to love. We see, then, how thin is the partition between the highest and the lowliest parts of our nature-and we love Richard even for his faults, for they are those of our common humanity. Inferior poets might have given us Bolingbroke the lordly tyrant, and Richard the fallen hero. We might have had the struggle for the kingdom painted with all the glowing colours with which, according to the authorities which once governed opinion, a poet was bound to represent the crimes of an usurper and the virtues of a legitimate king; or, if the poet had despised the usual current of authority, he might have made the usurper one who had cast aside all selfish and unpatriotic principles, and the legitimate king an unmitigated oppressor, whose fall would have been hailed as the triumph of injured humanity. Impartial Shakspere! How many of the deepest lessons of toleration and justice have we not learned from thy wisdom, in combination with thy power! If the power of thy poetry could have been separated from the truth of thy philosophy, how much would the world have still wanted to help it forward in the course of gentleness and peace! CHAPTER II. KING HENRY IV. SHAKSPERE found the stage in possession | throats,—when we see him, not seduced from of a rude drama, 'The Famous Victories of Henry V.,' upon the foundation of which he constructed not only his two Parts of 'Henry IV.,' but his 'Henry V.'* That old play was acted prior to 1588; Tarleton, a celebrated comic actor, who played the clown in it, having died in that year. It is, in many respects, satisfactory that this very extraordinary performance has been preserved. None of the old dramas exhibit in a more striking light the marvellous reformation which Shakspere, more than all his contemporaries, produced in the dramatic amusements of the age of Elizabeth. It is to this rude drama (of which we have previously given a slight analysis) that the student of Shakspere must refer, to learn what the popular notion of the conqueror of Agincourt was at the period when Shakspere began to write, and, perhaps, indeed, up to the time when he gave us his own idea of Henry of Monmouth. When we have seen that, for some ten years at least, the Henry of the stage was an ill-bred unredeemed blackguard, without a single sparkle of a "better hope," surrounded by companions of the very lowest habits, thieves and cut*See Book I. chap. v. page 19. the gravity of his station by an irrepressible love of fun, kept alive by the wit of his principal associate, but given up only to drinking and debauchery, to throwing of pots, and brawls in the streets,-when we see not a single gleam of that “sun,” "Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world;"— and when we know that nearly all the historians up to the time of Shakspere took pretty much the same view of Henry's character,—we may, perhaps, be astonished to be told that Shakspere's fascinating representation of Henry of Monmouth, as an historical portrait, is not only unlike the original, but misleading and unjust in essential points of character."+ Misleading and unjust! We admire, and even honour, Mr. Tyler's enthusiasm in the vindication of his favourite hero from every charge of early impurity. In the nature of things it was impossible that Henry of Monmouth,-in many particulars so far above his age, in literature, in accomplishments, in real magnanimity of character,-should have been the Henry of Monmouth,' by J. Endell Tyler, B.D., vol. i. p. 356. V., who wrote his Life, distinctly tells us of his passing the bounds of modesty, and, "when not engaged in military exercises, he also indulged in other excesses which unrestrained youth is apt to fall into." Of Henry's sudden conversion this author also tells the story; and he dates it from his father's deathbed. Otterburn, another contemporary of Henry, gives us also the story of his sudden conversion :-"repentè mutatus est in virum alterum." Hardyng, another contemporary, and an adherent of the house of Lancaster, says— low profligate which nearly all the ancient | is not incompatible with the higher poetical historians represent him to have been. But truth of his own conceptions. Now, what Mr. Tyler, instead of blaming Shakspere for says Holinshed about Henry V.?" After the view which he took of Henry's character that he was invested king, and had received -instead of calling upon us 66 to allow it no the crown, he determined with himself to weight in the scale of evidence;"-instead put upon him the shape of a new man, turnof informing us that the poet's descriptions ing insolency and wildness into gravity and are “wholly untenable when tested by facts, soberness. And whereas he had passed his and irreconcileable with what history places youth in wanton pastime and riotous misbeyond doubt;"”—instead of attempting to order, with a sort of misgoverned mates and shake our belief in Shakspere's general truth, | unthrifty playfeers, he now banished them by minute comparisons of particular passages from his presence.' Holinshed wrote this with real dates, trying the poet by a test al- | in 1557; but did he invent this character? together out of the province of poetry;-in- | Thomas Elmham, a contemporary of Henry stead of telling us that the great dramatist's imagination worked “only on the vague traditions of a sudden change for the better in the prince, immediately on his accession;" instead of all this, Mr. Tyler ought to have called our attention to the fact that Shakspere was the only man of his age who rejected the imperfect evidence of all the historians as to the character of Henry of Monmouth, and nobly vindicated him even from his own biographers, and, what was of more importance, from the coarser traditions embodied in a popular drama of Shakspere's own day. It is not our business to enter into a discussion whether the early life of Henry was entirely blameless, as Mr. Tyler would prove. This is a question which, as far as an editor of Shakspere is concerned, may be classed with a somewhat similar question of the character of Richard III., as argued in Walpole's 'Historic Doubts.' But the real question for us to consider is this, what were the opinions of all the historians up to Shakspere's own time? Mr. Tyler himself says, "Before Shakspere's day, the reports adopted by our historiographers had fully justified him in his representations of Henry's early courses." But we contend that Shakspere did not rest upon the historiographers; he did not give credence to the vulgar traditions; he did not believe in the story of Henry's sudden conversion; he did not make him the low profligate of the old play, or of the older Chronicles. We are very much accustomed to say, speaking of Shakspere's historical plays, that he follows Holinshed. He does so, indeed, when the truth of the historian "The hour he was crowned and anoint He changed was of all his old condition;" or, as he says in the argument to this chapter of his Chronicle, "he was changed from all vices unto virtuous life." Walsingham, a fourth contemporary, speaking of a heavy fall of snow on the 9th of April, the day of his coronation, says, "that some interpreted this unseasonable weather to be a happy omen; as if he would cause the snow and frost of vices to fall away in his reign, and the serene fruit of virtues to spring up; that it might be truly said by his subjects, 'Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.' Who, indeed, as soon as he was invested with the ensigns of royalty, was suddenly changed into a new man, behaving with propriety, modesty, and gravity, and showing a desire to practise every kind of virtue." There is a ballad of Henry IV.'s time addressed to Prince Henry and his brothers, to dissuade them from spending time in "youthed folily." Caxton, never Hydra-headed wilfulness So soon did lose his seat, and all at once, But the prince, in the very first scene in "I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyoked humour of your idleness." Even in the 'Richard II.,' when Henry IV. speaks of his "unthrifty son," we are prepared, not for the coarse profligate of the old play, but for a high-couraged and reckless who wrote in the time of Edward IV., says, | has been to make the common tradition of "Here is to be noted that the King Henry Henry's almost miraculous conversion rest V. was a noble prince after he was king and only upon the opinion of others. The archcrowned; howbeit before in his youth he had bishop indeed says,— been wild, reckless, and spared nothing of his lusts nor desires, but accomplished them after his liking." Fabyan is even more severe :"This man before the death of his father applied himself to all vice and insolency." The story of Henry insulting the Lord Chief Justice, and being by him committed to prison, was first told by Sir Thomas Elyot, in 1534, in his book entitled 'The Governor:' and he sets out by saying, "The most renowned prince King Henry V., late King of England, during the life of his father was noted to be fierce and of wanton courage." His servant, according to this story, was arraigned for felony, and the prince, "incensed by light persons about him, in furious rage came hastily to the bar." According to Sir Thomas Elyot, the prince did not strike the judge; but, being "set all in a fury, all chafed, in a terrible manner came up to the place of judgment, men thinking that he would have slain the judge." Holinshed makes the blow to have been inflicted. Stow, whose Chronicle was published in 1580, gives us a much more natural version of the prince's robberies than that of the old play :-he makes them to have been wanton frolics, followed by restitution. Lastly, Hall collects and repeats all the charges against Henry of the earlier historians. In a word, there is not one solitary writer up to the time of Shakspere that entertained any doubt that "His addiction was to courses vain; His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow; His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports." This passage in 'Henry V.,' which is introduced by the archbishop to heighten his praises of the king by contrast with his former state, is the severest passage which Shakspere has against the early character of the prince. It is stronger than his father's reproof, in the third act of the First Part. But where is the "insolency" of Holinshed -the "all vices" of Hardyng-the "spared nothing of his lusts and desires" of Caxton? Let it be observed, too, how careful Shakspere boy, offending in the very wantonness of his "As dissolute as desperate; yet, through both, "that daff'd the world aside," but he is not the "sword and buckler prince of Wales," that Hotspur would have "poisoned with a pot of ale." He is a gentleman; a companion, indeed, of loose revellers, but one who infinitely prefers the excitement of their wit to their dissipation. How graceful too, and how utterly devoid of meanness and hypocrisy, is his apology to his father for his faults! How gallantly he passes from the revels at the Boar's Head to the preparations for the battle-field! How just are his praises of Hotspur! How modest his challenge!— "I have a truant been to chivalry." What a key to his real kindness of heart and good nature is his apostrophe to Falstaff:— "Poor Jack, farewell! I could have better spared a better man!" How magnanimous is his pleading for the life of the Douglas! Never throughout the two plays is there a single expression of un filial feeling towards his father. "My heart bleeds inwardly," says the Prince of Shakspere, "that my father is so sick." The low profligate of the old play says, "I stand upon thorns till the crown be on my head." The king's description of his son in Shakspere is truly in accordance with the poet's delineation of his character: "He hath a tear for pity, and a hand And yet, according to Mr. Tyler, Shakspere has done injustice to Henry of Monmouth. When in Richard II.' Bolingbroke speaks of his "unthrifty son," Mr. Tyler informs us that the boy was only twelve years and a half old. "At the very time," says Mr. Tyler, "when, according to the poet's representation, Henry IV. uttered this lamentation (Part I., Act I. Scene 1), expressive of deep present sorrow at the reckless misdoings of his son, and of anticipations of worse, that very son was doing his duty valiantly and mercifully in Wales." Again, according to Mr. Tyler, the noble scene between Henry and his father in the third act of the First Part was not the real truth-Henry was not then in London;— and from a letter of Henry to his council we find that the king had received "most satisfactory accounts of his very dear and wellbeloved son the prince, which gave him very great pleasure.” Mr. Tyler remarks upon this letter, “It is as though history were designed on set purpose, and by especial commission, to counteract the bewitching fictions of the poet." For our own parts, we have a love of Henry as Shakspere evidently himself had; but we have derived that love more from "the bewitching fictions" of the poet, than from what we learn from history apart from the poet. With every respect for Mr. Tyler's excellent intentions, we are inclined to think that Shakspere has elevated the character of Henry, not only far above the calumnies of the old Chroniclers, which, we believe, were gross exaggerations, but has painted him much more amiable, and just, and merciful than we find him in the original documents which Mr. Tyler has rendered popular. Mr. * * * * * * there we burnt a fine lodge in his park, and * * * * the whole country around. And certain of our people sallied forth, and took a gentleman of high degree he was put to death; and several of his companions, who were taken the same day, met with the same fate. We then proceeded to the commote of Edionyon, in Merionethshire, and there laid waste a fine and populous country." Our tastes may be wrong; but we would rather hold in our affections "the madcap prince of Wales" at the Boar's Head, "of all humours, that have showed themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam," than adulterate the poetical idea with the documentary history of a precocious boy, burning, wasting, and slaying; or, as Mr. Tyler says, "doing his duty valiantly." There is sometimes a higher truth even than documentary truth. The burnings and slayings of Henry of Monmouth must be judged of according to the spirit of his age. Had the great dramatist represented these things, he would, indeed, have done injustice to Henry in his individual character. We believe that he most wisely vindicated his hero from the written and traditionary calumnies that had gathered round his name, not by showing him, as he did Prince John of Lancaster, a "sober-blooded boy," but by divesting his dissipation of the grossness which up to his time had surrounded it; and by exhibiting the misdirected energy of an acute and active mind, instead of the violent excesses and the fierce passions that had anciently been attributed to him. The praiseworthy attempt of Mr. Tyler to prove that there was no solid historical ground for Henry's early profligacy is founded upon a very ingenious treatise, full of antiquarian research, by Mr. Alexander Luders*. That gentleman, as it appears to *An Essay on the Character of Henry V. when Prince of Wales.' 1813. us, has left the question pretty much where | and 'Richard II.'). It is only an historical he found it. He has, however, taken a right picture, the various circumstances of which view of what our poet did for the character have no relation amongst themselves. There of Henry: "Shakspere seemed to struggle is no personage who predominates over the against believing the current stories of mis- others, so as to fix the attention of the audiconduct as much as he could, that he might ence. It is the anarchy of the Scene. What, not let the prince down to their level." however, renders it worthy an attentive examination is its division into a tragic and a comic portion. The two species are here very distinct. The tragic portion is cold, disjointed, undecided; but the comic, although absolutely foreign to the shadow of the action which makes the subject of the piece, merits sometimes to be placed by the side of the better passages of the Regnards, and even of the Molières." This is pretty decided for a blockhead; and, indeed, the decision with which he speaks could only proceed from a blockhead par excellence. Had this Frenchman not been supremely dull and conceited, he would have had some glimmerings of the truth, though he might not have seen the whole truth. Our own Johnson had too strong a sympathy with the marvellous talent which runs through the scenes of the Henry IV.' not to speak of these plays with more than common enthusiasm. The great events, he says, are interesting; the slighter occurrences diverting; the characters diversified with the profoundest skill; Falstaff is the unimitated, unimitable. But now comes the qualification-the result of Johnson looking at the parts instead of the whole:-“I fancy every reader, when he ends this play, cries out with Desdemona, 'O most lame and impotent conclusion!' As this play was not, to our knowledge, divided into acts by the author, I could be content to conclude it with the death of Henry the Fourth." Let us endeavour, in going through the scenes of these plays, with the help of the great guiding principle that Shakspere “worked in the spirit of nature by evolving the germ from within, by the imaginative power according to an idea;"-let us endeavour to prove-not, indeed, that these plays do not want action and interest, and that the tragic parts are not cold, disjointed, and undecided -but that all the circumstances have relation amongst themselves, and that the comic Coleridge's Literary Remains,' vol. i. p. 104. "In the Shaksperean drama there is a vitality which grows and evolves itself from within—a key-note which guides and controls the harmonies throughout."* It is under the direction of a deep and absolute conviction of the truth of this principle not only as applied to the masterpieces of Shakspere, the Lear,' the 'Macbeth,' the 'Othello,' but to all his works without exception-that we can alone presume to understand any single drama of this poet-much less to attempt to lead the judgment of others. Until by long and patient thought we believe that we have traced the roots, and seen the branches and buddings, of that "vitality". until by frequent listening to those "harmonies" we hear, or fancy we hear, that "key-note"—we hold ourselves to be utterly unfitted even to call attention to a solitary poetical beauty, or to develope the peculiarities of a single character. Shakspere is not to be taken up like an ordinary writer of fiction, whose excellence may be tested by a brilliant dialogue here, or a striking situation there. The proper object of criticism upon Shakspere is to show the dependence of the parts upon the whole; for by that principle alone can we come to a due appreciation even of the separate parts. Dull critics, and brilliant critics, equally blunder about Shakspere, when they reject this safe guide to the comprehension of his works. We have a Frenchman before us-] s—M. Paul Duport-who gives us an 'Analyse Raisonnée' of our poet, which is perfectly guiltless of any imaginative power to hide or adorn the dry bones of the Analysist. Mark the confidence with which this gentleman speaks of the two plays before us! Of the first part he says, "This piece has still less of action and interest than those which preceded it-('John,' * Coleridge's 'Literary Remains,' vol. i. p. 104. 'Essais Littéraires sur Shakspeare,' 2 tom. Paris, 1828. |