THE AGE OF ELIZABETH
TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS
_The thick line indicates the period of active literary
production._
1560 1570 1580 1590 1600 1610 1620 1630 1640
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Spenser |........|.. ║[83]| | ║ | | | | |
(1552–99) | | ║ ===================║ | | | | |
| ║ | | |║[84] | | | |║ |
Drayton | ║......|........|........|║===================================║ |
(1563–1631) | | | | | | | | |
| | ║ | | ║ | | | |║ |
Donne | | ║ ....|........|.║==================================║ |
(1573–1631) | | | | | | | | |
| ║ | | ║[85]| ║ | | | | |
Marlowe | ║......|........|...║========║ | | | | |
(1564–93) | | | | | | | | |
| ║ | | | ║[86] | | ║ | | |
Shakespeare | ║......|........|........|.║===================║ | | |
(1564–1616) | | | | | | | | |
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Jonson | | ║ | | ║[87] | | | | ║ |
(1573–1637) | | ║....|........|..║=====================================║ |
| | | ║ |║[88] ║ | | | | |
Hooker |........|........|...║=====║=====║ | | | | |
(1553–1600) | | | | | | | | |
|║ | | | ║[89] | | | ║ | |
Bacon |║.......|........|........|...║==========================║ | |
(1561–1626) | | | | | | | | |
| | ║ | | | | |║[90] | ║ |
Burton | | ║.....|........|........|........|........|║==============║ |
(1577–1640) | | | | | | | | |
THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1550–1630)
This chapter introduces the reign of Elizabeth, sees it reach its
climax and conclusion, and then witnesses the literary decline under
the first of the Stuarts. The dominating features of the period can be
conveniently summarized under two heads.
=1. Settlement.= Both in politics and religion the English nation
was attaining to a state of stability. Dynastic problems, though they
were troublesome, were not sufficient to cause serious trouble; and the
union of the Crowns finally set at rest the ancient quarrel between
Scotland and England. In religion the same general features were
apparent--a general subsidence into quiescence, with minor disturbances
at regular intervals. The settlement was all for the good of literature.
=2. Expansion.= In our history this is perhaps the most remarkable
epoch for the expansion of both mental and geographical horizons. New
knowledge was pouring in from the East, and new worlds were opening
in the West. The great voyagers, whose exploits were chronicled in
the immortal pages of =Hakluyt (1553–1616)=, brought home both
material and intellectual treasures from beyond the “still-vexed
Bermoothes,” as Shakespeare called them. It is unnecessary to enlarge
upon the important effects which these revolutionary discoveries
produced in literature.
LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE
=1. The New Classicism.= By the time of Elizabeth the Renaissance,
as it was called, had made itself strongly felt in England. In
particular, there was an ardent revival in the study of Greek, which
brought a dazzling light into many dark places of the intellect.
The new passion for classical learning, in itself a rich and worthy
enthusiasm, became quite a danger to the language. In all branches
of literature Greek and Latin usages began to force themselves upon
English, with results not wholly beneficial. It said much for the
native sturdiness of English that, after a brief and vexed period of
transition, it threw off the worst effects of this deadening pressure.
English did not emerge unscathed from the contest. But, applied to this
slight extent, the new classical influences were a great benefit: they
tempered and polished the earlier rudeness of English literature.
=2. Abundance of Output.= After the lean years of the preceding epoch
the prodigal issue of the Elizabethan age is almost embarrassing. As
we have pointed out, the historical situation encouraged a healthy
production. The interest shown in literary subjects is quite amazing
to a more chastened generation. Pamphlets and treatises were freely
written; much abuse, often of a personal and scurrilous character,
was indulged in; and literary questions became almost of national
importance. To a great extent the controversies of the day were puerile
enough, but at least they indicated a lively interest in the literature
of the period.
=3. The New Romanticism.= The romantic quest is for the remote, the
wonderful, and the beautiful. All these desires were abundantly fed
during the Elizabethan age, which is our first and greatest romantic
epoch. On the one hand, there was the revolt against the past, whose
grasp was too feeble to hold in restraint the lusty youth of the
Elizabethan age; on the other, there was a daring and resolute spirit
of adventure in literary as well as in other regions; and, most
important of all, there was an unmistakable buoyancy and freshness
in the strong wind of the spirit. It was the ardent youth of English
literature, and the achievement was worthy of it.
=4. The Drama.= The bold and critical attitude of the time was in
keeping with the dramatic instinct, which is analytic and observant.
Hence, after the long period of incubation detailed in the last
chapter, the drama made a swift and wonderful leap into maturity.
Yet it had still many early difficulties to overcome. The actors
themselves were at variance, so much so that outrageous brawls were
frequent. On more than one occasion between 1590 and 1593 the theaters
were closed owing to disturbances caused by the actors. In 1594 the
problem was solved by the licensing of two troupes of players, the Lord
Chamberlain’s (among whom was Shakespeare) and the Lord Admiral’s.
Another early difficulty the drama had to face was its fondness for
taking part in the quarrels of the time--for example, in the burning
“Marprelate” controversy. Owing to this meddling the theaters were
closed in 1589. Already, also, a considerable amount of Puritanical
opposition was declaring itself. The most important anti-dramatic book
of the day was Gosson’s virulent _School of Abuse_ (1579), to which
Sidney replied with his _Apologie for Poetrie_ (about 1580).
In spite of such early difficulties, the drama reached the splendid
consummation of Shakespeare’s art; but before the period closed decline
was apparent.
=5. Poetry.= Though the poetical production was not quite equal to the
dramatic, it was nevertheless of great and original beauty. As can be
observed from the disputes of the time, the passion for poetry was
absorbing, and the outcome of it was equal to expectation.
=6. Prose.= For the first time prose rises to a position of first-rate
importance. The dead weight of the Latin tradition was passing away;
English prose was acquiring a tradition and a universal application;
and so the rapid development was almost inevitable.
=7. Scottish Literature.= A curious minor feature of the age was the
disappearance of Scottish literature, after its brief but remarkable
appearance in the previous age. At this point it took to ground, and
did not reappear till late in the eighteenth century.
EDMUND SPENSER (1552–99)
=1. His Life.= From a passage in one of his sonnets it seems clear
that Spenser was born in 1552; and from another passage, in his
_Prothalamion_, we can deduce that he was born in London. His parentage
is unknown; but, though Spenser claimed kinship with the noble branch
of the Spenser family, it is fairly certain that he was a member
of some northern plebeian branch. He was educated at the Merchant
Taylors’ School (just founded in 1560) and at Cambridge. He left
Cambridge in 1576, and for a few years his movements are unknown,
though he probably spent the time in the North of England. He comes
into view in London during the year 1579 as a member of the famous
literary circle surrounding Sir Philip Sidney and his uncle the Earl
of Leicester. Sidney patronized Spenser, introducing him to the Queen
and encouraging him in his imitation of the classical meters. In 1580
Sidney’s patronage bore fruit, for Spenser was appointed secretary to
Lord Grey de Wilton, who had just been appointed Lord-Deputy of Ireland.
In Ireland Spenser remained for eighteen years, serving the English
government in more than one capacity, and seeing his share of the
rebellion, outrage, and misery that afflicted the unhappy land. In the
end his services were requited by the grant of Kilcolman Castle, near
Limerick, and an estate of three thousand acres. In 1589 he visited
London to publish the first three books of _The Faerie Queene_.
After remaining in London for nearly two years he returned to Ireland;
married an Irishwoman (1591); revisited London in 1596, bringing
a second instalment of his great work; and once more returned to
Kilcolman, which was ultimately burnt down (1598) during one of the
sporadic rebellions that tormented the country. One of his children
perished in the fire. A ruined and disappointed man, he repaired to
London, where in the next year he died, “for lack of bread,” according
to the statement of Ben Jonson.
=2. His Minor Poems.= The first of the poems that have descended to us
is _The Shepherd’s Calendar_ (1579). The title, adopted from a popular
compilation of the day, suggests the contents: a series of twelve
eclogues, one for each month of the year. Each eclogue, as is common
with the species, is in dialogue form, in which the stock pastoral
characters, such as Cuddie, Colin Clout, and Perigot, take part. The
pieces, though they are of no great poetical merit, served as excellent
poetical exercises, for they range widely in meter, contain much
skillful alliteration, and juggle with the conventional phrases of the
pastoral.
A volume of miscellaneous poems, including _The Ruins of Time_,
_The Tears of the Muses_, _Mother Hubberd’s Tale_, and _The Ruins
of Rome_, appeared in 1591; in 1595 he published his _Amoretti_, a
series of eighty-eight sonnets celebrating the progress of his love;
_Epithalamion_, a magnificent ode, rapturously jubilant, written in
honor of his marriage; and _Colin Clouts Come Home Againe_, somewhat
wordy, but containing some interesting personal details. In 1596
appeared his _Four Hymns_ and _Prothalamion_, the latter not so fine as
the great ode of the previous year.
Spenser’s shorter poems illustrate his lyrical ability, which is
moderate in quality. His style is too diffuse and ornate to be
intensely passionate; but, especially in the odes, he can build up
sonorous and commanding measures which by their weight and splendor
delight both mind and ear. To a lesser extent, as in _Mother Hubberd’s
Tale_, the shorter poems afford him scope for his satirical bent, which
can be sharp and censorious.
We quote from the _Epithalamion_, which stands at the summit of English
odes:
Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,
And all the pillars deck with girlonds trim,
For to receive this Saint with honour due,
That cometh unto you.
With trembling steps, and humble reverence,
She cometh in, before the Almighty’s view;
Of her, ye virgins, learn obedience,
When so ye come into these holy places,
And humble your proud faces.
Bring her up to the high altar, that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endless matrimony make;
And let the roaring organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes;
The whiles, with hollow throats,
The choristers the joyous anthem sing,
That all the woods may answer, and their echo ring.
=3. Prose.= In addition to his letters, which are often interesting and
informative, Spenser left one longish prose work, a kind of State paper
done in the form of a dialogue. Called _A View of the Present State
of Ireland_ (1594), it gives Spenser’s views on the settlement of the
Irish question. His opinions are exceeding hostile to the Irish, and
his methods, if put in force, would amount to pure terrorism. The style
of the pamphlet is quite undistinguished.
=4. The Faerie Queene.= In spite of the variety and beauty of his
shorter poems, _The Faerie Queene_ is by far the most important of
Spenser’s works.
(_a_) _Dates of Composition._ The work appeared in instalments. In 1589
Spenser crossed to London and published the first three books; in 1596
the second three followed; and after his death two cantos and two odd
stanzas of Book VII appeared. It was reported that more of the work
perished in manuscript during the fire at Kilcolman, but this is not
certain.
(_b_) _The Plot._ The construction of the plot is so obscure
(“clowdily enwrapped in Allegorical devises,” as Spenser himself says)
that he was compelled to write a preface, in the form of a letter
to his friend Sir Walter Raleigh, explaining the scheme underlying
the whole. There were to be twelve books, each book to deal with the
adventures of a particular knight, who was to represent some virtue.
As we have the poem, the first book deals with the Knight of the Red
Cross, representing Holiness; the second with Temperance; the third
with Chastity; the fourth with Friendship; and so on. The chief of
all the twelve is Prince Arthur, who is to appear at critical moments
in the poem, and who in the end is to marry Gloriana, the Queen of
“Faerie-londe.” The plot is exceedingly leisurely and elaborate; it
is crammed with incident and digression; and by the fifth book it is
palpably weakening. It is therefore no misfortune (as far as the plot
is concerned) that only half of the story is finished.
(_c_) _The Allegory._ With its twelve divisions, each of which bears
many smaller branches, the allegory is the most complex in the
language. Through the story three strands keep running, twisting and
untwisting in a manner both baffling and delightful. (1) There are the
usual characters, poorly developed, of the Arthurian and classical
romance, such as Arthur, Merlin, Saracens, fauns, and satyrs. (2)
There are the allegorized moral and religious virtues, with their
counterparts in the vices: Una (Truth), Guyon (Temperance), Duessa
(Deceit), Orgoglio (Pride).
(3) Lastly, there is the strongly Elizabethan
political-historical-religious element, also strongly allegorized. For
example, Gloriana is Elizabeth, Duessa may be Mary, Queen of Scots,
Archimago may be the Pope, and Artegal (Justice) is said to be Lord
Grey. Sometimes the allegory winds and multiplies in a bewildering
fashion. Elizabeth, who is grossly and shamelessly flattered in the
poem, is sometimes Gloriana, sometimes Belphœbe, or Britomart, or
Mercilla. It is very ingenious, but it retards the story.
(_d_) _The Style._ No one, however, goes to Spenser for a story; one
goes to steep the senses in the rich and voluptuous style. The style
has its weaknesses: it is diffuse, and lacks judgment; it is weak in
“bite” and in sharpness of attack; and it is misty and unsubstantial.
But for beauty long and richly wrought, for subtle and sustained
melody, for graphic word-pictures, and for depth and magical color of
atmosphere the poem stands supreme in English. Its imitators, good and
bad, are legion. Milton, Keats, and Tennyson are among the best of
them, and its influence is still powerful.
(_e_) _The Technique._ To the formal part of the poem Spenser devoted
the intelligence and care of the great artist. (1) First of all, he
elaborated an archaic diction: “he writ no language,” said Ben Jonson,
who did not like the diction. When the occasion demanded it he invented
words or word-forms; for example, he uses _blend_ for _blind_, _kest_
for _cast_, and _vilde_ for _vile_. The result is not perhaps ideal,
but on the whole it suits the old-world atmosphere of the poem. (2) He
introduced the Spenserian stanza, which ever since has been one of the
most important measures in the language. Longer than the usual stanza,
but shorter than the sonnet, as a unit it is just long enough to give
an easy pace to the slowly pacing narrative. The complicated rhymes of
the stanza suit the interwoven harmonies of the style; and the long
line at the end acts either as a dignified conclusion or as a longer
and stronger link with the succeeding stanza. (3) The alliteration,
vowel-music, and cadence are cunningly fashioned, adroitly developed,
and sumptuously appropriate. In these last respects Spenser is almost
peerless.
We add two brief extracts to illustrate some features of the style. The
reader should analyze the stanza and observe the graphical power and
the melodic beauty.
(1) And more to lulle him in his slumber soft,
A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne.
No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
As still are wont t’annoy the walled towne,
Might there be heard; but carelesse Quiet lyes
Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.
(2) At last he came unto a gloomy shade,
Covered with boughes and shrubs from heavens light,
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade
An uncouth, salvage, and uncivile wight,[91]
Of griesly hew and foule ill favour’d sight;
His face with smoke was tand and eies were bleard,
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight,
His cole-blacke hands did seeme to have ben seard
In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles like clawes appeard.
His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust,
Was underneath enveloped with gold;
Whose glistring glosse, darkened with filthy dust,
Well yet appeared to have beene of old
A worke of rich entayle[92] and curious mould,
Woven with antickes and wyld ymagery;
And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,
And turned upside downe, to feede his eye
And covetous desire with his huge threasury.
And round about him lay on every side
Great heapes of gold that never could be spent;
Of which some were rude owre,[93] not purifide
Of Mulcibers devouring element;
Some others were new driven, and distent[94]
Into great Ingowes[95] and to wedges square;
Some in round plates withouten moniment;
But most were stampt, and in their metal bare
The antique shapes of kings and kesars straunge and rare.
OTHER POETS
=1. Sir Thomas Wyat (1503–42)= was descended from an ancient Yorkshire
family which adopted the Lancastrian side in the Wars of the Roses.
He was educated at Cambridge, and, entering the King’s service, was
entrusted with many important diplomatic missions. In public life his
principal patron was Thomas Cromwell, after whose death he was recalled
from abroad and imprisoned (1541). Though subsequently acquitted and
released, he died shortly afterward.
None of Wyat’s poems is very long, though in number they are
considerable. The most numerous of them are his love-poems, ninety-six
in all, which appeared in a compendium of the day called _Tottel’s
Miscellany_ (1557). The most noteworthy of these poems are the
sonnets, the first of their kind in English, thirty-one in number. Of
these, ten are written almost entirely in the Italian or Petrarchan
form. In sentiment the shorter poems, and especially the sonnets, are
serious and reflective; in style and construction they are often too
closely imitative to be natural and genial; but as indications of the
new scholastic and literary influences at work upon English, sweetening
and chastening the earlier uncouthness, they are of the highest
importance. Wyat’s epigrams, songs, and rondeaux are lighter than the
sonnets, and they also reveal a care and elegance that were typical of
the new romanticism. His _Satires_ are composed in the Italian
_terza rima_, once again showing the direction of the innovating
tendencies.
=2. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1518–47)=, whose name is usually
associated in literature with that of Wyat, was the younger poet of
the two. He was the son of Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, and when
his father became Duke of Norfolk (1524) the son adopted the courtesy
title of Earl of Surrey. Owing largely to the powerful position of his
father, Surrey took a prominent part in the Court life of the time,
and served as a soldier both in France and Scotland. He was a man of
reckless temper, which involved him in many quarrels, and finally
brought upon him the wrath of the ageing and embittered Henry VIII. He
was arrested, tried for treason, and beheaded on Tower Hill.
About 1542 Surrey began his literary relations with Wyat, who was his
elder by fifteen years. His poems, which were the recreations of his
few leisure moments, and which were not published till after his death
(1557), appeared along with Wyat’s in _Tottel’s Miscellany_. They
are chiefly lyrical, and include a few sonnets, the first of their
kind, composed in the English or Shakespearian mode--an arrangement of
three quatrains followed by a couplet. There are in addition a large
number of love-poems addressed to a mysterious “Geraldine.” They are
smoother than Wyat’s poems, and are much more poetical in sentiment
and expression. His most important poem was published separately:
_Certain Bokes of Virgiles Æneis turned into English Meter_
(1557). Though the actual translation is of no outstanding merit, the
form is of great significance; it is done in blank verse, rather rough
and frigid, but the earliest forerunner of the great achievements of
Shakespeare and Milton.
In the development of English verse Surrey represents a further stage:
a higher poetical faculty, increased ease and refinement, and the
introduction of two metrical forms of capital importance--the English
form of the sonnet, and blank verse. We add a specimen of the earliest
English blank verse. It is wooden and uninspired, but as a beginning it
is worthy of attention.
But now the wounded quene with heavie care
Throwgh out the vaines doth nourishe ay the plage,
Surprised with blind flame, and to her minde
Gan to resort the prowes of the man
And honor of his race, whiles on her brest
Imprinted stake his wordes and forme of face,
Ne to her lymmes care graunteth quiet rest.
The next morowe with Phœbus lampe the erthe
Alightned clere, and eke the dawninge daye
The shadowe danke gan from the pole remove.
=3. Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset (1536–1608)=, was born at
Buckhurst, in Sussex, and was educated both at Oxford and Cambridge. He
was called to the Bar, entered Parliament, took part in many diplomatic
and public missions, and was created Lord Buckhurst in 1566. His plain
speaking did not recommend itself to Elizabeth, and for a time he was
in disgrace. He was restored to favor, created Lord High Treasurer, and
made Earl of Dorset in 1604.
In bulk Sackville’s poetry does not amount to much, but in merit it is
of much consequence. Two poems, _The Induction_ and _The Complaint of
Henry, Duke of Buckingham_, appeared in a miscellany called _The Mirror
for Magistrates_ (1555). Both are composed in the rhyme royal stanza,
are melancholy and elegiac in spirit and archaic in language, but
have a severe nobility of thought and a grandeur of conception and of
language quite unknown since the days of Chaucer. The poems undoubtedly
assisted Spenser in the composition of _The Faerie Queene_.
Sackville collaborated with Norton in the early tragedy of _Gorboduc_
(see p. 77).
We add a few stanzas from _The Induction_ to illustrate the somber
graphical power of the poem:
And, next in order, sad Old Age we found,
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind,
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him assigned
To rest, when that the Sisters had untwined
His vital thread, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast-declining life.
There heard we him, with broke and hollow plaint,
Rue with himself his end approaching fast,
And all for nought his wretched mind torment
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past,
And fresh delights of lusty youth forwaste;[96]
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek,
And to be young again of Jove beseek!
* * * * *
Crook-backed he was, tooth-shaken, and blear-eyed,
Went on three feet, and sometime crept on four;
With old lame bones, that rattled by his side;
His scalp all piled,[97] and he with eld forelore;
His withered fist still knocking at Death’s door;
Fumbling and drivelling as he draws his breath;
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.
=4. George Gascoigne (1535–77)= is another of the founders of the
great Elizabethan tradition. He was born in Bedfordshire, educated at
Cambridge, and became a lawyer. Later in life he entered Parliament.
In addition to a large number of elegant lyrics, he composed one of
the first regular satires in the language, _The Steel Glass_ (1576).
This poem has the additional importance of being written in blank
verse. Among his other numerous works we can mention his tragedy
_Jocasta_ (1566), a landmark in the growth of the drama (see p. 77);
his _Supposes_ (1566), an important early comedy which was the basis of
Shakespeare’s _Taming of the Shrew_; and _Certayne Notes of Instruction
concerning the Making of Verse in English_ (1575), one of our earliest
critical essays. In ease and versatility Gascoigne is typical of the
best early Elizabethan miscellaneous writers.
=5. Sir Philip Sidney (1554–86)= was the chief of an elegant literary
coterie, and exercised an influence which was almost supreme during his
short life. He was the most commanding literary figure before the prime
of Spenser and Shakespeare. Born in Kent of an aristocratic family,
he was educated at Shrewsbury and Oxford, and then traveled widely.
He took a brilliant part in the military-literary-courtly life common
with the young nobles of the time, and at the early age of thirty-two
was mortally wounded at Zutphen when assisting the Dutch against the
Spaniards.
Sidney was successful in more than one branch of literature, but
he owes his position chiefly to his collection of sonnets called
_Astrophel and Stella_. Though they are strongly imitative of Italian
sentiment, and are immature in thought and in general ideas, they are
often remarkable for their flashes of real passion and their genuine
poetical style. In metrical form they adopt the English scheme, and
thus in another respect they foreshadow the great Shakespearian
sonnets, to which alone they take second place.
=6. Michael Drayton (1563–1631)= represents the later epoch of
Elizabethan literature. He was born in Warwickshire, studied at Oxford,
was attached to a noble family as tutor, came to London about 1590, and
for the remainder of his long life was busy in the production of his
many poems.
His first book was a collection of religious poems called _The Harmony
of the Church_ (1591); then followed a number of long historical
poems, which include _England’s Heroical Epistles_ and _The Barons’
Wars_ (1603). His _Polyolbion_ is the most important of his longer
poems, and belongs to a later period of his career. It is a long,
careful, and tedious description of the geographical features of
England, interspersed with tales, and written in alexandrines. His
shorter poems, such as his well-known poem on Agincourt, and his verse
tales and pastorals, such as _The Man in the Moon_ and _Nymphidia_,
are skillful and attractive. Drayton is rarely an inspired poet--the
wonderful sonnet beginning “Since there’s no help” (see p. 152) is
perhaps his only poem in which we feel inspiration flowing freely--but
he is painstaking, versatile, and sometimes (as in _Nymphidia_)
delightful.
=7. Thomas Campion (1567–1620)= was born in London, educated at
Cambridge, studied law in Gray’s Inn, but ultimately became a physician
(1606). He wrote some masques that had much popularity, but his chief
claim to fame lies in his attractive lyrics, most of which have been
set to music composed partly by the poet himself. His best-known
collections of songs were _A Booke of Ayres_ (1601), _Songs of
Mourning_ (1613), and _Two Bookes of Ayres_ (1613). Campion had not the
highest lyrical genius, but he had an ear skillful in adapting words
to tunes, the knack of sweet phrasing, and a mastery of complicated
meters. He is one of the best examples of the accomplished poet
who, lacking the highest inspiration of poetry, excels in the lower
technical features.
The lyric of Campion’s that we add is typical not only of his own grace
and melody, but also of the later Elizabethan lyrics as a whole. The
ideas, in themselves somewhat forced and fantastic, are expressed with
great felicity.
There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow;
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till “Cherry-ripe” themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds fill’d with snow:
Yet them no peer nor prince may buy
Till “Cherry-ripe” themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat’ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
These sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till “Cherry-ripe” themselves do cry.
=8. Phineas Fletcher (1582–1650)= and =Giles Fletcher (1588–1623)= are
usually associated in the history of literature. They were brothers,
were both educated at Cambridge, and both took holy orders. Both were
poetical disciples of Spenser.
Phineas Fletcher’s chief poem is _The Purple Island, or The Isle of
Man_ (1633), a curious work in twelve cantos describing the human
body in an allegorical-descriptive fashion. There is much digression,
which gives the poet some scope for real poetical passages. In its plan
the poem is cumbrous and artificial, but it contains many descriptions
in the Spenserian manner. The stanza is a further modification of the
Spenserian, which it resembles except for its omission of the fifth and
seventh lines.
Giles’s best-known poem is _Christ’s Victorie and Triumph_ (1610),
an epical poem in four cantos. The title of the poem sufficiently
suggests its subject; in style it is glowingly descriptive,
imaginative, and is markedly ornate and melodious in diction. It is
said partly to have inspired Milton’s _Paradise Regained_. The
style is strongly suggestive of Spenser’s, and the stanza conveys the
same impression, for it is the Spenserian stanza lacking the seventh
line.
The Fletchers are imitators, but imitators of high quality. They lack
the positive genius of their model Spenser, but they have intensity,
color, melody, and great metrical artistry.
=9. John Donne (1573–1631)= was born in London, the son of a
wealthy merchant. He was educated at Oxford, and then studied law.
Though he entered the public service and served with some distinction,
his bent was always theological, and in 1616 he was ordained. In 1621
he was appointed Dean of St. Paul’s.
Donne’s poetical works are probably more important than those composed
in prose, valuable though the latter are. He began poetical composition
with _Satires_ (1593), forcible and picturesque, though crabbed and
obscure in language. His other poems include _The Progress of the
Soul_, his longest poem, composed about 1600; _An Anatomy of the World_
(1611), a wild, exaggerated eulogy of a friend’s daughter, who had
just died; and a large number of miscellaneous poems, including songs,
sonnets, elegies, and letters in verse.
In his nature Donne had a strain of actual genius, but his natural
gifts were so obscured with fitful, wayward, and exaggerated mannerisms
that for long he was gravely underrated. His miscellaneous poems
show his poetical features at their best: a solemn, half-mystical,
half-fanatical religious zeal; a style of somber grandeur, shot with
piercing gleams of poetical imagery; and an almost unearthly music of
word and phrase. Often, and especially in the _Satires_, he is
rough and obscure; in thought and expression he is frequently fantastic
and almost ludicrous; but at his best, when his stubborn, melancholy
humor is fired with his emotional frenzy, he is almost alone in his
curious compound of gloom and brilliance, of ice and consuming fire. He
is the last of the Elizabethans, and among the first of the coming race
of the “Metaphysicals.”
His prose works comprise a large number of sermons, a few theological
treatises, of which the greatest is _The Pseudo-Martyr_ (1609), and
a small number of personal letters. In its peculiar manner his prose
is a reflex of his poetry. There is the same soaring and exaggerated
imagery, the same fierce pessimism, and often the same obscurity and
roughness. In prose his sentences are long and shapeless, but the
cadence is rapid and free, and so is suited to the purposes of the
sermon.
As a brief specimen of his poetical mannerisms, good and bad, we add
the following sonnet. The reader will observe the rugged grandeur of
the style and the curious intellectual twist that he gives to the
general idea of the poem.
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow:
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou’rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke. Why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally;
And death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die.
_Holy Sonnetts_
=10. Samuel Daniel (1562–1619)= was born near Taunton in Somerset,
educated at Oxford, and became tutor to the son of the Countess of
Pembroke. For a time (1599) he was Poet Laureate, and was made (1603)
Master of the Queen’s Revels by James I.
His poems include a sonnet-series called _Delia_ (1592), a romance
called _The Complaint of Rosamund_ (1592), some long historical poems,
such as _The Civil Wars_ (1595), and a large number of masques, of
which _The Queenes Wake_ (1610) and _Hymen’s Triumph_ (1615) are the
most important. His best work appears in his sonnets, which, composed
in the English manner, carry on the great tradition of Sidney, Spenser,
and Shakespeare. In his longer poems he is prosy and dull, though the
masques have pleasing touches of imagination.
=11.= The =poetical miscellanies= which abound during this period
are typical of the time. By the very extravagance of their titles
they reveal the enthusiasm felt for the revival of English poetry.
Each volume consists of a collection of short pieces by various
poets, some well known and others unknown. Some of the best poems are
anonymous. Among much that is almost worthless, there are happily
preserved many poems, sometimes by unknown poets, of great and
enduring beauty. We have already drawn attention (p. 96) to _Tottel’s
Miscellany_ (1557), which contained, among other poems, the pieces of
Wyat and Surrey. Other volumes are _The Paradyse of Daynty Devises_
(1576), _A Handfull of Pleasant Delites_ (1584), _The Phœnix Nest_
(1593), and _The Passionate Pilgrim_ (1599). The last book contains
poems by Shakespeare, Marlowe, and Ralegh. The most important of the
miscellanies is _England’s Helicon_ (1600), which surpasses all others
for fullness, variety, and excellence of contents.
PRE-SHAKESPEARIAN DRAMA: THE UNIVERSITY WITS
In the last chapter we gave a summary of the rise of the English
drama; it is now necessary to give an account of the early Elizabethan
playwrights.
The name “University Wits” is usually applied to a group of young
men, nearly all of whom were associated with Oxford or Cambridge, who
did much to found the Elizabethan school of drama. They were all more
or less acquainted with each other, and most of them led irregular
and stormy lives. Their plays had several features in common. These
features were of a nature almost inevitable in strong and immature
productions.
(_a_) There was a fondness for heroic themes, such as the lives of
great figures like Mohammed and Tamburlaine.
(_b_) Heroic themes needed heroic treatment: great fullness and
variety; splendid descriptions, long swelling speeches, the handling of
violent incidents and emotions. These qualities, excellent when held in
restraint, only too often led to loudness and disorder.
(_c_) The style also was “heroic.” The chief aim was to achieve strong
and sounding lines, magnificent epithets, and powerful declamation.
This again led to abuse and to mere bombast, mouthing, and in the worst
cases to nonsense. In the best examples, such as in Marlowe, the result
is quite impressive. In this connection it is to be noted that the best
medium for such expression was blank verse, which was sufficiently
elastic to bear the strong pressure of these expansive methods.
(_d_) The themes were usually tragic in nature, for the dramatists
were as a rule too much in earnest to give heed to what was considered
to be the lower species of comedy. The general lack of real humor in
the early drama is one of its most prominent features. Humor, when
it is brought in at all, is coarse and immature. Almost the only
representative of the writers of real comedies is Lyly, who in such
plays as _Alexander and Campaspe_ (1584), _Endymion_ (1592), and _The
Woman in the Moon_ gives us the first examples of romantic comedy.
=1. George Peele (1558–98)= was born in London, educated at Christ’s
Hospital and at Oxford, and became a literary hack and free-lance in
London. His plays include _The Araygnement of Paris_ (1581), a kind
of romantic comedy; _The Famous Chronicle of King Edward the First_
(1593), a rambling chronicle-play; _The Old Wives’ Tale_ (1595), a
clever satire on the popular drama of the day; and _The Love of King
David and Fair Bethsabe_ (published 1599). Peele’s style can be violent
to the point of absurdity; but he has his moments of real poetry; he
can handle his blank verse with more ease and variety than was common
at the time; he is fluent; he has humor and a fair amount of pathos. In
short, he represents a great advance upon the earliest drama, and is
perhaps the most attractive among the playwrights of the time.
We give a short example to illustrate the poetical quality of his blank
verse:
_David._ Now comes my lover tripping like the roe,
And brings my longings tangled in her hair.
To ’joy her love I’ll build a kingly bower,
Seated in hearing of a hundred streams,
That, for their homage to her sovereign joys,
Shall, as the serpents fold into their nests,
In oblique turnings wind the nimble waves
About the circles of her curious walks,
And with their murmur summon easeful sleep
To lay his golden sceptre on her brows.
_The Love of King David and Fair Bethsabe_
=2. Robert Greene (1560–92)= wrote much and recklessly, but his
plays are of sufficient merit to find a place in the development of
the drama. He was born at Norwich, educated at Cambridge (1575) and
at Oxford (1588), and then took to a literary life in London. If all
accounts, including his own, are true, his career in London must have
taken place in a sink of debauchery. He is said to have died, after
an orgy in a London ale-house, “of a surfeit of pickle herringe and
Rennish wine.”
Here we can refer only to his thirty-five prose tracts, which are
probably the best of his literary work, for they reveal his intense
though erratic energy, his quick, malicious wit, and his powerful
imagination. His plays number four: _Alphonsus, King of Arragon_
(1587), an imitation of Marlowe’s _Tamburlaine_; _Friar Bacon and
Friar Bungay_ (1589), easily his best, and containing some fine
representations of Elizabethan life; _Orlando Furioso_ (1586), adapted
from an English translation of Ariosto; and _The Scottish Historie of
James the Fourth_ (acted in 1592), not a “historical” play, but founded
on an imaginary incident in the life of the King. Greene is weak in
creating characters, and his style is not of outstanding merit; but his
humor is somewhat genial in his plays, and his methods less austere
than those of the other tragedians.
=3. Thomas Nash (1567–1601)= was born at Lowestoft, educated
at Cambridge, and then (1586) went to London to make his living by
literature. He was a born journalist, but in those days the only scope
for his talents lay in pamphleteering. He took an active part in the
political and personal questions of the day, and his truculent methods
actually landed him in jail (1600). He finished Marlowe’s _Dido_,
but his only surviving play is _Summer’s Last Will and Testament_
(1592), a satirical masque. His _Jack Wilton, or The Unfortunate
Traveller_ (1594), a prose tale, is important in the development of
the novel (see p. 336).
=4. Thomas Lodge (1558–1625)= was the son of a Lord Mayor of London,
was educated in London and at Oxford, and studied law. He deserted his
legal studies, took to a literary career, and is said to have been an
actor at one time.
His dramatic work is small in quantity. He probably collaborated with
Shakespeare in _Henry VI_, and with other dramatists, including
Greene. The only surviving play entirely his own is _The Woundes
of Civile War_, a kind of chronicle-play. His pamphleteering was
voluminous and energetic; and he imitated the euphuistic tales of Lyly.
=5. Thomas Kyd (1558–94)= is one of the most important of the
University Wits. Very little is known of his life. He was born in
London, educated (probably) at Merchant Taylors’ School, adopted
a literary career, and became secretary to a nobleman. He became
acquainted with Marlowe, and that brilliant but sinister spirit
enticed him into composing “lewd libels” and “blasphemies.” Marlowe’s
sudden death saved him from punishment for such offenses; but Kyd was
imprisoned and tortured. Though he was afterward released, Kyd soon
died under the weight of “bitter times and privy broken passions.”
Much of this dramatist’s work has been lost. Of the surviving plays
_The Spanish Tragedy_ (about 1585) is the most important. Its horrific
plot, involving murder, frenzy, and sudden death, gave the play a great
and lasting popularity. There is a largeness of tragical conception
about the play that resembles the work of Marlowe, and there are
touches of style that dimly foreshadow the great tragical lines of
Shakespeare. Other plays of Kyd’s are _Soliman and Perseda_ (1588),
_Jeronimo_ (1592), a kind of prologue to _The Spanish Tragedy_, and
_Cornelia_ (1594), a tedious translation from the French.
=6. Christopher Marlowe (1564–93)= is symbolical both of the best
and the worst of his boisterous times. The eldest son of a shoemaker,
he was born at Canterbury, and educated there and at Cambridge. Like
so many more of that day, he adopted literature as a profession, and
became attached to the Lord Admiral’s players. Marlowe’s great mental
powers had in them a twist of perversity, and they led him into many
questionable actions and beliefs. He became almost the pattern of the
evil ways of his tribe. Charges of atheism and immorality were laid
against him, and only his sudden death saved him from the experiences
of his friend Kyd. Marlowe is said to have met his death in a tavern
brawl, “stabbed to death by a bawdy servingman, a rival of his in his
lewde love.” In fairness to the memory of Marlowe it must be remembered
that these charges were made against him by the Puritanical opponents
of the stage.
With Marlowe’s tragedies we at length come within measureable distance
of Shakespeare. The gulf between the work of the two men is still very
great. In Marlowe there is none of that benign humanity that clings to
even the grimmest of Shakespeare’s tragedies. Marlowe’s characters
are bleak in nature and massive in outline; enormous and majestical,
but forbidding and almost inhuman. His style has the same qualities:
glowing with a volcanic energy, capable of a mighty soaring line and
phrase (“Marlowe’s mighty line,” as Ben Jonson called it), but diffuse,
truculent, exaggerated, and bombastic. It is a lopsided style lacking
the more amiable qualities of humor, flexibility, sweetness, and
brevity.
His four great plays, all written within a few years, are _Tamburlaine
the Great_ (1587), _Doctor Faustus_ (1588), _The Jew of Malta_ (1589),
and _Edward II_ (1593). All four, in their march of horrors and
splendors, are not unlike one another. The last has a conclusion which
for pity and terror ranks among the great achievements of Elizabethan
tragedy. The plays, moreover, show a progressing dexterity in the
handling of blank verse. Marlowe’s life was pitiably short. If he had
lived there might have been another triumph to chronicle.
He also collaborated with Nash in the tragedy of _Dido_ (1593), and
left uncompleted a poor fragment of a play called _The Massacre at
Paris_.
We give a brief extract to show the “mighty line.” In the passage
Tamburlaine, “the Scourge of God,” mentally reviews his past conquests.
And I have marched along the river Nile
To Machda where the mighty Christian priest,
Called John the Great, sits in a milk-white robe,
Whose triple mitre I did take by force,
And made him swear obedience to my crown,
From thence unto Cazates did I march,
Where Amazonians met me in the field,
With whom, being women, I vouchsafed a league,
And with my power did march to Zanzibar,
The eastern part of Afric, where I viewed
The Ethiopian sea, rivers and lakes,
But neither man nor child in all the land;
Therefore I took my course to Manico,
Where unresisted, I removed my camp,
And by the coast of Byather, at last
I came to Cubar, where the negroes dwell,
And conquering that, made haste to Nubia.
There having sacked Borno, the kingly seat,
I took the king, and led him bound in chains
Unto Damasco, where I stayed before.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1564–1616)
=1. His Life.= In considering the life of Shakespeare we have at
our disposal a fair number of facts; but on these facts the industry
of commentators has constructed an additional mass of great magnitude
and complexity. It is therefore the duty of the historian with only
a limited space at his disposal to keep his eye steadily upon the
established facts and, without being superior or disdainful, to turn
toward speculation or surmise, however ingenious or laborious, a face
of tempered but obdurate skepticism.
The future dramatist, as we learn from the church records, was baptized
in the parish church at Stratford-on-Avon on April 26, 1564. He may
have been born on April 23, St. George’s Day, which happens also to
be the date of his death in 1616. His father, John Shakespeare, was a
burgess of the town, and seems to have followed the occupations of a
butcher, a glover, and a farmer. The boy may have attended the grammar
school of the town, though Ben Jonson, himself a competent scholar,
affirmed that Shakespeare knew “small Latin and less Greek.” From
various entries in the town records it is clear that John Shakespeare,
after flourishing for a time, fell on evil days, and the son may have
assisted in the paternal butcher’s shop. A bond dated November 28,
1582, affords clear evidence of Shakespeare’s marriage on that date to
a certain “Anne Hatthwey of Stratford.” As at this time Shakespeare was
only eighteen, and (as appears from the inscription on her monument)
the bride was eight years older, speculation has busied itself over the
somewhat ill-assorted match.
In 1584 Shakespeare left his native town. Why he did so is not known.
The most popular explanation, which appeared after his death, is that
he was convicted of poaching on the estate of a local magnate, Sir
Thomas Lucy, and that he fled to escape the consequences. Then, until
1592, when he reappears as a rising actor, Shakespeare disappears
from view. During this period he is said to have wandered through the
country, finally coming to London, where he performed various menial
offices, including that of holding horses at the stage-door. On the
face of them such tales are not improbable, but they grew up when the
dramatist had become a half-mythical figure.
In 1592 Robert Greene, in a carping book called _A Groatsworth of
Wit_, mentions “an upstart crow ... in his own conceit the only
Shakescene in a country.”[98] This reference, most probably a gibe at
Shakespeare, shows that he is now important enough to merit abuse. In
1595 his name appears on the payroll of the Lord Chamberlain’s company
of actors, who performed at the Court. This company, one of the most
important in the town, also played in the provinces, especially during
the plague of 1603, in the Shoreditch Theatre till it was demolished
in 1598, in the Globe Theatre, and finally (after 1608) in the
Blackfriars. During this period, as can be inferred from his purchases
of property both in London and Stratford, Shakespeare was prospering in
worldly affairs. He was a competent but not a great actor; tradition
asserts that his chief parts were of the type of Adam in _As You Like
It_ and the Ghost in _Hamlet_. His chief function was to write
dramas for his company, and the fruit of such labor was his plays.
About 1610 Shakespeare left London for Stratford, where he stayed at
New Place, a house that he had bought. He may have written his last
plays there; but it is likely that his connection with his company
of actors ceased when the Globe Theatre was burned down during a
performance of _Henry VIII_ in 1613. His will, a hurriedly
executed document, is dated March 25, 1616. His death occurred a month
later, April 23.
=2. His Poems.= Shakespeare’s two long narrative poems were among
the earliest of his writings. _Venus and Adonis_ (1593), composed in
six-line stanzas, showed decided signs of immaturity. Its subject
was in accordance with popular taste; its descriptions were heavily
ornamented and conventional; but it contained individual lines and
expressions of great beauty. Already the hand of Shakespeare was
apparent. _The Rape of Lucrece_ (1594), in rhyme royal stanzas, is of
less merit. As was common in the poetry of that day, the action was
retarded with long speeches, but there were Shakespearian touches all
through. In 1599 a collection of verse called _The Passionate Pilgrim_
appeared with Shakespeare’s name on the title-page. Of the constituent
poems only one, taking its name from the title of the book, has been
decidedly fixed as Shakespeare’s. It consists of some sonnets of
unequal merit.
In 1609 a collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets was printed by Thomas
Thorpe, who dedicated the volume to a certain “Mr. W. H.” as being
“the onlie begetter” of the sonnets. Speculation has exhausted itself
regarding the identity of “Mr. W. H.” The most probable explanation is
that he was William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. The sonnets themselves
consist of 154 numbers, which are all composed in the English form of
the sonnet, that of three quatrains clenched with a couplet. The entire
collection falls into two groups of unequal size, divided, at number
cxxvi, by a poem of six couplets. The first group consists largely
of a series of cryptic references, often passionately expressed, to
his friendship with a youth, apparently of high rank, who may be,
and probably is, the mysterious “Mr. W. H.” The second group, also
obscurely phrased, is taken up with reproaches addressed to his
mistress, “a black beauty,” whose hair is like “black wires.” The
identity of this “Dark Lady of the Sonnets” is one of the romances of
our literature. She may be, as is often asserted, Mary Fitton, who
happened to be fair; but she probably did not exist at all. Among the
numerous sonneteers of the time it was a common trick to apostrophize
a lovely and fickle mistress, as a rule quite imaginary, and it may be
that Shakespeare was following the custom of the period.
Concerning the literary quality of the sonnets there can be no
dispute. In the depth, breadth, and persistency of their passion,
in their lordly but never overweening splendor of style, and, above
all, in their mastery of a rich and sensuous phraseology, they are
unique. Byron once remarked that the tissue of poetry cannot be all
brilliance, any more than the midnight sky can be entirely stars; but
several of the sonnets (for example, xxx, xxxiii, lv, lxxi, cxvi) are
thick clusters of starlight; and all through the series the frequency
of lovely phrasing is great indeed. We quote one sonnet that is
nearly perfect; the second that we give, after a splendid opening,
deteriorates toward the conclusion.
(1) Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is a star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
_Sonnet cxvi_
(2) When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rime,
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
_Sonnet cvi_
Shakespeare’s later poetical work is worthily represented in the
numerous lyrics that are scattered through the plays. It is not quite
certain how much of the songs is original; it is almost certain that
Shakespeare, like Burns, used popular songs as the basis of many of
his lyrics. As they stand, however, the lyrics show a great range of
accomplishment, most of it of the highest quality. It varies from the
nonsense-verses in _Hamlet_ and _King Lear_ to the graceful
perfection of Ariel’s “Full fathom five”; from the homely rusticity
of “It was a lover and his lass” to the scholarly ease and wry humor
of “O mistress mine”; it includes such gems as the willow-song in
_Othello_, “Take, O take those lips away,” in _Measure for
Measure_, and the noble dirge, “Fear no more the heat o’ the
sun,” in _Cymbeline_. If Shakespeare had not been our greatest
dramatist, he would have taken a place among our greatest lyrical poets.
=3. His Plays.= Concerning the plays that are usually accepted
as being Shakespeare’s, almost endless discussion has arisen. In the
following pages we shall indicate the main lines of Shakesperian
criticism.
(_a_) THE ORDER OF THE PLAYS. All the manuscripts of the plays have
perished; Shakespeare himself printed none of the texts; and though
eighteen of them appeared singly in quarto form during his lifetime,
they were all unauthorized editions. It was not till 1623, seven
years after his death, that the First Folio edition was printed. It
contained thirty-six dramas (_Pericles_ was omitted), and these are now
universally accepted as Shakespeare’s. In the Folio edition the plays
are not arranged chronologically, nor are the dates of composition
given. The dates of the separate Quartos are registered at Stationers’
Hall, but these are the dates of the printing. With such scanty
evidence to hand to assign the order of the plays, a task fundamental
to all discussion of the dramas, much ingenious deductive work has been
necessary. The evidence can be divided into three groups.
(1) _Contemporary References._ With one important exception, such
are of little value. The exception occurs in a book by Francis Meres
(1565–1647), an Elizabethan schoolmaster. In _Palladis Tamia, Wit’s
Treasury_ (1598) he gives a list of contemporary authors, among whom is
Shakespeare. Meres mentions twelve of Shakespeare’s plays, along with
“his _Venus and Adonis_, his _Lucrece_, and his sugred sonnets among
his private friends.” This valuable reference supplies us with a list
of plays which were written before 1598.
(2) _Internal References._ In the course of the plays there occur
passages, more or less obscure, that can be traced to contemporary
events. Such are the references to “the imperial votaress” (perhaps
Elizabeth) in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, to “the two-fold balls
and treble sceptres” (perhaps the Union of 1603) in _Macbeth_, and
to a famous eclipse of the moon in the _Sonnets_. Owing to the
invariable obscurity of the passages, this class of evidence should be
used cautiously, but unfortunately it has been made the basis of much
wild theorizing.
(3) _The Literary Evidence._ Soberly examined, and taken strictly
in conjunction with the statement of Meres and the dates of the Quartos
(when these are available), this type of evidence is by far the most
reliable. We can examine the workmanship of the plays, paying attention
to the construction of the plots, the force and originality of the
characters, the standard of style, the metrical dexterity--in short,
the general level of competence. In a general survey of the dramas
no great skill is necessary on the part of the reader to observe a
distinct variation in craftsmanship. By grading the plays according to
their literary development a certain rough approximation of date can be
deduced.
(_b_) THE DATES OF THE PLAYS. The following table, which
to a large extent is the outcome of generations of discussion and
contention, represents a moderate or average estimate of the dates
of the plays. It can be only an approximate estimate, for no exact
decision can ever be possible.
1590
1 _Henry VI_
1591–2
2 _Henry VI_
3 _Henry VI_
1593
_Richard III_
_Edward III_ (in part)
_The Comedy of Errors_
1594
_Titus Andronicus_
_The Taming of the Shrew_
_Love’s Labour’s Lost_
_Romeo and Juliet_
1595
_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_
_The Two Gentlemen of Verona_
_King John_
1596
_Richard II_
_The Merchant of Venice_
1597
1 _Henry IV_
1598
2 _Henry IV_
_Much Ado about Nothing_
1599
_Henry V_
_Julius Cæsar_
1600
_The Merry Wives of Windsor_
_As You Like It_
1601
_Hamlet_
_Twelfth Night_
1602
_Troilus and Cressida_
_All’s Well that Ends Well_
1603
(Theaters closed)
1604
_Measure for Measure_
_Othello_
1605
_Macbeth_
_King Lear_
1606
_Antony and Cleopatra_
_Coriolanus_
1607
_Timon of Athens_ (unfinished)
1608
_Pericles_ (in part)
1609
_Cymbeline_
1610
_The Winter’s Tale_
1611
_The Tempest_
1613
_The Two Noble Kinsmen_ (in part)
_Henry VIII_ (in part)
(_c_) CLASSIFICATION OF THE PLAYS. It is customary to group the plays
into sets that to some extent traverse the order given above.
(1) _The Early Comedies._ In these plays there is a certain amount of
immaturity: the plots show less originality; the characters are less
finished; the power of the style is less sustained; the humor is often
puerile and quibbling; and there is a large amount of prose. Of this
type are _The Comedy of Errors_, _Love’s Labour’s Lost_, and _The Two
Gentlemen of Verona_.
(2) _The Histories._ These show an advance, particularly in style.
There is more blank verse, which, though it is often stiffly imitative
of the older playwrights, abounds in splendid passages. The appearance
of such characters as Falstaff in _Henry IV_ and other plays is a sign
of growing strength.
(3) _The Tragedies._ The great tragedies, such as _Hamlet_, _Macbeth_,
and _King Lear_, are the climax of Shakespearian art. They reveal the
best of his characterization and the full power of his style.
(4) _The Later Comedies._ A mellowed maturity is the chief feature of
this group, which contains _Cymbeline_, _The Winter’s Tale_, and _The
Tempest_. The creative touch of the dramatist, making living men out
of figment, is abundantly in view; the style is notable and serenely
adequate; and with the ease of the master the author thoroughly subdues
the meter to his will. No more fitting conclusion--rich, ample, and
graciously dignified--could be found to round off the work of our
greatest literary genius.
=4. His Prose.= Shakespeare’s prose appears all through the plays,
sometimes in passages of considerable length. In the aggregate
the amount is quite large. In the earlier comedies the amount is
considerable, but the proportion is apt to diminish in the later
plays. With regard to the prose, the following points should be
observed: (_a_) it is the common vehicle for comic scenes, though
used too in serious passages (one of which is given below); (_b_) it
represents the common speech of the period, and some of it, as can be
seen in _Hamlet_, is pithy and bracing. Even the rather stupid clowning
that often takes place cannot altogether conceal its beauty.
We quote a passage from _Hamlet_. The style is quite modern in phrase,
and the beauty and grace of it are far beyond the ordinary standard of
Shakespeare’s literary contemporaries.
I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to
me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air,
look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof
fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me
but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece
of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculty!
in form, in moving, how express and admirable! in action how
like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of
the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this
quintessence of dust?
_Hamlet_
=5. Features of his Plays.= The extent, variety, and richness of the
plays are quite bewildering as one approaches them. All that can be
done here is to set down in order some of the more obvious of their
qualities.
(_a_) _Their Originality._ In the narrowest sense of the term,
Shakespeare took no trouble to be original. Following the custom of
the time, he borrowed freely from older plays (such as _King Leir_),
chronicles (such as Holinshed’s), and tales (such as _The Jew_, the
part-origin of _The Merchant of Venice_). To these he is indebted
chiefly for his plots; but in his more mature work the interest in the
plot becomes subordinate to the development of character, the highest
achievement of the dramatist’s art. He can work his originals deftly:
he can interweave plot within plot, as in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_;
he can solidify years of history into five acts, as in _King John_ and
_Antony and Cleopatra_; and, as in _Macbeth_, he makes the dust of
history glow with the spirit of his imagination.
(_b_) _Characters._ (1) In sheer _prodigality of output_ Shakespeare
is unrivaled in literature. From king to clown, from lunatic and
demi-devil to saint and seer, from lover to misanthrope--all are
revealed with the hand of the master. Surveying this multitude, one can
only cry out, as Hamlet does, “What a piece of work is man!”
(2) Another feature of Shakespeare’s characterization is his attitude
of _impartiality_. He seems indifferent to good and evil; he has the
eye of the creator, viewing bright and dismal things alike, provided
they are apt and real. In his characters vice and virtue commingle, and
the union is true to the common sense of humanity. Thus the villain
Iago is a man of resolution, intelligence, and fortitude; the murderer
Claudius (in _Hamlet_) shows affection, wisdom, and fortitude; the
peerless Cleopatra is narrow, spiteful, and avaricious; and the beast
Caliban has his moments of ecstatic vision. The list could be extended
almost without limit, but these examples must serve.
(3) Hence follows the _vital force_ that resides in the creations of
Shakespeare. They live, move, and utter speech; they are rounded,
entire, and capable. Very seldom, and that almost entirely in the
earlier plays, he uses the wooden puppets that are the stock-in-trade
of the inferior dramatist. Of such a kind are some of his “heavy”
fathers, like Egeus (in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_), and his
sentimental lovers, like Orsino (in _Twelfth Night_). Yet, as a rule,
in the hands of Shakespeare the heavy father can develop into such
living beings as the meddlesome old bore Polonius (in _Hamlet_), and
the tediously sentimental lover can become the moody and headstrong
Romeo, or the virile and drolly humorous Orlando (in _As You Like It_).
(_c_) _Meter._ As in all the other features of his work, in meter
Shakespeare shows abnormal range and power. In the earlier plays the
blank verse is regular in beat and pause; there is a fondness for the
stopped and rhymed couplet; and in a few cases the couplet passes
into definite stanza-formation in a manner suggestive of the early
pre-Shakespearian comedies.
_Lysander._ Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears:
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true?
_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_
As Shakespeare becomes more sure of his instrument the verse increases
in ease and dexterity; the cadence is varied; the pause is shifted
to any position in the line. In the later plays there is an especial
fondness for the extra syllable at the end of the line. And before he
finishes he has utterly subdued the meter to his will. In the last line
of the extract now given every foot is abnormal:
_Lear._ And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou’lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
_King Lear_
(_d_) _Style._ For lack of a better name we call Shakespeare’s style
Shakesperian. One can instantly recognize it, even in other authors,
where it is rarely visible. It is a difficult, almost an impossible,
matter to define it. There is aptness and quotability in it: sheaves
of Shakespeare’s expressions have passed into common speech. To a very
high degree it possesses sweetness, strength, and flexibility; and
above all it has a certain inevitable and final felicity that is the
true mark of genius.
The following specimen shows the average Shakespearian style, if such a
thing exists at all. It is not extremely elevated or poetical, but it
is strong, precise, and individual.
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.
_Hamlet_
Such a style moves easily into the highest flights of poetry:
(1) That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O! it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
_Twelfth Night_
(2) _Cleopatra._ Come, thou mortal wretch,
[_To the asp, which she applies to her breast._
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie; poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch....
_Charmian._ O eastern star!
_Cleopatra._ Peace, peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?
_Antony and Cleopatra_
Or it can plumb the depths of terror and despair. The following are the
words of a condemned wretch shivering on the brink of extinction:
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
Of those that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling: ’tis too horrible!
_Measure for Measure_
The style lends itself to the serenely ecstatic reverie of the sage:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
_The Tempest_
It can express, on the other hand, the bitterest cynicism:
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.
_Measure for Measure_
Or, in prose, Shakespeare can put into words the artless pathos of the
humble hostess of the inn:
_Hostess._ Nay, sure, he’s not in hell: he’s in Arthur’s
bosom, if ever man went to Arthur’s bosom. A’ made a finer end
and went away an it had been any christom child; a’ parted even
just between twelve and one, even at the turning o’ the tide;
for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers
and smile upon his fingers’ ends, I knew that there was but one
way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’ babbled of green
fields. “How now, Sir John?” quoth I: “what, man! be of good
cheer.” So a’ cried out “God, God, God!” three or four times.
_Henry V_
Shakespeare can rant, and often rants badly; but at its best his
ranting glows with such imaginative splendor that it becomes a thing of
fire and majesty: