CORNELL UNIVERSKY LIBRARY 3 1924 080 785 391 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924080785391 In compliance with current copyright law, Cornell University Library produced this replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.48-1992 to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. 1997 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE is 'Math is g«iricat«ir, WITH SINCERE REGARD, TO SIR WILLIAM ST. JAMES WHEELHOUSE. With the fUHLiancno COMPLIMEHTS. THOUGHTS ON SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS HON. ALBERT S. G. CANNING AUTHOR OF " MACAULAY, ESSAYIST AND HISTORIAN," " PHILOSOPHY OF DICKENS," ETC. ETC.. LONDON: W. H. ALLEN & CO. 13, WATERLOO PLACE. t'ALL MALL . S.W. CONTENTS. — CHAPTER I. PAGE Julius Caesar . . i CHAPTER II. Antony and Cleopatra . ii CHAPTER III. Macbeth . . 31 CHAPTER IV. King John 52 CHAPTER V. King Richard II. . .... .71 CHAPTER VI. King Henry IV. (First Part) ... . . ico CHAPTER VII. King Henry IV. (Second Part) ... ... 129 CHAPTER VIII. King Henry V. 156 CHAPTER IX. King Henry VI. (First Part) 167 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. PAGE King Henry VI. (Second Part) . . . . .179 CHAPTER XI. King Henry VI. (Third Part) 196 CHAPTER XII. King Richard III 217 CHAPTER XIII. King Henry VIII . .268 WORKS REFERRED TO. Bacon, Lord, Essays and Life of Henry VIL Boz, Sketches by. Brewer's English Studies. Buckle's History of Civilization. Courtenay's Commentaries on Shakespeare's Historical Plays. Dowden, Professor, Shakespeare's Mind and Art. Draper's Intellectual Development of Europe. Froude, J. A., Reign of Henry VIII. Fumivall's Introduction to the Royal Shakspere. Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Green's History of the English People. Guizot, M., Shakespeare and his Times. Hallam's Literary History of Europe. „ Middle Ages. „ Constitutional History of England. Hume's History of England. Jameson, Mrs., Characteristics of Women. Johnson, Dr. S., Preface and Notes to Shakespeare. Knight, C, Notes to Shakspere. Lecky, W. H., History of Rationalism. Lingard's History of England. Macaulay, Lord, History of England. Machiavelli — Essay on " The Prince." Merivale's Romans under the Empire. More, Sir Thomas, Life of Richard III. Napoleon III.'s Life of Julius Csesar. Plutarch's Lives. Staunton, Howard, Notes to the Illustrated Shakespeare. Scott, Sir Walter, History of Scotland. „ Waverley Novels. Stephens, Sir James, History of the English Criminal Law. Student's History of P>.ome. Suetonius — Lives of the Caesars. Stubbs, Professor, Constitutional History of England. Schlegel's Essays on Shakespeare. Wordsworth, Bishop, Notes to Shakespeare's Historical Plays. ERRATUM. In "Sketch" before "Macbeth" Donalbain should have been described as escaping to Ireland instead of to England, and there is no mention in the play of his return to Scotland. THOUGHTS ON SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. CHAPTER I. JULIUS C^SAR. Sketch of Play. This play does not describe any of Caesar's extensive and wonderful foreign conquests. It begins in Rome, whither he returns after his victorious campaigns to be congratulated, applauded, and praised by his fellow-countrymen, many of whom wish to make him sole Ruler. He is offered the imperial crown, amid general acclamation ; but two dis- tinguished Romans, Brutus and Cassius — both sincere republicans — form a conspiracy, and eventually murder him. They are mistaken, however, in expecting general approval ; for the army, together with many Roman citizens, under Octavius Caesar and Mark Antony, the young nephew and middle-aged lieutenant of Julius Caesar, declare war against the republicans, headed by Brutus and Cassius, and defeat them at Philippi. The Roman empire then fell nominally under the rule of Triumvirs, Octavius Caesar (afterwards Augustus the sovereign, and patron of Horace and Virgil), Lepidus, a man of little ability or influence, and the warlike Antony. The latter, an able general, very popular with the army, was probably the most powerful of the three for some time after their joint victory. Brutus and Cassius commit suicide immediately after their defeat. The celebrated orator Cicero, who, though on the side of Brutus, took little part in the war, was executed soon after it by Antony or his followers ; but, though he is introduced, his fate is not recorded by Shakespeare, who ends this play immediately upon the triumph of Octavius and Antony. B I 2 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. In his Roman plays Shakespeare chiefly relied on the authority of Plutarch.* This writer, like most who have described Julius Csesar, represents him as one of the greatest men the world has ever seen.-f- Both in foreign conquests and in his government of Rome, as well as by his writings, the wonderful power of his mind, the vigour of his intellect, and the variety of his acquirements were proved unmis- takably. Even in the present century, his long recorded merits have been praised by able men of totally different characters, positions, and motives from each other. Macaulay compares him favourably to both Cromwell and the first Napoleon, declaring that to their high qualities Csesar united a learning and refinement which they never possessed,]: while the Emperor Napoleon the Third calls him the greatest of all kings,§ praising him more in the style of an ardent admirer than impartial biographer.l| A yet more recent writer declares that Caesar's occasional cruelty was not owing to his disposition, but to the circumstances and to the age in which he lived.lT Seldom, indeed, has any one man possessed so many great qualities as Csesar, combined with an amount of knowledge perfectly amazing, considering his opportuni- ties of acquisition. His Commentaries alone display the taste of the naturalist, botanist, and traveller, as well as the genius of an almost unrivalled general.** Thus, in his career, the spirit of civilization, as far as could be known by a Pagan, seemed to accompany his victories.tf * Dowden's 5'/«a&j/m;r.- His Mind and Art. t " He was as skilful in governing men's passions as in conducting affairs. And as lie was well versed in war of all kinds, and as he joined civil and military arts together, nothing could come so suddenly upon him, but he had an expedient ready for it ; nothing so adverse, but he drew some advantage from it." — Bacon's £ssay onjuliiis CcEsar. X Essay on Hallam. § Life of Ccssar, vol. i. II In the preface, " written entirely by himself" — B. Jerrold'.? Life of Napoleon the Third, vol. iv. — the Emperor, whose object was to glorify his uncle's memory as well as Csesar's, writing in exaggerated language, says — " When Providence raises up such men as Csesar, Charlemagne, and Napoleon, it is to trace out to peoples the paths they ought to follow ; to stamp with the seal of their genius a new era ; and to accomplish in a few years the work of many centuries. Happy the peoples who comprehend and follow them ! Woe to those who misunderstand and combat them ! They do as the Jews did, they crucify their Messiah," &c. U "Suicide was with them — the Romans — the common mode of avoiding otherwise inevitable misfortune, and it was natural that men who made light of their own lives should also make light of the lives of others." — Trollope's Julius Ccesar : Ancient Classics. This fact should always be remembered by readers of Shakespeare's Roman plays, as well as by students of classical history. ** This wonderful man was distinguished as "a soldier, statesman, lawgiver, orator, poet, historian, grammarian, mathematician, and architect." — Meri vale's Romans tinder the Empire, vol. ii. tt " When he handled the pen he was guided by the self-same principles sis when he wielded the sword, directing his attention uninterruptedly to one sole JULIUS C^SAR. 3 Yet Shakespeare makes very slight allusion to his many conquests and foreign triumphs.* His sketch of him is only during the last days of his eventful life, when, at Rome, his admiring countrymen wished to make him sole and absolute Ruler. Still, many of the best educated and respected Romans, amid whom Cicero was conspicuous, opposed his power, wishing to retain and strengthen the Republican Government. To a man of Julius Caesar's patriotic mind and civilized ideas, it was, doubtless, a grievous disappointment to perceive so many superior men among his foes, and to rely chiefly upon a reckless profligate soldier like Antony as his principal adherent. iNo men in the Empire desired its welfare more thoroughly than he, his nephew Octavius, the orator Cicero, and the young enthusiast Brutus. But unfortunately, these leaders — so gifted, talented, and noble-minded in their different ways — were completely opposed to each other by their different plans and schemes for their common country's prosperity. The result was that they alike sought assistance, support, and counsel from associates, utterly below them in moral worth and sincere patriotism. -f-J The real hero of this play, according to English, French, and German commentators,| is the young Republican Brutus. Yet even Shakespeare cannot make him justify Caesar's assassination. For Brutus is deceived by his older associate Cassius, and fancies that Caesar's becoming Emperor is dis- approved by most of his fellow-countrymen. Cassius, accordingly, has the art, or rather the baseness, to send anonymous letters to Brutus, inciting him to revolution ; though Plutarch, whom Shakespeare chiefly follows, does not attribute these letters solely to Cassius,§ and this deceit is not mentioned by some other Roman historians ; but it object, and to it making all else subservient. As a writer, then, the Roman, when judged by the productions of others under similar circumstances, is still Csesar the Invincible." — F. Schlegel's History of Literalui-e. * "The CjEsar of the play is not the great conqueror of Britain, but Cfesar old, decaying, failing both in health and mind." — Furnivall's Introduction to the Royal Shakespeare. + " The misfortunes of the times obliged the most notable men to have deal- ings with those whose antecedents seemed to devote them to contempt In times of transition, when a choice must be made between a glorious past and an unknown future, the rock is that bold unscrupulous men alone thrust them- selves forward. Czesar had recourse to agents who were but little estimated ; but his constant endeavour was to associate to himself the most trustworthy men, and he spared no effort to gain by turns Pompey, Cicero, &c., &c." — Napoleon THE Third's Life of Julius C/zsar, vol. i. chap. ii. "The army and the people generally approved his sole authority." — Meri vale's Romans utider the Empire, vol. ii. J C. Knight, Furnivall, Guizot, and Schlegel. § Z.ife of Brutus. K 2 4 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. accords v/ith the cunning, crafty spirit attributed to Cassius in the play. Comparatively the imaginative, generous nature of Brutus appears to great advantage, and he refuses to assassinate Antony, which Cassius urges and even entreats him to attempt. Having failed to incite Brutus to commit this crime, Cassius tries to bribe Antony by offering him power and in- fluence in the new Republic, while Brutus, with calm dignity, solicits his alliance in manly terms : — Cassius to Antony. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's In the disposing of new dignities. — Act. III. Yet Cassius in this and other instances shows far more know- ledge of human nature, as well as Roman politics, than Brutus possesses. Antony's murder was precisely the act most requisite, after Cesar's death, to confirm the strength of the new Republic. Cicero's brilliant genius would then have been gladly devoted to ardent praise of the new government, and he would have assailed Antony's memory as vehemently and far more safely than when reviling him while the latter was heading a devoted army. Such was the persuasive power of his charming eloquence that, perhaps, only a minority of personally attached soldiers would, in that case, have much regretted the death of Antony. Though Cicero's influence and talents were often, perhaps usually, devoted to upholding right and denouncing wrong, his eloquent enthu- siasm was not incapable of making "the worse appear the better reason."* Brutus, however, living in a world of imagination, makes a generous, yet, politically, foolish reply to Cassius, in which he reveals both his ignorance of Antony's character and of his own fellow-countrymen — Brutus. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the head off and then hack the limbs ; And for Mark Antony, think not of him, For he can do no- more than Caesar's arm When Caesar's head is off. — Act II. Scene I. Shakespeare, indeed, makes Brutus anticipate Antony's suicide, or untimely death, with pleasure, which seems incon- sistent with his kindly, generous nature. This is apparently the poet's own idea, for it is not attributed to Brutus by Plutarch or by other classic writers. * Plutarch states that Cicero had no share in the conspiracy against Cresar, (hough a friend of Brutus ; that he exhorted the Senate to grant an amnesty to all concerned in Caesar's murder ; and to decree provinces to Brutus and Cassius ; but "none of these things took effect." — Life of Citero. The hatred between him and Anlony is mentioned by most historical \\'riters. JULIUS C^SAR. 5 If he love Caesar, all that he can do Is to himself take thought, and die for Caesar ; And 'twere much he should, for he is given To sports, to wildness, and much company. — Act II. Scene I. Previous to Caesar's death, the Roman empire apparently- possessed, both in distinguished men as in military powder and resources, almost every requisite for worldly grandeur, strength, and prosperity. But when he disappeared from Rome, the talents, feelings, and passions of her greatest men were turned in deadly hatred against each other.* Brutus, in earnest, dignified, even pathetic words, deplores Caesar's fate and his share in it to a crowd of his fellow- citizens, few, indeed, of whom shared, or, perhaps, under- stood, his peculiar character and feelings. Probably had Cicero vindicated Caesar's murder directly after its occur- rence, he would have made a much stronger impression on the Roman mind. He knew his countrymen far better than Brutus did, and for years had watched the effect which his wonderful eloquence usually produced. He was, also, older, far more known, and in every respect better fitted, if not to justify, at least to palliate the deed. Shakespeare makes Brutus reject the advice of Cassius and others, inviting Cicero's co-operation ; but Plutarch does not mention this circumstance. The conspirators truly think that Cicero's judgment, age, and influence would assist their enterprise, and, apparently, make sure of his alliance ; but the young revolutionist makes an impetuous, almost insolent reply, con- sidering Cicero's position and character at Rome. Cassius. But what of Cicero ? Shall we sound him ? I think he will stand very strong with us. Casca. Let us not leave him out. CiNNA. No, by no means. Metellus Cimber. O, let us have him ; for his silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinion, And buy men's voices to commend our deeds. It shall be said his judgment ruled our hands ; Our youths, our wildness shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his gravity. * "The death of Julius Cscsar was soon followed by the final termination of the contest between the Republican and Monarchical principle. Shakespeare saw the grandeur of the crisis, and he seized upon it for one of his lofty expositions of political philosophy. He has treated it as no other poet could have treated it, because he saw the exact relations of the contending principles to the future great history of mankind." — CHARLES Kkight's Edition of ^liak- sperc. 6 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. Brutus. O, name him not, let us not break with hira, For he will never follow anything That other men begin. — Act II. Scene I. Brutus himself, however, makes a speech, which, though eloquent, rather resembles a soliloquy ; expressing, doubt- less, his own feelings accurately, but little fitted to influence the majority of his hearers. Brutus. If there be any in this assembly — any dear friend of Caesar's — to him I say, that Brutus' love to C^sar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer — not that I loved Cssar less ; but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cassar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead to live all freemen ? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honour him ; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour, and death for his ambition.* — Act III. Scene II. Accordingly, Antony's splendid speech, combining real feeling with thorough knowledge of the Romans, destroys whatever impression Brutus' former speech may have made. Antony. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious. It it was so, it was a grievous fault ; And grievously hath Cssar answered it. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill. Did this, in Casar seem ambitious ? When that the poor have cried, Cassar hath wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honourable man. He also showed Caesar's will to the people, leaving money and granting public gardens to them. Antony. Here is the will, and under Cassar's seal. To every Roman citizen he gives. To every single man he gives, seventy-five drachmas. Citizens. Most noble Caesar ! — we'll revenge his death. But when Antony declares that Csesar has left all his * " The speech of Bnitus is unable to raise any enthusiasm among his hearers for liberty or an ideal of justice. The people require a Cassar. The political idealist — Brutus— adds another lo his series of fatal miscalculations." — Dowden's Shakespeare : His Mind and Art. JULIUS C^SAR. 7 " walks, private arbours, and new planted orchards " for public enjoyment, the delighted, grateful Romans declare they will burn the traitors' houses ; and the successful orator exclaims in secret triumph — Now let it work ! — Mischief, thou art afoot ; Take thou what course thou wilt. — Act III. Scene II. At this news the people are as overjoyed as grateful children justly rewarded for good conduct. Cicero, remem- bering the former glories of Roman Republicanism, would likely have protested against any gratitude towards a general whose testamentary gifts to a free people could never atone for previous usurpation of rights which should have been inalienable. But Antony's skilful, affecting, yet thoroughly practical speech, succeeded as completely as he could have wished ; and Shakespeare's poetical version is apparently confirmed by both Plutarch and Suetonius. Yet Shake- speare passes, almost immediately after Caesar's death, to the war between his slayers and avengers ; though history* says that Octavius, nephew and heir of Julius Csesar, at first opposed Antony, and was allied with Cicero, who vehemently denounced the latter to the Roman people. This alliance between young Octavius and Cicero did not last long, and was, perhaps, never thoroughly sincere. The strong attach- ment of Antony to the Csesar family apparently effected a complete reconciliation between the loyal general of the great Julius and his acknowledged heir, who, though only eighteen at this time, already showed signs of that great sagacity, self-control, and resolution which finally made him one of the ablest of the Roman Emperors. The majority of the people, who had almost deified Julius, rallied round Antony and Octavius, who were soon allied ; and the Re- publicans, under Brutus and Cassius, were utterly routed by them at Philippi. Previous to this decisive battle, Shakespeare describes the celebrated quarrel and reconciliation between Brutus and Cassius, one of the most favourite passages for modern declamation. Brutus reproaches Cassius for withholding money which should have been devoted to the Republican cause. This accusation Cassius vehemently repels, and at last, after a violent scene, Brutus believes him, and they art reconciled. A common danger now threatens both, and forces these men, though of such different characters, into a bond of close union. Cicero, their most illustrious ally, had been executed previously by Antony or his followers ; but • Tacitus, Suetonius, and Student's History of Rome. 8 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. these Republican leaders never mention his death. The Roman army was naturally disposed to follow Antony, not merely from love to Csesar's memory, but from per- sonal attachment. He was, in every sense, a popular general resembling Scott's spirited description of a soldier's favourite leader.* Cicero's execution, which so disgraced Antony's triumph, is not mentioned in this play, which ends with the suicide of Brutus and that of Cassius, after their defeat at Philippi. The apparition of Caesar's ghost to Brutus, and the latter's complete fearlessness, so powerfully described by Shake- speare, are recorded by Plutarch, who, however, states that the ghost twice appeared to Brutus — the last time without speaking. But Antony's noble words at seeing the dead body of Brutus seem to be Shakespeare's invention, as the spirit they show is quite inconsistent with Antony's fierce, vindictive temper. Antony. This was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar. He only in a general honest thought, And common good to all made one of them. — Act V. Throughout this play Brutus is made the most interesting character. Modern readers may surely regret that Caesar was not made more prominent. f He might in Shakespeare's hands have made most interesting and instructive allusions to his foreign conquests and campaigns, especially in Britain ; but in the play he is exclusively occupied with the conflict- ing passions and feelings of his fellow-Romans. Brutus himself seems to be alone, in his peculiar ideas, unselfish- ness, and bravery, mingled with rare gentleness of spirit. He is unlike both friends and foes, and, considering the period, was probably not well understood by either. His last noble words before suicide show that he believed himself * "Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art To win the soldier's hardy lieart ; They love a captain to obey — Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May ; — Witli open hand, and brow as free ; Lover of wine and minstrelsy ; Ever tire first to scale a tower ; As venturous in a lady's bower. Such buxom chief shall lead his host, . From India's fires to Zembla's frost." — Marmion, Canto III. Plutarch terms Antony "the darling of the Roman anny." + "The spirit of Plutarch's Brutus is well seized, the predominance of C:ssar is judiciously restrained."- - Halla.m's Literary History, vol. iii. chap. 6. 1 JULIUS CiESAR. 9 j a ' martyr, but his conduct throughout was more like an enlthusiast than a patriot : — I shall have glory by this losing day, I More than Octavius and Mark Antony I By this vile conquest shall attain unto. I So, fare you well at once ; for Brutus' tongue ,' Hath almost ended his life's history. — Act V. ' He firmly believes in the glorious happiness of a Roman K.epublic without, apparently, studying whether his fellow- countrymen, at that time, desired such a form of government, or what the views of the majority were upon the subject. i History differs from Shakespeare about his state of mind after the Philippi defeat. The poet makes him gratefully declare that he found everybody true to him, while, accord- ing to Merivale,* he became almost heart-broken, and declared he found virtue only a name. His last words contemptuously class Antony and young Octavius together as allied foes to their country, ignoring the plain truth that they, unaided by foreign power, represented the majority of his fellow-countrymen. It being Shakespeare's wish to make Brutus the hero of this tragedy, he easily portrays him as the most interesting person in it. An able modern writer on Shakespeare t declares that he would rather fail with Srutus than triumph with Octavius. If their lives had ended fit the same time, such might be the feelings of most modern veaders. But history proves that the triumph of Octavius Was destined to be that of a wise, just, and discerning ruler, over an amiable, impetuous idealist, who, as Mr. Dowden says, " lived among his books, nourished himself with philo- sophies, and was secluded from the impression of facts." Such a character was, indeed, unfit to rule or even influence the turbulent, yet thoroughly practical Romans. The ex- treme gentleness of Brutus towards his young wife Portia — who fully shares his political principles, though with less energy — and also towards his servant lad Lucius, is worthy of a more civilized age. He was, in fact, a man unsuited to his times, his bravery and sincerity making him respected alike by ardent friends and generous foes, without either of them really understanding his character. In patriotism and bve for his country, this gentle, yet devoted enthusiast re- sembled Octavius more than his chief ally or chief foe, Cassius and Antony. These two are, indeed, men of much coarser mould, far more selfish and worldly than their noble * Romans under the Empire, vol. ii. + Dovvden's Shakespeare: His Mind and Art. lO SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. and comparatively civilized associates. Cassius and Antony understand one another, the former hating Julius Caesar, partly, if not chiefly, through personal envy ; the latter following his fortunes, thereby promoting his own, and grjti- fying his worldly passions. This play leaves the Roman Empire under the rule of Antony, though Octavius, not y^et twenty years old, nominally shared supreme authority with his late uncle's victorious general and successful avenger.* * Gibbon states of Octavius that "both his virtues and vices were artificial : according to his interest he was at first the enemy and then the father of the Roman world." Also that when young he had "a cool head, an unfeeling heartj, and a cowardly disposition." — Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, vol. i, Yet it is evident, even from Gibbon's account, that the more powerful Octavius became the more were his virtues displayed : for both as a sovereign and a man he was certainly beloved and respected by all classes of his subjects. — See Suetonius' Lives of the Casars ; also Merivale's Romans under the Empire. II CHAPTER II. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. Sketch of Play. After the battle of Philippi, Antony went to Egypt, while Octavius, with his colleague Lepidus, remained chiefly at Rome, or in the eastern provinces of the Empire. When in Egypt Antony is completely fascinated by its queen, Cleopatra, and she weans his affection from his wife Fulvia, who remained in Rome, but devoted to her husband's interests. At her death he returns there, and, after a short time, marries Octavia, sister of Octavius Caesar. He again goes to Egypt, and, as before, falls under the influence of Cleopatra. Octavius and the Romans generally are much irritated against him ; but Antony, relying on his popularity with his soldiers, and ruled by Cleopatra, defies Caesar, who declares war against him, and invades Egypt. Antony is defeated at the battle of Actium, and accuses Cleopatra of treachery ; she, however, regains a short-lived influence over him, but the triumphant advance of Octavius Csesar alarms her, and she tries to make peace with him unknown to Antony. He discovers her talking with Caesar's messenger, . and is furious. Cleopatra, afraid to offend either of the iRoman leaders, pretends to commit suicide. Her death is announced to Antony, who mortally wounds himself at the news ; but when she hears this she again sees him, and he expires in her presence. She then has an interview with Octavius, trying to appease and fascinate him ; but she finds her artifices fail, and that he is resolved to lead her oaptive through Rome in a triumphal procession. Of this Cleopatra has not only been secretly informed, but she also guesses Caesar's intention from his manner. She perceives •:hat her powers of alluring, previously so successful with Pompey, Julius Caesar, and Antony, have no effect on Octavius, whose love fortius injured sister Octavia hardens !him against her rival. 'Cleopatra then resolves on suicide, to escape the public disgrace of the Roman processioji.> Octavius admits his intention in the last scene, wheii 12 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. Antony and Cleopatra being both dead, he returns in triumph' to Rome. " The action in this play comprehends the events of ten years."— Howard Stavnton'S Notes io the Illustrated Shakespeare. Antony's great popularity with the Roman army, and the cautious deference of young Octavius towards him, after their joint victory at Philippi, inclined him to indolence I and self-indulgence.* (Shakespeare, accordingly, begins this I play by describing the angry regret of two of Antony's I officers at the complete abandonment of their commander \ to a sensual life?) These men — Demetrius and Philo — are evidently accustomed to his licentious habits ; but never before was he so completely enslaved, though " the measure " they mention doubtless exceeded the usual limits even of Roman profligacy. Philo. Nay, but this dotage of our general's __0^erflows_th£jneasure : those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glowed like plated Mars, now bead, now turn, The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front. — Act I., — meaning Cleopatra's dark complexion compared to that of Roman ladies. Antony, though a libertine, had probably never known, among his numerous acquaintance, such a character as Cleopatra, This beautiful woman was alike bold, crafty, energetic, and cruel. SHiakespeare, doubtless, knew Plutarch's account, confirmed by other writers, of her .savage experiments on slaves and criminals, by having them bitten or stung to death, in her presence, by different kinds, of snakes, to discover the most painful and the most easy deaths inflicted. This practice, though not mentioned in the play, well explains her angry threats of torture against the unwelcome announcer of Antony's second marriage. She had successively fascinated the illustrious rivals, Pompey and Julius Caesar, and was, therefore, well acquainted with the Roman character in its grandest specimens.f Thus, after ■" ' ' He talked with the soldiers in their own swaggering and ribald strain : ate and drank with them in public ; he was pleasant on the subject of his amoure ; ready in assisting the intrigues of others ; and easy under the raillery to whicl . he was subjected by his own." — Plutarch's Life of Antony. t A recent writer of an interesting learned work on Egypt believes that Cleopatra was living near Rome, with her son, Ca;sarion, at the time of Julius Ca:sar's murder; but Shakespeare makes no allusion to it. This writer confirms Shakespeare's account of the luxurious life of Antony and Cleopalia, and also ot the latter's death by the bite of an asp. — Ebers's Egypt, vol. i. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 1 3 her successful artifices with these illustrious men— statesmen as well as warriors — her subsequent conquest of the com- paratively uneducated, reckless Antony was an easy triumph.* Egypt, over which she nominally ruled, was completely subject to Rome, and had been so for many years. So thoroughly had it become a Roman province, that little mention is made in history, and none in the play, of any neighbouring country or ruler having much influence or intercourse with it, except King Herod "of Jewry," whose head Cleopatra hoped to " have " through Antony's means. Shakespeare never mentions Abyssinia, Syria, or Tripoli, nor does he allude to the Bedouin Arab inhabitants of the Desert. The whole play is engrossed with Roman characters and politics, while Cleopatra's evident policy is to please her Roman sovereigns, and to study and imitate what she her- self calls " the high Roman fashion " in everything. t During the first part of this play Cleopatra is fully occupied in providing amusements and arranging festive entertainm.ents for Antony, whom she believes, and who believes himself, now supreme in the Roman Empire. The enamoured Antony, when beside his enchantress, utters the following high-sounding words, which, though Shakespeare's invention, clearly reveal the Roman general's state of mind : J>et Rome in Tiber melt ! and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall ! Here is my space. — Act I^ Such words would surely arouse indignation in every Roman mind, considering Antony's position of trust at the head of the Imperial army. But in the midst of his enjoyments, news comes from Rome of his wife Fulvia's death. This woman, a person of high spirit and haughty temper, had steadily supported her absent, faithless husband's interests against the increasing power of Octavius.J At news of her death, Antony, knowing her earnest affection for him, and devotion to his political interests, despite his conduct, is shocked and saddened. He resolves to return to Rome, yet finds it difficult to leave Cleopatra. Thus, during the first ! * " Antony had little of the literary polish so widely diffused among his equals iii station." — Merivale's Romans under the Empire, vol. iii. j + Merivale confinns Shakespeare's account of Cleopatra's schemes to please tliie Roman voluptuary, Antony, adding that "she had secured, as she hoped, by aJiliance with him, the stability of her ancestral throne." He accepts Shake- stfieare's version of her character, saying that "the Roman point of view makes hi|;r only vain and selfish ; but she really had a, love for Antony." This last aisertion, considering both her conduct and position in Egypt, seems rather doubtful. X Plutarch. 14 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. shock caused by Fulvia's death — whom he had always trusted more as a friend, apparently, than loved as a wife-^^he^ reveals. to his follower, Enobarbus, his real -feeling towards Cleopatra. It is neither affection nor confidence, but a dis- trust, almost amounting to dread, which, in her presence, changes to an admiring, jealous infatuation^ He longs and resolves to return home, yet has hardly moral courage to say so before this extraordinary woman, who, combining such love as that of which she was capable, with steady devotion to her own worldly interests, he knows would oppose his leaving Egypt, where he, nominally her sovereign, is really her subject. vEnobarbus, who evidently knows Cleopatra better than Antony does, declares that she will pretend to die when she hears of his departure, and congratulates Antony on Fulvia's death, while the widower neither thanks nor checks him^ Antony. I must be gone. Enobarbus. Cleopatra catching but the least news of this, dies instantly ; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment ; I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Antony. She is cunning past man's thought. Would I had never seen her. — Act I. Antony evidently believes what his follower says of Cleopatra's deceit, and thus is aware what a thorough actress she is. He never reproves Enobarbus for being, certainly, very outspoken about her ; but, dreading his loss of influence at Rome after his wife's death, he hastens to apprise Cleopatra of his imtnediate return there. At this crisis Cleopatra's real feelings, so often concealed by false pretences, are, for a short time, revealed. She is rejoiced at Fulvia's death, yet mortified to find Antony depressed and resolved to leave her, though only for a short time. Her interest, as well as her passion for him, induce her to oppose his departure ; for, while he remains in Egypt, under her influence, her almost absolute power is secure, though nominally she is a vassal of Rome. Her artful, fierce spirit indulges in raillery, sorrow, and reproach,, mingled with occasional signs of affection for him, real or pretended. Her jealousy as well as her fears are aroused; knowing that Antony, now a widower, will soon be amid the most attractive ladies of his nation, who, viewing her a'p a semi-barbarian, despite her beauty, wealth, and accomplisht ments, may supplant her in his inconstant affections. Iri this remarkable scene Cleopatra sarcastically asks her female, ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 1 5 attendant Charmian to watch Antony's agitated expression, who, doubtless, obeys her mistress, while prudently saying nothing. Antony. My precious queen, forbear ; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial. Cleopatra. So Fulvia told me. I prithee, turn aside, and weep for her ; Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears Belong to Egypt : good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling ; and let it look Like perfect honour. Antony. You'll heat my blood . no more. Cleopatra. You can do better yet ; but this is meetly. Antony. Now, by my sword, — Cleopatra. And target, — still he mends ; But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe. Antony. I'll leave you, lady. Cleopatra. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, — but that's not it. Sir, you and I have loved, — but that's not it ; That you know well : something it is I would, — O, my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten. But, sir, forgive me ; Since my becomings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you : your honour calls you hence ; Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, And all the gods go with you ! upon your sword Sit laurel victory, and smooth success Be strew'd before your feet ! — Act I.* Cleopatra, having thus provoked Antony as far as she dared, and finding him resolved to return home, changes her manner, speaks affectionately, and, wishing him every success, they separate, though only for a short time. Antony leaves ii'nmediately for Rome, and Cleopatra remains in Egypt, anxious, jealous, and apprehensive, lest her influence over her powerful dupe may be superseded. Before reaching Rome !* Mrs. Jameson : Characteristics of Wo?nen, vol. ii., agrees with Merivale that Shakespeare's Cleopatra is the real historical character, and mentions her " iirtful mockery, triumphant petulance, and imperious coquetry ; " she calls her " a compound of contradictions of all that we most hate with what we most admire." Yet, in Shakespeare's description, there seems little, indeed, to admire through- out, except in personal appearance and ready wit. For her deceit, pride, and je.llousy rule her conduct alternately, and she neither utters nor acts upon a single gi nerous sentiment. l6 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. Antony sent a loving message to Cleopatra, who, during his absence, is often in a state of extraordinary excitement* Her fierce, crafty, jealous spirit incessantly dreads losing its hold over Antony, on which her own power depends, as she knows nothing of young Octavius or Lepidus, and is yet a Roman subject. She recalls both Pompey and Julius Caesar — her former lovers — whom she had so completely captivated in her younger and happier days. Yet she mentions neither of them with the least tenderness, but only as gratifying proofs of her powers of fascination. Cleopatra. Now I feed myself With most delicious poison : — Think on me. That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, And wrinkled deep in time ? Broad-fronted Caesar, When thou wast here above the ground, 1 was A morsel for a monarch : and great Pompey Would stand, and make his eyes grow in my brow ; There would he anchor his aspect, and die With looking on his life. — Act I. Scene V. Their noble lives and untimely deaths have, apparently, made no impression on her selfish nature. Her wild anxiety about Antony at first seems like real, though fantastic, affection ; although when her former life and language are recalled, which her sly, yet faithful, attendant Charmian remembers, it is evident that her worldly interests, now so involved with Antony, actuate her more than any love for him. Cleopatra. Did, I, Charmian, Ever love Caesar so ? Charmian. O, that brave Csesar ! Cleopatra Be chok'd with such another emphasis ! Say the brave Antony. Charmian. The valiant Caesar ! Cleopatra. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth. If thou with Caesar paragon again My man of men ! Charmian. By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you. * The poet Coleri dgp anri Mr. FiiTnivnIl, nnp of the latest commentators on Shakes peare, af^ree that C leopatra is one of the most wonderful women he e-i'er described. THe former says, " No other histoical play is so thoroughly founded on history ; " the latter, " Shakespeare borrows his main lines from Plutarch in describing Cleopatra." It is evident, therefore, that Shakespeare relied less on his imagination in this play than in many others. For the real history of Antony and Cleopatra was so eventful that it required less of Shakespeare's un- assisted genius, upon which King Lear and even Macbeth, to some extent, are comparatively dependent. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 1 7 Cleopatra. My salad days ! When I was green in judgment, — cold in blood, To say as I said then ! — Act 1. Scene V.* When Antony reaches Rome, he finds Octavius displeased at his wasting so much time in voluptuous indulgence at Alexandria, while Sextus Pompeius — son of Julius Caesar's great rival — is waging civil war, or rebellion, against the Triumvirs. Antony hears the just rebukes of Octavius with surprising meekness, considering his age and character. It is probable that this young prince's manner reminds him of his late revered master, the immortal Julius, for, surely, from no other living man would Antony have endured the same reproach with patience. A reconciliation, however, takes place between Octavius and Antony, and a marriage is arranged between the latter and Caesar's sister Octavia. This woman, though always mentioned favourably in the play, Shakespeare does not make nearly so interesting as he might have done, considering her amiable, virtuous, and for- giving character, as recorded by history.f She, indeed, rather resembled his own delightful creation, Cordelia, in King Lear ; and her whole conduct during an eventful, most trying life, was worthy of a better age than the semi-barbarous period in which she lived. In the play, the Roman officer Mecaenas praises her in terms which are confirmed rather than lessened by historical record. " If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle The heart of Antony, Octavia is A blessed lottery for him." — Act II. The deep, constant affection between her and her brother presents a noble moral contrast to the wild passions of the profligate Antony, and the mingled deceit and violence of the artful CleopatrS>, Yet this unscrupulous pair are con- sidered the hero and heroine of this fine tragedy, though Octavius and his sister are infinitely more worthy alike of interest and admiration.^ Shakespeare, however, apparently * Cleopatra's threat to strike Charmian, which the latter apparently fears by ceasing to mention provoking r»collections, was, perhaps, in Dr. Johnson's mind when pronouncing Shakespeare's Cleopatra " too low." + It was the general hope that a woman of Octavia's beauty and distinguished virtues would acquire such an influence over Antony as might, in the end, be salutary to the State. "The eyes of all," she said, "are necessarily turned on r le, who am the wife of Antony, and the sister of Cassar, and should these chiefs o^ the empire, misled by hasty counsels, involve the whole in war, whatever maybe the event, it will be unhappy for me." — Plutarch's Lz/e of Antony. P'utarch adds that Octavius had a great affection for his sister, "a woman of extraordinary merit." — Life vf Anlony. X "Antony, indeed, was given liim by history, and Sliakespeare has but em- Vodied, in his own vivid colours, the irregular mind of the Trium\i:-, araljitioiii; 10 SHAKESPEARE S HISTORICAL PLAYS. takes little interest in Octavia, being resolved to make his description of her rival Cleopatra as powerful as his match- less pen could render it. Accordingly, he gives a magnifi- cent description, through Enobarbus — when Antony and he return to Rome — of the first meeting of his master and Cleopatra. Enobarbus. When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. The barge she was in, like a burnish'd throne. Burnt on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver ; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person. It beggar'd all description : she did lie In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue), O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see The fancy outwork Nature : on each side her Stood pretty dimpled bo3'S, like smiling Cupids, With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. And what they undid, did. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings : at the helm A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands. That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony, Enthron'd in the market-place, did sit alone. Whistling to the air ; which, but for vacancy. Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap in Nature. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her. Invited her to supper : she replied, It should be better he became her guest ; Which she entreated : our courteous Antony, Whom ne'er the word of ' No ' woman heard speak. Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast ; And for his ordinary, pays his heart. For what his eyes eat only. — Act II. Scene II. jOn this occasion her beauty and attractions are praised to and daring against all enemies but himself. In Cleopatra he had less to gi.ide him. This character not being one that can please; its strong and spirited de- lineation has not been sufficiently observed." — Hai.lam's Literary Histo-y, vol. iii. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. I9 the utmost by Enobarbus, without a single virtue being ascribed to her. Thus from her introduction, Shakespeare seems resolved to make Cleopatra as attractive as any person ; can be, without the aid of a~si'n'gle noble or generous quality. '■ Eirotrarbus, an intelligent, ready-witted man, evidently ad- ' mires her beauty and talents, and almost fears them, with- out having the least respect or attachment towards her. He predicts that Antony will never tire of one whom " age cannot wither," and whose amazing infl^uence over the licentious general he himself has witnessed. } Antony's marriage with Octavia gave general satisfaction at Rome ; but Antony, apparently, only married her for political reasons, and is secretly resolved to return to Cleopatra, the only woman who, throughout his licentious life, had gained complete ascendency over him. Antony. I will to Egypt, And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' the East my pleasure lies. — Act II. Shakespeare introduces an Egyptian soothsayer at Rome, perhaps an agent or spy of Cleopatra's, who, soon after Antony's marriage to Octavia, irritates him against her brother, as a formidable rival to his political power. This incident Plutarch does not mention ; but, in the play, it hastens Antony's return to Egypt. Meantime Cleopatra^ when told of A.ntony's marriage, bursts into a violent, even frantic passion, which, though consistent with her character, and vividly described, is not recorded by Plutarch, whom the poet usually follows. Her attempt to stab the messenger of this unwelcome news, and her malignant curiosity about Octavia's appearance, are alike consistent with her real character, and natural in her position ; but the detailed scene seems derived from Shakespeare's own brilliant imagi- nation."/ Messenger. Madam, he's married to Octavia. Cleopatra. The most infectious pestilence upon thee ! IS^ri/cts him down. Messenger. Gracious Madam, I, that do bring the news, made not the match. Cleopatra. Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give thee. Messenger. He's married, madam. Cleopatra. Rogue ! thou hast lived too long. \_Dra7VS a dagger. At this violence the messenger naturally retires with all speed, but is recalled, and, after bitter reproaches, Cleopatra piitulantly exclaim.? — c 2 20 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too dear for me ; lie they upon thy hand, And be undone by them. Having thus di.smissed him, the furious queen exclaims to her female attendants, Charmian and Iras, and the eunuch Alexas, — In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. Charmian. Many times, madam. Cleopatra. I am paid for 't now. Lead me from hence ; I faint ; O, Iras, Charmian ! — 'Tis no matter. Go to the fellow, good Alexas ; bid hirn Report the feature of Octavia, her years. Her inclination ; let him not leave out The colour of her hair : — bring me word quickly. [£xii Alexas. Let him for ever go : — Let him not — Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way he's a Mars : — Bid you Alexas Bring me word how tall she is. — Pity me, Charmian, But do not speak to me. — Lead me to my chamber. — Act II. She thus revives, for a moment, her recollection of Julius, whom she regrets having previously disparaged before Charmian ; but ^ho tenderness ever appears in any of her allusions to former lovers. She has evidently treated and viewed Fompey. Cresar, and Antony as temporary dupes to be coaxed, amused, and gratified in turn, while her reward was the secure preservation of her almost regal authority in Egypt.*^. She may, indeed, feel more anxiety about Antony than s'he ever did about the others, for she is now middle-aged, and, though still wonderfully beautiful and attractive, prob- ably begins to feel more jea'ous than ever of younger rivals. After describing her terrible, almost frantic excitement, Shakespeare changes the scene to Rome, where he mentions a remarkable banquet, at which Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, the three Triumvirs, meet their former foe, Sextus Pompeius, on terms of friendship. At this joyous feast Antony describes the Egyptian crocodiles to his drunken colleague Lepidus, while Octavius, ever careful, sober, and watchful, observes this strange scene with close attention. Antony's reckless nature, ready to drink and jest with Pompeius, or anyone, does not yet arouse Csesar's suspicions, who still thinks and hopes that his beloved sister has made * " She was the public slave of any man's passion whose political interest she recjuiied."— .MEkI\-ALF,'s Romans iiiii/lt tlu- limjirc, vol. iii. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 21 a happy marriage for herself, as well as for her country. His parting from her is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful passages in this play, yet it has been comparatively little noticed. C^SAR to Antony. You take from me a great part of myself; Use me well in it. — Sister, prove such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest bond Shall pass on thy approof — Most noble Antony, Let not the piece of virtue which is set Betwixt us, as the cement of our love. To keep it builded, be the ram to batter The fortress of it : for better might we Have loved without this mean, if on both parts This be not cherished. Antony. Make me not offended In your distrust. C^SAR. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort ! fare thee well. OcTAViA. My noble brother ! Antony. The April's in her eyes : it is love's spring, And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. —Act III. Scene II. Most of Octavius's and_his sister's actions and sentiments aire worthy of civilized, enlightened times, though they are placed, while both young, amid violent, unscrupulous friends and foes. Though Shakespeare follows history in all the sentiments he attributes to them, he yet keeps both in the background, preferring to devote the reader's special atten- tion to Antony and Cleopatra. After the parting of Caesar from Octavia, who accom- panies her husband to Greece, Shakespeare again describes Cleopatra's^ eager curi.Qsily ab.ojit _he£ rivaFs .appejirance. This scene is almost comic in the trifling details which interest her ; but she is quite in earnest, her fierce, worldly passions being now excited to the utmost through fear of losing influence over Antony. Through him she rules Egypt, not, apparently, feeling much interest in her subjects or in her country, as she never evinces any patriotism, nor the least idea of royal duties. She rarely mentions Egypt at all, only once alludes to its famous pyramids, when declaring, in frenzy, she would rather be hung in chains upon them tlian be led captive in Caesar's triumph. Her thoughts, fears, atid hopes are alike centred in Rome, and in Romans. She iriakes scarcely any allusion to anything connected with i)!gypt ; neither its ancient history, its mummies, pyramids. 22 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. &c., which have always made that country so remarkable, and interesting to the medieval and modern world. The scene of this play is, indeed, chiefly in Alexandria, but Roman events, characters, and intrigues are alone recorded and studied. Cleopatra's whole object is, apparently, to live in voluptuous enjoyment ; amusing or being amused ; recall- ing, with vain, selfish exultation, her former conquests of Pompey and Julius Caesar. Upon hearing an unflattering account of Octavia's appearance and manners, her jealous vanity is rather gratified. She never asks about her rival's character, education, mind, or temper^. Cleopatra. Didst thou behold Octavia ? Messenger. Ay, dread queen. Cleopatra. Is she as tall as me ? Messenger. She is not, madam. Cleopatra. Didst hear her speak ? Is she slirill-toiigued, or low ? Messenger. Madam, I heard her speak ; she is low-voiced. Cleopatra. That's not so good : — he cannot like her long. Charmian. Like her ? O Isis ! 'tis impossible. Cleop.A-TRA. Guess at her years, I prithee. Messenger. Madam, She was a widow. Cleopatra. Widow ? Charmian, hark. Messenger. And I do think she's thirty. Cleopatra. Bear'st thou her face in mind ? Is't long or round ? Messenger. Round even to faultiness. Cleop.4TRA. For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour ? Messenger. Brown, madam : and her forehead As low as she would wish it. Cleopatra. There's gold for thee. Thou must not take my former sharpness ill. — Act III. Scene III. Cleopatra has no more esteem for virtue in the one sex than the other, and, once satisfied that Octavia is plain and awkward compared to herself, she asks no more about her, and prepares, with renewed energy, to tempt Antony back again, caring for nothing but her own power and gratification.* Shakespeare then describes the last interview betwee Antony and Octavia, at Athens, where he reveals his enmit to her brother, which she had almost anticipated. He com plains that Octavius has suddenly renewed war again; Sextus Pompeius, and has spoken contemptuously of himse f * "Cleopatra, as a woman, deserves neither love nor admiration; but, as -i queen, her anibilion was bold and her bearing magnanimous."^MERlVAi.E =; Romans under the Empire, vol. iii. Vet neither history nor Shakespeare recoi '. nuicb, if any, jiroof of her magnanimity. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 23 since they left Rome. Octavia pathetically deplores this quarrel between husband and brother, and Antony sends her back to Rome, nominally to make peace between him and Octavius, while he again goes to Egypt unknown to his wife. Here Shakespeare rather deviates from history, which states that Antony fought against the Parthians — those bravest enemies of the Romans — before he rejoined Cleopatra ; but in the play, when Antony is again introduced after leaving Octavia, he is once more in Egypt. Previous to describing his arrival there, Shakespeare introduces a beautiful scene between Octavius and his sister, who, not suspecting Antony's desertion of her, or his devotion to Cleopatra, implores her brother to make peace, if possible, with her husband. Octavius, who now knows Antony's character and conduct better than his sister does, exposes them to her with sup- pressed indignation, mingled with tender love and pity for Octavia. Octavia. My Lord, Mark Antony, Hearing that you prepar'd for war, acquainted My grieved ear withal : whereon, I begg'd His pardon for return. CjESar. Which soon he granted, Being an obstruct 'twixt his lust and him. Octavia. Do not say so, my lord. C^sar. I have eyes upon him, And his affairs come to me on the wind. Where is he now ? Octavia. My lord, in Athens. CiESAR. No, my most wronged sister ; Cleopatra Hath nodded him to her. — Act HI. Scene VI. He treats her with the utmost kindness, but prepares for war against Antony with calm and resolute determination. Meanwhile, Antony, again with Cleopatra, is as much under her influence as ever, and prepares to resist Caesar's forces. When, at the battle of Actium, Cleopatra's vessels, or those which obey her orders, take to flight suddenly, Antony is completely defeated, and Caesar's victory easy and decisive. Neither history nor the play state very clearly if the Egyptian fleet fled from panic or treachery.* Antony, however, suspects the latter, and, in despairing confusion, blames and reproaches Cleopatra, who, by merely expressing sorrow, immediately pacifies him. This first breach between them — his sad reproaches, ^and her submission, which quite .melts him — well displays Ijhe artful queen's complete ascen- idency over the passionate and sensual Roman general. -' * Compare Plui'arch's Life of Anlony and Studenfs History of Rome. 24 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. Antony. You did know How much you were my conqueror ; and that My sword, made weak by my affection, would Obey it on all cause. Cleopatra. Pardon, pardon. Antony. Fall not a tear, I say ; one of them rates All that is won or lost : give me a kiss ; Even this repays me. — Act III. ^t would appear that, at this time, Cleopatra is undeter- mined hovir to act : she apparently hopes to make a conquest of Octavius, whose success she probably anticipates, yet is unwilling to desert Antony, knowing her power over him, and that her success with his~young foe is very doubtful, con- sidering his relationship to her rival Octavia, together with his self-control and firmness of character. Yet she gladly receives Thyreus, Ca;sar's messenger, unknown to Antony. In reply to his persuasions to abandon Antony, she sends a most submissive reply to Octavius, without mentioning Anton)^, and assures Thyreus of her complete obedience to young Caesar's will, whom she acknowledges as ruler of Egypt. Thyreus. He [C»sar] knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him. Cleopatra. O ! Thyreus. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity, as constrained blemishes, Not as deserved. Cleopatra. He is a god, and knows What is most right : mine honour was not yielded. But conquer'd merely. Say to great Caesar this, in disputation I kiss his conqu'ring hand : tell him I am prompt To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel. —Act III. Scene XI. Antony, however, bursts in upon this singular conference, and in a violent passion orders Thyreus to be soundly whipped, though aware of his coming from C^sar, while he assails Cleopatra with reproaches.* '^She hears him with the meekness of an accomplished actress, convincing him of her love and fidelity. Antony again believes her, and prepares for a desperate resistance to Csesan When Octavius receives Antony's personal challenge, he^ scorns and rejects it, calling him an old ruffian, and replie. " It is on this occasion that the observant, sly Enobarbus well compares Octavius to "a lion's whelp," and Antonj' to " an old one dying." ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 2$ that he has many other ways to die. Antony is disappointed, being probably a redoubted swordsman, which, perhaps, Octavius was not ; but the latter is steadily becoming more popular with the Roman army, now beginning to despise and desert Antony. Cleopatra and he both knew, therefore, that in single combat Antony would probably be victor, but that in a pitched battle, heading their respective forces, C^sar had more chance of success. The old general now addresses his followers in a state of nervous excitement unusual with him, evidently anticipating defeat and death, though his natural bravery renders him incapable of fear. Antony. Tend me to-night ; May be it is the period of your duty : Haply, you shall not see me more ; or if, A mangled shadow : perchance, to-morrow You'll serve another master. I look on you As one who takes his leave. But when Enobarbus says this language dispirits his friends, and makes them weep, Antony, with a faint sparkle of his former spirit, rejoins — You take me in too dolorous a sense ; . . . . Know, my hearts, I hope well of to-morrow ; and will lead you Where rather I'll expect victorious life. Than death and honour. Let's to supper ; come. And drown consideration. — Act IV. Scene I. Yet he evidently feels no more a soldier's pleasure in the present war. Except when in Cleopatra's enchanting pre- sence, who cornpletely fascinates him, Antony deeply feels his present degraded position — viewed as a selfish, weak profligate by most of his countrymen, who are now rapidly transferring their confidence from him to his noble opponent, Octavius. He again seeks Cleopatra, who assists in buckling on his armour with peculiar skill, for which her brave, in- fatuated dupe praises her while preparing for battle.,/ Caesar wishes Antony captured alive, feeling sure of victory, and anticipates the happy future when the vast Roman Empire, under his rule, shall again enjoy peace and happiness. Octavius. The time of universal peace is near : Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world Shall bear the olive freely. — Act IV. Scene VI.* * This sublime anticipation which Shakespeare attributes to the future Emperor j'as fully verified, according to history : — " Mildew corroded blade and spear-head, 26 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. In a brief land engagement, a mere skirmish, Antony gains some success, wliich, though slight, raises his excitable spirits ; yet he apparently thinks that his rival has many advantages over him, which he had not foreseen, and that his own age " will not be defied."* On the day after his trifling success over Caesar's land forces his fleet surrenders to the enemy, and he, for the second or third time, believes and declares that Cleo- patra,'!^^is foul Egyptian," has betrayed him. In the midst of his indignation Cleopatra appears, and he reproaches and threatens her with such fury/ that, despairing of any artifice save one, she leaves his presence, and declares to her confi- dant, Charmian, that he is madly furious against her. For the first time Antony is now thoroughly enraged against Cleopatra, even mentioning his deserted wife, " patient Octavia," with tenderness. This allusion, considering Cleo- patra's jealous nature, was, perhaps, "the unkindest cut of all," for she attempts neither justification nor reply, though so well skilled in all the arts of deception. Her wily atten- dant suggests resorting to her old trick of pretended death, that she should lock herself up in a monument, and have Antony apprised of her sudden decease. Cleopatra follows this advice, sending another of her people, the eunuch Mar- dian, with the news to Antony. The latter is now in a state of mingled despair and rage — despair about his own fate, and rage against her whom he believes to have been the cause of it. But the news of her sudden death, from alleged grief at his anger with her, takes away his rage while it com- pletes his despair. If she is really dead through love for him, all his former suspicions of her treachery must be groundless, and, his fury having hastened her death whom he again believes faithful to him, destroys all hope of happi- ness, and all wish for life. VThe idea of suicide— ^that terrible remedy among the Romans for all human misery and thought so blameless by them — now tempts him with irresistible power, . Like Brutus, he forthwith asks his attendant Eros to slay him, but upon his follower's committing suicide at the fatal request, Antony inflicts a mortal wound upon himself. He has just done this when told that Cleopatra, locked in the monument, is not dead, and begs him to visit her. Antony's anger is but S]5ared the growing crops ; the sword was turned into a pruning-hooli ; the corselet into a ploughshare ; the altar of Peace was erected solemnly in tie Roman Curia. On such occasions the praises of Augustus, as the author of :o much happiness, held always the foremost place. The poets urged their countri,- men to remember in every prayer and thanksgiving the restorer of order, tl e creator of universal felicity." — Merivale's Romans wider the Empire, ch. xxxii, ■ * Bacon's Essays. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 2^ now over ; he knows his end is come, and longs again to see the fatal enchantress for whom he has lost the world. He is conveyed to the monnmentj where Cleopatra receives him with many signs of love and sorrow ; for she recognizes in the dying warrior her latest conquest, now following the shadows of Pompey and Julius' Csesar. Excited to the utmost by the peril of her situation, and surrounded by dangers, Cleopatra is naturally grieved and terrified, as her brave old general dies before her eyes without another word of reproach, with his last breath charging her to trust only one of Octavius Caesar's followers, a certain Proculeius. It is then that Cleopatra declares she will commit suicide, and again says so to her women after Antony's death. When he is gone for ever she finds herself alone, and confronted with " the young Roman boy," as Antony called him, who, like the destroying angel, has advanced irresistibly upon them. >^Yet she has not really abandoned all hope of life, and of appeasing, if not fascinating, the young conqueror, whom she now sees in the monumerff. During this extraordinary interview, Octavius is said to have kept his eyes steadily fixed on the ground,* and spoke to her with calm but cold courtesy. Cleopatra is all submission ; but, before this scene, she had asked Proculeius if his master was really determined to lead her in a public triumph through the streets of Rome. Upon the answer of this one trusty man her fate virtually depends, and his reply, brief, explicit, and hopeless, leaves no doubt on the question : "' Madam, he will ; I know it." From that moment Cleopatra's proud spirit knows no remedy, perceives no escape, save by what she terms elsewhere the " high Roman fashion " of suicide. Yet in her interview with Octavius, she apparently nourishes a faint hope that her grace, beauty, and address may, at least to some extent, subdue her conqueror.t But she has now to deal with a totally different person from any she had previously known. ,It was, doubtless, a terrible disappointment to her, when middle- aged, yet still beautiful, to find all her arts and attractions prove ineffectua.1.' She evidently finds herself at a disadvan- tage never known before. For Octavius is not only much younger than herself, but the loving, trusted brother of the virtuous woman she had wronged. Accordingly, his calm composure, founded partly on contempt natural to such a man * Plutarch's Lives and Merivale's Romans under the Empire. t Mrs. Jameson calls Cleopatra "a coquette to the last" {Characteristics of Women, vol. ii.), " luxurious in her despair ; " but in her spirited and able account ->{ her Mrs. Jameson surely evinces undeserved admiration. Except her beauty and lalenl, which she employs for selfish, worldly purposes only, there seems little, if anything, to admire or respect in her character and conduct. 28 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. for such a woman, baffles and confounds her. His cold, watch- ful manner, utterly different from her recollections of Pompey, Caesar, and Antony, she probably never experienced before. She surrenders some of her plate, jewels, and treasure, but is betrayed by her steward Seleucus revealing that she yet retains enough to re-purchase all she has offered to Octavius. At this statement Cleopatra's temper is roused for the last time, while she bitterly reproaches Seleucus. During this singular scene, Octavius preserves his usual calmness, speaks politely, and leaves her with the same cold courtesy, yet she perceives from his manner that all her efforts to cajole, charm, or influence him are hopeless, and, remember- ing the warning words of Proculeius, feels no doubt that he is resolved to lead her a captive through Rome. When con- vinced of his intention, as well as her utter inability to influence him, she desperately resolves on suicide, and, addressing her devoted attendants, Charmian and Iras, de- scribes in revolting language the public disgrace which surely awaits them in the projected Roman triumph. Both history and Shakespeare state that she then, arrayed in royal robes, perished with her two attendants ; but whether from the bite of an asp or not seems uncertain.* Shakespeare, however, describes a curious conversation between her and an Egyptian peasant, who brings an asp in a basket of fruit, and talks, perhaps, more like an English peasant or labourer than an Oriental. Cleopatra dismisses the man, and, applying two asps to her breast, dies quickly, and almost painlessly, from their poison.f Octavius, when informed of the event, hastens to the monument, and beholds the remains of the beautiful Egyptian queen. He now owns his late intention of leading her in triumph through Rome, and, ordering her interment beside Antony, which is, perhaps, singular, considering his sister's position, he announces a speedy return to Italy. His words end both this play and that of Julius Caesar ; but his character is not yet fully developed, and it is scarcely given sufficient prominence, considering his noble position, and equally noble conduct.J There seems no doubt that, the older and more powerful he became, the more excellent was * Merivale, though doubtful about the asp story, says it was generally believed, and that, in the triumphant return of Octavius to Rome, Cleopatra's figure wa? represented on a couch with the asp clinging to her arm. —Komatis under the Empire. + " She from dread of vulgar taunts died — theatrically vain and ease-seeking to the last — the gentlest death she could secure." — Furnivall's Introduction to the Royai Shakespeare. % Merivale states that when he was emperor, and took the name of Augustus, he " then wiped his blood-stained sword, and became a mild, clement, and noble ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 29 his rule, and the more exemplary his conduct.* He returns to Rome after this extraordinary Egyptian campaign, and there, assuming the name of Augustus, ruled gloriously both for himself and his grateful countrymen, who literally worshipped his memory, and deified his name. He consoled and cherished Octavia, who, in the true spirit of Christianity — a religion she was never fated to know — educated and brought up the children of Antony and Cleopatra, and proved herself an example to all the Pagan world.f Her "noble brother," as she terms him, while raising the Roman empire to the highest point of martial strength and glory, encouraged men of genius with the discerning, appreciative liberality of a truly patriotic sovereign. Horace and Virgil both owned and experienced his well-deserved generosity. Worldly power and prosperity seemed only to develop and display, rather than corrupt or enervate, the character of this great ruler, who, practically as wise as the wisest of kings in Scripture, possessed the blessings of this world only to make the best use of them. J After a long, happy, and beneficent reign, the inevitable end approached. Then, in a spirit more worthy of that faith which he and his sister never ruler." — Romans under the Empire. " It was reserved for Augustus to relinquish the ambitious design of subduing the whole earth, and to introduce a spirit of moderation into the public councils. Happily for the repose of mankind, the moderate system recommended by the wisdom of Augustus was adopted by the fears and vices of his immediate successors." — Gibbon's Decline and Fall, vol. i. The account given by Suetonius (Lives of the Casars), though dry and unim- passioned, would surely impi ess any thoughtful reader with the highest admira- tion for the character and conduct of Augustus. * Schlegel's opinions of the personages in this play seem strangely at variance both with itself and the Roman history on which it is founded. He says, "As Antony and Cleopatra die for each other, we forgive them for having lived for each other." Antony may have died for Cleopatra, though indirectly ; but surely Cleopatra cannot be said to have died for him. On the contrary, had Octavius admired her as Pompey, Julius Caesar, and Antony had done, there is every reason to believe he would have been her fourth favourite, and any one repeating her former praises of Antony would, probably, have been again threatened witli "bloody teeth" for comparing a dead paramour with her new "man of men." .Schlegel also mentions the heartless littleness of Octavius, whom Shakespeare seems to have completely seen through without allowing himself to be led astray by the position and power of Augustus. But what proof does history, Shake- speare, or Schlegel give of "heartless littleness?" Sincere and constant affec- tion for his virtuous sister ; a clemency and moderation which astonished the Roman world, according to Suetonius, Merivale, and Gibbon ; and a long life of pre-eminent wisdom, justice, and glory, surely repudiate this assertion. t Mrs. Jameson's account of Octavia : Characteristics of Women, vol. ii. ; also Plutarch's Life of Antony. X " He filled the world with wonder, at a moderation which it could not com- prehend. With the world at his feet, he began to conceive the real grandeur of his position. He rose to a sense of the awful mission imposed upon him. He became the greatest of Stoic philosophers, inspired with the strongest enthusiasm, and impressed the most deeply with a consciousness of divinity within him. He acknowledged, not less than a Cato or a Brutus, that the man-God must suffer as well as act divinely." — Meri vale's Romans under the Empire, vol. iii. 30 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. knew, than of Paganism, he asked his attendants to give him their applause at the last, if they thought he deserved it. How the strange religion of Jupiter could have influenced such characters as Augustus, Octavia, and so many other virtuous Pagans, has often surprised classical students ; but that Shakespeare did not make this illustrious brother and sister more prominent in his magnificent play seems very remarkable.* -For, while self-control, wisdom, and charity are considered the greatest of human qualities, and no writer valued them more highly than did Shakespeare, the unspeakable superiority of this noble pair to the reckless, profligate Antony, and the deceitful woman who caused his ruin, is proved by all impartial history. * "If ever mortal had a great, serene, well-regulated mind, it was Augustus Csesar. Mindful of his mortality, he seemed to have thoroughly weighed his ends, and laid them down in admirable order. First, he desired to have the sovereign rule; next, he endeavoured to appear worthy of it ; then thought it but reasonable, as a man, to enjoy his exalted fortunes ; and lastly, he turned his thoughts to such actions as might perpetuate his name. Hence, in his youth he affected power ; in his middle age, dignity ; in his decline of life, pleasure ; and in his old age, fame and the good of postenty."— Bacon's £ssaj on Azi^itsius Ccesar. 31 CHAPTER III. MACBETH. Sketch of Play. King Duncan of Scotland, an aged and mild ruler, has two sons, Malcolm and Donaldbain. Macbeth, one of his generals, is heir to the crown after the two princes. He bravely and loyally commands the king's forces against the rebellious Macdonald. Macbeth, with his fellow-general, Banquo, on returning from their victorious campaign, meet three witches on a lonely heath, who inform Macbeth that he will become king of Scotland, and tell Banquo that not he, but his descendants, shall succeed to the Scottish throne. Macbeth is deeply impressed by this disclosure, and writes about it to his wife, while Banquo is less credulous. When these generals meet their gratified old sovereign, he praises and rewards them, and soon after visits Macbeth and his wife at their Castle of Dunsinane. Here Macbeth is induced, partly by her and partly by his own ambition, to murder their royal guest, while they lay the blame alike on Malcolm and Donaldbain, who, horrified at the crime and accusation, escape to England, followed by Macduff, a loyal general of the late king. Banquo is soon after murdered by assassins hired by Macbeth, who now assumes the title of king. The three witches standing round their cauldron, have an interview with the usurper, who visits them when engaged in their mysterious rites, and they invoke apparitions, who assure him he will never be conquered till a certain wood that he knows shall come to his castle, and that no man born of woman shall ever harm him. They refuse, however, to answer more questions, but hint that Banquo's descendants shall here- after rule not only Scotland, but England and Ireland also. The witches and the apparitions vanish, leaving Macbeth angry and astounded, both excited and alarmed, by these strange intimations. Meanwhile the princes, Malcolm and Donaldbain, obtain English assistance, and invade Scotland with Macduff, whose wife and children were slain by Macbeth, or his followers, during his absence. Lady Macbeth, though 32 SHAKESPEARE S HISTORICAL PLAYS. incapable of repentance, suffers terribly in mind for all the atrocities which she and her husband have committed. After vaguely intimating, while walking in her sleep, her share in King Duncan's murder, she dies either from suicide or despair, without making any absolute confession ; while Macbeth strives, despite his accusing conscience and failing spirits, to resist the princes who, supported by English allies, now attack him. He is slain in single fight by Macduff, who, bearing his head to Prince Malcolm, proclaims him king of Scotland amid general acclamation. This play differs considerably from its historical deriva- tion. Shakespeare closely follows the account of Holinshed ; but Sir Walter Scott, who probably knew more of Scottish history, gives a different version of the real events on which the tragedy is founded. King Duncan, his son and successor Malcolm the Third, Macbeth, his wife, and Macduff, were real personages ; while Banquo and his son, Fleance, never existed. Yet .so many characters and events in this play are real, that it may surely be considered among the historical plays. The scene is almost entirely in Scotland — the land " of purple heather and grey rock " — but none of the per- sonages, except a few in name, have any Scottish charac- teristic. It has, indeed, been remarked* that Banquo rather resembles a "canny Scot," but neither he nor any of the subordinate persons speak with a Scottish accent, though Shakespeare was acquainted with it.f The ancient Gaelic language is not mentioned, the words Highland and Lowland are only used once, the plaid dress of the country, and its old weapons — dirks and claymores — are never introduced. Were it not for the historical incidents and a few names, the characters and events of this play might be imagined in any European country. The first act introduces the three witches who take such an important part in the tragedy. In reality Macbeth either saw them in a dream, or may have met three cunning old impostors,! who, knowing the prevailing Scottish belief in the power of witchcraft, made money by telling fortunes, and were everywhere believed and dreaded. § They vanish, * Mr. Furnivali.'s Tntrodiiction to the Royal Shakespeare. + See King Henry the Fifth, where a Captain Jamy represents Scotland, both in accent and character. X See Sir Walter Scott's History of Seotlamf, vol. i. § " It has been observed that, while according to the old English creed the witch was a miserable, decrepit hag, the slave rather than the mistress of the demons which haimted her, she in Scotland rose to the dignity of a potent MACBETH. 33 after a few words announcing their coming interview with Macbeth, and the next scene introduces King Duncan, with his sons and officers, who hear from a wounded captain, and also from Lord Rosse, about the bravery of his two generals, Macbeth and Banquo, in quelling the revolt of the Mac- donalds, allied with Norwegian invaders, aided by the Lord of Cawdor, who in another part of Scotland rebelled against Duncan, but was captured and executed. The king now declares that his loyal general, Macbeth, shall obtain all the titles and property belonging to the treach- erous Lord of Cawdor, and the next scene re-introduces the witches on a heath during a thunderstorm.* These beings, in the dream or excited fancy of the real Macbeth, were of lofty stature, and great beauty,t but the vague legends which Shakespeare follows describe them as " withered and weird " in appearance, with beards, said to be the sure sign of a witch;]: — otherwise they resembled women, probably, in voice and dress. These three, in their first conversation together, reveal malignant hatred to the human race, as well as their great, yet strangely limited power, and also their complete union in design and thought. One of the witches relates having been refused some chestnuts by a sailor's wife, and vindictively discloses her plan of revenge on the husband, regretfully admitting her limited powers of mischief, which enable her to torment the luckless sailor for a certain time, but not to destroy his vessel : — Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger : But in a sieve I'll thither sail. And like a rat without a tail, I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. 2ND Witch. I'll give thee a wind. 1ST Witch. Thou art kind. 3RD Witch. And I another. 1ST Witch. I myself have all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know. sorceress who mastered the evil spirit, and, forcing it to do her will, spread among the people afar deeper and more lasting terror." — Buckle's Civilization, vol. iii. * Duckle thinks that the Scottish climate and scenery greatly strengthened belief in witchcraft, mentioning "the storms and the mists ; the darkened sky flashed by frequent lightning ; the peals of thunder reverberating from mountain to mountain, and echoing on every side," &c., as marked contrasts to the milder climate and less romantic scenery of England.— jy/j/a'j of Civibzalion, vol. iii. Shakespeare, certainly, associates thunder and storms, mists and heath- covered mountains, with these witches, as if such were their natural surround- ings. t Scott's History of Scotland, vol. i, 1 Staunton's Notes to Macbeth. 34 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. I' the shipman's card, I will drain hira dry as hay : Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his penthouse lid ; He shall live a man forbid : Weary sev'n nights, nine times nine ; Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine : Though his bark cannot be lost. Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd. Look what I have. 2ND Witch. Show me, show me. 1ST Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he didcome. — Act I. Scene III. Macbeth and Banquo then appear on the heath, perceive and w^onder at the three witches, who, disregarding the latter, never speak till their future dupe, Macbeth, addresses them, when they severally greet him as Lord of Glamis, Lord of Cawdor, and future King of Scotland.* Macbeth starts, and shows fear at these words, while Banquo boldly asks about his own fortunes. They mysteriously answer that his descen- dants, not he, shall reign in Scotland, and seem moving away, for Macbeth entreats them to stay and tell more ; but they vanish, leaving the astonished generals to discuss and ponder over their vague intimations. f Upon Macbeth they make immediate impression, but little, if any, upon Banquo, who is throughout a calm, practical, brave officer, without either the ambition or imagination of Macbeth. The latter is soon after saluted by Duncan's messengers, proclaiming him Lord of Cawdor, thus confirming in his anxious mind a part of the witches' prophecy. The two generals then meet their * " It is probable that ShaUespeare — it is certain that tlie immense majority even of his most highly-educated and gifted contemporaries— believed with an unfaltering faith in the reality of witchcraft. Shakespeare was, therefore, per- fectly justified in introducing into his plays personages who were of all others most fitted to enhance the grandeur and the solemnity of tragedy, when they faith- fully reflected the belief of the audience." — Lecicy's Rationalism, vol. i. t " For many centuries after Macbeth's period, the power and influence of pi-etended witches prevailed in Scotland, even among people of comparative education. Witchcraft and demonology, even during the reign of Geovge the Second, were believed in by almost all ranks. " — Scott's Heart of Midlothian, ch. 9. In the Bride of Lammermoor, Scott introduces a malevolent hag, called Ailsie Gourlay, stating that she was a historical character, and was charged with having, " by the aids and delusions of Satan, shown to a young person of quality, in a mirror-glass, a gentleman, then abroad, to whom the said person was betrothed, and who appeared in the mirror to be bestowing his hand upon another lady." — ch. 31. This unfortunate impostor was tried and executed by the Scottish Privy Council for alleged witchcraft. Scott adds — "Notwithstanding the dreadful punishments inflicted upon the supposed crime of witchcraft, there wanted not those who, steeled by want and bitterness of spirit, were willing to adopt the hateful and dangerous character for the sake of the influence which its terrors enabled them to exercise in the vicinity, and the wretched emoluinent which they could extract, by the practice of their supposed art." MACBETH. 35 old sovereign, who, welcoming them as loyal, valiant subjects, greets them with thanks and compliments, while announcing his approaching visit to Macbeth's castle. Before they arrive, Lady Macbeth, at her husband's home, hears both of the coming royal visit, and also of the appearance and words of the three witches. Although a bold, ambitious, worldly woman, she from the first believes them, implicit faith in witchcraft and magic being evidently general, if not universal, in Scotland at this period.* She has all her hus- band's ambition, without a particle of his loyalty to the king, which prevents his following her counsels as speedily and eagerly as she wishes. Directly she hears of the king's visit, she resolves in her own mind that he shall never never leave Macbeth's castle alive. For she thoroughly believes the witches' prediction about her husband's becoming king, and, though they never suggested crime as necessary to accomplish their prophecy, she resolves to persuade Macbeth to remove every obstacle to its fulfilment, by murder or otherwise. It is, perhaps, strange that the idea never occurs to her super- stitious mind that probably Duncan and his sons were alike fated to die before Macbeth, which would ensure his lawful as well as predicted accession to the Scottish throne. This hope apparently occurred to Macbeth himself, on first hear- ing the prophecy, when he exclaimed. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. — Act I. But Lady Macbeth, more relentless as well as more ambitious than her husband, immediately conceives the horrible idea of murdering her royal guest, which she urges upon Macbeth, against his will, with the most ruthless determination. Such a crime, involving deliberate regicide, with the most fearful violation of the duties of hospitality, the real Lady Macbeth never contemplated, though a resolute woman, and person- ally hostile to King Duncan.f Indeed, a crime of this kind, which would horrify Mahometan Arabs of the desert, was wholly inconsistent with the ideas and feelings even of the most savage and ignorant Scottish chieftains. On Macbeth's arrival home, soon after his wife hears of the royal visit, she congratulates him on his new dignity and promised royalty, immediately suggesting to his agitated, unwilling mind the murder of their guest and sovereign.:]; * ' ' The high pretensions of Scotch witchcraft never degenerated, as in other countries, into a mere attempt at deception, but always remained a sturdy and deep-rooted beUef." — Buckle's Civilization, vol. iii. f Scott's History of Scotland. X Mrs. Jameson truly says that Lady Macbeth bears less resemblanc; to her D 2 36 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. She is a thoroughly hardened, ambitious woman, resolute and utterly unscrupulous. Her love for Macbeth, upon which so much stress has been laid, seems, when considered in reference to her worldly position and interests, worthy of little, if any, commendation. She knows her fortunes are now linked with his, and that with his increasing power her own will rise proportionately, owing to her influence over him. Shakespeare's noble language alone gives an apparent dignity to a base, shameless character, whose ambition is selfish and worldly. The language with which this hateful woman per- suades her brave yet weak husband to slay the king is in Shakespeare's grandest style. The same ideas, methods, and designs expressed in common parlance would surely excite only horror and disgust, with a laudable desire to punish both the temptress and tempted. For there is really nothing redeeming in their thoughts ; nothing palliating in their cir- cumstances ; nothing, in short, to arouse the least sympathy for their conduct in any way. Were they suffering from any sense of real or supposed injustice, or had they any object whatever beyond their ambition and the worldly pleasures expected from its gratification, there would be some reason, even if morally insufficient, for the deep interest, resembling compassion, if not sympathy, with which the Macbeths have been often regarded. But if their expressed thoughts are carefully examined, apart from Shakespeare's splendid lan- guage, they are merely a cruel, ungrateful, selfish couple, " choked with ambition of the meaner sort,"* who commit crime after crime without the least provocation, and only for the mean object of obtaining power and wealth, with their attendant pleasures. Yet Lady iVIacbeth has been repre- sented both on the stage and in essays with a dignity and grandeur almost worthy of Catherine of Aragon, Joan of Arc, or Margaret of Anjou. In truth, she ought to be ranked with Goneril and Regan, the wicked daughters of King Lear ; as, except in her love for Macbeth, with whom her worldly interests are completely involved, she never evinces an unselfish feeling, never utters a i,ingle noble sentiment, and seems never inspired by a single generous motive. Perhaps the most morally affecting scene in the whole play is where Macbeth, while still innocent and not ungrateful to his kind sovereign, almost begs his wife to let him abandon historical prototype than Cleopatra and Octavia to theirs, and is, therefore, more of Shakespeare's own creation. " She revels, she luxuriates in her dream of power." — Characteristics of Women. Mrs. Jameson thinks that her ambition is more for her liusband's sake than her own ; but surely neither her words nor con- duct warrant this assumption. * Henry /'/. MACBETH. 37 the assassination scheme. But she is thoroughly determined, using her influence over him with far more fiendish purpose and success than the witches had attempted to do. For, even after his interview, with them, he retains some touch of right feeling, of which she never shows the least sign ; and he gradually yields completely to her wishes and persuasion. Macbeth. We will proceed no further in this business : He hath honour'd me of late ; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady Macbeth. Was the hope drunk, Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time. Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour, As thou art in desire ? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life. And live a coward in thine own esteem ? These and many other such high-sounding words, when spoken by Mrs. Siddons and other great actresses, have apparently invested Lady Macbeth with a grandeur and interest of which her character and conduct are quite un- deserving. They might well become a heroine inspiring some craven ally with courage to attempt a daring ex- ploit. In this case, a cruel, hardened woman is urging a brave, ambitious, but not yet thoroughly unscrupulous hus- band to murder an old, helpless man — their benefactor — while asleep in their house, for the purpose of obtaining his king- dom and possessions. Lady Macbeth's courage is often mentioned ; but, con- sidering the many artful precautions she and her husband take while committing murder in their own castle, surrounded by adherents, and without giving their helpless victims the least chance either of defence or flight, it is not easy to see where they display any courage, except in braving possible consequences. Had not Macbeth's troubled conscience beset him, which his wife always dreaded, but could not entirely foresee, his usurpation of the Scottish throne might have been a permanent success. The young princes had fled the country. Macbeth was both powerful and popular with the army, and all Scotland acknowledged his rule. When tor- mented not only by his conscience, but by the ghosts of his victims, he was, of course, confounded, amazed, and unable 38 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. to refute the suspicions which his own nervous fears aroused. Had he been as hardened as his wife, and not troubled by- ghosts, his enterprise promised as good a chance of success as any bold usurper would have wished, or at least expected. But neither in the successive murders of King Duncan, his two servants, Banquo, Lady Macduff and her children, is the least sign of courage shown by either Macbeth or his wife. In each case, their safety is nearly as well secured as they could have desired. The old king is slain asleep, while his two attendants, having been drugged into heavy slumber, are also killed, when all three are helpless and unconscious. The gallant Banquo is murdered by two hired armed ruffians, who, had they failed, would never have been be- lieved, if Macbeth disavowed employing them. Lastly, Lady Macduff, a helpless woman, in her husband's absence, with her children, are also slain by hired assassins. Throughout these cowardly atrocities, Macbeth and his wife are exposed to no risk, and yet they exhort, praise, and animate each other, in grand language worthy of a true hero and heroine, which is entirely owing to Shakespeare's genius and fancy, their acts and designs being alike incompatible with true courage or heroic sentiment of any kind. When planning the king's murder, and after its commission, this wicked pair never say a word about the state of Scotland, or express any idea of advancing its prosperity.* Many assassinations and other crimes have been committed with a vague idea of doing evil that good might ensue. In Macbeth's position, had he or his wife possessed redeeming qualities, they might have believed, or tried to believe, that King Duncan, though their benefactor, yet oppressed or mis- governed their country, and that they would rule the king- dom better. No such idea is ever mentioned : they have no object whatever but to . seize the government of Scotland, with its accompanying advantages and anticipated pleasures. For this purpose, Macbeth, though at first reluctant, is in- duced by his wife to slay the king. He also kills two ser- vants, when asleep ; after which Lady Macbeth stains them with blood, she and her husband pretending that these attendants were induced by Prince Malcolm to kill his father, and that Macbeth slew them, when he discovered they had murdered the king. Shakespeare vividly describes Mac- beth as conscience-stricken and horrified before and after the murder. This account is imaginary, as history represents him quite a different man ; while Holinshed's legends, which * " The real Macbeth killed Ills sovereign Duncan in battle, and not in his own castle, and was a just and equitable ruler."— Scott's History of i^cotland, vol. i. MACBETH. 39 are chiefly followed in the play, scarcely mention his state of mind. Before the king's murder Macbeth's excited fancy makes him believe himself tempted to commit the crime by an invisible evil spirit, and he apprehensively exclaims : — Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee : — J have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation. Proceeding from the heat-oppressfed brain ? There's no such thing. — Act II. Macbeth's reluctance and his vi^ife's desire to commit this murder are described in Shakespeare's most powerful lan- guage. He feebly protests against the crime, but his wife, after scornfully ridiculing his reluctance, which she thinks a sort of cowardice, arranges the assassination in her own way, and thus reveals her plan : — When Duncan is asleep (Whereto the rather shall his liard day's journey Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince, That memory, the warder of the brain. Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only ; when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie, as in a death. What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan ? what not put upon His spongy officers ; who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell ? Shakespeare's Macbeth is surely not a natural charac- ter, and we know he was quite different from the real one. For he is a brave, loyal officer, who a short time before this scene had risked his life in King Duncan's service, and been richly rewarded for his merits. Yet now, on hearing this not only cruel, but thoroughly base and treacherous plot pro- posed, he apparently thinks it a proof of his wife's courage, for he rejoins, in a sort of admiring ecstasy, — Bring forth men-children only. For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males, and completely yields to her guidance. But there is surely nothing " undaunted " in her designs ; for she takes every precaution against the least possible risk both to herself and 40 SHAKESPEARES HISTORICAL PLAYS. him. She is evidently meant to be a person of great spirit and daring, but her plot against the king is worthy of the most cowardly assassin who was ever deservedly executed. Shakespeare makes Lady Macbeth confess that, had not Duncan resembled her own father when asleep, she would have slain him herself. This very slight touch of human feeling has been much commented on, as if it were rather redeeming, yet, if examined, it is surely of veiy little con- sequence. She was about to commit a cruel murder, but fancied the intended victim resembled one of her own family, so preferred to have him killed by another. Had he resembled any one else, she would have murdered him with- out scruple. Immediately after Duncan's murder, Macbeth's nervousness and his wife's utter callousness of spirit are con- trasted in Shakespeare's most expressive language : — Macbeth. Methought I heard a voice cry, " Sleep no more I Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady Macbeth. What do you mean? Macbeth. Still it cried, " Sleep no more ! " — Act. II. She then scornfully bids him return to the apartment of the slain king, and to stain the attendant grooms with blood. Macbeth, like a terrified child, replies : — I'll go no more ; I am afraid to think what I have done ; Look on't again I dare not. Lauy Macbeth. Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers ; the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures : 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. , If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal ; For it must seem their guilt. [Exit.'] — Act II. While she is thus employed Macbeth exclaiins, in bewil- dered horror at his crimes : — ■ Will all great Nepture's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand ? No ; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incardine, Making the green one red. — Act II. , After the king's assassination, the Princes Malcolm and Donalbain escape to England and Ireland, Macduff returning to Fife, while Banquo, once intimate with Macbeth, remains in MACBETH. 41 his castle, though no longer in his confidence. On the flight of the princes, Macbeth is proclaimed king, or assumes the title, though it is not clearly shown in the play why the prior rights of Malcolm and Donalbain are not immediately advocated by some of the Scottish chieftains. Macbeth and Banquo now distrust each other, the latter suspecting the truth ; and the newly-crowned king and queen, guessing his thoughts, resolve to destroy him also. Macbeth, however, accomplishes Banquo's murder without his wife's assistance, by bribing two murderers to slay both him and his son Fleance. These ruffians kill Banquo, but Fleance escapes to England, and there rejoins Prince Malcolm. Macbeth, in full power and unopposed, takes more trouble to effect Banquo's murder than many chiefs equally powerful and unscrupulous woul i have done. Instead of employing devoted adherents to himself — Highland bravos, bullies, or " boys of the belt," as Scott calls them — he summons, addresses, and bribes two strangers, personally hostile to Banquo, who are very poor, unfortunate, and desperate, but not particularly attached to him, and whom he has appa- ently seen only once before. 2ND Murderer. I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what I do, to spite the world. 1ST Murderer. And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on 't. King Macbeth. Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy. 2ND Murderer. True, my lord. — Act III. After Banquo's death, Macbeth gives an entertainment to his adherents and followers. At this feast Banquo's ghost appears, visible to him only. He is so terrified that his wife, though herself quite composed, has to send away the guests, wondering at Macbeth's frightened looks and words. Hitherto Lady Macbeth has never shown the least remorse for any of the murders of which she has been either the chief instigator or fully cognizant. But from the first she has been apprehensive about her husband's remorseful terrors, and now becomes utterly confounded at being unable to inspire him with her own consistent hardihood. He recovers spirit, however, when alone with her, and they both remark Macduff's absence from the fea.st, Macbeth avowing that he has spies employed about the house of every important 42 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. person. He declares that he will see the witches next day, and apparently guesses where to find them ; but his wife ex- presses no desire to accompany him, and they retire to rest. The next scene is again on the witches' heath, where Hecate, their queen, reproves her three subordinates for " trafficking with Macbeth in riddles and affairs of death " during her absence. She then departs, ordering them to meet her next morning at the pit of Acheron, and to have all their spells and charms ready, for Macbeth will certainly visit them then and there, to know his destiny.* She then flies off in a cloud, and the witches, having heard her rebuke in silence, hasten to obey, in evident fear of her superior powers. Why Hecate should rebuke them, and why they are not quite agreed, is unexplained ; but the three have apparently first met Macbeth of their own accord, without asking the terrible " mistress of their charms, the close con- triver of all harms, to bear her part, and show the glory of their art," Yet the influence they obtained over Macbeth without Hecate's assistance was apparently complete. The next scene introduces two Scottish lords, evidently perplexed and alarmed at all the recent horrors in their country, and hardly daring to utter suspicions of the success- ful usurper, which they intimate rather than avow. They state that Macduff, rejecting Macbeth's late invitation to the palace, where he would probably have met the fate of Banquo, has fled to England, where, with Prince Malcolm, at King Edward's Court, he intends seeking the active assist- ance of Lord Northumberland — " warhke Siward," a powerful nobleman — for the invasion, or rather liberation, of Scot- Ian d.f After this short but important allusion to real history, the fourth Act opens with the grandest imaginative scene of the whole play. The three witches, now in accord with Hecate, are in a dark cave, around their boiling cauldron, while thunder is heard. They fill it with poisonous herbs, limbs of snake-s, toads, and lizards ; also with the liver, nose, and lips of Jews, Tartars, and Turks, while repeating thrice in unison the words, * Gibbon states that firm belief in magic and witchcraft " reigned in every climate of the globe, and adhered to every system of religious opinion," even since Christianity, and that the nations of the Roman world "dreaded the mysterious power of spells and incantations, of potent herbs and execrable rites, which could extinguish or recall life, inflame the passions of the soul, blast the works of Creation, and extort from the reluctant demons the secret of futurity." — Decline and Fall, ch. 29. f Hume states that old Siward's daughter had been married to the murdered King Duncan. By order of his sovereign, Edward the Confessor, "he marched an army into Scotland, defeated and killed Macbeth in battle, and restored Malcolm to the throne of his ancestors." — History of England, ch. 3. MACBETH. 43 " Double, double, toil and trouble ; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble." Although so utterly malignant — even fiendish — in mind and conduct, these hags evince a nominal Christianity, by term., ing Jews blasphemers, and it seems uncertain if they call them so in mere mockery, or in accordance with the Christian ideas of the period, for of these three unchristian nations the Jews were, even in Shakespeare's time, viewed with peculiar, bitter, and prejudiced dislike. The witches, after boiling their cauldron, pronounce their charm " firm and good," when Hecate appears. She now praises their diligence, telling them to sing round the cauldron, and, promising some indefinite reward, vanishes ; and Macbeth alone enters the cavern, again confronting the three temptresses for the second and last time in his doomed life.* Macbeth, in this last scene with the witches, likewise acknowledges their malignant power over winds, corn crops, trees and castles, but not over human life. They are now more communicative and triumphant than when they had first met him on the blasted heath of Forres, as their prediction about his being king is so unexpectedly and rapidly fulfilled. For he is now King of Scotland, and, though threatened with English invasion and domestic revolution, his present rule within Scotland is undisputed. His faith in the witches being thoroughly confirmed, he entreats them in desperate language to reveal more of his future fortunes. Macbeth. I conjure you, by that which you profess (Howe'er you come to know it), answer me : Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches : though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up : Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down : Though castles topple on their warders' heads : Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope Their heads to their foundation : though the treasure Of nature's germins tumble altogether. Even till destruction sicken, answer me To what I ask you. — Act IV. They ask him, perhaps in mockery, if he had rather be informed by them or by their masters. He chooses the latter, and immediately three apparitions— -of an armed man's head, * For many centuries after Macheth's period, belief in witches and witch- craft existed even among the most learned and pious Europeans. In 1484, Pope Innocent VIII. declared that these beings " destroy the births of women and the inci'ease of cattle ; they blast the corn on the ground, the grapes in the ^'ineyards, the fruits of the trees, and the grass and herbs of the field." — Draper's Intel- lectual Development oj Europe, ch. 4. 44 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. and then two children — the first stained with blood, the second wearing a crown, and with a tree in its hand — address him by name. The first warns him against Macduff", who, since Banquo's death, has often been in Macbeth's mind as his greatest foe. The others console him by declaring severally that none " born of woman " shall harm him, and that he shall never be vanquished till Birnam wood comes to Dunsinane Hill. He knows both places well, and, reassured by these promises, fully believes he will die a peaceful death, and probably after a long and prosperous reign. Still, his jealous fear of the murdered Banquo, increased by the terror inspired by the victim's ghost, disturbs his mind, and he asks if Banquo's descendants will ever rule Scotland. His anxiety upon this point appears strange, for Malcolm and Donalbain are young ; they have a right to the crown before both himself and Banquo, so there is every chance of themselves or their descendants claiming, if not obtaining, their ancestral rights before Banquo's family. The real Macbeth had one son,* but he is never mentioned in the play, nor do the Macbeths ever say who is the person they wish to be their heir. The witches, in reply to Macbeth's question about Banquo's posterity, for the first time seem hostile to his wishes. They tell him to ask no more, while the cauldron sinks into the ground. Macbeth angrily persists, and the witches, then speaking together, summon the figures of eight kings, who silently pass in order before them. Witches. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart ; Come like shadows, so depart. After the last figure enters Banquo, who smiles triumphantly at his murderer, while the eighth king carries a glass, in which Macbeth sees many following kings, and some bearing treble sceptres, indicative of the future union of the three kingdoms under one monarch. Macbeth is in bewilderrnent, while the mocking witches dance round him, vanish, and never appear again. They have, indeed, done their work, and, with a power somewhat like that of Mephistopheles over Faust, have turned a brave, loyal general into a murderous usurper, or, rather, have first inclined him to become such, for his final and more wicked temptress is his wife.-j- To her the witches never appear ; yet she is practically under their influence far more than her husband. From the moment she hears of their prophecy on Forres heath, she believes it, * Scott's History of Scotland. t " Macbeth is excitably imaginative, and his imagination alternately stimu- lates and enfeebles him. With Lady Macbeth to perceive is forthwith to decide ; to decide is to act." — Dowden's Shakcspcat e : His Mind and Art. MACBETH. 45 urging Macbeth with all the ardour of her resolute spirit to commit a succession of crimes which she thinks necessary for its thorough fulfilment. The witches, though odious and malevolent, hating the whole human race, never suggested murder, or, indeed, any actual crime, to Macbeth's mind ; but he has now become so reckless, hardened, and unscrupulous that each subsequent atrocity seems easier than the last. Accordingly, when the witches vanish, and he hears of Mac- duff's flight to England, he resolves to slay Lady Macduff and her children. This horrid massacre is thus committed by his direct orders. The hapless lady is only once intro- duced with her eldest son, a bold, spirited lad, the first of the doomed family, who is slain by hired assassins. For com- mitting this wholesale atrocity there seems little inducement, even to such a villain as Macbeth has now become ; and there is no historical foundation for it in Holinshed's legends. It seems entirely Shakespeare's invention, who thus " on horror's head horrors accumulates." Macduff's children are young — some, probably, girls — yet neither they nor their mother are spared. After this dreadful event, Shakespeare changes the scene to England, describing a long conversation between Prince Malcolm and Macduff, the latter just arrived. This scene is taken almost literally from Holinshed's account, and, there- fore, can hardly be considered Shakespeare's composition.* Malcolm, for some reason which he does not explain, describes himself to Macduff as the most profligate, evil character pos- sible, and then asks if such a person would be fit to rule. Macduff, evidently a brave, straightforward man, not par- ticularly shrewd, believes Malcolm, and passionately bewails the fate of Scotland, thus claimed by a murderous usurper and the vicious young prince beside him. In horrified indig- nation, Macduff then renounces allegiance to the son of his late sovereign, and contemplates abandoning Scotland, when Malcolm retracts his words, declaring he never meant what he said, and assures his faithful but shocked general that he will follow his guidance, adding that "devilish Macbeth" had often tried in former years to corrupt him. This statement is made by Holinshed, and is once mentioned by Shakespeare, but there is no allusion in the beginning of the play to any such conduct on Macbeth's part. It seems, indeed, incon- sistent with his previous character — which was that of a brave and trusted officer of Duncan — to be all the time try- ing secretly to corrupt the mind of his young heir ; and there seems no foundation for it in history. * Howard Staunton's A'cto /<) //«> Illustrated Sliakespcare. 46 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. While Macduff is perplexed at Malcolm's sudden retracta- tion of his self-description, a physician, belonging, probably, to King Edward's Court, tells Malcolm that many sick people are waiting to be cured by the touch of the excellent English monarch called Edward the Saint and Confessor.* The beautiful description which Malcolm gives of this virtuous sovereign to the astonished Macduff is, indeed, a pleasing change from the guilt and mental misery which this terrible tragedy contains. Malcolm. A most miraculous work in this good king : Which often, since my here-remain in England, I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people. All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye. The mere despair of surgery, he cures ; Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken. To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. With this strange virtue. He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy ; And sundry blessings hang about his throne. That speak him full of grace. — Act IV. Macduff has just heard it, when the dreadful massacre of his family is announced to him by his cousin. Lord Rosse. He is, of course, horrified and infuriated. Malcolm tries to con- sole him, and, now thoroughly agreeing, the prince and his two generals repair to King Edward, who, both in the play and in history, gave them practical assistance in liberating Scotland from the usurper. The next act reverts in Scotland, to Dunsinane Castle, where the guilty Macbeths are preparing to resist the com- bined invading forces of Malcolm and Siward — the former commanding Scottish troops with Macduff, the latter head- ing the English. Lady Macbeth's resolute mind has now given way, owing to bodily illness, caused by mental an'xiety, and intense disappointment. Had Macbeth been from the first as determined and remorseless as herself, she would probably have retained her naturally firm, hardened spirit to the last. But he is her only weak point, and she knew it. Yet I do fear thy nature ; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, she had exclaimed, after her joy at hearing the witches' pro- * "Edward, to whom the monks gave the title of Saint and Confessor, was the first that touched for the lle. + "The Duke of York was left guardian of the realm — a place to which his birth entitled him, but which both his slender abilities and his natural connec- tions with the Duke of Lancaster rendered him utterly incapable of filling in such a dangerous emergency." — H0me".s History, \o\. ii. 8o SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. After the queen and . he leave the room, the three favorites — Bushy, Bagot, and Green — have an anxious con- ference together. These unlucky men foresee the end of their power, and, in their position, they know that loss of life is its probable accompaniment. They apparently have no military talent or influence ; are hated by both nobles and people, their only friend being the absent king, whose dangers are rapidly increasing. Bagot goes to Ireland to rejoin the king, while the others remain in England ; but they evidently believe themselves doomed, as they never mention escape to the continent, which alone might have saved their lives. Bushy. For us to levy power, Proportionable to the enemy, Is impossible. Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, Is near the hate of those love not the king. Bushy. For little office Will the hateful commons perform for us : Except, like curs, to tear us all to pieces. Bagot. Farewell, if heart's presages be not vain, We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbrcke. Green. Alas, poor duke ! the task he undertakes Is numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry : Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. Bushy. Farewell at once ; for once, for all, and ever. Green. Well, we may meet again. Bagot. I fear me, never. — Act II. The next scene changes to Gloucestershire, where Boling- broke, joined by Northumberland, is at the head of an in- creasing force, advancing steadily on London. These two leaders are just the men likely to conduct a successful insur- rection, being alike brave, cautious, and determined. Nor- thumberland is much older — perhaps more of a statesman than a warrior ; while Bolingbroke, even when a young man, was distinguished in both capacities. In the present enter- prise, however, their great qualities are little needed, for nearly all England declares for them, and revolts from Richard at first as unanimously as, nearly three centuries later, the whole country abandoned James II., in favour of the invading Prince of Orange, without a single battle.* In this scene, * " Richard's government for nearly two years [the period comprised in this play] was altogether tyrannical, and, upon the same principles that cost James II. his throne, it was unquestionably far more necessary, unless our fathers would have abandoned all thoughts of liberty, to expel Richard II."— Hallam's Middle Ams, ch. viii. KING RICHARD II. 8 1 Northumberland's brave son, Harry Percy — surnamed Hot- spur — makes his first appearance, now quite a youth. He at first hardly recognizes Bolingbroke, or waits for his father to introduce him, who presents him to his future sovereign. Northumberland. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy? Percy. No, my good lord ; for that is not forgot Which ne'er I did remember ; to my knowledge, I never in my life did look on him. Northumberland. Then learn to know him now ; this is the duke. Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service. Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young ; Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm To more approved service and desert. BoLiNGBROKK I thank thee, gentle Percy ; and be sure, I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends ; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love. It shall be still thy true love's recompense : My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. — Act II. This first meeting between the calm Bolingbroke and the dashing, fiery youth, Harry Percy, was long remembered, when, in after years, they were destined to become mortal foes. At this time Bolingbroke — now styled Duke of Lancaster — is already far more shrewd and cautious than when fiercely challenging Norfolk, about two years before, with an impetuous courage like that of young Percy himself. The bold daring of his youth is being now gradually suc- ceeded by the firm energy of early manhood ; while Harry Percy resembles what he was in dauntless courage, but has none of that steady sense and coolness which Bolingbroke always possessed. Between these two brave spirits the crafty Northumberland acts as introducer, presenting his fiery son to the ambitious prince, whom he now considers king, and supports with all his power, yet who was fated, in a few years, to destroy both him and his family. Bolingbroke is evidently pleased at the ready, frank loyalty of the bold youth before him, who, sharing his father's views, or obey- ing his wishes, is yet rather a contrast to him, being as eager and impetuous as Northumberland is cautious and designing. At this time of their lives, Bolingbroke seems to unite in himself much of Northumberland's calm prudence with Hotspur's daring bravery ; and this distinguished trio are now in complete alliance. They are soon joined by more G 82 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. nobles, with their adherents, and at last the Duke of York, nominal governor of England, meets the successful and unopposed insurgents. He at first, with the loyal spirit of the times, sharply reproaches his ambitious nephew for even returning to England while under legal sentence of banish- ment. To this, reproach Bolingbroke makes a dignified, touching reply, which is specially calculated to impress his uncle, who hears it with assumed indifference. Bolingbroke. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford : But as I come* I come for Lancaster, And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace. Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye : You are my father, for methinks in you I see old Gaunt alive ; O, then, my father ! Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd A wand'ring vagabond ; my rights and royalties Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away To upstart unthrifts ? Wherefore was I born ? If that my cousin king be king of England, It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster. You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman ; Had you first died, and he been thus trod down. He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father. To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay. My father's goods are all distrain'd, and sold ; And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd. What would you have me do ? I am a subject, And I challenge law : attorneys are denied me ; And therefore personally I lay claim To my inheritance of free descent. — Act II. York sees, however, that resistance on his part is hopeless, and coldly invites his formidable nephew to Berkeley Castle — perhaps not sorry that he has no alternative. Bolingbroke, who, all his life, showed great knowledge of human nature, then succeeds in rousing York's anger against the king, by skilfully alluding to the detested trio, "the upstart unthrifts" — Bushy, Bagot, and Green — whom he terms " the cater- pillars of the commonwealth, whom " he has " sworn to weed and pluck away." Immediately York's excitable temper is aroused, and he declares he will join Bolingbroke ; then partly recalls his words. York. It may be I will go with you : — but yet I'll pause ; For I am loath to break our country's laws. Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are : Things past redress are now with me past care. KING RICHARD II. 83 This almost childish hesitation between his feelings and his duty doubtless amused and gratified the crafty Northumber- land and many of Bolingbroke's followers. For though York was a prince of little ability, he was yet the nominal ruler in Richard's absence, eldest member of the royal family, and the only surviving brother of the late king. His alliance, or even neutrality, was therefore very valuable, and Bolingbroke's success from this time was rapid and complete. Still, some noblemen — Lord Salisbury, Lord Wiltshire, Sir Stephen Scroop, the Bishop of Carlisle, &c. — adhered to Richard, but could not delay the triumphant advance of Bolingbroke, who soon captured and executed two of the unhappy favorites — Bushy and Green — apparently without any trial. He sentences them in presence of York, who never intercedes for them ; while Northumberland and his son, Percy, are also beside him, and see his orders executed. Bolingbroke. Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls (Since presently your souls must part your bodies) With too much urging your pernicious lives, For 'twere no charity : yet, to wash your blood From off my hands, here, in the view of men, I will unfold 'some causes of your deaths. You have misled a prince, a royal king, A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments, By you unhappied and disfigur'd clean.* Myself — a prince, by fortune of my birth ; Near to the king in blood ; and near in love, Till you did make him misinterpret me, — Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries, And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds, Eating the bitter bread of banishment ; While you have fed upon my seignories, Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods ; From mine own windows torn my household coat, Raz'd out my impress, leaving me no sign — Save men's opinions, and my living blood — To show the world I am a gentleman. This, and much more, much more than twice all this, Condemns you to the death. My Lord Northumberland, see them despatch'd. — Act III. To which request that zealous, unscrupulous nobleman makes no objection, though most of their offences were committed by the will of Richard H. Bolingbroke then sends a cautious message to the captured queen, who is at the Duke of York's house, assuring her of respectful treatment, and prepares to • Completely. G 2 84 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. encounter the Welsh chief, Owen Glendower, who had shown some signs of resistance in behalf of the king. The next scene describes Richard's return to England, attended by his faithful adherent, the Bishop of Carlisle, and by his cousin, the deceitful Aumerle. Richard, in this impor- tant scene, reveals more of his peculiar character than has yet appeared. He is at first delighted at returning to England, and confident that directly his arrival is known, all rebellion will cease. He speaks, therefore, in high-flown, exaggerated language, but his excitable spirit is soon depressed by Salisbury's arrival, telling him that a large part of his army has already joined Bolingbroke.* Sir Stephen Scroop follows, with yet more disastrous news of Bolingbroke's complete success throughout England. Richard, amazed, asks about Lord Wiltshire, Bushy, Green, &c., and now losing confidence in every one, suspects they have also " made peace " with his enemy. Scroop gravely replies that they have, indeed, " made their peace " with him, which Richard mistakes for their treachery. He utters furious reproaches against his late favorites, for whom he had always, perhaps, more liking than esteem ; but his rage turns to despair at hearing of their executions by Bolingbroke's order. Bagot, however, was not executed, and Scroop does not name him. Richard's despair is now complete ; he sees nothing but treason, desertion, and ruin before him. King Richard. Of comfort no man speak : Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs ; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. Let's choose executors, and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? Our lands, our lives, and all, are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings : — How some have been depos'd, some slain in war, Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd : Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd ; All murdei'd : — for within the hollow crowQ That rounds the mortal temples of a king * " Richard alternates between abject despondency and an airy, unreal con- fidence. There is in Richard, as Coleridge has finely observed, ' a constant over- flow of emotions, from a total incapability of controlling them, and thence a waste of that energy which should have been reserved for actions, in the pas;sion and effort of mere resolves and menaces.' " — Dowden's Shakespeare's Mind ana Art. KING RICHARD II. 85 Keeps Death his court ; and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp — Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks ; Infusing him with self and vain conceit — As if this flesh, which walls about our life, Were brass impregnable — and, humour'd thus, Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and — farewell king ! — Act III. The Bishop of Carlisle tries to console and rouse him, and is apparently succeeding, when the final news of his uncle York's defection arrives. This intelligence probably depresses Richard's advisers as much as himself, for no word of hope or encouragement is uttered after its announcement. The king dismisses his remaining followers, repairing to Flint Castle, there to await his triumphant foe, whose prisoner he already considers himself, and against whom he abandons all idea of resistance.* The next scene brings Bolingbroke, with York, Northum- berland, young Hotspur, &c., before the walls of Flint Castle, where Richard, with the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, and Sir Stephen Scroop, are helplessly awaiting their fate. Aumerle, however, is in little danger, owing to his father's influence, who is treated with the highest respect by Bolingbroke. York's present position as an elderly, whimsical prince, surrounded by ambitious, fiery young men, and crafty old ones, is embarrassing, yet almost ludicrous. He pettishly reproves Northumberland, even at this crisis, for naming Richard without his kingly title, for which omis- sion the ambitious earl, probably laughing to himself, offers a slight apology. York even comforts his own vexed spirit and uneasy conscience by slightly reprimanding his triumphant nephew, who hears him with politic calmness, but, doubtless, secret impatience. York. It would become the Lord Northumberland To say King Richard. Northumberland. Your grace mistakes ; only to be brief. Left I his tide out. York. The time hath been. Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with you, to shorten you. For taking so the head, your whole head's length. * "The sincere concurrence which most of the prelates and nobility, with the mass of the people, gave to changes, which would not otherwise have been effected by one so unprovided with foreign support as Henry Bolingbroke, proves this revolution (1399) to have been, if not an indispensable, yet a national act." — Hallam's Middle Ages, ch. viii. 86 SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORICAL PLAYS. BoLiNGBROKE. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you should. York. Take not, good cousin, farther than you should. Lest you mistake : the heavens are o'er our heads. BoLiNGBROKE. I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself Against their will.— ^ Act III. For he now summons the unfortunate king, through North- umberland, to surrender. Richard reproaches the latter, then bewails his misfortunes, and finally surrenders to Bolingbroke. King Richard. What must the king do now ? Must he submit ? The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd ? The king shall be contented : Must he lose The name of king? o' God's name let it go : I'll give my jewels, for a set of beads ; My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage ; My gay apparel, for an almsman's gown ; My sceptre, for a palmer's walking staff; My subjects, for a pair of carved saints; And my large kingdom, for a little grave, A little, little grave, an obscure grave : — Or I'll be buried in the king's highway. Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet May hourly trample on their sovereign's head : For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live ; And, buried once, why not upon my head ? — Act III. Bolingbroke preserves a respectful manner to his royal prisoner, which never comforts Richard, who, without either defying him or showing personal fear, apparently finds a morbid relief in describing and exaggerating his own humili- ation. Although his grand language is Shakespeare's inven- tion, the feelings it expresses agree with historical records of both his disposition and state of mind.* Aumerle, however, is represented more steadily faithful to Richard than he really was, and, indeed, Shakespeare's sketch of him is not very clear or satisfactory. For he is trusted by Richard in his extremity, and yet accuses the king's unhappy favorite, Bagot, when a prisoner in the presence of Bolingbroke. Previous to this scene, Shakespeare introduces one entirely of his own invention, where the young Queen Isabella is staying at her uncle the Duke of York's country residence. In his garden, she, with her attendant, overhear the gardeners talking over public affairs, and professionally comparing her husband's executed favourites to " weeds plucked up by the * Hume's History ; also, Hallam's, KING RICHARD II. 8/ roots." Also, they hear that Bolingbroke has actually cap- tured the king, of which the queen was not hitherto aware. In angry impatience, she asks the gardeners if their news is true, and, when convinced of it, rather petulantly hopes that their plants may never grow, and then hastens to London, to meet, if possible, her captive husband. The next scene describe.s, amid a large assemblage of influential men, the unfortunate Bagot — now a prisoner before Bolingbroke— accusing Aumerle of a share in the Duke of Gloster's murder, many years before. Bagot's sub- sequent fate is not mentioned, but he probably escaped that of his luckless friends, Bushy and Green.* Aumerle, how- ever, boldly denies this charge, and is then challenged by several noblemen, who believe him guilty, to single combat. Even Hotspur, though only a youth, eagerly offers to fight him, already showing that fiery spirit which made him so remarkable even in that fierce age. Aumerle. Princes and noble lords. What answer shall I make to this base man ? There is my gage, the manual seal of death, That marks tliee out for hell : I say, thou liest, And will maintain what thou hast said is false, In thy heart-blood, though being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword. Bolingbroke. Bagot, forbear ; thou shalt not take it up. FiTZWATER. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine : I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it. That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it twenty times, thou liest ; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. Aumerle. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see the day. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest ; his honour is as true, In this appeal, as thou art all unjust : And, that thou art so, there I'll throw my gage, To prove it on thee to the extremes! point Of mortal breathing : seize it, if thou dar'st Aumerle. And if I do not, may my hands rot off, And never brandish more revengeful steel Over the glittering helmet of my foe !— Act IV. * " It appears from a petition of 1400 that one Bagot h