, methinks by him + This creature's no such thing? + + CHARMIAN. + + O nothing, madam. + + CLEOPATRA. + + The man hath seen some majesty, and should know! + +Do we not fancy Cleopatra drawing herself up with all the vain +consciousness of rank and beauty as she pronounces this last line? and +is not this the very woman who celebrated her own apotheosis,--who +arrayed herself in the robe and diadem of the goddess Isis, and could +find no titles magnificent enough for her children but those of _the +Sun_ and _the Moon_? + +The despotism and insolence of her temper are touched in some other +places most admirably. Thus, when she is told that the Romans libel and +abuse her, she exclaims,-- + + Sink Rome, and their tongues rot + That speak against us! + +And when one of her attendants observes, that "Herod of Jewry dared not +look upon her but when she were well pleased," she immediately replies, +"That Herod's head I'll have."[71] + +When Proculeius surprises her in her monument, and snatches her poniard +from her, terror, and fury, pride, passion, and disdain, swell in her +haughty soul, and seem to shake her very being. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Where art thou, death? + Come hither, come! come, come and take a queen + Worth many babes and beggars! + + PROCULEIUS. + + O temperance, lady? + + CLEOPATRA. + + Sir, I will eat no meat; I'll not drink, sir: + If idle talk will once be necessary. + I'll not sleep neither; this mortal house I'll ruin, + Do Caesar what he can! Know, sir, that I + Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court, + Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye + Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up, + And show me to the shouting varletry + Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt + Be gentle grave to me! Rather on Nilus' mud + Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies + Blow me into abhorring! Rather make + My country's high pyramids my gibbet, + And hang me up in chains! + +In the same spirit of royal bravado, but finer still, and worked up with +a truly Oriental exuberance of fancy and imagery, is her famous +description of Antony, addressed to Dolabella:-- + + Most noble empress you have heard of me? + + CLEOPATRA. + + I cannot tell. + + DOLABELLA. + + Assuredly, you know me. + + CLEOPATRA. + + No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. + You laugh when boys, or women, tell their dreams + Is't not your trick? + + DOLABELLA. + + I understand not, madam. + + CLEOPATRA. + + I dream'd there was an emperor Antony; + O such another sleep, that I might see + But such another man! + + DOLABELLA. + + If it might please you-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck + A sun and moon; which kept their course, and lighted + The little O, the earth. + + DOLABELLA. + + Most sovereign creature-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm + Crested the world; his voice was propertied + As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; + But when he meant to quail or shake the orb + He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, + There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, + That grew the more by reaping. His delights + Were dolphin like; they show'd his back above + The element they liv'd in. In his livery[72] + Walk'd crowns and coronets; realms and islands were + As plates[73] dropp'd from his pocket. + + DOLABELLA. + + Cleopatra! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Think you there was, or might be, such a man + As this I dream'd of? + + DOLABELLA. + + Gentle madam, no. + + CLEOPATRA. + + You lie,--up to the hearing of the gods! + +There was no room left in this amazing picture for the display of that +passionate maternal tenderness, which was a strong and redeeming feature +in Cleopatra's historical character; but it is not left untouched, for +when she is imprecating mischiefs on herself, she wishes, as the last +and worst of possible evils, that "thunder may smite Caesarion!" + +In representing the mutual passion of Antony and Cleopatra as real and +fervent, Shakspeare has adhered to the truth of history as well as to +general nature. On Antony's side it is a species of infatuation, a +single and engrossing feeling: it is, in short, the love of a man +declined in years for a woman very much younger than himself, and who +has subjected him to every species of female enchantment. In Cleopatra +the passion is of a mixed nature, made up of real attachment, combined +with the love of pleasure, the love of power, and the love of self. Not +only is the character most complicated, but no one sentiment could have +existed pure and unvarying in such a mind as hers; her passion in itself +is true, fixed to one centre; but like the pennon streaming from the +mast, it flutters and veers with every breath of her variable temper: +yet in the midst of all her caprices, follies, and even vices, womanly +feeling is still predominant in Cleopatra: and the change which takes +place in her deportment towards Antony, when their evil fortune darkens +round them, is as beautiful and interesting in itself as it is striking +and natural. Instead of the airy caprice and provoking petulance she +displays in the first scenes, we have a mixture of tenderness, and +artifice, and fear, and submissive blandishment. Her behavior, for +instance, after the battle of Actium, when she quails before the noble +and tender rebuke of her lover, is partly female subtlety and partly +natural feeling. + + CLEOPATRA. + + O my lord, my lord, + Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought + You would have follow'd. + + ANTONY. + + Egypt, thou know'st too well + My heart was to the rudder tied by the strings, + And thou should'st tow me after. O'er my spirit + Thy full supremacy thou know'st; and that + Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods + Command me. + + CLEOPATRA. + + O, my pardon? + + ANTONY. + + Now I must + To the young man send humble treaties, dodge + And palter in the shifts of lowness; who + With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleas'd, + Making and marring fortunes. You did know + How much you were my conqueror; and that + My sword, made weak by my affection, would + Obey it on all cause. + + CLEOPATRA. + + O pardon, pardon! + + ANTONY. + + Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates + All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss; + Even this repays me. + +It is perfectly in keeping with the individual character, that +Cleopatra, alike destitute of moral strength and physical courage, +should cower terrified and subdued before the masculine spirit of her +lover, when once she has fairly roused it. Thus Tasso's Armida, half +siren, half sorceress, in the moment of strong feeling, forgets her +incantations, and has recourse to persuasion, to prayers, and to tears. + + Lascia gl' incanti, e vuol provar se vaga + E supplice belta sia miglior maga. + +Though the poet afterwards gives us to understand that even in this +relinquishment of art there was a more refined artifice. + + Nella doglia amara + Gia tutte non oblia l' arti e le frodi. + +And something like this inspires the conduct of Cleopatra towards Antony +in his fallen fortunes. The reader should refer to that fine scene, +where Antony surprises Thyreus kissing her hand, "that kingly seal and +plighter of high hearts," and rages like a thousand hurricanes. + +The character of Mark Antony, as delineated by Shakspeare, reminds me of +the Farnese Hercules. There is an ostentatious display of power, an +exaggerated grandeur, a colossal effect in the whole conception, +sustained throughout in the pomp of the language, which seems, as it +flows along, to resound with the clang of arms and the music of the +revel. The coarseness and violence of the historic portrait are a little +kept down; but every word which Antony utters is characteristic of the +arrogant but magnanimous Roman, who "with half the bulk o' the world +played as he pleased," and was himself the sport of a host of mad (and +bad) passions, and the slave of a woman. + +History is followed closely in all the details of the catastrophe, and +there is something wonderfully grand in the hurried march of events +towards the conclusion. As disasters hem her round, Cleopatra gathers up +her faculties to meet them, not with the calm fortitude of a great soul, +but the haughty, tameless spirit of a wilful woman, unused to reverse or +contradiction. + +Her speech, after Antony has expired in her arms, I have always regarded +as one of the most wonderful in Shakspeare. Cleopatra is not a woman to +grieve silently. The contrast between the violence of her passions and +the weakness of her sex, between her regal grandeur and her excess of +misery, her impetuous, unavailing struggles with the fearful destiny +which has compassed her, and the mixture of wild impatience and pathos +in her agony, are really magnificent. She faints on the body of Antony, +and is recalled to life by the cries of her women:-- + + IRAS. + + Royal Egypt--empress! + + CLEOPATRA. + + No more, but e'en a woman![74] and commanded + By such poor passion as the maid that milks, + And does the meanest chares.--It were for me + To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods: + To tell them that our world did equal theirs + Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught, + Patience is sottish, and impatience does + Become a dog that's mad. Then is it sin + To rush into the secret house of death + Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? + What, what? good cheer! why how now, Charmian? + My noble girls!--ah, women, women! look + Our lamp is spent, is out. + We'll bury him, and then what's brave, what's noble, + Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, + And make death proud to take us. + +But although Cleopatra talks of dying "after the high Roman fashion" she +fears what she most desires, and cannot perform with simplicity what +costs her such an effort. That extreme physical cowardice, which was so +strong a trait in her historical character, which led to the defeat of +Actium, which made her delay the execution of a fatal resolve, till she +had "tried conclusions infinite of _easy_ ways to die," Shakspeare has +rendered with the finest possible effect, and in a manner which +heightens instead of diminishing our respect and interest. Timid by +nature, she is courageous by the mere force of will, and she lashes +herself up with high-sounding words into a kind of false daring. Her +lively imagination suggests every incentive which can spur her on to the +deed she has resolved, yet trembles to contemplate. She pictures to +herself all the degradations which must attend her captivity, and let +it be observed, that those which she anticipates are precisely such as a +vain, luxurious, and haughty woman would especially dread, and which +only true virtue and magnanimity could despise. Cleopatra could have +endured the loss of freedom; but to be led in triumph through the +streets of Rome is insufferable. She could stoop to Caesar with +dissembling courtesy, and meet duplicity with superior art; but "to be +chastised" by the scornful or upbraiding glance of the injured +Octavia--"rather a ditch in Egypt!" + + If knife, drugs, serpents, have + Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe. + Your wife, Octavia, with her modest eyes, + And still conclusion,[75] shall acquire no honor + Demurring upon me. + + Now Iras, what think'st thou? + Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shall be shown + In Rome as well as I. Mechanic slaves, + With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall + Uplift us to the view. In their thick breaths, + Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded, + And forc'd to drink their vapor. + + IRAS. + + The gods forbid! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors + Will catch at us like strumpets; and scald rhymers + Ballad us out o' tune. The quick comedians + Extemporally will stage us, and present + Our Alexandrian revels. Antony + Shall be brought drunken forth; and I shall see + Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness. + +She then calls for her diadem, her robes of state, and attires herself +as if "again for Cydnus, to meet Mark Antony." Coquette to the last, she +must make Death proud to take her, and die, "phoenix like," as she had +lived, with all the pomp of preparation--luxurious in her despair. + +The death of Lucretia, of Portia, of Arria, and others who died "after +the high Roman fashion," is sublime according to the Pagan ideas of +virtue, and yet none of them so powerfully affect the imagination as the +catastrophe of Cleopatra. The idea of this frail, timid, wayward woman, +dying with heroism from the mere force of passion and will, takes us by +surprise. The Attic elegance of her mind, her poetical imagination, the +pride of beauty and royalty predominating to the last, and the sumptuous +and picturesque accompaniments with which she surrounds herself in +death, carry to its extreme height that effect of contrast which +prevails through her life and character. No arts, no invention could add +to the real circumstances of Cleopatra's closing scene. Shakspeare has +shown profound judgment and feeling in adhering closely to the classical +authorities; and to say that the language and sentiments worthily fill +up the outline, is the most magnificent praise that can be given. The +magical play of fancy and the overpowering fascination of the character +are kept up to the last, and when Cleopatra, on applying the asp, +silences the lamentations of her women:-- + + Peace! peace! + Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, + That sucks the nurse to sleep?-- + +These few words--the contrast between the tender beauty of the image and +the horror of the situation--produce an effect more intensely mournful +than all the ranting in the world. The generous devotion of her women +adds the moral charm which alone was wanting: and when Octavius hurries +in too late to save his victim, and exclaims, when gazing on her-- + + She looks like sleep-- + As she would catch another Antony + In her strong toil of grace, + +the image of her beauty and her irresistible arts, triumphant even in +death, is at once brought before us, and one masterly and comprehensive +stroke consummates this most wonderful, most dazzling delineation. + +I am not here the apologist of Cleopatra's historical character, nor of +such women as resemble her: I am considering her merely as a dramatic +portrait of astonishing beauty, spirit, and originality. She has +furnished the subject of two Latin, sixteen French, six English, and at +least four Italian tragedies;[76] yet Shakspeare alone has availed +himself of all the interest of the story, without falsifying the +character. He alone has dared to exhibit the Egyptian queen with all her +greatness and all her littleness--all her frailties of temper--all her +paltry arts and dissolute passions--yet preserved the dramatic propriety +and poetical coloring of the character, and awakened our pity for fallen +grandeur, without once beguiling us into sympathy with guilt and error. +Corneille has represented Cleopatra as a model of chaste propriety, +magnanimity, constancy, and every female virtue; and the effect is +almost ludicrous. In our own language, we have two very fine tragedies +on the story of Cleopatra: in that of Dryden, which is in truth a noble +poem, and which he himself considered his masterpiece, Cleopatra is a +mere common-place "all-for-love" heroine, full of constancy and fine +sentiments. For instance:-- + + My love's so true, + That I can neither hide it where it is, + Nor show it where it is not. Nature meant me + A wife--a silly, harmless, household dove, + Fond without art, and kind without deceit. + But fortune, that has made a mistress of me, + Has thrust me out to the wild world, unfurnished + Of falsehood to be happy. + +Is this Antony's Cleopatra--the Circe of the Nile--the Venus of the +Cydnus? _She_ never uttered any thing half so mawkish in her life. + +In Fletcher's "False One," Cleopatra is represented at an earlier period +of her history: and to give an idea of the aspect under which the +character is exhibited, (and it does not vary throughout the play,) I +shall give one scene; if it be considered out of place, its extreme +beauty will form its best apology. + +Ptolemy and his council having exhibited to Caesar all the royal +treasures in Egypt, he is so astonished and dazzled at the view of the +accumulated wealth, that he forgets the presence of Cleopatra, and +treats her with negligence. The following scene between her and her +sister Arsinoe occurs immediately afterwards. + + ARSINOE. + + You're so impatient! + + CLEOPATRA. + + Have I not cause? + Women of common beauties and low births, + When they are slighted, are allowed their angers-- + Why should not I, a princess, make him know + The baseness of his usage? + + ARSINOE. + + Yes, 'tis fit: + But then again you know what man-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + He's no man! + The shadow of a greatness hangs upon him, + And not the virtue; he is no conqueror, + Has suffered under the base dross of nature; + Poorly deliver'd up his power to wealth. + The god of bed-rid men taught his eyes treason. + Against the truth of love he has rais'd rebellion + Defied his holy flames. + + EROS. + + He will fall back again + And satisfy your grace. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Had I been old, + Or blasted in my bud, he might have show'd + Some shadow of dislike: but to prefer + The lustre of a little trash, Arsinoe, + And the poor glow-worm light of some faint jewels + Before the light of love, and soul of beauty-- + O how it vexes me! He is no soldier: + All honorable soldiers are Love's servants. + He is a merchant, a mere wandering merchant, + Servile to gain; he trades for poor commodities, + And makes his conquests thefts! Some fortunate captains + That quarter with him, and are truly valiant. + Have flung the name of "Happy Caesar" on him; + Himself ne'er won it. He's so base and covetous, + He'll sell his sword for gold. + + ARSINOE. + + This is too bitter. + + CLEOPATRA. + + O, I could curse myself, that was so foolish. + So fondly childish, to believe his tongue-- + His promising tongue--ere I could catch his temper. + I'd trash enough to have cloyed his eyes withal, + (His covetous eyes,) such as I scorn to tread on, + Richer than e'er he saw yet, and more tempting; + Had I known he'd stoop'd at that, I'd saved mine honor-- + I had been happy still! But let him take it. + And let him brag how poorly I'm rewarded; + Let him go conquer still weak wretched ladies; + Love has his angry quiver too, his deadly, + And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest-- + I am a fool to fret thus for a fool,-- + An old blind fool too! I lose my health; I will not, + I will not cry; I will not honor him + With tears diviner than the gods he worships; + I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing. + + EROS. + + Do not; you shall not need. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Would I were prisoner + To one I hate, that I might anger him! + I will love any man to break the heart of him! + Any that has the heart and will to kill him! + + ARSINOE. + + Take some fair truce. + + CLEOPATRA. + + I will go study mischief, + And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings. + Shall meet him like a basilisk, and strike him. + Love! put destroying flame into mine eyes, + Into my smiles deceits, that I may torture him-- + That I may make him love to death, and laugh at him + + _Enter_ APOLLODORUS. + + APOLLODORUS. + + Caesar commends his service to your grace + + CLEOPATRA. + + His service? What's his service? + + EROS. + + Pray you be patient + The noble Caesar loves still. + + CLEOPATRA. + + What's his will? + + APOLLODORUS. + + He craves access unto your highness. + + CLEOPATRA + + No;-- + Say no; I will have none to trouble me. + + ARSINOE. + + Good sister!-- + + CLEOPATRA. + + None, I say. I will be private. + Would thou hadst flung me into Nilus, keeper, + When first thou gav'st consent to bring my body + To this unthankful Caesar! + + APOLLODORUS. + + 'Twas your will, madam. + Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honor'd you. + You know what danger I endur'd. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Take this, [_giving a jewel_, + And carry it to that lordly Caesar sent thee; + There's a new love, a handsome one, a rich one,-- + One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it: + Tell the ambitious broker this will suffer-- + + _Enter_ CAESAR. + + APOLLODORUS. + + He enters. + + CLEOPATRA. + + How! + + CAESAR. + + I do not use to wait, lady + Where I am, all the doors are free and open. + + CLEOPATRA. + + I guess so by your rudeness. + + CAESAR. + + You're not angry? + Things of your tender mould should be most gentle. + Why should you frown? Good gods, what a set anger + Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper you. + What a coy smile was there, and a disdainful! + How like an ominous flash it broke out from you! + Defend me, love! Sweet, who has anger'd you? + + CLEOPATRA. + + Show him a glass! That false face has betray'd me-- + That base heart wrong'd me! + + CAESAR. + + Be more sweetly angry. + I wrong'd you, fair? + + CLEOPATRA. + + Away with your foul flatteries; + They are too gross! But that I dare be angry, + And with as great a god as Caesar is, + To show how poorly I respect his memory + I would not speak to you. + + CAESAR. + + Pray you, undo this riddle, + And tell me how I've vexed you. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Let me think first, + Whether I may put on patience + That will with honor suffer me. Know I hate you! + Let that begin the story. Now I'll tell you. + + CAESAR. + + But do it mildly: in a noble lady, + Softness of spirit, and a sober nature, + That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows sweetness, + Shows blessed, like herself. + + CLEOPATRA. + + And that great blessedness. + You first reap'd of me; till you taught my nature, + Like a rude storm, to talk aloud and thunder, + Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and stiller. + You had the spring of my affections, + And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of; + You must expect the winter of mine anger. + You flung me off--before the court disgraced me-- + When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty-- + Appear'd your mistress; took unto your eyes + The common strumpet, love of hated lucre,-- + Courted with covetous heart the slave of nature,-- + Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of glory, + And minds adorned with noble love, would kick at! + Soldiers of royal mark scorn such base purchase; + Beauty and honor are the marks they shoot at. + I spake to you then, I courted you, and woo'd you, + Called you dear Caesar, hung about you tenderly, + Was proud to appear your friend-- + + CAESAR. + + You have mistaken me. + + CLEOPATRA. + + But neither eye, nor favor, not a smile + Was I blessed back withal, but shook off rudely, + And as you had been sold to sordid infamy, + You fell before the images of treasure, + And in your soul you worship'd. I stood slighted; + Forgotten, and contemned; my soft embraces, + And those sweet kisses which you called Elysium + As letters writ in sand, no more remember'd; + The name and glory of your Cleopatra + Laugh'd at, and made a story to your captains! + Shall I endure? + + CAESAR. + + You are deceived in all this; + Upon my life you are; 'tis your much tenderness. + + CLEOPATRA. + + No, no; I love not that way; you are cozen'd; + I love with as much ambition as a conqueror, + And where I love will triumph! + + CAESAR. + + So you shall: + My heart shall be the chariot that shall bear you: + All I have won shall wait upon you. By the gods, + The bravery of this woman's mind has fir'd me! + Dear mistress, shall I but this once---- + + CLEOPATRA. + + How! Caesar! + Have I let slip a second vanity + That gives thee hope? + + CAESAR. + + You shall be absolute, + And reign alone as queen; you shall be any thing. + + CLEOPATRA. + + * * * * + + Farewell, unthankful! + + CAESAR. + + Stay! + + CLEOPATRA. + + I will not. + + CAESAR. + I command. + + CLEOPATRA. + + Command, and go without, sir, + I do command _thee_ be my slave forever, + And vex, while I laugh at thee! + + CAESAR. + + Thus low, beauty---- [_He kneels_ + + CLEOPATRA. + + It is too late; when I have found thee absolute, + The man that fame reports thee, and to me, + May be I shall think better. Farewell, conqueror! + + (_Exit._) + +Now this is magnificent poetry, but this is not Cleopatra, this is not +"the gipsey queen." The sentiment here is too profound, the majesty too +real, and too lofty. Cleopatra could be great by fits and starts, but +never sustained her dignity upon so high a tone for ten minutes +together. The Cleopatra of Fletcher reminds us of the antique colossal +statue of her in the Vatican, all grandeur and grace. Cleopatra in +Dryden's tragedy is like Guido's dying Cleopatra in the Pitti Palace, +tenderly beautiful. Shakspeare's Cleopatra is like one of those graceful +and fantastic pieces of antique Arabesque, in which all anomalous shapes +and impossible and wild combinations of form are woven together in +regular confusion and most harmonious discord: and such, we have reason +to believe, was the living woman herself, when she existed upon this +earth. + + +OCTAVIA. + +I do not understand the observation of a late critic, that in this play +"Octavia is only a dull foil to Cleopatra." Cleopatra requires no foil, +and Octavia is not dull, though in a moment of jealous spleen, her +accomplished rival gives her that epithet.[77] It is possible that her +beautiful character, if brought more forward and colored up to the +historic portrait, would still be eclipsed by the dazzling splendor of +Cleopatra's; for so I have seen a flight of fireworks blot out for a +while the silver moon and ever-burning stars. But here the subject of +the drama being the love of Antony and Cleopatra, Octavia is very +properly kept in the background, and far from any competition with her +rival: the interest would otherwise have been unpleasantly divided, or +rather Cleopatra herself must have served but as a foil to the tender, +virtuous, dignified, and generous Octavia, the very _beau ideal_ of a +noble Roman lady:-- + + Admired Octavia, whose beauty claims + No worse a husband than the best of men; + Whose virtues and whose general graces speak + That which none else can utter. + +Dryden has committed a great mistake in bringing Octavia and her +children on the scene, and in immediate contact with Cleopatra. To have +thus violated the truth of history[78] might have been excusable, but to +sacrifice the truth of nature and dramatic propriety, to produce a mere +stage effect, was unpardonable. In order to preserve the unity of +interest, he has falsified the character of Octavia as well as that of +Cleopatra:[79] he has presented us with a regular scolding-match +between the rivals, in which they come sweeping up to each other from +opposite sides of the stage, with their respective trains, like two +pea-hens in a passion. Shakspeare would no more have brought his +captivating, brilliant, but meretricious Cleopatra into immediate +comparison with the noble and chaste simplicity of Octavia, than a +connoisseur in art would have placed Canova's Dansatrice, beautiful as +it is, beside the Athenian Melpomene, or the Vestal of the Capitol. + +The character of Octavia is merely indicated in a few touches, but every +stroke tells. We see her with "downcast eyes sedate and sweet, and looks +demure,"--with her modest tenderness and dignified submission--the very +antipodes of her rival! Nor should we forget that she has furnished one +of the most graceful similes in the whole compass of poetry, where her +soft equanimity in the midst of grief is compared to + + The swan's down feather + That stands upon the swell at flood of tide, + And neither way inclines. + +The fear which, seems to haunt the mind of Cleopatra, lest she should be +"chastised by the sober eye" of Octavia, is exceedingly characteristic +of the two women: it betrays the jealous pride of her, who was conscious +that she had forfeited all real claim to respect; and it places Octavia +before us in all the majesty of that virtue which could strike a kind +of envying and remorseful awe even into the bosom of Cleopatra. What +would she have thought and felt, had some soothsayer foretold to her the +fate of her own children, whom she so tenderly loved? Captives, and +exposed to the rage of the Roman populace, they owed their existence to +the generous, admirable Octavia, in whose mind there entered no particle +of littleness. She received into her house the children of Antony and +Cleopatra, educated them with her own, treated them with truly maternal +tenderness, and married them nobly. + +Lastly, to complete the contrast, the death of Octavia should be put in +comparison with that of Cleopatra. + +After spending several years in dignified retirement, respected as the +sister of Augustus, but more for her own virtues, Octavia lost her +eldest son Marcellus, who was expressively called the "Hope of Rome." +Her fortitude gave way under this blow, and she fell into a deep +melancholy, which gradually wasted her health. While she was thus +declining into death, occurred that beautiful scene, which has never +yet, I believe, been made the subject of a picture, but should certainly +be added to my gallery, (if I had one,) and I would hang it opposite to +the dying Cleopatra. Virgil was commanded by Augustus to read aloud to +his sister that book of the Eneid in which he had commemorated the +virtues and early death of the young Marcellus. When he came to the +lines-- + + This youth, the blissful vision of a day, + Shall just be shown on earth, then snatch'd away, &c. + +The mother covered her face, and burst into tears. But when Virgil +mentioned her son by name, ("Tu Marcellus eris,") which he had artfully +deferred till the concluding lines, Octavia, unable to control her +agitation, fainted away. She afterwards, with a magnificent spirit, +ordered the poet a gratuity of ten thousand sesterces for each line of +the panegyric.[80] It is probable that the agitation she suffered on +this occasion hastened the effects of her disorder; for she died soon +after, (of grief, says the historian,) having survived Antony about +twenty years. + + +VOLUMNIA. + +Octavia, however, is only a beautiful sketch, while in Volumnia, +Shakspeare has given us the portrait of a Roman matron, conceived in the +true antique spirit, and finished in every part. Although Coriolanus is +the hero of the play, yet much of the interest of the action and the +final catastrophe turn upon the character of his mother, Volumnia, and +the power she exercised over his mind, by which, according to the story, +"she saved Rome and lost her son." Her lofty patriotism, her patrician +haughtiness, her maternal pride, her eloquence, and her towering spirit, +are exhibited with the utmost power of effect; yet the truth of female +nature is beautifully preserved, and the portrait, with all its vigor, +is without harshness. + +I shall begin by illustrating the relative position and feelings of the +mother and son; as these are of the greatest importance in the action of +the drama, and consequently most prominent in the characters. Though +Volumnia is a Roman matron, and though her country owes its salvation to +her, it is clear that her maternal pride and affection are stronger even +than her patriotism. Thus when her son is exiled, she burst into an +imprecation against Rome and its citizens:-- + + Now the red pestilence strikes all trades in Rome, + And occupations perish! + +Here we have the impulses of individual and feminine nature, +overpowering all national and habitual influences. Volumnia would never +have exclaimed like the Spartan mother, of her dead son, "Sparta has +many others as brave as he;" but in a far different spirit she says to +the Romans,-- + + Ere you go, hear this: + As far as doth the Capitol exceed + The meanest house in Rome, so far my son, + Whom you have banished, does exceed you all. + +In the very first scene, and before the introduction of the principal +personages, one citizen observes to another that the military exploits +of Marcius were performed, not so much for his country's sake "as to +please his mother." By this admirable stroke of art, introduced with +such simplicity of effect, our attention is aroused, and we are prepared +in the very outset of the piece for the important part assigned to +Volumnia, and for her share in producing the catastrophe. + +In the first act we have a very graceful scene, in which the two Roman +ladies, the wife and mother of Coriolanus, are discovered at their +needle-work, conversing on his absence and danger, and are visited by +Valeria:-- + + The noble sisters of Publicola, + The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle, + That's curded by the frost from purest snow, + And hangs on Dian's temple! + +Over this little scene Shakspeare, without any display of learning, has +breathed the very spirit of classical antiquity. The haughty temper of +Volumnia, her admiration of the valor and high bearing of her son, and +her proud but unselfish love for him, are finely contrasted with the +modest sweetness, he conjugal tenderness, and the fond solicitude of his +wife Virgilia. + + VOLUMNIA. + + When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my + womb; when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; + when, for a day of king's entreaties, a mother should not + sell him an hour from her beholding--considering how honor + would become such a person; that it was no better than + picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not + stir,--was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like + to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he + returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter--I + sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child, + than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man. + + VIRGILIA. + + But had he died in the business, madam? how then? + + VOLUMNIA. + + Then his good report should have been my son; I therein + would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: had I a + dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than + thine and my good Marcius, I had rather eleven die nobly for + their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + + _Enter a_ GENTLEWOMAN. + + Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you. + + VIRGILIA. + + Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + + VOLUMNIA. + + Indeed you shall not. + Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum: + See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair: + As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him: + Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus-- + "Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, + Though you were born in Rome." His bloody brow + With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes; + Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow + Or all, or lose his hire. + + VIRGILIA. + + His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + + VOLUMNIA. + + Away, you fool! it more becomes a man + Than gilt his trophy. The breast of Hecuba, + When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier + Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood + At Grecian swords contending. Tell Valeria + We are fit to bid her welcome. [_Exit Gent._ + + VIRGILIA. + + Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + + VOLUMNIA. + + He'll beat Aufidius's head below his knee. + And tread upon his neck. + +This distinction between the two females is as interesting and beautiful +as it is well sustained. Thus when the victory of Coriolanus is +proclaimed, Menenius asks, "Is he wounded?" + + VIRGILIA. + + O no, no, no! + + VOLUMNIA. + + Yes, he is wounded--I thank the gods for it! + +And when he returns victorious from the wars, his high-spirited mother +receives him with blessings and applause--his gentle wife with "gracious +silence" and with tears. + +The resemblance of temper in the mother and the son, modified as it is +by the difference of sex, and by her greater age and experience, is +exhibited with admirable truth. Volumnia, with all her pride and spirit, +has some prudence and self-command; in her language and deportment all +is matured and matronly. The dignified tone of authority she assumes +towards her son, when checking his headlong impetuosity, her respect and +admiration for his noble qualities, and her strong sympathy even with +the feelings she combats, are all displayed in the scene in which she +prevails on him to soothe the incensed plebeians. + + VOLUMNIA. + + Pray be counsell'd: + I have a heart as little apt as yours, + But yet a brain that leads my use of anger + To better vantage. + + MENENIUS. + + Well said, noble woman: + Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that + The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic + For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, + Which I can scarcely bear. + + CORIOLANUS. + + What must I do? + + MENENIUS. + + Return to the tribunes. + + CORIOLANUS. + + Well. + What then? what then? + + MENENIUS. + + Repent what you have spoke. + + CORIOLANUS. + + For them? I cannot do it to the gods; + Must I then do't to them? + + VOLUMNIA. + + You are too absolute, + Though therein you can never be too noble, + But when extremities speak. + + I pr'ythee now, my son, + Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand; + And thus far having stretch'd it, (here be with them) + Thy knee bussing the stones, (for in such business + Action is eloquent, and the eyes of the ignorant + More learned than the ears,) waving thy head, + Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart + Now humble, as the ripest mulberry, + That will not hold the handling. Or, say to them, + Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils + Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, + Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim, + In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame + Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far + As thou hast power and person. + + MENENIUS. + + This but done, + Even as she speaks, why all their hearts were yours + For they have pardons, being asked, as free + As words to little purpose. + + VOLUMNIA. + + Pr'ythee now, + Go, and be rul'd: although I know thou hadst rather + Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf + Than flatter him in a bower. + + MENENIUS. + + Only fair speech. + + COMINIUS. + + I think 'twill serve, if he + Can thereto frame his spirit. + + VOLUMNIA. + + He must, and will: + Pr'ythee, now say you will, and go about it. + + CORIOLANUS. + + Must I go show them my unbarb'd sconce? Must I + With my base tongue give to my noble heart + A lie, that it must bear? Well, I will do't; + Yet were there but this single plot to lose, + This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it, + And throw it against the wind. To the market-place + You have put me now to such a part, which never + I shall discharge to the life. + + VOLUMNIA. + + I pr'ythee now, sweet son, as thou hast said, + My praises made thee first a soldier, so + To have my praise for this, perform a part + Thou hast not done before. + + CORIOLANUS. + + Well, I must do't: + Away, my disposition, and possess me + Some harlot's spirit! + + * * * * + + I will not do't: + Lest I surcease to honor mine own truth, + And by my body's action, teach my mind + A most inherent baseness. + + VOLUMNIA. + + At thy choice, then: + To beg of thee, it is my more dishonor, + Than thou of them. Come all to ruin: let + Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear + Thy dangerous stoutness: for I mock at death + With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list-- + Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me + But owe thy pride thyself. + + CORIOLANUS. + + Pray be content; + Mother, I am going to the market place-- + Chide me no more. + +When the spirit of the mother and the son are brought into immediate +collision, he yields before her; the warrior who stemmed alone the whole +city of Corioli, who was ready to face "the steep Tarpeian death, or at +wild horses' heels,--vagabond exile--flaying," rather than abate one jot +of his proud will--shrinks at her rebuke. The haughty, fiery, +overbearing temperament of Coriolanus, is drawn in such forcible and +striking colors, that nothing can more impress us with the real grandeur +and power of Volumnia's character, than his boundless submission to her +will--his more than filial tenderness and respect. + + You gods! I prate, + And the most noble mother of the world + Leave unsaluted. Sink my knee i' the earth-- + Of thy deep duty more impression show + Than that of common sons! + +When his mother appears before him as a suppliant, he exclaims,-- + + My mother bows; + As if Olympus to a molehill should + In supplication nod. + +Here the expression of reverence, and the magnificent image in which it +is clothed, are equally characteristic both of the mother and the son. + +Her aristocratic haughtiness is a strong trait in Volumnia's manner and +character, and her supreme contempt for the plebeians, whether they are +to be defied or cajoled, is very like what I have heard expressed by +some high-born and high-bred women of our own day. + + I muse my mother + Does not approve me further, who was wont + To call them woollen vassals; things created + To buy and sell with groats; to show bare heads + In congregations; to yawn, be still, and wonder + When one but of my ordinance stood up + To speak of peace or war. + +And Volumnia reproaching the tribunes,-- + + 'Twas you incensed the rabble-- + Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth, + As I can of those mysteries which Heaven + Will not have earth to know. + +There is all the Roman spirit in her exultation when the trumpets sound +the return of Coriolanus. + + Hark! the trumpets! + These are the ushers of Marcius: before him + He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. + +And in her speech to the gentle Virgilia, who is weeping her husband's +banishment-- + + Leave this faint puling! and lament as I do + In anger--Juno-like! + +But the triumph of Volumnia's character, the full display of all her +grandeur of soul, her patriotism, her strong affections, and her sublime +eloquence, are reserved for her last scene, in which she pleads for the +safety of Rome, and wins from her angry son that peace which all the +swords of Italy and her confederate arms could not have purchased. The +strict and even literal adherence to the truth of history is an +additional beauty. + +Her famous speech, beginning "Should we be silent and not speak," is +nearly word for word from Plutarch, with some additional graces of +expression, and the charm of metre superadded. I shall give the last +lines of this address, as illustrating that noble and irresistible +eloquence which was the crowning ornament of the character. One +exquisite touch of nature, which is distinguished by italics, was beyond +the rhetorician and historian, and belongs only to the poet. + + Speak to me, son; + Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor, + To imitate the graces of the gods; + To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, + And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt + That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? + Think'st thou it honorable for a nobleman + Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: + He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy; + Perhaps thy childishness may move him more + Than can our reasons. There is no man in the world + More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate + Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life + Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy; + _When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood, + Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home, + Laden with honor._ Say my request's unjust, + And spurn me back: but, if it be not so, + Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee + That thou restrain'st from me the duty which + To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: + Down, ladies: let us shame him with our knees. + To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride, + Than pity to our prayers; down, and end; + This is the last; so will we home to Rome, + And die among our neighbors. Nay, behold us; + This boy, that cannot tell what he would have, + But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship, + Does reason our petition with more strength + Than thou hast to deny't.[81] + +It is an instance of Shakspeare's fine judgment, that after this +magnificent and touching piece of eloquence, which saved Rome, Volumnia +should speak no more, for she could say nothing that would not +deteriorate from the effect thus left on the imagination. She is at last +dismissed from our admiring gaze amid the thunder of grateful +acclamations-- + + Behold, our patroness,--the life of Rome. + + +CONSTANCE. + +We have seen that in the mother of Coriolanus, the principal qualities +are exceeding pride, self-will, strong maternal affection, great power +of imagination, and energy of temper. Precisely the same qualities enter +into the mind of Constance of Bretagne: but in her these qualities are +so differently modified by circumstances and education, that not even in +fancy do we think of instituting a comparison between the Gothic +grandeur of Constance, and the more severe and classical dignity of the +Roman matron. + +The scenes and circumstances with which Shakspeare has surrounded +Constance, are strictly faithful to the old chronicles, and are as +vividly as they are accurately represented. On the other hand, the hints +on which the character has been constructed, are few and vague; but the +portrait harmonizes so wonderfully with its historic background, and +with all that later researches have discovered relative to the personal +adventures of Constance, that I have not the slightest doubt of its +individual truth. The result of a life of strange vicissitude; the +picture of a tameless will, and high passions, forever struggling in +vain against a superior power: and the real situation of women in those +chivalrous times, are placed before us in a few noble scenes. The manner +in which Shakspeare has applied the scattered hints of history to the +formation of the character, reminds us of that magician who collected +the mangled limbs which had been dispersed up and down, reunited them +into the human form, and reanimated them with the breathing and +conscious spirit of life. + +Constance of Bretagne was the only daughter and heiress of Conan IV., +Duke of Bretagne; her mother was Margaret of Scotland, the eldest +daughter of Malcolm IV.: but little mention is made of this princess in +the old histories; but she appears to have inherited some portion of the +talent and spirit of her father, and to have transmitted them to her +daughter. The misfortunes of Constance may be said to have commenced +before her birth, and took their rise in the misconduct of one of her +female ancestors. Her great-grandmother Matilda, the wife of Conan III., +was distinguished by her beauty and imperious temper, and not less by +her gallantries. Her husband, not thinking proper to repudiate her +during his lifetime, contented himself with disinheriting her son Hoel, +whom he declared illegitimate; and bequeathed his dukedom to his +daughter Bertha, and her husband Allan the Black, Earl of Richmond, who +were proclaimed and acknowledged Duke and Duchess of Bretagne. + +Prince Hoel, so far from acquiescing in his father's will, immediately +levied an army to maintain his rights, and a civil war ensued between +the brother and sister, which lasted for twelve or fourteen years. +Bertha, whose reputation was not much fairer than that of her mother +Matilda, was succeeded by her son Conan IV.; he was young, and of a +feeble, vacillating temper, and after struggling for a few years against +the increasing power of his uncle Hoel, and his own rebellious barons, +he called in the aid of that politic and ambitious monarch, Henry II. of +England. This fatal step decided the fate of his crown and his +posterity; from the moment the English set foot in Bretagne, that +miserable country became a scene of horrors and crimes--oppression and +perfidy on the one hand, unavailing struggles on the other. Ten years of +civil discord ensued, during which the greatest part of Bretagne was +desolated, and nearly a third of the population carried off by famine +and pestilence. In the end, Conan was secured in the possession of his +throne by the assistance of the English king, who, equally subtle and +ambitious, contrived in the course of this warfare to strip Conan of +most of his provinces by successive treaties; alienate the Breton nobles +from their lawful sovereign, and at length render the Duke himself the +mere vassal of his power. + +In the midst of these scenes of turbulence and bloodshed was Constance +born, in the year 1164. The English king consummated his perfidious +scheme of policy, by seizing on the person of the infant princess, +before she was three years old, as a hostage for her father. Afterwards, +by contracting her in marriage to his third son, Geoffrey Plantagenet, +he ensured, as he thought, the possession of the duchy of Bretagne to +his own posterity. + +From this time we hear no more of the weak, unhappy Conan, who, retiring +from a fruitless contest, hid himself in some obscure retreat: even the +date of his death is unknown. Meanwhile Henry openly claimed the duchy +in behalf of his son Geoffrey and the Lady Constance; and their claims +not being immediately acknowledged, he invaded Bretagne with a large +army, laid waste the country, bribed or forced some of the barons into +submission, murdered or imprisoned others, and, by the most treacherous +and barbarous policy, contrived to keep possession of the country he had +thus seized. However, in order to satisfy the Bretons, who were attached +to the race of their ancient sovereigns, and to give some color to his +usurpation, he caused Geoffrey and Constance to be solemnly crowned at +Rennes, as Duke and Duchess of Bretagne. This was in the year 1169 when +Constance was five, and Prince Geoffrey about eight, years old. His +father, Henry, continued to rule, or rather to ravage and oppress, the +country in their name for about fourteen years, during which period we +do not hear of Constance. She appears to have been kept in a species of +constraint as a hostage rather than a sovereign; while her husband +Geoffrey, as he grew up to manhood, was too much engaged in keeping the +Bretons in order, and disputing his rights with his father, to think +about the completion of his union with Constance, although his sole +title to the dukedom was properly and legally in right of his wife. At +length, in 1182, the nuptials were formally celebrated, Constance being +then in her nineteenth year. At the same time, she was recognized as +Duchess of Bretagne _de son chef_, (that is, in her own right,) by two +acts of legislation, which are still preserved among the records of +Bretagne, and bear her own seal and signature. + +Those domestic feuds which embittered the whole life of Henry II., and +at length broke his heart, are well known. Of all his sons, who were in +continual rebellion against him, Geoffrey was the most undutiful, and +the most formidable: he had all the pride of the Plantagenets,--all the +warlike accomplishments of his two elder brothers, Henry and Richard; +and was the only one who could compete with his father in talent, +eloquence, and dissimulation. No sooner was he the husband of Constance, +and in possession of the throne of Bretagne, than he openly opposed his +father; in other words, he maintained the honor and interests of his +wife and her unhappy country against the cruelties and oppression of the +English plunderers.[82] About three years after his marriage, he was +invited to Paris for the purpose of concluding a league, offensive and +defensive, with the French king: in this journey he was accompanied by +the Duchess Constance, and they were received and entertained with royal +magnificence. Geoffrey, who excelled in all chivalrous accomplishments, +distinguished himself in the tournaments which were celebrated on the +occasion; but unfortunately, after an encounter with a French knight, +celebrated for his prowess, he was accidentally flung from his horse, +and trampled to death in the lists before he could be extricated. + +Constance, being now left a widow, returned to Bretagne, where her +barons rallied round her, and acknowledged her as their sovereign. The +Salique law did not prevail in Bretagne, and it appears that in those +times the power of a female to possess and transmit the rights of +sovereignty had been recognized in several instances; but Constance is +the first woman who exercised those rights in her own person. She had +one daughter, Elinor, born in the second year of her marriage, and a few +months after her husband's death she gave birth to a son. The States of +Bretagne were filled with exultation; they required that the infant +prince should not bear the name of his father,--a name which Constance, +in fond remembrance of her husband, would have bestowed on him--still +less that of his grandfather Henry; but that of Arthur, the redoubted +hero of their country, whose memory was worshipped by the populace. +Though the Arthur of romantic and fairy legends--the Arthur of the round +table, had been dead for six centuries, they still looked for his second +appearance among them, according to the prophecy of Merlin; and now, +with fond and short-sighted enthusiasm, fixed their hopes on the young +Arthur as one destined to redeem the glory and independence of their +oppressed and miserable country. But in the very midst of the rejoicings +which succeeded the birth of the prince, his grandfather, Henry II., +demanded to have the possession and guardianship of his person; and on +the spirited refusal of Constance to yield her son into his power, he +invaded Bretagne with a large army, plundering, burning, devastating the +country as he advanced. He seized Rennes, the capital, and having by the +basest treachery obtained possession of the persons both of the young +duchess and her children, he married Constance forcibly to one of his +own favorite adherents, Randal de Blondeville, Earl of Chester, and +conferred on him the duchy of Bretagne, to be held as a fief of the +English crown. + +The Earl of Chester, though a brave knight and one of the greatest +barons of England, had no pretensions to so high an alliance; nor did he +possess any qualities or personal accomplishments which might have +reconciled Constance to him as a husband. He was a man of diminutive +stature and mean appearance, but of haughty and ferocious manners, and +unbounded ambition.[83] In a conference between this Earl of Chester and +the Earl of Perche, in Lincoln cathedral, the latter taunted Randal with +his insignificant person, and called him contemptuously "_Dwarf_." +"Sayst thou so!" replied Randal; "I vow to God and our Lady, whose +church this is, that ere long I will seem to thee high as that steeple!" +He was as good as his word, when, on ascending the throne of Brittany, +the Earl of Perche became his vassal. + +We cannot know what measures were used to force this degradation on the +reluctant and high-spirited Constance; it is only certain that she never +considered her marriage in the light of a sacred obligation, and that +she took the first opportunity of legally breaking from a chain which +could scarcely be considered as legally binding. For about a year she +was obliged to allow this detested husband the title of Duke of +Bretagne, and he administered the government without the slightest +reference to her will, even in form, till 1189, when Henry II. died, +execrating himself and his undutiful children. Whatever great and good +qualities this monarch may have possessed, his conduct in Bretagne was +uniformly detestable. Even the unfilial behavior of his sons may be +extenuated; for while he spent his life, and sacrificed his peace, and +violated every principle of honor and humanity to compass their +political aggrandizement, he was guilty of atrocious injustice towards +them, and set them a bad example in his own person. + +The tidings of Henry's death had no sooner reached Bretagne than the +barons of that country rose with one accord against his government, +banished or massacred his officers, and, sanctioned by the Duchess +Constance, drove Randal de Blondeville and his followers from Bretagne; +he retired to his earldom of Chester, there to brood over his injuries, +and meditate vengeance. + +In the mean time, Richard I. ascended the English throne. Soon +afterwards he embarked on his celebrated expedition to the Holy Land, +having previously declared Prince Arthur, the only son of Constance, +heir to all his dominions.[84] + +His absence, and that of many of her own turbulent barons and +encroaching neighbors, left to Constance and her harassed dominions a +short interval of profound peace. The historians of that period, +occupied by the warlike exploits of the French and English kings in +Palestine, make but little mention of the domestic events of Europe +during their absence; but it is no slight encomium on the character of +Constance, that Bretagne flourished under her government, and began to +recover from the effects of twenty years of desolating war. The seven +years during which she ruled as an independent sovereign, were not +marked by any events of importance; but in the year 1196 she caused her +son Arthur, then nine years of age, to be acknowledged Duke of Bretagne +by the States, and associated him with herself in all the acts of +government. + +There was more of maternal fondness than policy in this measure, and it +cost her dear. Richard, that royal firebrand, had now returned to +England: by the intrigues and representations of Earl Randal, his +attention was turned to Bretagne. He expressed extreme indignation that +Constance should have proclaimed her son Duke of Bretagne, and her +partner in power, without his consent, he being the feudal lord and +natural guardian of the young prince. After some excuses and +representations on the part of Constance, he affected to be pacified, +and a friendly interview was appointed at Pontorson, on the frontiers of +Normandy. + +We can hardly reconcile the cruel and perfidious scenes which follow +with those romantic and chivalrous associations which illustrate the +memory of Coeur-de-Lion--the friend of Blondel, and the antagonist of +Saladin. Constance, perfectly unsuspicious of the meditated treason, +accepted the invitation of her brother-in-law, and set out from Rennes +with a small but magnificent retinue to join him at Pontorson. On the +road, and within sight of the town, the Earl of Chester was posted with +a troop of Richard's soldiery, and while the Duchess prepared to enter +the gates, where she expected to be received with honor and welcome, he +suddenly rushed from his ambuscade, fell upon her and her suite, put the +latter to flight, and carried off Constance to the strong Castle of St. +Jaques de Beuvron, where he detained her a prisoner for eighteen months. +The chronicle does not tell us how Randal treated his unfortunate wife +during this long imprisonment. She was absolutely in his power; none of +her own people were suffered to approach her, and whatever might have +been his behavior towards her, one thing alone is certain, that so far +from softening her feelings towards _him_, it seems to have added +tenfold bitterness to her abhorrence and her scorn. + +The barons of Bretagne sent the Bishop of Rennes to complain of this +violation of faith and justice, and to demand the restitution of the +Duchess. Richard meanly evaded and temporized: he engaged to restore +Constance to liberty on certain conditions; but this was merely to gain +time. When the stipulated terms were complied with, and the hostages +delivered, the Bretons sent a herald to the English king, to require him +to fulfil his part of the treaty, and restore their beloved Constance. +Richard replied with insolent defiance, refused to deliver up either the +hostages or Constance, and marched his army into the heart of the +country. + +All that Bretagne had suffered previously was as nothing compared to +this terrible invasion; and all that the humane and peaceful government +of Constance had effected during seven years was at once annihilated. +The English barons and their savage and mercenary followers spread +themselves through the country, which they wasted with fire and sword. +The castles of those who ventured to defend themselves were razed to the +ground; the towns and villages plundered and burnt, and the wretched +inhabitants fled to the caves and forests; but not even there could they +find an asylum; by the orders, and in the presence of Richard, the woods +were set on fire, and hundreds either perished in the flames, or were +suffocated in the smoke. + +Constance, meanwhile, could only weep in her captivity over the miseries +of her country, and tremble with all a mother's fears for the safety of +her son. She had placed Arthur under the care of William Desroches, the +seneschal of her palace, a man of mature age, of approved valor, and +devotedly attached to her family. This faithful servant threw himself, +with his young charge, into the fortress of Brest, where he for some +time defied the power of the English king. + +But notwithstanding the brave resistance of the nobles and people of +Bretagne, they were obliged to submit to the conditions imposed by +Richard. By a treaty concluded in 1198, of which the terms are not +exactly known, Constance was delivered from her captivity, though not +from her husband; but in the following year, when the death of Richard +had restored her to some degree of independence, the first use she made +of it was to _divorce herself_ from Randal. She took this step with her +usual precipitancy, not waiting for the sanction of the Pope, as was the +custom in those days; and soon afterwards she gave her hand to Guy, +Count de Thouars, a man of courage and integrity, who for some time +maintained the cause of his wife and her son against the power of +England. Arthur was now fourteen, and the legitimate heir of all the +dominions of his uncle Richard. Constance placed him under the +guardianship of the king of France, who knighted the young prince with +his own hand, and solemnly swore to defend his rights against his +usurping uncle John. + +It is at this moment that the play of King John opens; and history is +followed as closely as the dramatic form would allow, to the death of +John. The real fate of poor Arthur, after he had been abandoned by the +French, and had fallen into the hands of his uncle, is now ascertained; +but according to the chronicle from which Shakspeare drew his materials, +he was killed in attempting to escape from the castle of Falaise. +Constance did not live to witness this consummation of her calamities; +within a few months after Arthur was taken prisoner, in 1201, she died +suddenly, before she had attained her thirty-ninth year; but the cause +of her death is not specified. + +Her eldest daughter Elinor, the legitimate heiress of England, Normandy, +and Bretagne, died in captivity; having been kept a prisoner in Bristol +Castle from the age of fifteen. She was at that time so beautiful, that +she was called proverbially, "La belle Bretonne," and by the English the +"Fair Maid of Brittany." She, like her brother Arthur, was sacrificed to +the ambition of her uncles. + +Of the two daughters of Constance by Guy de Thouars, the eldest, Alice, +became Duchess of Bretagne, and married the Count de Dreux, of the royal +blood of France. The sovereignty of Bretagne was transmitted through her +descendants in an uninterrupted line, till, by the marriage of the +celebrated Anne de Bretagne with Charles VIII. of France, her dominions +were forever united with the French monarchy. + +In considering the real history of Constance, three things must strike +us as chiefly remarkable. + +First, that she is not accused of any vice, or any act of injustice or +violence; and this praise, though poor and negative, should have its due +weight, considering the scanty records that remain of her troubled life, +and the period at which she lived--a period in which crimes of the +darkest dye were familiar occurrences. Her father, Conan, was considered +as a gentle and amiable prince--"gentle even to feebleness;" yet we are +told that on one occasion he acted over again the tragedy of Ugolino and +Ruggiero, when he shut up the Count de Dol, with his two sons and his +nephew, in a dungeon, and deliberately starved them to death; an event +recorded without any particular comment by the old chroniclers of +Bretagne. It also appears that, during those intervals when Constance +administered the government of her states with some degree of +independence, the country prospered under her sway, and that she +possessed at all times the love of her people and the respect of her +nobles. + +Secondly, no imputation whatever has been cast on the honor of Constance +as a wife and as a woman. The old historians, who have treated in a very +unceremonious style the levities of her great-grandmother Matilda, her +grandmother Bertha, her godmother Constance, and her mother-in-law +Elinor, treat the name and memory of our Lady Constance with uniform +respect. + +Her third marriage, with Guy de Thouars, has been censured as impolitic, +but has also been defended; it can hardly, considering her age, and the +circumstances in which she was placed, be a just subject of reproach. +During her hated union with Randal de Blondeville, and the years passed +in a species of widowhood, she conducted herself with propriety: at +least I can find no reason to judge otherwise. + +Lastly, we are struck by the fearless, determined spirit, amounting at +times to rashness, which Constance displayed on several occasions, when +left to the free exercise of her own power and will; yet we see how +frequently, with all this resolution and pride of temper, she became a +mere instrument in the hands of others, and a victim to the superior +craft or power of her enemies. The inference is unavoidable; there must +have existed in the mind of Constance, with all her noble and amiable +qualities, a deficiency somewhere, a want of firmness, a want of +judgment or wariness, and a total want of self-control. + + * * * * * + +In the play of King John, the three principal characters are the King, +Falconbridge, and Lady Constance. The first is drawn forcibly and +accurately from history: it reminds us of Titian's portrait of Caesar +Borgia, in which the hatefulness of the subject is redeemed by the +masterly skill of the artist,--the truth, and power, and wonderful +beauty of the execution. Falconbridge is the spirited creation of the +poet.[85] Constance is certainly an historical personage; but the form +which, when we meet it on the record of history, appears like a pale +indistinct shadow, half melted into its obscure background, starts +before us into a strange relief and palpable breathing reality upon the +page of Shakspeare. + +Whenever we think of Constance, it is in her maternal character. All the +interest which she excites in the drama turns upon her situation as the +mother of Arthur. Every circumstance in which she is placed, every +sentiment she utters, has a reference to him, and she is represented +through the whole of the scenes in which she is engaged, as alternately +pleading for the rights, and trembling for the existence of her son. + +The same may be said of the Merope. In the four tragedies of which her +story forms the subject,[86] we see her but in one point of view, +namely, as a mere impersonation of the maternal feeling. The poetry of +the situation is every thing, the character nothing. Interesting as she +is, take Merope out of the circumstances in which she is placed,--take +away her son, for whom she trembles from the first scene to the last, +and Merope in herself is nothing; she melts away into a name, to which +we can fix no other characteristic by which to distinguish her. We +recognize her no longer. Her position is that of an agonized mother; and +we can no more fancy her under a different aspect, than we can imagine +the statue of Niobe in a different attitude. + +But while we contemplate the character of Constance, she assumes before +us an individuality perfectly distinct from the circumstances around +her. The action calls forth her maternal feelings, and places them in +the most prominent point of view: but with Constance, as with a real +human being, the maternal affections are a powerful instinct, modified +by other faculties, sentiments, and impulses, making up the individual +character. We think of her as a mother, because, as a mother distracted +for the loss of her son, she is immediately presented before us, and +calls forth our sympathy and our tears; but we infer the rest of her +character from what we see, as certainly and as completely as if we had +known her whole course of life. + +That which strikes us as the principal attribute of Constance is +_power_--power of imagination, of will, of passion, of affection, of +pride: the moral energy, that faculty which is principally exercised in +self-control, and gives consistency to the rest, is deficient; or +rather, to speak more correctly, the extraordinary development of +sensibility and imagination, which lends to the character its rich +poetical coloring, leaves the other qualities comparatively subordinate. +Hence it is that the whole complexion of the character, notwithstanding +its amazing grandeur, is so exquisitely feminine. The weakness of the +woman, who by the very consciousness of that weakness is worked up to +desperation and defiance, the fluctuations of temper and the bursts of +sublime passion, the terrors, the impatience, and the tears, are all +most true to feminine nature. The energy of Constance not being based +upon strength of character, rises and falls with the tide of passion. +Her haughty spirit swells against resistance, and is excited into frenzy +by sorrow and disappointment while neither from her towering pride, nor +her strength of intellect, can she borrow patience to submit, or +fortitude to endure. It is, therefore, with perfect truth of nature, +that Constance is first introduced as pleading for peace. + + Stay for an answer to your embassy, + Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: + My Lord Chatillon may from England bring + That right in peace, which here we urge in war; + And then we shall repent each drop of blood, + That hot, rash haste so indirectly shed. + +And that the same woman, when all her passions are roused by the sense +of injury, should afterwards exclaim, + + War, war! No peace! peace is to me a war! + +That she should be ambitious for her son, proud of his high birth and +royal rights, and violent in defending them, is most natural; but I +cannot agree with those who think that in the mind of Constance, +_ambition_--that is, the love of dominion for its own sake--is either a +strong motive or a strong feeling: it could hardly be so where the +natural impulses and the ideal power predominate in so high a degree. +The vehemence with which she asserts the just and legal rights of her +son is that of a fond mother and a proud-spirited woman, stung with the +sense of injury, and herself a reigning sovereign,--by birth and right, +if not in fact: yet when bereaved of her son, grief not only "fills the +room up of her absent child," but seems to absorb every other faculty +and feeling--even pride and anger. It is true that she exults over him +as one whom nature and fortune had destined to be _great_, but in her +distraction for his loss, she thinks of him only as her "Pretty Arthur." + + O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! + My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! + My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure! + +No other feeling can be traced through the whole of her frantic scene: +it is grief only, a mother's heart-rending, soul-absorbing grief, and +nothing else. Not even indignation, or the desire of revenge, interfere +with its soleness and intensity. An ambitious woman would hardly have +thus addressed the cold, wily Cardinal:-- + + And, Father Cardinal, I have heard you say, + That we shall see and know our friends in heaven: + If that be true, I shall see my boy again: + For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, + To him that did but yesterday suspire, + There was not such a gracious creature born. + But now will canker eat my bud, + And chase the native beauty from his cheek, + And he will look as hollow as a ghost; + As dim and merge as an ague's fit; + And so he'll die; and rising so again, + When I shall meet him in the court of heaven + I shall not know him: therefore never, never. + Must I behold my pretty Arthur more! + +The bewildered pathos and poetry of this address could be natural in no +woman, who did not unite, like Constance, the most passionate +sensibility with the most vivid imagination. + +It is true that Queen Elinor calls her on one occasion, "ambitious +Constance;" but the epithet is rather the natural expression of Elinor's +own fear and hatred than really applicable.[87] Elinor, in whom age had +subdued all passions but ambition, dreaded the mother of Arthur as her +rival in power, and for that reason only opposed the claims of the son: +but I conceive, that in a woman yet in the prime of life, and endued +with the peculiar disposition of Constance, the mere love of power would +be too much modified by fancy and feeling to be called a _passion_. + +In fact, it is not pride, nor temper, nor ambition, nor even maternal +affection, which in Constance gives the prevailing tone to the whole +character; it is the predominance of imagination. I do not mean in the +conception of the dramatic portrait, but in the temperament of the woman +herself. In the poetical, fanciful, excitable cast of her mind, in the +_excess_ of the ideal power, tinging all her affections, exalting all +her sentiments and thoughts, and animating the expression of both, +Constance can only be compared to Juliet. + +In the first place, it is through the power of imagination that when +under the influence of excited temper, Constance is not a mere incensed +woman; nor does she, in the style of Volumnia, "lament in anger, +Juno-like," but rather like a sibyl in a fury. Her sarcasms come down +like thunderbolts. In her famous address to Austria-- + + O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame + That bloody spoil! thou slave! thou wretch! thou coward! &c. + +it is as if she had concentrated the burning spirit of scorn, and dashed +it in his face: every word seems to blister where it falls. In the +scolding scene between her and Queen Elinor, the laconic insolence of +the latter is completely overborne by the torrent of bitter contumely +which bursts from the lips of Constance, clothed in the most energetic, +and often in the most figurative expressions. + + ELINOR. + + Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + + CONSTANCE. + + Let me make answer; Thy usurping son. + + ELINOR. + + Out insolent! thy bastard shall be king, + That thou may'st be a queen, and check the world! + + CONSTANCE. + + My bed was ever to thy son as true, + As thine was to thy husband; and this boy + Liker in feature to his father Geffrey, + Than thou and John in manners: being as like + As rain to water, or devil to his dam. + My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think + His father never was so true begot; + It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + + ELINOR. + + There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + + CONSTANCE. + + There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + + * * * * + + ELINOR. + + Come to thy grandam, child. + + CONSTANCE. + + Do child; go to its grandam, child: + Give grandam kingdom, and its grandam will + Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: + There's a good grandam. + + ARTHUR. + + Good my mother, peace! + I would that I were low laid in my grave; + I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + + ELINOR. + + His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + + CONSTANCE. + + Now shame upon you, whe'r she does or no! + His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shame, + Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes + Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee: + Ay, with these crystal beads heav'n shall be bribed + To do him justice, and revenge on you. + + ELINOR. + + Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + + CONSTANCE. + + Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! + Call me not slanderer; thou and thine usurp + The dominations, royalties, and rights + Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eldest son's son + Infortunate in nothing but in thee. + + * * * * + + ELINOR. + + Thou unadvised scold, I can produce + A will that bars the title of thy son. + + CONSTANCE. + + Ay, who doubts that? A will! a wicked will-- + A woman's will--a canker'd grandam's will! + + KING PHILIP. + + Peace, lady: pause, or be more moderate. + +And in a very opposite mood, when struggling with the consciousness of +her own helpless situation, the same susceptible and excitable fancy +still predominates:-- + + Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me; + For I am sick, and capable of fears; + Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears + A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; + A woman, naturally born to fears; + And though thou now confess thou didst but jest + With my vexed spirits, I cannot take a truce, + But they will quake and tremble all this day. + What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? + Why dost thou look so sadly on my son? + What means that hand upon that breast of thine? + Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, + Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds? + Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? + + * * * * + + Fellow, begone! I cannot brook thy sight-- + This news hath made thee a most ugly man! + +It is the power of imagination which gives so peculiar a tinge to the +maternal tenderness of Constance; she not only loves her son with the +fond instinct of a mother's affection, but she loves him with her +poetical imagination, exults in his beauty and his royal birth, hangs +over him with idolatry, and sees his infant brow already encircled with +the diadem. Her proud spirit, her ardent enthusiastic fancy, and her +energetic self-will, all combine with her maternal love to give it that +tone and character which belongs to her only: hence that most beautiful +address to her son, which coming from the lips of Constance, is as full +of nature and truth as of pathos and poetry, and which we could hardly +sympathize with in any other:-- + + ARTHUR. + + I do beseech you, madam, be content. + + CONSTANCE. + + If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, + Ugly, and slanderous to thy mother's womb, + Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains, + Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious. + Patched with foul moles and eye-offending marks, + I would not care--I then would be content; + For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou + Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown. + But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy! + Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: + Of Nature's gifts thou mayest with lilies boast, + And with the half-blown rose: but Fortune, O! + She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee; + She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John; + And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France + To tread down fair respect of sovereignty. + +It is this exceeding vivacity of imagination which in the end turns +sorrow to frenzy. Constance is not only a bereaved and doating mother, +but a generous woman, betrayed by her own rash confidence; in whose mind +the sense of injury mingling with the sense of grief, and her impetuous +temper conflicting with her pride, combine to overset her reason; yet +she is not mad: and how admirably, how forcibly she herself draws the +distinction between the frantic violence of uncontrolled feeling and +actual madness!-- + + Thou art not holy to belie me so; + I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; + My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; + Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost: + I am not mad; I would to Heaven I were! + For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: + O, if I could, what grief should I forget! + +Not only has Constance words at will, and fast as the passionate +feelings rise in her mind they are poured forth with vivid, overpowering +eloquence; but, like Juliet, she may be said to speak in pictures. For +instance:-- + + Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum? + Like a proud river peering o'er its bounds. + +And throughout the whole dialogue there is the same overflow of +eloquence, the same splendor of diction, the same luxuriance of imagery; +yet with an added grandeur, arising from habits of command, from the +age, the rank, and the matronly character of Constance. Thus Juliet +pours forth her love like a muse in a rapture: Constance raves in her +sorrow like a Pythoness possessed with the spirit of pain. The love of +Juliet is deep and infinite as the boundless sea: and the grief of +Constance is so great, that nothing but the round world itself is able +to sustain it. + + I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; + For grief is proud and makes his owner stout. + To me, and to the state of my great grief + Let kings assemble, for my grief's so great, + That no supporter but the huge firm earth + Can hold it up. Here I and Sorrow sit; + Here is my throne,--bid kings come bow to it! + +An image more majestic, more wonderfully sublime, was never presented to +the fancy; yet almost equal as a flight of poetry is her apostrophe to +the heavens;-- + + Arm, arm, ye heavens, against these perjured kings + A widow calls!--be husband to me, heavens! + +And again-- + + O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth, + Then with a passion would I shake the world! + +Not only do her thoughts start into images, but her feelings become +persons: grief haunts her as a living presence: + + Grief fills the room up of my absent child; + Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; + Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, + Remembers me of all his gracious parts, + Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; + Then have I reason to be fond of grief. + +And death is welcomed as a bridegroom; she sees the visionary monster as +Juliet _saw_ "the bloody Tybalt festering in his shroud," and heaps one +ghastly image upon another with all the wild luxuriance of a distempered +fancy:-- + + O amiable, lovely death! + Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! + Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, + Thou hate and terror to prosperity, + And I will kiss thy detestable bones; + And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows; + And right these fingers with thy household worms; + And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust; + And be a carrion monster like thyself; + Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st, + And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love, + O come to me! + +Constance, who is a majestic being, is majestic in her very frenzy. +Majesty is also the characteristic of Hermione: but what a difference +between _her_ silent, lofty, uncomplaining despair, and the eloquent +grief of Constance, whose wild lamentations, which come bursting forth +clothed in the grandest, the most poetical imagery, not only melt, but +absolutely electrify us! + +On the whole, it may be said that pride and maternal affection form the +basis of the character of Constance, as it is exhibited to us; but that +these passions, in an equal degree common to many human beings, assume +their peculiar and individual tinge from an extraordinary development of +intellect and fancy. It is the energy of passion which lends the +character its concentrated power, as it is the prevalence of imagination +throughout which dilates it into magnificence. + +Some of the most splendid poetry to be met with in Shakspeare, may be +found in the parts of Juliet and Constance; the most splendid, perhaps, +excepting only the parts of Lear and Othello; and for the same +reason,--that Lear and Othello as men, and Juliet and Constance as +women, are distinguished by the predominance of the same +faculties,--passion and imagination. + +The sole deviation from history which may be considered as essentially +interfering with the truth of the situation, is the entire omission of +the character of Guy de Thouars, so that Constance is incorrectly +represented as in a state of widowhood, at a period when, in point of +fact, she was married. It may be observed, that her marriage took place +just at the period of the opening of the drama; that Guy de Thouars +played no conspicuous part in the affairs of Bretagne till after the +death of Constance, and that the mere presence of this personage, +altogether superfluous in the action, would have completely destroyed +the dramatic interest of the situation;--and what a situation! One more +magnificent was never placed before the mind's eye than that of +Constance, when, deserted and betrayed, she stands alone in her despair, +amid her false friends and her ruthless enemies![88] The image of the +mother-eagle, wounded and bleeding to death, yet stretched over her +young in an attitude of defiance, while all the baser birds of prey are +clamoring around her eyry, gives but a faint idea of the moral sublimity +of this scene. Considered merely as a poetical or dramatic picture, the +grouping is wonderfully fine; on one side, the vulture ambition of that +mean-souled tyrant, John; on the other, the selfish, calculating policy +of Philip: between them, balancing their passions in his hand, the cold, +subtle, heartless Legate: the fiery, reckless Falconbridge; the princely +Louis; the still unconquered spirit of that wrangling queen, old Elinor; +the bridal loveliness and modesty of Blanche; the boyish grace and +innocence of young Arthur; and Constance in the midst of them, in all +the state of her great grief, a grand impersonation of pride and +passion, helpless at once and desperate,--form an assemblage of figures, +each perfect in its kind, and, taken all together, not surpassed for the +variety, force, and splendor of the dramatic and picturesque effect. + + +QUEEN ELINOR. + +Elinor of Guienne, and Blanche of Castile, who form part of the group +around Constance, are sketches merely, but they are strictly historical +portraits, and full of truth and spirit. + +At the period when Shakspeare has brought these three women on the scene +together, Elinor of Guienne (the daughter of the last Duke of Guienne +and Aquitaine, and like Constance, the heiress of a sovereign duchy) was +near the close of her long, various, and unquiet life--she was nearly +seventy: and, as in early youth, her violent passions had overborne both +principle and policy, so in her old age we see the same character, only +modified by time; her strong intellect and love of power, unbridled by +conscience or principle, surviving when other passions were +extinguished, and rendered more dangerous by a degree of subtlety and +self-command to which her youth had been a stranger. Her personal and +avowed hatred for Constance, together with its motives, are mentioned by +the old historians. Holinshed expressly says, that Queen Elinor was +mightily set against her grandson Arthur, rather moved thereto by envy +conceived against his mother, than by any fault of the young prince, for +that she knew and dreaded the high spirit of the Lady Constance. + +Shakspeare has rendered this with equal spirit and fidelity. + + QUEEN ELINOR. + + What now, my son! have I not ever said, + How that ambitious Constance would not cease, + Till she had kindled France and all the world + Upon the right and party of her son? + This might have been prevented and made whole + With very easy arguments of love; + Which now the manage of two kingdoms must + With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + + KING JOHN. + + Our strong possession and our right for us! + + QUEEN ELINOR. + + Your strong possession much more than your right; + Or else it must go wrong with you and me. + So much my conscience whispers in your ear-- + Which none but Heaven, and you, and I shall hear. + +Queen Elinor preserved to the end of her life her influence over her +children, and appears to have merited their respect. While intrusted +with the government, during the absence of Richard I., she ruled with a +steady hand, and made herself exceedingly popular; and as long as she +lived to direct the counsels of her son John, his affairs prospered. For +that intemperate jealousy which converted her into a domestic firebrand, +there was at least much cause, though little excuse. Elinor had hated +and wronged the husband of her youth,[89] and she had afterwards to +endure the negligence and innumerable infidelities of the husband whom +she passionately loved:[90]--"and so the whirligig of time brought in +his revenges." Elinor died in 1203, a few months after Constance, and +before the murder of Arthur--a crime which, had she lived, would +probably never have been consummated; for the nature of Elinor, though +violent, had no tincture of the baseness and cruelty of her son. + + +BLANCHE. + +Blanche of Castile was the daughter of Alphonso IX. of Castile, and the +grand-daughter of Elinor. At the time that she is introduced into the +drama, she was about fifteen, and her marriage with Louis VIII., then +Dauphin, took place in the abrupt manner here represented. It is not +often that political marriages have the same happy result. We are told +by the historians of that time, that from the moment Louis and Blanche +met, they were inspired by a mutual passion, and that during a union of +more than twenty-six years they were never known to differ, nor even +spent more than a single day asunder.[91] + +In her exceeding beauty and blameless reputation; her love for her +husband, and strong domestic affections; her pride of birth and rank; +her feminine gentleness of deportment; her firmness of temper; her +religious bigotry; her love of absolute power, and her upright and +conscientious administration of it, Blanche greatly resembled Maria +Theresa of Austria. She was, however, of a more cold and calculating +nature; and in proportion as she was less amiable as a woman, did she +rule more happily for herself and others. There cannot be a greater +contrast than between the acute understanding, the steady temper, and +the cool intriguing policy of Blanche, by which she succeeded in +disuniting and defeating the powers arrayed against her and her infant +son, and the rash confiding temper and susceptible imagination of +Constance, which rendered herself and her son easy victims to the fraud +or ambition of others. Blanche, during forty years, held in her hands +the destinies of the greater part of Europe, and is one of the most +celebrated names recorded in history--but in what does she survive to us +except in a name? Nor history, nor fame, though "trumpet-tongued," could +do for _her_ what Shakspeare and poetry have done for Constance. The +earthly reign of Blanche is over, her sceptre broken, and her power +departed. When will the reign of Constance cease? when will _her_ power +depart? Not while this world is a world, and there exists in it human +souls to kindle at the touch of genius, and human hearts to throb with +human sympathies! + + * * * * * + +There is no female character of any interest in the play of Richard II. +The Queen (Isabelle of France) enacts the same passive part in the drama +that she does in history. + +The same remark applies to Henry IV. In this admirable play there is no +female character of any importance; but Lady Percy, the wife of Hotspur, +is a very lively and beautiful sketch: she is sprightly, feminine, and +fond; but without any thing energetic or profound, in mind or in +feeling. Her gayety and spirit in the first scenes, are the result of +youth and happiness, and nothing can be more natural than the utter +dejection and brokenness of heart which follow her husband's death: she +is no heroine for war or tragedy; she has no thought of revenging her +loss; and even her grief has something soft and quiet in its pathos. Her +speech to her father-in-law, Northumberland, in which she entreats him +"not to go to the wars," and at the same time pronounces the most +beautiful eulogium on her heroic husband, is a perfect piece of feminine +eloquence, both in the feeling and in the expression. + +Almost every one knows by heart Lady Percy's celebrated address to her +husband, beginning, + + O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? + +and that of Portia to Brutus, in Julius Caesar, + + ... You've ungently, Brutus, + Stol'n from my bed. + +The situation is exactly similar, the topics of remonstrance are nearly +the same; the sentiments and the style as opposite as are the characters +of the two women. Lady Percy is evidently accustomed to win more from +her fiery lord by caresses than by reason: he loves her in his rough way +"as Harry Percy's wife," but she has no real influence over him: he has +no confidence in her. + + LADY PERCY. + + ... In faith, + I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. + I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir + About this title, and hath sent for you + To line his enterprise, but if you go-- + + HOTSPUR. + + So far afoot, I shall be weary, love! + +The whole scene is admirable, but unnecessary here, because it +illustrates no point of character in her. Lady Percy has no _character_, +properly so called; whereas, that of Portia is very distinctly and +faithfully drawn from the outline furnished by Plutarch. Lady Percy's +fond upbraidings, and her half playful, half pouting entreaties, +scarcely gain her husband's attention. Portia, with true matronly +dignity and tenderness, pleads her right to share her husband's +thoughts, and proves it too + + I grant I am a woman, but withal, + A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife, + I grant I am a woman, but withal, + A woman well reputed--Cato's daughter. + Think you, I am no stronger than my sex + Being so father'd and so husbanded? + + * * * * + + BRUTUS. + + You are my true and honorable wife: + As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops + That visit my sad heart! + +Portia, as Shakspeare has truly felt and represented the character, is +but a softened reflection of that of her husband Brutus: in him we see +an excess of natural sensibility, an almost womanish tenderness of +heart, repressed by the tenets of his austere philosophy: a stoic by +profession, and in reality the reverse--acting deeds against his nature +by the strong force of principle and will. In Portia there is the same +profound and passionate feeling, and all her sex's softness and +timidity, held in check by that self-discipline, that stately dignity, +which she thought became a woman "so fathered and so husbanded." The +fact of her inflicting on herself a voluntary wound to try her own +fortitude, is perhaps the strongest proof of this disposition. Plutarch +relates, that on the day on which Caesar was assassinated, Portia +appeared overcome with terror, and even swooned away, but did not in her +emotion utter a word which could affect the conspirators. Shakspeare has +rendered this circumstance literally. + + PORTIA. + + I pr'ythee, boy, run to the senate house, + Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone. + Why dost thou stay? + + LUCIUS. + + To know my errand, madam. + + PORTIA. + + I would have had thee there and here again, + Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there. + O constancy! be strong upon my side: + Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! + I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. + ... Ah me! how weak a thing + The heart of woman is! O I grow faint, &c. + +There is another beautiful incident related by Plutarch, which could not +well be dramatized. When Brutus and Portia parted for the last time in +the island of Nisida, she restrained all expression of grief that she +might not shake _his_ fortitude; but afterwards, in passing through a +chamber in which there hung a picture of Hector and Andromache, she +stopped, gazed upon it for a time with a settled sorrow, and at length +burst into a passion of tears.[92] + +If Portia had been a Christian, and lived in later times, she might have +been another Lady Russel; but she made a poor stoic. No factitious or +external control was sufficient to restrain such an exuberance of +sensibility and fancy: and those who praise the _philosophy_ of Portia +and the _heroism_ of her death, certainly mistook the character +altogether. It is evident, from the manner of her death, that it was not +deliberate self-destruction, "after the high Roman fashion," but took +place in a paroxysm of madness, caused by overwrought and suppressed +feeling, grief, terror, and suspense. Shakspeare has thus represented +it:-- + + BRUTUS. + + O Cassius! I am sick of many griefs! + + CASSIUS. + + Of your philosophy you make no use, + If you give place to accidental evils. + + BRUTUS. + + No man bears sorrow better; Portia's dead. + + CASSIUS. + + Ha!--Portia? + + BRUTUS. + + She is dead. + + CASSIUS. + + How 'scap'd I killing when I cross'd you so? + O insupportable and touching loss-- + Upon what sickness? + + BRUTUS. + + Impatient of my absence, + And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony + Had made themselves so strong--(for with her death + These tidings came)--_with this she fell distract_, + And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. + +So much for woman's philosophy! + + +MARGARET OF ANJOU. + +Malone has written an essay, to prove from external and internal +evidence, that the three parts of King Henry VI. were not originally +written by Shakspeare, but altered by him from two old plays,[93] with +considerable improvements and additions of his own. Burke, Porson, Dr. +Warburton, and Dr. Farmer, pronounced this piece of criticism +convincing and unanswerable; but Dr. Johnson and Steevens would not be +convinced, and, moreover, have contrived to answer the _unanswerable_. +"Who shall decide when doctors disagree?" The only arbiter in such a +case is one's own individual taste and judgment. To me it appears that +the three parts of Henry VI. have less of poetry and passion, and more +of unnecessary verbosity and inflated language, than the rest of +Shakspeare's works; that the continual exhibition of treachery, +bloodshed, and violence, is revolting, and the want of unity of action, +and of a pervading interest, oppressive and fatiguing; but also that +there are splendid passages in the Second and Third Parts, such as +Shakspeare alone could have written: and this is not denied by the most +skeptical.[94] + +Among the arguments against the authenticity of these plays, the +character of Margaret of Anjou has not been adduced, and yet to those +who have studied Shakspeare in his own spirit, it will appear the most +conclusive of all. When we compare her with his other female characters, +we are struck at once by the want of family likeness; Shakspeare was not +always equal, but he had not two _manners_, as they say of painters. I +discern his hand in particular parts, but I cannot recognize his spirit +in the conception of the whole: he may have laid on some of the colors, +but the original design has a certain hardness and heaviness, very +unlike his usual style. Margaret of Anjou, as exhibited in these +tragedies, is a dramatic portrait of considerable truth, and vigor, and +consistency--but she is not one of Shakspeare's women. He who knew so +well in what true greatness of spirit consisted--who could excite our +respect and sympathy even for a Lady Macbeth, would never have given us +a heroine without a touch of heroism; he would not have portrayed a +high-hearted woman, struggling unsubdued against the strangest +vicissitudes of fortune, meeting reverses and disasters, such as would +have broken the most masculine spirit, with unshaken constancy, yet left +her without a single personal quality which would excite our interest in +her bravely-endured misfortunes; and this too in the very face of +history. He would not have given us, in lieu of the magnanimous queen, +the subtle and accomplished French woman, a mere "Amazonian trull," with +every coarser feature of depravity and ferocity; he would have redeemed +her from unmingled detestation; he would have breathed into her some of +his own sweet spirit--he would have given the woman a soul. + +The old chronicler Hall informs us, that Queen Margaret "excelled all +other as well in beauty and favor, as in wit and policy, and was in +stomach and courage more like to a man than to a woman." He adds, that +after the espousals of Henry and Margaret, "the king's friends fell from +him; the lords of the realm fell in division among themselves; the +Commons rebelled against their natural prince; fields were foughten; +many thousands slain; and, finally, the king was deposed, and his son +slain, and his queen sent home again with as much misery and sorrow as +she was received with pomp and triumph." + +This passage seems to have furnished the groundwork of the character as +it is developed in these plays with no great depth or skill. Margaret is +portrayed with all the exterior graces of her sex; as bold and artful, +with spirit to dare, resolution to act, and fortitude to endure; but +treacherous, haughty, dissembling, vindictive, and fierce. The bloody +struggle for power in which she was engaged, and the companionship of +the ruthless iron men around her, seem to have left her nothing of +womanhood but the heart of a mother--that last stronghold of our +feminine nature! So far the character is consistently drawn: it has +something of the power, but none of the flowing ease of Shakspeare's +manner. There are fine materials not well applied; there is poetry in +some of the scenes and speeches; the situations are often exceedingly +poetical; but in the character of Margaret herself, there is not an atom +of poetry. In her artificial dignity, her plausible wit, and her endless +volubility, she would remind us of some of the most admired heroines of +French tragedy, but for that unlucky box on the ear which she gives the +Duchess of Gloster,--a violation of tragic decorum, which of course +destroys all parallel. + +Having said thus much, I shall point out some of the finest and most +characteristic scenes in which Margaret appears. The speech in which she +expresses her scorn of her meek husband, and her impatience of the power +exercised by those fierce overbearing barons, York, Salisbury, Warwick, +Buckingham, is very fine, and conveys as faithful an idea of those +feudal times as of the woman who speaks. The burst of female spite with +which she concludes, is admirable-- + + Not all these lords do vex me half so much + As that proud dame, the Lord Protector's wife. + She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, + More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife. + Strangers in court do take her for the queen: + She bears a duke's revenues on her back, + And in her heart she scorns our poverty. + Shall I not live to be avenged on her? + Contemptuous base-born callet as she is! + She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, + The very train of her worst wearing gown + Was better worth than all my father's lands, + Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +Her intriguing spirit, the facility with which she enters into the +murderous confederacy against the good Duke Humphrey, the artful +plausibility with which she endeavours to turn suspicion from +herself--confounding her gentle consort by mere dint of words--are +exceedingly characteristic, but not the less revolting. + +Her criminal love for Suffolk (which is a dramatic incident, not an +historic fact) gives rise to the beautiful parting scene in the third +act; a scene which it is impossible to read without a thrill of emotion, +hurried away by that power and pathos which forces us to sympathize with +the eloquence of grief, yet excites not a momentary interest either for +Margaret or her lover. The ungoverned fury of Margaret in the first +instance, the manner in which she calls on Suffolk to curse his enemies, +and then shrinks back overcome by the violence of the spirit she had +herself evoked, and terrified by the vehemence of his imprecations; the +transition in her mind from the extremity of rage to tears and melting +fondness, have been pronounced, and justly, to be in Shakspeare's own +manner. + + Go, speak not to me--even now begone. + O go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd + Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, + Loather a hundred times to part than die: + Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee! + +which is followed by that beautiful and intense burst of passion from +Suffolk-- + + 'Tis not the hand I care for, wert thou hence; + A wilderness is populous enough, + So Suffolk had thy heavenly company: + For where thou art, there is the world itself, + With every several pleasure in the world; + And where thou art not, desolation! + +In the third part of Henry the Sixth, Margaret, engaged in the terrible +struggle for her husband's throne, appears to rather more advantage. The +indignation against Henry, who had pitifully yielded his son's +birthright for the privilege of reigning unmolested during his own life, +is worthy of her, and gives rise to a beautiful speech. We are here +inclined to sympathize with her; but soon after follows the murder of +the Duke of York; and the base revengeful spirit and atrocious cruelty +with which she insults over him, unarmed and a prisoner,--the bitterness +of her mockery, and the unwomanly malignity with which she presents him +with the napkin stained with the blood of his youngest son, and "bids +the father wipe his eyes withal," turn all our sympathy into aversion +and horror. York replies in the celebrated speech, beginning-- + + She-wolf of France, and worse than wolves of France, + Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth-- + +and taunts her with the poverty of her father, the most irritating topic +he could have chosen. + + Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? + It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, + Unless the adage must be verified, + That beggars, mounted, ride their horse to death. + 'Tis beauty, that doth oft make women proud; + But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small. + 'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; + The contrary doth make thee wondered at. + 'Tis government that makes them seem divine, + The want thereof makes thee abominable. + + * * * * + + O tiger's heart, wrapped in a woman's hide! + How could'st thou drain the life-blood of the child + To bid the father wipe his face withal, + And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? + Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible, + Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless! + +By such a woman as Margaret is here depicted such a speech could be +answered only in one way--with her dagger's point--and thus she answers +it. + +It is some comfort to reflect that this trait of ferocity is not +historical: the body of the Duke of York was found, after the battle, +among the heaps of slain, and his head struck off: but even this was not +done by the command of Margaret. + +In another passage, the truth and consistency of the character of +Margaret are sacrificed to the march of the dramatic action, with a very +ill effect. When her fortunes were at the very lowest ebb, and she had +sought refuge in the court of the French king, Warwick, her most +formidable enemy, upon some disgust he had taken against Edward the +Fourth, offered to espouse her cause; and proposed a match between the +prince her son and his daughter Anne of Warwick--the "gentle Lady Anne," +who figures in Richard the Third. In the play, Margaret embraces the +offer without a moment's hesitation:[95] we are disgusted by her +versatile policy, and a meanness of spirit in no way allied to the +magnanimous forgiveness of her terrible adversary. The Margaret of +history sternly resisted this degrading expedient. She could not, she +said, pardon from her heart the man who had been the primary cause of +all her misfortunes. She mistrusted Warwick, despised him for the +motives of his revolt from Edward, and considered that to match her son +into the family of her enemy from mere policy was a species of +degradation. It took Louis the Eleventh, with all his art and +eloquence, fifteen days to wring a reluctant consent, accompanied with +tears, from this high-hearted woman. + +The speech of Margaret to her council of generals before the battle of +Tewksbury, (Act v. scene 5,) is as remarkable a specimen of false +rhetoric, as her address to the soldiers, on the eve of the fight, is of +true and passionate eloquence. + +She witnesses the final defeat of her army, the massacre of her +adherents, and the murder of her son; and though the savage Richard +would willingly have put an end to her misery, and exclaims very +pertinently-- + + Why should she live to fill the world with words? + +she is dragged forth unharmed, a woful spectacle of extremest +wretchedness, to which death would have been an undeserved relief. If we +compare the clamorous and loud exclaims of Margaret after the slaughter +of her son, to the ravings of Constance, we shall perceive where +Shakspeare's genius did _not_ preside, and where it _did_. Margaret, in +bold defiance of history, but with fine dramatic effect, is introduced +again in the gorgeous and polluted court of Edward the Fourth. There she +stalks around the seat of her former greatness, like a terrible phantom +of departed majesty, uncrowned, unsceptered, desolate, powerless--or +like a vampire thirsting for blood--or like a grim prophetess of evil, +imprecating that ruin on the head of her enemies, which she lived to see +realized. The scene following the murder of the princes in the Tower, +in which Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of York sit down on the ground +bewailing their desolation, and Margaret suddenly appears from behind +them, like the very personification of woe, and seats herself beside +them revelling in their despair, is, in the general conception and +effect grand and appalling. + + THE DUCHESS. + + O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes; + God witness with me, I have wept for thine! + + QUEEN MARGARET. + + Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, + And now I cloy me with beholding it. + Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; + Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward: + Young York he is but boot, because both they + Match not the high perfection of my loss. + Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; + And the beholders of this tragic play, + The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, + Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. + Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer, + Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls + And send them thither. But at hand, at hand, + Ensues his piteous and unpitied end; + Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar for him: saints pray + To have him suddenly convey'd from hence. + Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, + That I may live to say, The dog is dead.[96] + +She should have stopped here; but the effect thus powerfully excited is +marred and weakened by so much superfluous rhetoric, that we are tempted +to exclaim with the old Duchess of York-- + + Why should calamity be full of words? + + +QUEEN KATHERINE OF ARRAGON. + +To have a just idea of the accuracy and beauty of this historical +portrait, we ought to bring immediately before us those circumstances of +Katherine's life and times, and those parts of her character, which +belong to a period previous to the opening of the play. We shall then be +better able to appreciate the skill with which Shakspeare has applied +the materials before him. + +Katherine of Arragon, the fourth and youngest daughter of Ferdinand, +King of Arragon, and Isabella of Castile, was born at Alcala, whither +her mother had retired to winter after one of the most terrible +campaigns of the Moorish war--that of 1485. + +Katherine had derived from nature no dazzling qualities of mind, and no +striking advantages of person. She inherited a tincture of Queen +Isabella's haughtiness and obstinacy of temper, but neither her beauty +nor her splendid talents. Her education under the direction of that +extraordinary mother, had implanted in her mind the most austere +principles of virtue, the highest ideas of female decorum, the most +narrow and bigoted attachment to the forms of religion, and that +excessive pride of birth and rank, which distinguished so particularly +her family and her nation. In other respects, her understanding was +strong, and her judgment clear. The natural turn of her mind was simple, +serious, and domestic, and all the impulses of her heart kindly and +benevolent. Such was Katherine; such, at least, she appears on a +reference to the chronicles of her times, and particularly from her own +letters, and the papers written or dictated by herself which relate to +her divorce; all of which are distinguished by the same artless +simplicity of style, the same quiet good sense, the same resolute, yet +gentle spirit and fervent piety. + +When five years old, Katherine was solemnly affianced to Arthur, Prince +of Wales, the eldest son of Henry VII.; and in the year 1501, she landed +in England, after narrowly escaping shipwreck on the southern coast, +from which every adverse wind conspired to drive her. She was received +in London with great honor, and immediately on her arrival united to the +young prince. He was then fifteen and Katherine in her seventeenth +year. + +Arthur, as it is well known, survived his marriage only five months; and +the reluctance of Henry VII. to refund the splendid dowry of the +Infanta, and forego the advantages of an alliance with the most powerful +prince of Europe, suggested the idea of uniting Katherine to his second +son Henry; after some hesitation, a dispensation was procured from the +Pope, and she was betrothed to Henry in her eighteenth year. The prince, +who was then only twelve years old, resisted as far as he was able to do +so, and appears to have really felt a degree of horror at the idea of +marrying his brother's widow. Nor was the mind of King Henry at rest; as +his health declined, his conscience reproached him with the equivocal +nature of the union into which he had forced his son; and the vile +motives of avarice and expediency which had governed him on this +occasion. A short time previous to his death, he dissolved the +engagement, and even caused Henry to sign a paper in which he solemnly +renounced all idea of a future union with the Infanta. It is observable, +that Henry signed this paper with reluctance, and that Katherine, +instead of being sent back to her own country, still remained in +England. + +It appears that Henry, who was now about seventeen, had become +interested for Katherine, who was gentle and amiable. The difference of +years was rather a circumstance in her favor; for Henry was just at that +age, when a youth is most likely to be captivated by a woman older than +himself: and no sooner was he required to renounce her, than the +interest she had gradually gained in his affections, became, by +opposition, a strong passion. Immediately after his father's death, he +declared his resolution to take for his wife the Lady Katherine of +Spain, and none other; and when the matter was discussed in council, it +was urged that, besides the many advantages of the match in a political +point of view, she had given so "much proof of virtue, and sweetness of +condition, as they knew not where to parallel her." About six weeks +after his accession, June 3, 1509, the marriage was celebrated with +truly royal splendor, Henry being then eighteen, and Katherine in her +twenty-fourth year. + +It has been said with truth, that if Henry had died while Katherine was +yet his wife, and Wolsey his minister, he would have left behind him the +character of a magnificent, popular, and accomplished prince, instead of +that of the most hateful ruffian and tyrant who ever swayed these +realms. Notwithstanding his occasional infidelities, and his impatience +at her midnight vigils, her long prayers, and her religious austerities, +Katherine and Henry lived in harmony together. He was fond of openly +displaying his respect and love for her; and she exercised a strong and +salutary influence over his turbulent and despotic spirit. When Henry +set out on his expedition to France, in 1513, he left Katherine regent +of the kingdom during his absence, with full powers to carry on the war +against the Scots; and the Earl of Surrey at the head of the army, as +her lieutenant-general. It is curious to find Katherine--the pacific, +domestic, and unpretending Katherine--describing herself as having "her +heart set to war," and "horrible busy" with making "standards, banners, +badges, scarfs, and the like."[97] Nor was this mere silken +preparation--mere dalliance with the pomp and circumstance of war; for +within a few weeks afterwards, her general defeated the Scots in the +famous battle of Floddenfield, where James IV. and most of his nobility +were slain.[98] + +Katherine's letter to Henry, announcing this event, so strikingly +displays the piety and tenderness, the quiet simplicity, and real +magnanimity of her character, that there cannot be a more apt and +beautiful illustration of the exquisite truth and keeping of +Shakspeare's portrait. + + + SIR, + + My Lord Howard hath sent me a letter, open to your Grace, + within one of mine, by the which ye shall see at length the + great victory that our Lord hath sent your subjects in your + absence: and for this cause, it is no need herein to trouble + your Grace with long writing; but to my thinking this battle + hath been to your Grace, and all your realm, the greatest + honor that could be, and more than ye should win all the + crown of France, thanked be God for it! And I am sure your + Grace forgetteth not to do this, which shall be cause to + send you many more such great victories, as I trust he shall + do. My husband, for haste, with Rougecross, I could not send + your Grace the piece of the king of Scots' coat, which John + Glyn now bringeth. In this your Grace shall see how I can + keep my promise, sending you for your banners a king's coat. + I thought to send himself unto you, but our Englishmen's + hearts would not suffer it. It should have been better for + him to have been in peace than have this reward, but all + that God sendeth is for the best. My Lord of Surrey, my + Henry, would fain know your pleasure in the burying of the + king of Scots' body, for he hath written to me so. With the + next messenger, your Grace's pleasure may be herein known. + And with this I make an end, praying God to send you home + shortly; for without this, no joy here can be + accomplished--and for the same I pray. And now go to our + Lady at Walsyngham, that I promised so long ago to see. + + At Woburn, the 16th day of September, (1513.) + + I send your Grace herein a bill, found in a Scottishman's + purse, of such things as the French king sent to the said + king of Scots, to make war against you, beseeching you to + send Mathew hither as soon as this messenger cometh with + tidings of your Grace. + + Your humble wife and true servant, + + KATHERINE.[99] + +The legality of the king's marriage with Katherine remained undisputed +till 1527. In the course of that year, Anna Bullen first appeared at +court, and was appointed maid of honor to the queen; and then, and not +till then, did Henry's union with his brother's wife "creep too near his +conscience." In the following year, he sent special messengers to Rome, +with secret instructions: they were required to discover (among other +"hard questions") whether, if the queen entered a religious life, the +king might have the Pope's dispensation to marry again; and whether if +the king (for the better inducing the queen thereto) would enter himself +into a religious life, the Pope would dispense with the king's vow, and +leave her there? + +Poor Katherine! we are not surprised to read that when she understood +what was intended against her, "she labored with all those passions +which jealousy of the king's affection, sense of her own honor, and the +legitimation of her daughter, could produce, laying in conclusion the +whole fault on the Cardinal." It is elsewhere said, that Wolsey bore the +queen ill-will, in consequence of her reflecting with some severity on +his haughty temper, and very unclerical life. + +The proceedings were pending for nearly six years, and one of the causes +of this long delay, in spite of Henry's impatient and despotic +character, is worth noting. The old Chronicle tells us, that though the +men generally, and more particularly the priests and the nobles sided +with Henry in this matter, yet all the ladies of England were against +it. They justly felt that the honor and welfare of no woman was secure +if, after twenty years of union, she might be thus deprived of all her +rights as a wife; the clamor became so loud and general, that the king +was obliged to yield to it for a time, to stop the proceedings, and to +banish Anna Bullen from the court. + +Cardinal Campeggio, called by Shakspeare Campeius, arrived in England in +October, 1528. He at first endeavored to persuade Katherine to avoid the +disgrace and danger of contesting her marriage, by entering a religious +house; but she rejected his advice with strong expressions of disdain. +"I am," said she, "the king's true wife, and to him married; and if all +doctors were dead, or law or learning far out of men's minds at the time +of our marriage, yet I cannot think that the court of Rome, and the +whole church of England, would have consented to a thing unlawful and +detestable as you call it. Still I say I am his wife, and for him will I +pray." + +About two years afterwards, Wolsey died, (in November, 1530;)--the king +and queen met for the last time on the 14th of July, 1531. Until that +period, some outward show of respect and kindness had been maintained +between them; but the king then ordered her to repair to a private +residence, and no longer to consider herself as his lawful wife. "To +which the virtuous and mourning queen replied no more than this, that to +whatever place she removed, nothing could remove her from being the +king's wife. And so they bid each other farewell; and from this time the +king never saw her more."[100] He married Anna Bullen in 1532, while the +decision relating to his former marriage was still pending. The sentence +of divorce to which Katherine never would submit, was finally pronounced +by Cranmer in 1533; and the unhappy queen, whose health had been +gradually declining through these troubles of heart, died January 29, +1536, in the fiftieth year of her age. + +Thus the action of the play of Henry VIII. includes events which +occurred from the impeachment of the Duke of Buckingham in 1521, to the +death of Katherine in 1536. In making the death of Katherine precede the +birth of Queen Elizabeth, Shakspeare has committed an anachronism, not +only pardonable, but necessary. We must remember that the construction +of the play required a happy termination; and that the birth of +Elizabeth, before or after the death of Katherine, involved the question +of her legitimacy. By this slight deviation from the real course of +events, Shakspeare has not perverted historic facts, but merely +sacrificed them to a higher principle; and in doing so has not only +preserved dramatic propriety, and heightened the poetical interest, but +has given a strong proof both of his delicacy and his judgment. + +If we also call to mind that in this play Katherine is properly the +heroine, and exhibited from first to last as the very "queen of earthly +queens;" that the whole interest is thrown round her and Wolsey--the one +the injured rival, the other the enemy of Anna Bullen--and that it was +written in the reign and for the court of Elizabeth, we shall yet +farther appreciate the moral greatness of the poet's mind, which +disdained to sacrifice justice and the truth of nature to any +time-serving expediency. + +Schlegel observes somewhere, that in the literal accuracy and apparent +artlessness with which Shakspeare has adapted some of the events and +characters of history to his dramatic purposes, he has shown equally his +genius and his wisdom. This, like most of Schlegel's remarks, is +profound and true; and in this respect Katherine of Arragon may rank as +the triumph of Shakspeare's genius and his wisdom. There is nothing in +the whole range of poetical fiction in any respect resembling or +approaching her; there is nothing comparable, I suppose, but Katherine's +own portrait by Holbein, which, equally true to the life, is yet as far +inferior as Katherine's person was inferior to her mind. Not only has +Shakspeare given us here a delineation as faithful as it is beautiful, +of a peculiar modification of character; but he has bequeathed us a +precious moral lesson in this proof that virtue alone,--(by which I mean +here the union of truth or conscience with benevolent affection--the +one the highest law, the other the purest impulse of the soul,)--that +such virtue is a sufficient source of the deepest pathos and power with +out any mixture of foreign or external ornament: for who but Shakspeare +would have brought before us a queen and a heroine of tragedy, stripped +her of all pomp of place and circumstance, dispensed with all the usual +sources of poetical interest, as youth, beauty, grace, fancy, commanding +intellect; and without any appeal to our imagination, without any +violation of historical truth, or any sacrifices of the other dramatic +personages for the sake of effect, could depend on the moral principle +alone, to touch the very springs of feeling in our bosoms, and melt and +elevate our hearts through the purest and holiest impulses of our +nature! + +The character, when analyzed, is, in the first place, distinguished by +_truth_. I do not only mean its truth to nature, or its relative truth +arising from its historic fidelity and dramatic consistency, but _truth_ +as a quality of the soul; this is the basis of the character. We often +hear it remarked that those who are themselves perfectly true and +artless, are in this world the more easily and frequently deceived--a +common-place fallacy: for we shall ever find that truth is as undeceived +as it is undeceiving, and that those who are true to themselves and +others, may now and then be mistaken, or in particular instances duped +by the intervention of some other affection or quality of the mind; but +they are generally free from illusion, and they are seldom imposed upon +in the long run by the shows of things and superfices of characters. It +is by this integrity of heart and clearness of understanding, this light +of truth within her own soul, and not through any acuteness of +intellect, that Katherine detects and exposes the real character of +Wolsey, though unable either to unravel his designs, or defeat them. + + ... My lord, my lord, + I am a simple woman, much too weak + T' oppose your cunning. + +She rather intuitively feels than knows his duplicity, and in the +dignity of her simplicity she towers above his arrogance as much as she +scorns his crooked policy. With this essential truth are combined many +other qualities, natural or acquired, all made out with the same +uncompromising breadth of execution and fidelity of pencil, united with +the utmost delicacy of feeling. For instance, the apparent contradiction +arising from the contrast between Katherine's natural disposition and +the situation in which she is placed; her lofty Castilian pride and her +extreme simplicity of language and deportment; the inflexible resolution +with which she asserts her right, and her soft resignation to unkindness +and wrong; her warmth of temper breaking through the meekness of a +spirit subdued by a deep sense of religion; and a degree of austerity +tinging her real benevolence;--all these qualities, opposed yet +harmonizing, has Shakspeare placed before us in a few admirable scenes. + +Katherine is at first introduced as pleading before the king in behalf +of the commonalty, who had been driven by the extortions of Wolsey into +some illegal excesses. In this scene, which is true to history, we have +her upright reasoning mind, her steadiness of purpose, her piety and +benevolence, placed in a strong light. The unshrinking dignity with +which she opposes without descending to brave the Cardinal, the stern +rebuke addressed to the Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, are finely +characteristic; and by thus exhibiting Katherine as invested with all +her conjugal rights and influence, and royal state, the subsequent +situations are rendered more impressive. She is placed in the first +instance on such a height in our esteem and reverence, that in the midst +of her abandonment and degradation, and the profound pity she afterwards +inspires, the first effect remains unimpaired, and she never falls +beneath it. + +In the beginning of the second act we are prepared for the proceedings +of the divorce, and our respect for Katherine heightened by the general +sympathy for "the good queen," as she is expressively entitled, and by +the following beautiful eulogium on her character uttered by the Duke of +Norfolk:-- + + + He (Wolsey) counsels a divorce--a loss of her + That like a jewel hath hung twenty years + About his neck, yet never lost her lustre. + Of her that loves him with that excellence + That angels love good men with; even of her, + That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, + Will bless the King! + +The scene in which Anna Bullen is introduced as expressing her grief and +sympathy for her royal mistress, is exquisitely graceful. + + Here's the pang that pinches; + His highness having liv'd so long with her, and she + So good a lady, that no tongue could ever + Pronounce dishonor of her,--by my life + She never knew harm-doing. O now, after + So many courses of the sun enthron'd, + Still growing in a majesty and pomp,--the which + To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than + 'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, + To give her the avaunt! it is a pity + Would move a monster. + + OLD LADY. + + Hearts of most hard temper + Melt and lament for her. + + ANNE. + + O, God's will! much better + She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal, + Yet if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce + It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging + As soul and body's severing. + + OLD LADY. + + Alas, poor lady! + She's a stranger now again. + + ANNE. + + So much the more + Must pity drop upon her. Verily, + I swear 'tis better to be lowly born, + And range with humble livers in content, + Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, + And wear a golden sorrow. + +How completely, in the few passages appropriated to Anna Bullen, is her +character portrayed! with what a delicate and yet luxuriant grace is she +sketched off, with her gayety and her beauty, her levity, her extreme +mobility, her sweetness of disposition, her tenderness of heart, and, in +short, all her _femalities_! How nobly has Shakspeare done justice to +the two women, and heightened our interest in both, by placing the +praises of Katherine in the mouth of Anna Bullen! and how characteristic +of the latter, that she should first express unbounded pity for her +mistress, insisting chiefly on her fall from her regal state and worldly +pomp, thus betraying her own disposition:-- + + For she that had all the fair parts of woman, + Had, too, a woman's heart, which ever yet + Affected eminence, wealth, and sovereignty. + +That she should call the loss of temporal pomp, once enjoyed, "a +sufferance equal to soul and body's severing;" that she should +immediately protest that she would not herself be a queen--"No, good +troth! not for all the riches under heaven!"--and not long afterwards +ascend without reluctance that throne and bed from which her royal +mistress had been so cruelly divorced!--how natural! The portrait is not +less true and masterly than that of Katherine; but the character is +overborne by the superior moral firmness and intrinsic excellence of the +latter. That we may be more fully sensible of this contrast, the +beautiful scene just alluded to immediately precedes Katherine's trial +at Blackfriars, and the description of Anna Bullen's triumphant beauty +at her coronation, is placed immediately before the dying scene of +Katherine; yet with equal good taste and good feeling Shakspeare has +constantly avoided all personal collision between the two characters; +nor does Anna Bullen ever appear as queen except in the pageant of the +procession, which in reading the play is scarcely noticed. + +To return to Katherine. The whole of the trial scene is given nearly +verbatim from the old chronicles and records; but the dryness and +harshness of the law proceedings is tempered at once and elevated by the +genius and the wisdom of the poet. It appears, on referring to the +historical authorities, that when the affair was first agitated in +council, Katherine replied to the long expositions and theological +sophistries of her opponents with resolute simplicity and composure: "I +am a woman, and lack wit and learning to answer these opinions; but I am +sure that neither the king's father nor my father would have +condescended to our marriage, if it had been judged unlawful. As to your +saying that I should put the cause to eight persons of this realm, for +quietness of the king's conscience, I pray Heaven to send his Grace a +quiet conscience and this shall be your answer, that I say I am his +lawful wife, and to him lawfully married, though not worthy of it; and +in this point I will abide, till the court of Rome, which was privy to +the beginning, have made a final ending of it."[101] + +Katherine's appearance in the court at Blackfriars, attended by a noble +troop of ladies and prelates of her counsel, and her refusal to answer +the citation, are historical.[102] Her speech to the king-- + + Sir, I beseech you do me right and justice, + And to bestow your pity on me, &c. &c. + +is taken word for word (as nearly as the change from prose to blank +verse would allow) from the old record in Hall. It would have been easy +for Shakspeare to have exalted his own skill, by throwing a coloring of +poetry and eloquence into this speech, without altering the sense or +sentiment; but by adhering to the calm argumentative simplicity of +manner and diction natural to the woman, he has preserved the truth of +character without lessening the pathos of the situation. Her challenging +Wolsey as a "foe to truth," and her very expressions, "I utterly +refuse,--yea, from my soul _abhor_ you for my judge," are taken from +fact. The sudden burst of indignant passion towards the close of this +scene, + + In one who ever yet + Had stood to charity, and displayed the effects + Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom + O'ertopping woman's power; + +is taken from nature, though it occurred on a different occasion.[103] + +Lastly, the circumstance of her being called back after she had appealed +from the court, and angrily refusing to return, is from the life. Master +Griffith, on whose arm she leaned, observed that she was called: "On, +on," quoth she; "it maketh no matter, for it is no indifferent court for +me, therefore I will not tarry. Go on your ways."[104] + +King Henry's own assertion, "I dare to say, my lords, that for her +womanhood, wisdom, nobility, and gentleness, never prince had such +another wife, and therefore if I would willingly change her I were not +wise," is thus beautifully paraphrased by Shakspeare:-- + + That man i' the world, who shall report he has + A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, + For speaking false in that! Thou art, alone, + If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, + (Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, + Obeying in commanding; and thy parts, + Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,) + The queen of earthly queens. She is noble born, + And, like her true nobility, she has + Carried herself towards me. + +The annotators on Shakspeare have all observed the close resemblance +between this fine passage-- + + Sir, + I am about to weep; but, thinking that + We are a queen, or long have dreamed so, certain + The daughter of a king--my drops of tears + I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +and the speech of Hermione-- + + I am not prone to weeping as our sex + Commonly are, the want of which vain dew + Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have + That honorable grief lodged here, which burns + Worse than tears drown. + +But these verbal gentlemen do not seem to have felt that the resemblance +is merely on the surface, and that the two passages could not possibly +change places, without a manifest violation of the truth of character. +In Hermione it is pride of sex merely: in Katherine it is pride of place +and pride of birth. Hermione, though so superbly majestic, is perfectly +independent of her regal state: Katherine, though so meekly pious, will +neither forget hers, nor allow it to be forgotten by others for a +moment. Hermione, when deprived of that "crown and comfort of her +life," her husband's love, regards all things else with despair and +indifference except her feminine honor: Katherine, divorced and +abandoned, still with true Spanish pride stands upon respect, and will +not bate one atom of her accustomed state + + Though unqueened, yet like a queen + And daughter to a king, inter me! + +The passage-- + + A fellow of the royal bed, that owns + A moiety of the throne--a great king's daughter, + ... here standing + To prate and talk for life and honor 'fore + Who please to come to hear,[105] + +would apply nearly to both queens, yet a single sentiment--nay, a single +sentence--could not possibly be transferred from one character to the +other. The magnanimity, the noble simplicity, the purity of heart, the +resignation in each--how perfectly equal in degree! how diametrically +opposite in kind![106] + +Once more to return to Katherine. + +We are told by Cavendish, that when Wolsey and Campeggio visited the +queen by the king's order she was found at work among her women, and +came forth to meet the cardinals with a skein of white thread hanging +about her neck; that when Wolsey addressed her in Latin, she interrupted +him, saying, "Nay, good my lord, speak to me in English, I beseech you; +although I understand Latin." "Forsooth then," quoth my lord, "madam, if +it please your grace, we come both to know your mind, how ye be disposed +to do in this matter between the king and you, and also to declare +secretly our opinions and our counsel unto you, which we have intended +of very zeal and obedience that we bear to your grace." "My lords, I +thank you then," quoth she, "of your good wills; but to make answer to +your request I cannot so suddenly, for I was set among my maidens at +work, thinking full little of any such matter; wherein there needeth a +longer deliberation, and a better head than mine to make answer to so +noble wise men as ye be. I had need of good counsel in this case, which +toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friendship that I can find +in England, they are nothing to my purpose or profit. Think you, I pray +you, my lords, will any Englishmen counsel, or be friendly unto me, +against the king's pleasure, they being his subjects? Nay, forsooth, my +lords! and for my counsel, in whom I do intend to put my trust, they be +not here; they be in Spain, in my native country.[107] Alas! my lords, I +am a poor woman lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently to +answer such approved wise men as ye be both, in so weighty a matter. I +pray you to extend your good and indifferent minds in your authority +unto me, for I am a simple woman, destitute and barren of friendship and +counsel, here in a foreign region; and as for your counsel, I will not +refuse, but be glad to hear." + +It appears, also, that when the Archbishop of York and Bishop Tunstall +waited on her at her house near Huntingdon, with the sentence of the +divorce, signed by Henry, and confirmed by act of parliament, she +refused to admit its validity, she being Henry's wife, and not his +subject. The bishop describes her conduct in his letter: "She being +therewith in great choler and agony, and always interrupting our words, +declared that she would never leave the name of queen, but would persist +in accounting herself the king's wife till death." When the official +letter containing minutes of their conference was shown to her, she +seized a pen, and dashed it angrily across every sentence in which she +was styled _Princess-dowager_. + +If now we turn to that inimitable scene between Katherine and the two +cardinals, (act iii. scene 1,) we shall observe how finely Shakspeare +has condensed these incidents, and unfolded to us all the workings of +Katherine's proud yet feminine nature. She is discovered at work with +some of her women--she calls for music "to soothe her soul grown sad +with troubles"--then follows the little song, of which the sentiment is +so well adapted to the occasion, while its quaint yet classic elegance +breathes the very spirit of those times, when Surrey loved and sung. + + SONG. + + Orpheus with his lute-made trees, + And the mountain-tops that freeze, + Bow themselves when he did sing + To his music, plants and flowers + Ever sprung, as sun and showers + There had made a lasting spring. + + Every thing that heard him play, + Even the billows of the sea, + Hung their heads and then lay by + In sweet music is such art, + Killing care, and grief of heart, + Fall asleep, on hearing, die. + +They are interrupted by the arrival of the two cardinals. Katherine's +perception of their subtlety--her suspicion of their purpose--her sense +of her own weakness and inability to contend with them, and her mild +subdued dignity, are beautifully represented; as also the guarded +self-command with which she eludes giving a definitive answer; but when +they counsel her to that which she, who knows Henry, feels must end in +her ruin, then the native temper is roused at once, or, to use +Tunstall's expression, "the choler and the agony," burst forth in words. + + Is this your christian counsel? Out upon ye! + Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge + That no king can corrupt. + + WOLSEY. + + Your rage mistakes us. + + QUEEN KATHERINE. + + The more shame for ye! Holy men I thought ye, + Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; + But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye: + Mend them, for shame, my lords: is this your comfort + The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady? + +With the same force of language, and impetuous yet dignified feeling, +she asserts her own conjugal truth and merit, and insists upon her +rights. + + Have I liv'd thus long, (let me speak myself, + Since virtue finds no friends,) a wife, a true one + A woman, (I dare say, without vain-glory,) + Never yet branded with suspicion? + Have I, with all my full affections, + Still met the king--lov'd him next heaven, obey'd him + Been out of fondness superstitious to him-- + Almost forgot my prayers to content him, + And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords, &c. + + My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, + To give up willingly that noble title + Your master wed me to: nothing but death + Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +And this burst of unwonted passion is immediately followed by the +natural reaction; it subsides into tears, dejection, and a mournful +self-compassion. + + Would I had never trod this English ground, + Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it. + What will become of me now, wretched lady? + I am the most unhappy woman living. + Alas! poor wenches! where are now your fortunes? + [_To her women_ + Shipwrecked upon a kingdom, where no pity, + No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for me! + Almost no grave allowed me! Like the lily that once + Was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, + I'll hang my head and perish. + +Dr. Johnson observes on this scene, that all Katherine's distresses +could not save her from a quibble on the word _cardinal_. + + Holy men I thought ye, + Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; + But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye! + +When we read this passage in connection with the situation and +sentiment, the scornful play upon the words is not only appropriate and +natural, it seems inevitable. Katherine, assuredly, is neither an +imaginative nor a witty personage; but we all acknowledge the truism, +that anger inspires wit, and whenever there is passion there is poetry. +In the instance just alluded to, the sarcasm springs naturally out from +the bitter indignation of the moment. In her grand rebuke of Wolsey, in +the trial scene, how just and beautiful is the gradual elevation of her +language, till it rises into that magnificent image-- + + You have by fortune and his highness' favors, + Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted, + Where powers are your retainers, &c. + +In the depth of her affliction, the pathos as naturally clothes itself +in poetry. + + Like the lily, + That was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, + I'll hang my head and perish. + +But these, I believe, are the only instances of imagery throughout; for, +in general, her language is plain and energetic. It has the strength and +simplicity of her character, with very little metaphor and less wit. + +In approaching the last scene of Katherine's life, I feel as if about to +tread within a sanctuary, where nothing befits us but silence and tears; +veneration so strives with compassion, tenderness with awe.[108] + +We must suppose a long interval to have elapsed since Katherine's +interview with the two cardinals. Wolsey was disgraced, and poor Anna +Bullen at the height of her short-lived prosperity. It was Wolsey's fate +to be detested by both queens. In the pursuance of his own selfish and +ambitious designs, he had treated both with perfidy; and one was the +remote, the other the immediate, cause of his ruin.[109] + +The ruffian king, of whom one hates to think, was bent on forcing +Katherine to concede her rights, and illegitimize her daughter, in favor +of the offspring of Anna Bullen: she steadily refused, was declared +contumacious, and the sentence of divorce pronounced in 1533. Such of +her attendants as persisted in paying her the honors due to a queen were +driven from her household; those who consented to serve her as +princess-dowager, she refused to admit into her presence; so that she +remained unattended, except by a few women, and her gentleman usher, +Griffith. During the last eighteen months of her life, she resided at +Kimbolton. Her nephew, Charles V., had offered her an asylum and +princely treatment; but Katherine, broken in heart, and declining in +health, was unwilling to drag the spectacle of her misery and +degradation into a strange country: she pined in her loneliness, +deprived of her daughter, receiving no consolation from the pope, and no +redress from the emperor. Wounded pride, wronged affection, and a +cankering jealousy of the woman preferred to her, (which though it never +broke out into unseemly words, is enumerated as one of the causes of her +death,) at length wore out a feeble frame. "Thus," says the chronicle, +"Queen Katherine fell into her last sickness; and though the king sent +to comfort her through Chapuys, the emperor's ambassador, she grew worse +and worse; and finding death now coming, she caused a maid attending on +her to write to the king to this effect:-- + +"My most dear Lord, King, and Husband; + +"The hour of my death now approaching, I cannot choose but, out of the +love I bear you, advise you of your soul's health, which you ought to +prefer before all considerations of the world or flesh whatsoever; for +which yet you have cast me into many calamities, and yourself into many +troubles: but I forgive you all, and pray God to do so likewise; for the +rest, I commend unto you Mary our daughter, beseeching you to be a good +father to her, as I have heretofore desired. I must intreat you also to +respect my maids, and give them in marriage, which is not much, they +being but three, and all my other servants a year's pay besides their +due, lest otherwise they be unprovided for: lastly, I make this vow, +that mine eyes desire you above all things.--Farewell!"[110] + +She also wrote another letter to the ambassador, desiring that he would +remind the king of her dying request, and urge him to do her this last +right. + +What the historian relates, Shakspeare realizes. On the wonderful beauty +of Katherine's closing scene we need not dwell; for that requires no +illustration. In transferring the sentiments of her letter to her lips, +Shakspeare has given them added grace, and pathos, and tenderness, +without injuring their truth and simplicity: the feelings, and almost +the manner of expression, are Katherine's own. The severe justice with +which she draws the character of Wolsey is extremely characteristic! the +benign candor with which she listens to the praise of him "whom living +she most hated," is not less so. How beautiful her religious +enthusiasm!--the slumber which visits her pillow, as she listens to that +sad music she called her knell; her awakening from the vision of +celestial joy to find herself still on earth-- + + Spirits of peace! where are ye? are ye gone, + And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? + +how unspeakably beautiful! And to consummate all in one final touch of +truth and nature, we see that consciousness of her own worth and +integrity which had sustained her through all her trials of heart, and +that pride of station for which she had contended through long +years,--which had become more dear by opposition, and by the +perseverance with which she had asserted it,--remaining the last strong +feeling upon her mind, to the very last hour of existence. + + When I am dead, good wench, + Let me be used with honor: strew me over + With maiden flowers, that all the world may know + I was a chaste wife to my grave; embalm me, + Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like + A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me + I can no more.-- + +In the epilogue to this play,[111] it is recommended-- + + To the merciful construction of good women, + For _such a one_ we show'd them: + +alluding to the character of Queen Katherine. Shakspeare has, in fact, +placed before us a queen and a heroine, who in the first place, and +above all, is a _good_ woman; and I repeat, that in doing so, and in +trusting for all his effect to truth and virtue, he has given a sublime +proof of his genius and his wisdom;--for which, among many other +obligations, we women remain his debtors. + + +LADY MACBETH. + +I doubt whether the epithet _historical_ can properly apply to the +character of Lady Macbeth; for though the subject of the play be taken +from history, we never think of her with any reference to historical +associations, as we do with regard to Constance, Volumnia, Katherine of +Arragon, and others. I remember reading some critique, in which Lady +Macbeth was styled the "_Scottish queen_;" and methought the title, as +applied to _her_ sounded like a vulgarism. It appears that the real wife +of Macbeth,--she who lives only in the obscure record of an obscure +age, bore the very unmusical appellation of Graoch, and was instigated +to the murder of Duncan, not only by ambition, but by motives of +vengeance. She was the grand-daughter of Kenneth the Fourth, killed in +1003, fighting against Malcolm the Second, the Father of Duncan. Macbeth +reigned over Scotland from the year 1039 to 1056--but what is all this +to the purpose? The sternly magnificent creation of the poet stands +before us independent of all these aids of fancy: she is Lady Macbeth; +as such she lives, she reigns, and is immortal in the world to +imagination. What earthly title could add to her grandeur? what human +record or attestation strengthen our impression of her reality? + +Characters in history move before us like a procession of figures in +_basso relievo_: we see one side only, that which the artist chose to +exhibit to us; the rest is sunk in the block: the same characters in +Shakspeare are like the statues _cut out_ of the block, fashioned, +finished, tangible in every part: we may consider them under every +aspect, we may examine them on every side. As the classical times, when +the garb did not make the man, were peculiarly favorable to the +development and delineation of the human form, and have handed down to +us the purest models of strength and grace--so the times in which +Shakspeare lived were favorable to the vigorous delineation of natural +character. Society was not then one vast conventional masquerade of +manners. In his revelations, the accidental circumstances are to the +individual character, what the drapery of the antique statue is to the +statue itself; it is evident, that, though adapted to each other, and +studied relatively, they were also studied separately. We trace through +the folds the fine and true proportions of the figure beneath: they seem +and are independent of each other to the practised eye, though carved +together from the same enduring substance; at once perfectly distinct +and eternally inseparable. In history we can but study character in +relation to events, to situation and circumstances, which disguise and +encumber it: we are left to imagine, to infer, what certain people must +have been, from the manner in which they have acted or suffered. +Shakspeare and nature bring us back to the true order of things; and +showing us what the human being _is_, enable us to judge of the possible +as well as the positive result in acting and suffering. Here, instead of +judging the individual by his actions, we are enabled to judge of +actions by a reference to the individual. When we can carry this power +into the experience of real life, we shall perhaps be more just to one +another, and not consider ourselves aggrieved, because we cannot gather +figs from thistles and grapes from thorns. + +In the play or poem of Macbeth, the interest of the story is so +engrossing, the events so rapid and so appalling, the accessories so +sublimely conceived and so skilfully combined, that it is difficult to +detach Lady Macbeth from the dramatic situation, or consider her apart +from the terrible associations of our first and earliest impressions. As +the vulgar idea of a Juliet--that all-beautiful and heaven-gifted child +of the south--is merely a love-sick girl in white satin, so the +common-place idea of Lady Macbeth, though endowed with the rarest +powers, the loftiest energies, and the profoundest affections, is +nothing but a fierce, cruel woman, brandishing a couple of daggers, and +inciting her husband to butcher a poor old king. + +Even those who reflect more deeply are apt to consider rather the mode +in which a certain character is manifested, than the combination of +abstract qualities making up that individual human being; so what should +be last, is first; effects are mistaken for causes, qualities are +confounded with their results, and the perversion of what is essentially +good, with the operation of positive evil. Hence it is, that those who +can feel and estimate the magnificent conception and poetical +development of the character, have overlooked the grand moral lesson it +conveys; they forget that the crime of Lady Macbeth terrifies us in +proportion as we sympathize with her; and that this sympathy is in +proportion to the degree of pride, passion, and intellect, we may +ourselves possess. It is good to behold and to tremble at the possible +result of the noblest faculties uncontrolled or perverted. True it is, +that the ambitious women of these civilized times do not murder sleeping +kings: but are there, therefore, no Lady Macbeths in the world? no women +who, under the influence of a diseased or excited appetite for power or +distinction, would sacrifice the happiness of a daughter, the fortunes +of a husband, the principles of a son, and peril their own souls? + + * * * * * + +The character of Macbeth is considered as one of the most complex in the +whole range of Shakspeare's dramatic creations. He is represented in the +course of the action under such a variety of aspects; the good and evil +qualities of his mind are so poised and blended, and instead of being +gradually and successively developed, evolve themselves so like shifting +lights and shadows playing over the "unstable waters," that his +character has afforded a continual and interesting subject of analysis +and contemplation. None of Shakspeare's personages have been treated of +more at large; none have been more minutely criticized and profoundly +examined. A single feature in his character--the question, for instance, +as to whether his courage be personal or constitutional, or excited by +mere desperation--has been canvassed, asserted, and refuted, in two +masterly essays. + +On the other hand, the character of Lady Macbeth resolves itself into +few and simple elements. The grand features of her character are so +distinctly and prominently marked, that, though acknowledged to be one +of the poet's most sublime creations, she has been passed over with +comparatively few words: generally speaking, the commentators seem to +have considered Lady Macbeth rather with reference to her husband, and +as influencing the action of the drama, than as an individual conception +of amazing power, poetry, and beauty: or if they do individualize her, +it is ever with those associations of scenic representation which Mrs. +Siddons has identified with the character. Those who have been +accustomed to see it arrayed in the form and lineaments of that +magnificent woman, and developed with her wonder-working powers, seem +satisfied to leave it there, as if nothing more could be said or +added.[112] + +But the generation which beheld Mrs. Siddons in her glory is passing +away, and we are again left to our own unassisted feelings, or to all +the satisfaction to be derived from the sagacity of critics and the +reflections of commentators. Let us turn to them for a moment. + +Dr. Johnson, who seems to have regarded her as nothing better than a +kind of ogress, tells us, in so many words, that "Lady Macbeth is merely +detested." Schlegel dismisses her in haste, as a species of female fury. +In the two essays on Macbeth already mentioned, she is passed over with +one or two slight allusions. The only justice that has yet been done to +her is by Hazlitt, in the "Characters of Shakspeare's Plays." Nothing +can be finer than his remarks as far as they go, but his plan did not +allow him sufficient space to work out his own conception of the +character, with the minuteness it requires. All that he says is just in +sentiment, and most eloquent in the expression; but in leaving some of +the finest points altogether untouched, he has also left us in doubt +whether he even felt or perceived them; and this masterly criticism +stops short of the _whole_ truth--it is a little superficial, and a +little too harsh. + +In the mind of Lady Macbeth, ambition is represented as the ruling +motive, an intense over-mastering passion, which is gratified at the +expense of every just and generous principle, and every feminine +feeling. In the pursuit of her object, she is cruel, treacherous, and +daring. She is doubly, trebly dyed in guilt and blood; for the murder +she instigates is rendered more frightful by disloyalty and ingratitude, +and by the violation of all the most sacred claims of kindred and +hospitality. When her husband's more kindly nature shrinks from the +perpetration of the deed of horror, she, like an evil genius, whispers +him on to his damnation. The full measure of her wickedness is never +disguised, the magnitude and atrocity of her crime is never extenuated, +forgotten, or forgiven, in the whole course of the play. Our judgment is +not bewildered, nor our moral feeling insulted, by the sentimental +jumble of great crimes and dazzling virtues, after the fashion of the +German school and of some admirable writers of our own time. Lady +Macbeth's amazing power of intellect, her inexorable determination of +purpose, her superhuman strength of nerve, render her as fearful in +herself as her deeds are hateful; yet she is not a mere monster of +depravity, with whom we have nothing in common, nor a meteor whose +destroying path we watch in ignorant affright and amaze. She is a +terrible impersonation of evil passions and mighty powers, never so far +removed from our own nature as to be cast beyond the pale of our +sympathies; for the woman herself remains a woman to the last--still +linked with her sex and with humanity. + +This impression is produced partly by the essential truth in the +conception of the character, and partly by the manner in which it is +evolved; by a combination of minute and delicate touches, in some +instances by speech, in others by silence: at one time by what is +revealed, at another by what we are left to infer. As in real life, we +perceive distinctions in character we cannot always explain, and receive +impressions for which we cannot always account, without going back to +the beginning of an acquaintance, and recalling many and trifling +circumstances--looks, and tones, and words: thus, to explain that hold +which Lady Macbeth, in the midst of all her atrocities, still keeps upon +our feelings, it is necessary to trace minutely the action of the play, +as far as she is concerned in it, from its very commencement to its +close. + +We must bear in mind, that the first idea of murdering Duncan is not +suggested by Lady Macbeth to her husband: it springs within _his_ mind, +and is revealed to us, before his first interview with his wife,--before +she is introduced or even alluded to. + + MACBETH. + + This supernatural soliciting + Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill, + Why hath it given me earnest of success, + Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor-- + If good, why do I yield to that suggestion, + Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, + And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, + Against the use of nature? + +It will be said, that the same "horrid suggestion" presents itself +spontaneously to her, on the reception of his letter; or rather, that +the letter itself acts upon her mind as the prophecy of the Weird +Sisters on the mind of her husband, kindling the latent passion for +empire into a quenchless flame. We are prepared to see the train of +evil, first lighted by hellish agency, extend itself to _her_ through +the medium of her husband; but we are spared the more revolting idea +that it originated with her. The guilt is thus more equally divided than +we should suppose, when we hear people pitying "the noble nature of +Macbeth," bewildered and goaded on to crime, solely or chiefly by the +instigation of his wife. + +It is true that she afterwards appears the more active agent of the two; +but it is less through her preeminence in wickedness than through her +superiority of intellect. The eloquence--the fierce, fervid eloquence +with which she bears down the relenting and reluctant spirit of her +husband, the dexterous sophistry with which she wards off his +objections, her artful and affected doubts of his courage--the sarcastic +manner in which she lets fall the word coward--a word which no man can +endure from another, still less from a woman, and least of all from a +woman he loves--and the bold address with which she removes all +obstacles, silences all arguments, overpowers all scruples, and marshals +the way before him, absolutely make us shrink before the commanding +intellect of the woman, with a terror in which interest and admiration +are strangely mingled. + + LADY MACBETH. + + He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + + MACBETH. + + Hath he ask'd for me? + + LADY MACBETH. + + Know you not, he has? + + MACBETH. + + We will proceed no farther in this business; + He hath honored me of late, and I have bought + Golden opinions from all sorts of people, + Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, + Not cast aside so soon. + + LADY MACBETH. + + Was the hope drunk, + Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since, + And wakes it now, to look so green and pale + At what it did so freely? From this time, + Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard + To be the same in thine own act and valor, + As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that + Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, + And live a coward in thine own esteem; + Letting I dare not wait upon I would, + Like the poor cat i' the adage? + + MACBETH. + + Pr'ythee, peace + I dare do all that may become a man; + Who dares do more, is none. + + LADY MACBETH. + + What beast was it then, + That made you break this enterprise to me? + When you durst do it, then you were a man; + And, to be more than what you were, you would + Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place, + Did then adhere, and yet you would make both; + They have made themselves, and that their fitness now + Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know + How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: + I would, while it were smiling in my face, + Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, + And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you + Have done to this. + + MACBETH. + + If we should fail.-- + + LADY MACBETH. + + We fail.[113] + But screw your courage to the sticking-place, + And we'll not fail. + +Again, in the murdering scene, the obdurate inflexibility of purpose +with which she drives on Macbeth to the execution of their project, and +her masculine indifference to blood and death, would inspire unmitigated +disgust and horror, but for the involuntary consciousness that it is +produced rather by the exertion of a strong power over herself, than by +absolute depravity of disposition and ferocity of temper. This +impression of her character is brought home at once to our very hearts +with the most profound knowledge of the springs of nature within us, the +most subtle mastery over their various operations, and a feeling of +dramatic effect not less wonderful. The very passages in which Lady +Macbeth displays the most savage and relentless determination, are so +worded as to fill the mind with the idea of sex, and place the _woman_ +before us in all her dearest attributes, at once softening and refining +the horror, and rendering it more intense. Thus, when she reproaches her +husband for his weakness-- + + From this time, + Such I account thy love! + +Again, + + + Come to my woman's breasts, + And take my milk for gall, ye murdering ministers, + That no compunctions visitings of nature + Shake my fell purpose, &c. + + I have given suck, and know how tender 'tis + To love the babe that milks me, &c. + +And lastly, in the moment of extremest horror comes that unexpected +touch of feeling, so startling, yet so wonderfully true to nature-- + + Had he not resembled my father as he slept, + I had done it! + +Thus in one of Weber's or Beethoven's grand symphonies, some unexpected +soft minor chord or passage will steal on the ear, heard amid the +magnificent crash of harmony, making the blood pause, and filling the +eye with unbidden tears. + +It is particularly observable, that in Lady Macbeth's concentrated, +strong-nerved ambition, the ruling passion of her mind, there is yet a +touch of womanhood: she is ambitious less for herself than for her +husband. It is fair to think this, because we have no reason to draw +any other inference either from her words or actions. In her famous +soliloquy, after reading her husband's letter, she does not once refer +to herself. It is of him she thinks: she wishes to see her husband on +the throne, and to place the sceptre within _his_ grasp. The strength of +her affections adds strength to her ambition. Although in the old story +of Boethius we are told that the wife of Macbeth "burned with +unquenchable desire to bear the name of queen," yet in the aspect under +which Shakspeare has represented the character to us, the selfish part +of this ambition is kept out of sight. We must remark also, that in Lady +Macbeth's reflections on her husband's character, and on that milkiness +of nature, which she fears "may impede him from the golden round," there +is no indication of female scorn: there is exceeding pride, but no +egotism in the sentiment or the expression;--no want of wifely and +womanly respect and love for _him_, but on the contrary, a sort of +unconsciousness of her own mental superiority, which she betrays rather +than asserts, as interesting in itself as it is most admirably conceived +and delineated. + + Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be + What thou art promised:--Yet do I fear thy nature; + It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, + To catch the nearest way. Thou would'st be great, + Art not without ambition; but without + The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly + That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false. + And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, + That which cries, _Thus thou must do, if thou have it; + And that which rather thou dost fear to do, + Than wishest should be undone_. Hie thee hither, + That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; + And chastise with the valor of my tongue + All that impedes thee from the golden round, + Which fate and metaphysical[114] aid doth seem + To have thee crowned withal + +Nor is there any thing vulgar in her ambition: as the strength of her +affections lends to it something profound and concentrated, so her +splendid imagination invests the object of her desire with its own +radiance. We cannot trace in her grand and capacious mind that it is the +mere baubles and trappings of royalty which dazzle and allure her: hers +is the sin of the "star-bright apostate," and she plunges with her +husband into the abyss of guilt, to procure for "all their days and +nights sole sovereign sway and masterdom." She revels, she luxuriates in +her dream of power. She reaches at the golden diadem, which is to sear +her brain; she perils life and soul for its attainment, with an +enthusiasm as perfect, a faith as settled, as that of the martyr, who +sees at the stake, heaven and its crowns of glory opening upon him. + + Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! + Greater than both, by the all-hail _hereafter_! + Thy letters have transported me beyond + This ignorant present, and I feel now + The future in the instant! + +This is surely the very rapture of ambition! and those who have heard +Mrs. Siddons pronounce the word _hereafter_, cannot forget the look, the +tone, which seemed to give her auditors a glimpse of that awful +_future_, which she, in her prophetic fury, beholds upon the instant. + +But to return to the text before us: Lady Macbeth having proposed the +object to herself, and arrayed it with an ideal glory, fixes her eye +steadily upon it, soars far above all womanish feelings and scruples to +attain it, and stoops upon her victim with the strength and velocity of +a vulture; but having committed unflinchingly the crime necessary for +the attainment of her purpose, she stops there. After the murder of +Duncan, we see Lady Macbeth, during the rest of the play, occupied in +supporting the nervous weakness and sustaining the fortitude of her +husband; for instance, Macbeth is at one time on the verge of frenzy, +between fear and horror, and it is clear that if she loses her +self-command, both must perish:-- + + MACBETH. + + One cried, _God bless us!_ and, _Amen!_ the other, + As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. + Listening their fear, I could not say, _Amen!_ + When they did say, _God bless us!_ + + LADY MACBETH. + + Consider it not so deeply! + + MACBETH. + + But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen? + I had most need of blessing, and amen + Stuck in my throat. + + LADY MACBETH. + + These deeds must not be thought + After these ways: so, it will make us mad. + + MACBETH. + + Methought I heard a voice cry, + "Sleep no more," &c. &c. + + LADY MACBETH. + + What do you mean? who was it that thus cried? + Why, worthy Thane, + You do unbend your noble strength, to think + So brainsickly of things.--Go, get some water, &c. &c. + +Afterwards, in act iii., she is represented as muttering to herself, + + Nought's had, all's spent, + When our desire is got without content; + + +yet immediately addresses her moody and conscience-stricken husband-- + + How now, my lord? why do you keep alone, + Of sorriest fancies your companions making? + Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died + With them they think on? Things without remedy, + Should be without regard; what's done, is done. + +But she is nowhere represented as urging him on to new crimes, so far +from it, that when Macbeth darkly hints his purposed assassination of +Banquo, and she inquires his meaning, he replies, + + Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, + Till thou approve the deed. + +The same may be said of the destruction of Macduff's family. Every one +must perceive how our detestation of the woman had been increased, if +she had been placed before us as suggesting and abetting those +additional cruelties into which Macbeth is hurried by his mental +cowardice. + +If my feeling of Lady Macbeth's character be just to the conception of +the poet, then she is one who could steel herself to the commission of a +crime from necessity and expediency, and be daringly wicked for a great +end, but not likely to perpetrate gratuitous murders from any vague or +selfish fears. I do not mean to say that the perfect confidence existing +between herself and Macbeth could possibly leave her in ignorance of his +actions or designs: that heart-broken and shuddering allusion to the +murder of Lady Macduff (in the sleeping scene) proves the contrary:-- + + The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? + +But she is nowhere brought before us in immediate connection with these +horrors, and we are spared any flagrant proof of her participation in +them. This may not strike us at first, but most undoubtedly has an +effect on the general bearing of the character, considered as a whole. + +Another more obvious and pervading source of interest arises from that +bond of entire affection and confidence which, through the whole of this +dreadful tissue of crime and its consequences, unites Macbeth and his +wife; claiming from us an involuntary respect and sympathy, and shedding +a softening influence over the whole tragedy. Macbeth leans upon her +strength, trusts in her fidelity, and throws himself on her tenderness. + + O full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! + +She sustains him, calms him, soothes him-- + + Come on; + Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; + Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night. + +The endearing epithets, the terms of fondness in which he addresses her, +and the tone of respect she invariably maintains towards him, even when +most exasperated by his vacillation of mind and his brain-sick terrors, +have, by the very force of contrast, a powerful effect on the fancy. + +By these tender redeeming touches we are impressed with a feeling that +Lady Macbeth's influence over the affections of her husband, as a wife +and a woman, is at least equal to her power over him as a superior mind. +Another thing has always struck me. During the supper scene, in which +Macbeth is haunted by the spectre of the murdered Banquo, and his reason +appears unsettled by the extremity of his horror and dismay, her +indignant rebuke, her low whispered remonstrance, the sarcastic +emphasis with which she combats his sick fancies, and endeavors to +recall him to himself, have an intenseness, a severity, a bitterness, +which makes the blood creep. + + LADY MACBETH. + + Are you a man? + + MACBETH. + + Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that + Which might appall the devil. + + LADY MACBETH. + + O proper stuff! + This is the very painting of your fear: + This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said, + Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts + (Impostors to true fear) would well become + A woman's story, at a winter's fire, + Authoriz'd by her grandam! Shame itself! + Why do you make such faces? When all's done + You look but on a stool. + What! quite unmann'd in folly? + +Yet when the guests are dismissed, and they are left alone, she says no +more, and not a syllable of reproach or scorn escapes her: a few words +in submissive reply to his questions, and an entreaty to seek repose, +are all she permits herself to utter. There is a touch of pathos and of +tenderness in this silence which has always affected me beyond +expression: it is one of the most masterly and most beautiful traits of +character in the whole play. + +Lastly, it is clear that in a mind constituted like that of Lady +Macbeth, and not utterly depraved and hardened by the habit of crime, +conscience must wake some time or other, and bring with it remorse +closed by despair, and despair by death. This great moral retribution +was to be displayed to us--but how? Lady Macbeth is not a woman to start +at shadows; she mocks at air-drawn daggers; she sees no imagined +spectres rise from the tomb to appall or accuse her.[115] The towering +bravery of _her_ mind disdains the visionary terrors which haunt her +weaker husband. We know, or rather we feel, that she who could give a +voice to the most direful intent, and call on the spirits that wait on +mortal thoughts to "unsex her," and "stop up all access and passage of +remorse"--to that remorse would have given nor tongue nor sound; and +that rather than have uttered a complaint, she would have held her +breath and died. To have given her a confidant, though in the partner of +her guilt, would have been a degrading resource, and have disappointed +and enfeebled all our previous impressions of her character; yet justice +is to be done, and we are to be made acquainted with that which the +woman herself would have suffered a thousand deaths of torture rather +than have betrayed. In the sleeping scene we have a glimpse into the +depths of that inward hell: the seared brain and broken heart are laid +bare before us in the helplessness of slumber. By a judgment the most +sublime ever imagined, yet the most unforced, natural, and inevitable, +the sleep of her who murdered sleep is no longer repose, but a +condensation of resistless horrors which the prostrate intellect and +powerless will can neither baffle nor repel. We shudder and are +satisfied; yet our human sympathies are again touched: we rather sigh +over the ruin than exult in it; and after watching her through this +wonderful scene with a sort of fascination, we dismiss the unconscious, +helpless, despair-stricken murderess, with a feeling which Lady Macbeth, +in her waking strength, with all her awe-commanding powers about her, +could never have excited. + +It is here especially we perceive that sweetness of nature which in +Shakspeare went hand in hand with his astonishing powers. He never +confounds that line of demarcation which eternally separates good from +evil, yet he never places evil before us without exciting in some way a +consciousness of the opposite good which shall balance and relieve it. + +I do deny that he has represented in Lady Macbeth a woman "_naturally +cruel_,"[116] "_invariably savage_,"[117] or endued with "_pure demoniac +firmness_."[118] If ever there could have existed a woman to whom such +phrases could apply--a woman without touch of modesty, pity or +fear,--Shakspeare knew that a thing so monstrous was unfit for all the +purposes of poetry. If Lady Macbeth had been _naturally_ cruel, she +needed not so solemnly to have abjured all pity, and called on the +spirits that wait on mortal thoughts to _unsex_ her; nor would she have +been loved to excess by a man of Macbeth's character; for it is the +sense of intellectual energy and strength of will overpowering her +feminine nature, which draws from him that burst of intense admiration-- + + Bring forth men children only, + For thy undaunted metal should compose + Nothing but males. + +If she had been _invariably_ savage, her love would not have comforted +and sustained her husband in his despair, nor would her uplifted dagger +have been arrested by a dear and venerable image rising between her soul +and its fell purpose. If endued with _pure demoniac firmness_, her +woman's nature would not, by the reaction, have been so horribly +avenged, she would not have died of remorse and despair. + + * * * * * + +We cannot but observe that through the whole of the dialogue +appropriated to Lady Macbeth, there is something very peculiar and +characteristic in the turn of expression: her compliments, when she is +playing the hostess or the queen, are elaborately elegant and +verbose: but, when in earnest, she speaks in short energetic +sentences--sometimes abrupt, but always full of meaning; her thoughts +are rapid and clear, her expressions forcible, and the imagery like +sudden flashes of lightning: all the foregoing extracts exhibit this, +but I will venture one more, as an immediate illustration. + + MACBETH. + + My dearest love, + Duncan comes here to-night. + + LADY MACBETH. + + And when goes hence? + + MACBETH. + + To-morrow,--as he purposes. + + LADY MACBETH. + + O never + Shall sun that morrow see! + Thy face, my thane, is as a book, where men + May read strange matters;--to beguile the time, + Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye + Your tongue, your hand; look like the innocent flower, + But be the serpent under it. + +What would not the firmness, the self-command, the enthusiasm, the +intellect, the ardent affections of this woman have performed, if +properly directed? but the object being unworthy of the effort, the end +is disappointment, despair, and death. + +The power of religion could alone have controlled such a mind; but it is +the misery of a very proud, strong, and gifted spirit, without sense of +religion, that instead of looking upward to find a superior, looks +round and sees all things as subject to itself. Lady Macbeth is placed +in a dark, ignorant, iron age; her powerful intellect is slightly tinged +with its credulity and superstition, but she has no religious feeling to +restrain the force of will. She is a stern fatalist in principle and +action--"what is done, is done," and would be done over again under the +same circumstances; her remorse is without repentance, or any reference +to an offended Deity; it arises from the pang of a wounded conscience, +the recoil of the violated feelings of nature: it is the horror of the +past, not the terror of the future; the torture of self-condemnation, +not the fear of judgment; it is strong as her soul, deep as her guilt, +fatal as her resolve, and terrible as her crime. + +If it should be objected to this view of Lady Macbeth's character, that +it engages our sympathies in behalf of a perverted being--and that to +leave her so strong a power upon our feelings in the midst of such +supreme wickedness, involves a moral wrong, I can only reply in the +words of Dr. Channing, that "in this and the like cases our interest +fastens on what is _not_ evil in the character--that there is something +kindling and ennobling in the consciousness, however awakened, of the +energy which resides in mind; and many a virtuous man has borrowed new +strength from the force, constancy, and dauntless courage of evil +agents."[119] + +This is true; and might he not have added, that many a powerful and +gifted spirit has learnt humility and self-government, from beholding +how far the energy which resides in mind may be degraded and perverted? + + * * * * * + +In general, when a woman is introduced into a tragedy to be the +presiding genius of evil in herself, or the cause of evil to others, she +is either too feebly or too darkly portrayed; either crime is heaped on +crime, and horror on horror, till our sympathy is lost in incredulity, +or the stimulus is sought in unnatural or impossible situations, or in +situations that ought to be impossible, (as in the Myrrha or the Cenci,) +or the character is enfeebled by a mixture of degrading propensities and +sexual weakness, as in Vittoria Corombona. But Lady Macbeth, though so +supremely wicked, and so consistently feminine, is still kept aloof from +all base alloy. When Shakspeare created a female character purely +detestable, he made her an accessory, never a principal. Thus Regan and +Goneril are two powerful sketches of selfishness, cruelty, and +ingratitude; we abhor them whenever we see or think of them, but we +think very little about them, except as necessary to the action of the +drama. They are to cause the madness of Lear, and to call forth the +filial devotion of Cordelia, and their depravity is forgotten in its +effects. A comparison has been made between Lady Macbeth and the Greek +Clytemnestra in the Agamemnon of Eschylus. The Clytemnestra of +Sophocles is something more in Shakspeare's spirit, for she is something +less impudently atrocious; but, considered as a woman and an individual, +would any one compare this shameless adulteress, cruel murderess, and +unnatural mother, with Lady Macbeth? Lady Macbeth herself would +certainly shrink from the approximation.[120] + +The Electra of Sophocles comes nearer to Lady Macbeth as a poetical +conception, with this strong distinction, that she commands more respect +and esteem, and less sympathy. The murder in which she participates is +ordained by the oracle--is an act of justice, and therefore less a +murder than a sacrifice. Electra is drawn with magnificent simplicity +and intensity of feeling and purpose, but there is a want of light, and +shade, and relief. Thus the scene in which Orestes stabs his mother +within her chamber, and she is heard pleading for mercy, while Electra +stands forward listening exultingly to her mother's cries, and urging +her brother to strike again, "another blow! another!" &c. is terribly +fine, but the horror is too shocking, too _physical_--if I may use such +an expression: it will not surely bear a comparison with the murdering +scene in Macbeth, where the exhibition of various passions--the +irresolution of Macbeth, the bold determination of his wife, the deep +suspense, the rage of the elements without, the horrid stillness within, +and the secret feeling of that infernal agency which is ever present to +the fancy, even when not visible on the scene--throw a rich coloring of +poetry over the whole, which does not take from "the present horror of +the time," and yet relieves it. Shakspeare's blackest shadows are like +those of Rembrandt; so intense, that the gloom which brooded over Egypt +in her day of wrath was pale in comparison--yet so transparent that we +seem to see the light of heaven through their depth. + +In the whole compass of dramatic poetry, there is but one female +character which can be placed near that of Lady Macbeth; the MEDEA. Not +the vulgar, voluble fury of the Latin tragedy,[121] nor the Medea in a +hoop petticoat of Corneille, but the genuine Greek Medea,--the Medea of +Euripides.[122] + +There is something in the _Medea_ which seizes irresistibly on the +imagination. Her passionate devotion to Jason, for whom she had left her +parents and country--to whom she had given all, and + + Would have drawn the spirit from her breast + Had he but asked it, sighing forth her soul + Into his bosom;[123] + +the wrongs and insults which drive her to desperation--the horrid +refinement of cruelty with which she plans and executes her revenge upon +her faithless husband--the gush of fondness with which she weeps over +her children, whom in the next moment she devotes to destruction in a +paroxysm of insane fury, carry the terror and pathos of tragic situation +to their extreme height. But if we may be allowed to judge through the +medium of a translation, there is a certain hardness in the manner of +treating the character, which in some degree defeats the effect. Medea +talks too much: her human feelings and superhuman power are not +sufficiently blended. Taking into consideration the different impulses +which actuate Medea and Lady Macbeth, as love, jealousy, and revenge on +the one side, and ambition on the other, we expect to find more of +female nature in the first than in the last: and yet the contrary is the +fact: at least, my own impression as far as a woman may judge of a +woman, is, that although the passions of Medea are more feminine, the +character is less so; we seem to require more feeling in her +fierceness, more passion in her frenzy; something less of poetical +abstraction,--less art, fewer words: her delirious vengeance we might +forgive, but her calmness and subtlety are rather revolting. + +These two admirable characters, placed in contrast to each other, afford +a fine illustration of Schlegel's distinction between the ancient or +Greek drama, which he compares to sculpture, and the modern or romantic +drama, which he compares to painting. The gothic grandeur, the rich +chiaroscuro, and deep-toned colors of Lady Macbeth, stand thus opposed +to the classical elegance and mythological splendor, the delicate yet +inflexible outline of the Medea. If I might be permitted to carry this +illustration still further, I would add, that there exists the same +distinction between the Lady Macbeth and the Medea, as between the +Medusa of Leonardo da Vinci and the Medusa of the Greek gems and bas +reliefs. In the painting, the horror of the subject is at once exalted +and softened by the most vivid coloring, and the most magical contrast +of light and shade. We gaze--until, from the murky depths of the +background, the serpent hair seems to stir and glitter as if instinct +with life, and the head itself, in all its ghastliness and brightness, +appears to rise from the canvass with the glare of reality. In the +Medusa of sculpture, how different is the effect on the imagination! We +have here the snakes convolving round the winged and graceful head: the +brows contracted with horror and pain; but every feature is chiselled +into the most regular and faultless perfection; and amid the gorgon +terrors, there rests a marbly, fixed, supernatural grace, which, without +reminding us for a moment of common life or nature, stands before us a +presence, a power, and an enchantment! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[66] Milton. + +[67] "That the treachery of King John, the death of Arthur, and the +grief of Constance, had a real truth in history, sharpens the sense of +pain, while it hangs a leaden weight on the heart and the imagination. +Something whispers us that we have no right to make a mock of calamities +like these, or to turn the truth of things into the puppet and plaything +of our fancies."--See Characters of Shakspeare's Plays.--To consider +_thus_ is not to consider _too_ deeply, but not deeply _enough_. + +[68] _Grave_, in the sense of mighty or potent. + +[69] Fulvia, the first wife of Antony. + +[70] The well-known violence and coarseness of Queen Elizabeth's +manners, in which she was imitated by the women about her, may in +Shakspeare's time have rendered the image of a royal virago less +offensive and less extraordinary. + +[71] She was as good as her word. See the life of Antony in Plutarch. + +[72] _i. e._ retinue. + +[73] _i. e._ silver coins, from the Spanish _plata_. + +[74] Cleopatra replies to the first word she hears on recovering her +sense, "No more _an empress_, but a mere woman!" + +[75] _i. e._ sedate determination.--JOHNSON + +[76] The Cleopatra of Jodelle was the first regular French tragedy: the +last French tragedy on the same subject was the Cleopatre of Marmontel. +For the representation of this tragedy Vaucanson, the celebrated French +mechanist, invented an automaton asp, which crawled and hissed to the +life,--to the great delight of the Parisians. But it appears that +neither Vaucanson's asp, nor Clairon, could save Cleopatre from a +deserved fate. Of the English tragedies, one was written by the Countess +of Pembroke, the sister of Sir Philip Sydney; and is, I believe, the +first instance in our language, of original dramatic writing, by female. + +[77] "The sober eye of dull Octavia."--Act v. scene 2. + +[78] Octavia was never in Egypt. + +[79] "The Octavia of Dryden is a much more important personage than in +the Antony and Cleopatra of Shakspeare. She is, however, more cold and +unamiable, for in the very short scenes in which the Octavia of +Shakspeare is introduced, she is placed in rather an interesting point +of view. But Dryden has himself informed us that he was apprehensive +that the justice of a wife's claim would draw the audience to her side, +and lessen their interest in the lover and the mistress. He seems +accordingly to have studiously lowered the character of the injured +Octavia who, in her conduct to her husband, shows much duty and little +love." Sir W. Scott (in the same fine piece of criticism prefixed to +Dryden's All for Love) gives the preference to Shakspeare's Cleopatra. + +[80] In all, about two thousand pounds. + +[81] The corresponding passage in the old English Plutarch runs thus: +"My son, why dost thou not answer me? Dost thou think it good altogether +to give place unto thy choler and revenge, and thinkest thou it not +honesty for thee to grant thy mother's request in so weighty a cause? +Dost thou take it honorable for a nobleman to remember the wrongs and +injuries done him, and dost not in like case think it an honest +nobleman's part to be thankful for the goodness that parents do show to +their children, acknowledging the duty and reverence they ought to bear +unto them? No man living is more bound to show himself thankful in all +parts and respects than thyself, who so universally showest all +ingratitude. Moreover, my son, thou hast sorely taken of thy country, +exacting grievous payments upon them in revenge of the injuries offered +thee; besides, thou hast not hitherto showed thy poor mother any +courtesy. And, therefore, it is not only honest, but due unto me, that +without compulsion I should obtain my so just and reasonable request of +thee. But since by reason I cannot persuade ye to it, to what purpose do +I defer my last hope?" And with these words, herself, his wife, and +children, fell down upon their knees before him. + +[82] _Vide_ Daru, Histoire de Bretagne. + +[83] _Vide_ Sir Peter Leycester's Antiquities of Chester. + +[84] By the treaty of Messina, 1190 + +[85] Malone says, that "In expanding the character of the bastard, +Shakspeare seems to have proceeded on the following slight hint in an +old play on the story of King John:-- + + Next them a bastard of the king's deceased-- + A hardy wild-head, rough and venturous." + +It is easy to _say_ this; yet who but Shakspeare could have expanded the +last line into a Falconbridge? + +[86] The Greek Merope, which was esteemed one of the finest of the +tragedies of Euripides, is unhappily lost; those of Maffei, Alfieri, and +Voltaire, are well known. There is another Merope in Italian, which I +have not seen: the English Merope is merely a bad translation from +Voltaire. + +[87] "Queen Elinor saw that if he were king, how his mother Constance +would look to bear the most rule in the realm of England, till her son +should come of a lawful age to govern of himself."--HOLINSHED. + +[88] King John, Act iii, Scene 1. + +[89] Louis VII. of France, whom she was accustomed to call, in contempt, +_the monk_. Elinor's adventures in Syria, whither she accompanied Louis +on the second Crusade, would form a romance. + +[90] Henry II. of England. It is scarcely necessary to observe that the +story of Fair Rosamond, as far as Elinor is concerned, is a mere +invention of some ballad-maker of later times. + +[91] _Vide_ Mezerai. + +[92] When at Naples, I have often stood upon the rock at the extreme +point of Posilippo, and looked down upon the little Island of Nisida, +and thought of this scene till I forgot the Lazaretta which now deforms +it: deforms it, however, to the fancy only, for the building itself, as +it rises from amid the vines, the cypresses and fig-trees which embosom +it, looks beautiful at a distance. + +[93] "The contention of the two Houses of York and Lancaster," in two +parts, supposed by Malone to have been written about 1590. + +[94] I abstain from making any remarks on the character of Joan of Arc, +as delineated in the First part of Henry VI.; first, because I do not in +my conscience attribute it to Shakspeare, and secondly, because in +representing her according to the vulgar English traditions, as half +sorceress, half enthusiast, and in the end, corrupted by pleasure and +ambition, the truth of history, and the truth of nature, justice, and +common sense, are equally violated. Schiller has treated the character +nobly: but in making Joan the slave of passion, and the victim of love, +instead of the victim of patriotism, has committed, I think, a serious +error in judgment and feeling; and I cannot sympathize with Madame de +Stael's defence of him on this particular point. There was no occasion +for this deviation from the truth of things, and from the dignity and +spotless purity of the character. This young enthusiast, with her +religious reveries, her simplicity, her heroism, her melancholy, her +sensibility, her fortitude, her perfectly feminine bearing in all her +exploits, (for though she so often led the van of battle unshrinking, +while death was all around her, she never struck a blow, nor stained her +consecrated sword with blood,--another point in which Schiller has +wronged her,) this heroine and martyr, over whose last moments we shed +burning tears of pity and indignation, remains yet to be treated as a +Dramatic character, and I know but one person capable of doing this. + +[95] See Henry VI. Part III. Act. iii. sc. 3-- + + QUEEN MARGARET. + + Warwick, these words have turned my hate to love,-- + And I forgive and quite forget old faults, + And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's friend. + + +[96] Horace Walpole observes, that "it is evident from the conduct of +Shakspeare, that the house of Tudor retained all their Lancasterian +prejudices even in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. In his play of Richard +the Third, he seems to deduce the woes of the house of York from the +curses which Queen Margaret had vented against them; and he could not +give that weight to her curses, without supposing a right in her to +utter them." + +[97] See her letters in Ellis's Collection. + +[98] Under similar circumstances, one of Katherine's predecessors, +Philippe of Hainault, had gained in her husband's absence the battle of +Neville Cross, in which David Bruce was taken prisoner. + +[99] Ellis's Collection. We must keep in mind that Katherine was a +foreigner, and till after she was seventeen, never spoke or wrote a word +of English. + +[100] Hall's Chronicle + +[101] Hall's Chronicle, p. 781. + +[102] The court at Blackfriars sat on the 28th of May, 1529. "The queen +being called, accompanied by the four bishops and others of her counsel, +and a great company of ladies and gentlewomen following her; and after +her obeisance, sadly and with great gravity, she appealed from them to +the court of Rome."--_See Hall and Cavendish's Life of Wolsey._ + +The account which Hume gives of this scene is very elegant; but after +the affecting _naivete_ of the old chroniclers, it is very cold and +unsatisfactory. + +[103] "The queen answered the Duke of Suffolk very highly and +obstinately, with many high words: and suddenly, in a fury she departed +from him into her privy chamber."--_Vide Hall's Chronicle_. + +[104] _Vide_ Cavendish's Life of Wolsey. + +[105] Winter's Tale, act iii. scene 2. + +[106] I have constantly abstained from considering any of these +characters with a reference to the theatre; yet I cannot help remarking, +that if Mrs. Siddons, who excelled equally in Hermione and Katherine, +and threw such majesty of demeanor, such power, such picturesque effect, +into both, could likewise feel and convey the infinite contrast between +the ideal grace, the classical repose and imaginative charm thrown round +Hermione, and the matter-of-fact, artless, prosaic nature of Katherine; +between the poetical grandeur of the former, and the moral dignity of +the latter,--then she certainly exceeded all that I could have imagined +possible, even to _her_ wonderful powers. + +[107] This affecting passage is thus rendered by Shakspeare:-- + + Nay, forsooth, my friends, + They that must weigh out my afflictions-- + They that my trust must grow to, live not here-- + They are, as all my other comforts, far hence, + In mine own country, lords. + + _Henry VIII._ _act_ iii. _sc._ 1 + + +[108] Dr. Johnson is of opinion, that this scene "is above any other +part of Shakspeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other +poet, tender and pathetic; without gods, or furies, or poisons, or +precipices; without the help of romantic circumstances; without +improbable sallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of +tumultuous misery." + +I have already observed, that in judging of Shakspeare's characters as +of persons we meet in real life, we are swayed unconsciously by our own +habits and feelings, and our preference governed, more or less, by our +individual prejudices or sympathies. Thus, Dr. Johnson, who has not a +word to bestow on Imogen, and who has treated poor Juliet as if she had +been in truth "the very beadle to an amorous sigh," does full justice to +the character of Katherine, because the logical turn of his mind, his +vigorous intellect, and his austere integrity, enabled him to appreciate +its peculiar beauties: and, accordingly, we find that he gives it, not +only unqualified, but almost exclusive admiration: he goes so far as to +assert, that in this play the genius of Shakspeare comes in and goes out +with Katherine. + +[109] It will be remembered, that in early youth Anna Bullen was +betrothed to Lord Henry Percy, who was passionately in love with her. +Wolsey, to serve the king's purposes, broke off this match, and forced +Percy into an unwilling marriage with Lady Mary Talbot. "The stout Earl +of Northumberland," who arrested Wolsey at York, was this very Percy; he +was chosen for his mission by the interference of Anna Bullen--a piece +of vengeance truly feminine in its mixture of sentiment and +spitefulness; and every way characteristic of the individual woman. + +[110] The king is said to have wept on reading this letter, and her body +being interred at Peterbro', in the monastery, for honor of her memory +it was preserved at the dissolution, and erected into a bishop's +see.--_Herbert's Life of Henry VIII._ + +[111] Written, (as the commentators suppose,) not by Shakspeare, but by +Ben Jonson. + +[112] Mrs. Siddons left among her papers an analysis of the character of +Lady Macbeth, which I have never seen: but I have heard her say, that +after playing the part for thirty years, she never read it without +discovering in it something new. She had an idea that Lady Macbeth must +from her Celtic origin have been a small, fair, blue-eyed woman. +Bonduca, Fredegonde, Brunehault, and other Amazons of the gothic ages +were of this complexion; yet I cannot help fancying Lady Macbeth dark, +like Black Agnes of Douglas--a sort of Lady Macbeth in her way. + +[113] In her impersonation of the part of Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Siddons +adopted successively three different intonations in giving the words _we +fail_. At first a quick contemptuous interrogation--"_we fail?_" +Afterwards with the note of admiration--_we fail!_ and an accent of +indignant astonishment, laying the principal emphasis on the word +_we_--_we_ fail! Lastly, she fixed on what I am convinced is the true +reading--we fail. with the simple period, modulating her voice to a +deep, low, resolute tone, which settled the issue at once--as though she +had said, "if we fail, why then we fail, and all is over." This is +consistent with the dark fatalism of the character and the sense of the +line following, and the effect was sublime, almost awful. + +[114] _Metaphysical_ is here used in the sense of spiritual or +preternatural. + +[115] Mrs. Siddons, I believe, had an idea that Lady Macbeth beheld the +spectre of Banquo in the supper scene, and that her self-control and +presence of mind enabled her to surmount her consciousness of the +ghastly presence. This would be superhuman, and I do not see that either +the character or the text bear out this supposition. + +[116] Cumberland. + +[117] Professor Richardson. + +[118] Foster's Essays. + +[119] See Dr. Channing's remarks on Satan, in his essay "On the +Character and Writings of Milton."--_Works_, p 181. + +[120] The vision of Clytemnestra the night before she is murdered, in +which she dreams that she has given birth to a dragon, and that, in +laying it to her bosom, it draws blood instead of milk, has been greatly +admired; but I suppose that those who most admire it would not place it +in comparison with Lady Macbeth's sleeping scene. Lady Ashton, in the +Bride of Lammermoor, is a domestic Lady Macbeth; but the development +being in the narrative, not the dramatic form, it follows hence that we +have a masterly portrait, not a complete individual: and the relief of +poetry and sympathy being wanting, the detestation she inspires is so +unmixed as to be almost intolerable: consequently the character, +considered in relation to the other personages of the story, is perfect; +but abstractedly, it is imperfect; a basso relievo--not a statue. + +[121] Attributed to Seneca. + +[122] A comparison has already been made in an article in the +"Reflector." It will be seen on a reference to that very masterly Essay, +that I differ from the author in his conception of Lady Macbeth's +character. + +[123] Appollonius Rhodius.--_Vide_ Elton's Specimens of the Classic +Poets. + + +THE END. + + + + +Books by Mrs. Anna Jameson + + +THE CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN: MORAL, POETICAL, AND HISTORICAL. + +THE DIARY OF AN ENNUYEE. + +MEMOIRS OF THE LOVES OF THE POETS. Biographical Sketches of Women +celebrated in Ancient and Modern Poetry. + +STUDIES, STORIES, AND MEMOIRS. + +SKETCHES OF ART, LITERATURE, AND CHARACTER. With a Steel Engraving of +Raphael's Madonna del San Sisto. + +MEMOIRS OF THE EARLY ITALIAN PAINTERS (Cimabue to Bassano). + +LEGENDS OF THE MADONNA as represented in the Fine Arts. + +SACRED AND LEGENDARY ART. In two volumes. + +LEGENDS OF THE MONASTIC ORDERS as represented in the Fine Arts. Forming +the Second Series of Sacred and Legendary Art. + +Each volume, 16mo, $1.25; the ten volumes, in box, $12.50; half calf, +$25.00; tree calf, $35.00. + + * * * * * + +Houghton, Mifflin & Co., _Publishers_, BOSTON AND NEW YORK. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Characteristics of Women, by Anna Jameson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN *** + +***** This file should be named 26152.txt or 26152.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/1/5/26152/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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