Content and Ang|er
In me have but one face.--Act III. scene i.
Force and great Feat
Must put my garland on, where she will stick
The queen of flowers.--Act V. scene i.
[Sidenote: Instances of Shakspere's Personification in _The Two Noble
Kinsmen_.]
Thou (_Love_) mayst force the king
To be his subject's vassal, and _induce
Stale Gravity to dance_;--the pollèd bachelor,
_Whose youth_, (like wanton boys through bon|fires,)
[26:1]_Has skipt thy flame_, at seventy thou canst catch,
And make him, to the scorn of his hoarse throat,
Abuse young lays of love.--Act V. scene ii.
Mercy and manly Cour|age
Are bed fellows in his visage.--Act V. scene v.
_Our Reasons are not proph|ets,
When oft our Fancies are._--Act V. scene v.
The hints which you have now perused, are not, I repeat, offered to you
as by any means exhausting the elements of Shakspeare's manner of
writing. They are meant only to bring to your memory such of his
qualities of style as chiefly distinguish him from Fletcher, and are
most prominently present in the play we are examining. [Sidenote: In
bits of the _Two Noble Kinsmen_ several of Shakspere's distinctive
qualities are often combin'd.] When we shall see those qualities
instanced singly, they will afford a proof of Shakspeare's authorship:
but that proof will receive an incalculable accession of strength when,
as will more frequently happen, we shall have several of them displayed
at once in the same passages. Your recollection of them will serve us as
the lines of a map would in a journey on foot through a wild forest
country: the beauty of the landscape will tempt us not seldom to diverge
and lose sight of our path, and we shall need their guidance for
enabling us to regain it.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The story of _Palamon and Arcite_.]
The story of PALAMON AND ARCITE is a celebrated one, and, besides its
appearance here, has been taken up by other two of our greatest English
poets. Chaucer borrowed the tale from the _Teseide_ of Boccaccio: it
then received a dramatic form in this play; and from Chaucer's antique
sketch it was afterwards decorated with the trappings of heroic rhyme,
by one who fell on evil days, the lofty and unfortunate Dryden.
[Sidenote: Character of the story of Palamon and Arcite.] It treats of a
period of ancient and almost fabulous history, which originally belonged
to the classical writers, but had become familiar in the chivalrous
poetry of the middle ages; and retaining the old historical characters,
it intersperses with them new ones wholly imaginary, and, both in the
Knightes Tale and in the play, preserves the rich and anomalous
magnificence of the Gothic cos[27:1]tume. [Sidenote: Theseus the centre
of _The Two Noble Kinsmen_.] The character round which the others are
grouped, one which Shakspeare has introduced in another of his works, is
the heroic Theseus, whom the romances and chronicles dignify with the
modern title of Duke of Athens; and in this story he is connected with
the tragical war of the Seven against Thebes, one of the grandest
subjects of the ancient Grecian poetry.
[Sidenote: First Act of _Two Noble Kinsmen_ Shakspere's.]
The whole of the First Act may be safely pronounced to be Shakspeare's.
The play opens with the bridal procession of Theseus and the fair Amazon
Hippolita, whose young sister EMILIA is the lady of the tale. While the
marriage-song is singing, the train are met by three queens in mourning
attire, who fall down at the feet of Theseus, Hippolita, and Emilia.
They are the widows of three of the princes slain in battle before
Thebes, and the conqueror Creon has refused the remains of the dead
soldiers the last honour of a grave. The prayer of the unfortunate
ladies to Theseus is, that he would raise his powerful arm to force from
the tyrant the unburied corpses, that the ghosts of the dead may be
appeased by the performance of fitting rites of sepulture. The duty
which knighthood imposed on the Prince of Athens, is combated by his
unwillingness to quit his bridal happiness; but generosity and
self-denial at length obtain the victory, and he marches, with banners
displayed, to attack the Thebans.
This scene bears decided marks of Shakspeare.--The lyrical pieces
scattered through his plays are, whether successful or not, endowed with
a stateliness of rhythm, an originality and clearness of imagery, and a
nervous quaintness and pomp of language, which can scarcely be mistaken.
[Sidenote: The Bridal Song can't be Fletcher's.] The Bridal Song which
ushers in this play, has several of the marks of distinction, and is
very unlike the more formal and polished rhymes of Fletcher.
[Sidenote: Act I. sc. i.
The Bridal Song is Shakspere's.]
. . . . .
Primrose, first-born child of Ver,
Merry springtime's harbinger,
_With her bells dim_:
Oxlips in their cradles growing,
_Marigolds on death-beds blowing_,
Lark-heels trim:
All, dear Nature's children sweet,
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
[28:1]_Blessing their sense_:
Not an _angel of the air_,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
Be absent hence!
. . . . .
[Sidenote: Dialogue in I. i. has the characteristics of Shakspere's
style: is crowded, obscure, alliterative, clear and yet confus'd, has
fulness and variety, originality and true poetry.]
But the dialogue which follows is strikingly characteristic. It has
sometimes Shakspeare's identical images and words: it has his quaint
force and sententious brevity, crowding thoughts and fancies into the
narrowest space, and submitting to obscurity in preference to feeble
dilation: it has sentiments enunciated with reference to subordinate
relations, which other writers would have expressed with less grasp of
thought: it has even Shakspeare's alliteration, and one or two of his
singularities in conceit: it has clearness in the images taken
separately, and confusion from the prodigality with which one is poured
out after another, in the heat and hurry of imagination: it has both
fulness of illustration, and a variety which is drawn from the most
distant sources; and it has, thrown over all, that air of originality
and that character of poetry, the principle of which is often hid when
their presence and effect are most quickly and instinctively
perceptible.
_1 Queen._ (_To Theseus._) For pity's sake, and true gentility's,
Hear and respect me!
_2 Queen._ (_To Hippolita._) For your mother's sake,
And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair | ones,
Hear and respect me!
_3 Queen._ (_To Emilia._) Now for the love of him whom Jove hath
marked
The honour of your bed, and for the sake
Of clear virginity, be advocate
For us and our distresses! This good deed
Shall rase you, out of the Book of Trespasses,
All you are set down there.
These latter lines are of a character which is perfectly and singularly
Shakspeare's. [Sidenote: Shakspere's gravity and seriousness.] The shade
of gravity which so usually darkens his poetry, is often heightened to
the most solemn seriousness. The religious thought presented here is
most alien from Fletcher's turn of thought.--The ensuing speech offers
much of Shakspeare. [Sidenote: Shakspere sometimes harsh and coarse.]
His energy, sometimes confined within [29:1]due limits, often betrays
him into harshness; and his liking for familiarity of imagery and
expression sometimes makes him careless though both should be coarse, a
fault which we find here, and of which Fletcher is not guilty.
[Sidenote: His bold coinages of words:] Here also are more than one of
those bold coinages of words, forced on a mind for whose force of
conception common terms were too weak.
[Sidenote: to _urn_ ashes;]
[Sidenote: to _chapel_ bones.]
_1 Queen._ We are three queens, whose sovrans fell before
The wrath of cruel Creon; who endured
The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites,
And pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes.
He will not suffer us to burn their bones,
To _urn_ their ashes, nor to take the offence
Of mortal loathesomeness from the blest eye
Of holy Phoebus, but infects the air
With stench of our slain lords. Oh, pity, Duke!
Thou purger[29:2] of the earth! draw thy fear'd sword,
That does good turns i' the world: give us the bones
Of our dead kings, that we may _chapel_ them!
And, of thy boundless goodness, take some note,
That for our crowned heads we have no roof
Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's,
And vault to every thing.
[Sidenote: Shakspere reflective.]
We now begin to trace more and more that reflecting tendency which is so
deeply imprinted on Shakspeare's writings:--
_Theseus._ . . . . .
King Capanëus[29:3] was your lord: the day
That he should marry you, at such a seas|on
As it is now with me, I met your groom
By Mars's altar. You were that time fair;
Not Juno's mantle fairer than your tress|es,
Nor in more bounty spread: your wheaten wreath
Was then nor threshed nor blast|ed |: Fortune, at you,
Dimpled her cheek with smiles: Hercules our kins|man
(Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club,--
He tumbled down upon his Némean hide,
[30:1]And swore his sinews thawed. O, Grief and Time,
Fearful consumers, you will all devour!
_1 Queen._ Oh, I hope some god,
Some god hath put his mercy in your man|hood,
Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth,
Our undertaker!
_Theseus._ Oh, no knees; none, wid|ow!
Unto the helmeted Bellona use | them,
And pray for me, your sol|dier.|--Troubled I am.
(_Turns away._)
[Sidenote: A Shakspere fancy.]
[Sidenote: A Shakspere simile.]
_2 Queen._ Honoured Hippolita, ...
... dear _glass of la|dies_!
Bid him, that we, whom flaming war hath scorch'd,
Under the shadow of his sword may cool us.
Require him, he advance it o'er our heads;
Speak it in a woman's key[30:2], like such a wom|an
As any of us three: weep ere you fail;
Lend us a knee;--
But touch the ground for us no longer time
_Than a dove's motion when the head's pluckt off_:
Tell him, if he i' the blood-siz'd field lay swol|len,
Shewing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon,
What you would do!
. . . . .
_Emilia._ Pray stand up;
Your grief is written on your cheek.
[Sidenote: Shakspere.]
_3 Queen._ Oh, woe!
You cannot read it there: there,[30:3] through my tears,
Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,
You may behold it. Lady, lady, alack!
He that will all the treasure know o' the earth,
Must know the centre too: he that will fish
For my least minnow, let him lead his line
To catch one at my heart. Oh, pardon me!
Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,
Makes me a fool.
_Emilia._ Pray you, say nothing; pray | you!
Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in't,
Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were
The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy | you,
To instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed;
(Such heart-pierced demonstration;) but, alas!
Being a natural sister of our sex,
Your sorrow beats so ardently upon | me,
That it shall make a counter-reflect against
My brother's heart, and warm it to some pit|y,
Though it were made of stone: Pray have good com|fort!
[Sidenote: Shakspere simile,]
. . . . .
[31:1]_1 Queen._ (_To Theseus._) ... Remember that your fame
Knolls in the ear o' the world: what you do quickl|y,
Is not done rashly; your first thought, is more
Than others' labour'd meditance; your premed|itating,
More than their actions: but, (oh, Jove!) your ac|tions,
Soon as they move, _as ospreys do the fish_,
Subdue before they touch. Think, dear duke, think
What beds our slain kings have!
[Sidenote: metaphor.]
_2 Queen._ What griefs, our beds,
That our slain kings have none.
Theseus is moved by their prayers, but, loth to leave the side of his
newly wedded spouse, contents himself with directing his chief captain
to lead the Athenian army against the tyrant. The queens redouble their
entreaties for his personal aid.
[Sidenote: Shakspere personification.]
_2 Queen._ We come unseasonably; but when could Grief
Cull out, as _unpang'd Judgment_ can, fitt'st time
For best solicitation!
_Theseus._ Why, good la|dies,
This is a service whereto I am go|ing,
Greater than any war: it more imports | me
Than all the actions that I have foregone,
Or futurely can cope.
[Sidenote: Shakspere metaphor, force.]
_1 Queen._ The more proclaim|ing
Our suit shall be neglected. When her arms,
Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall
By warranting moonlight _corslet_ thee,--oh, when
Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall
Upon thy tasteful lips,--what wilt thou think
Of rotten kings or blubberd queens? what care,
For what thou feel'st not; what thou feel'st, being a|ble
To make Mars spurn his drum?--Oh, if thou couch
But one night with her, every hour in't will
Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and
Thou shall remember nothing more than what
That banquet bids thee to.
. . . . .
_Theseus._ Pray stand up:
I am entreating of myself to do
That which you kneel to have me. Perithous!
Lead on the bride! Get you, and pray the gods
For success and return; omit not any thing
In the pretended celebration. Queens!
Follow your soldier....
... [32:1](_To Hippolita._) Since that our theme is haste,
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip:
Sweet, keep it as my token!...
[Sidenote: Shakspere metaphor.]
_1 Queen._ Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o' the world.
_2 Queen._ And earn'st a deity equal with Mars.
[Sidenote: Shakspere.]
_3 Queen._ If not above him; for
Thou, being but mortal, mak'st affections bend
To godlike honours; _they themselves, some say,
Groan under such a mas|tery_.|
_Theseus._ As we are men,
Thus should we do: being sensually subdued,
We lose our human title. Good cheer, la|dies!
Now turn we towards your comforts. (_Exeunt._)
[Sidenote: Act I. scene ii.]
The second scene introduces the heroes of the piece, Palamon and Arcite.
They are two youths of the blood-royal of Thebes, who follow the banners
of their sovereign with a sense that obedience is their duty, but under
a sorrowful conviction that his cause is unjust, and their country
rotten at the core. The scene is a dialogue between them, occupied in
lamentations and repinings over the dissolute manners of their native
Thebes. [Sidenote: has the characteristics of Shakspere.] Its broken
versification points out Shakspeare; the quaintness of some conceits is
his; and several of the phrases and images have much of his pointedness,
brevity, or obscurity. The scene, though not lofty in tone, does not
want interest, and contains some extremely original illustrations. But
quotations will be multiplied abundantly before we have done; and their
number must not be increased by the admission of any which are not
either unusually good or very distinctly characteristic of their author.
Some lines of the scene have been already given.
[Sidenote: Act I. scene iii.]
The third scene has the farewell commendations of the young Emilia and
her sister to Perithous, when he sets out to join Theseus, then before
the Theban walls, and a subsequent conversation of the two ladies.
[Sidenote: is probably all Shakspere's.] Much of this scene has
Shakspeare's stamp deeply cut upon it: it is probably all his. [Sidenote: