Chapter V: The Age of Elizabeth (2)

Shakespeare’s later poetical work is worthily represented in the numerous lyrics that are scattered through the plays. It is not quite certain how much of the songs is original; it is almost certain that Shakespeare, like Burns, used popular songs as the basis of many of his lyrics. As they stand, however, the lyrics show a great range of accomplishment, most of it of the highest quality. It varies from the nonsense-verses in _Hamlet_ and _King Lear_ to the graceful perfection of Ariel’s “Full fathom five”; from the homely rusticity of “It was a lover and his lass” to the scholarly ease and wry humor of “O mistress mine”; it includes such gems as the willow-song in _Othello_, “Take, O take those lips away,” in _Measure for Measure_, and the noble dirge, “Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,” in _Cymbeline_. If Shakespeare had not been our greatest dramatist, he would have taken a place among our greatest lyrical poets.

=3. His Plays.= Concerning the plays that are usually accepted as being Shakespeare’s, almost endless discussion has arisen. In the following pages we shall indicate the main lines of Shakesperian criticism.

(_a_) THE ORDER OF THE PLAYS. All the manuscripts of the plays have perished; Shakespeare himself printed none of the texts; and though eighteen of them appeared singly in quarto form during his lifetime, they were all unauthorized editions. It was not till 1623, seven years after his death, that the First Folio edition was printed. It contained thirty-six dramas (_Pericles_ was omitted), and these are now universally accepted as Shakespeare’s. In the Folio edition the plays are not arranged chronologically, nor are the dates of composition given. The dates of the separate Quartos are registered at Stationers’ Hall, but these are the dates of the printing. With such scanty evidence to hand to assign the order of the plays, a task fundamental to all discussion of the dramas, much ingenious deductive work has been necessary. The evidence can be divided into three groups.

(1) _Contemporary References._ With one important exception, such are of little value. The exception occurs in a book by Francis Meres (1565–1647), an Elizabethan schoolmaster. In _Palladis Tamia, Wit’s Treasury_ (1598) he gives a list of contemporary authors, among whom is Shakespeare. Meres mentions twelve of Shakespeare’s plays, along with “his _Venus and Adonis_, his _Lucrece_, and his sugred sonnets among his private friends.” This valuable reference supplies us with a list of plays which were written before 1598.

(2) _Internal References._ In the course of the plays there occur passages, more or less obscure, that can be traced to contemporary events. Such are the references to “the imperial votaress” (perhaps Elizabeth) in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, to “the two-fold balls and treble sceptres” (perhaps the Union of 1603) in _Macbeth_, and to a famous eclipse of the moon in the _Sonnets_. Owing to the invariable obscurity of the passages, this class of evidence should be used cautiously, but unfortunately it has been made the basis of much wild theorizing.

(3) _The Literary Evidence._ Soberly examined, and taken strictly in conjunction with the statement of Meres and the dates of the Quartos (when these are available), this type of evidence is by far the most reliable. We can examine the workmanship of the plays, paying attention to the construction of the plots, the force and originality of the characters, the standard of style, the metrical dexterity--in short, the general level of competence. In a general survey of the dramas no great skill is necessary on the part of the reader to observe a distinct variation in craftsmanship. By grading the plays according to their literary development a certain rough approximation of date can be deduced.

(_b_) THE DATES OF THE PLAYS. The following table, which to a large extent is the outcome of generations of discussion and contention, represents a moderate or average estimate of the dates of the plays. It can be only an approximate estimate, for no exact decision can ever be possible.

1590

1 _Henry VI_

1591–2

2 _Henry VI_
3 _Henry VI_

1593

_Richard III_
_Edward III_ (in part)
_The Comedy of Errors_

1594

_Titus Andronicus_
_The Taming of the Shrew_
_Love’s Labour’s Lost_
_Romeo and Juliet_

1595

_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_
_The Two Gentlemen of Verona_
_King John_

1596

_Richard II_
_The Merchant of Venice_

1597

1 _Henry IV_

1598

2 _Henry IV_
_Much Ado about Nothing_

1599

_Henry V_
_Julius Cæsar_

1600

_The Merry Wives of Windsor_
_As You Like It_

1601

_Hamlet_
_Twelfth Night_

1602

_Troilus and Cressida_
_All’s Well that Ends Well_

1603

(Theaters closed)

1604

_Measure for Measure_
_Othello_

1605

_Macbeth_
_King Lear_

1606

_Antony and Cleopatra_
_Coriolanus_

1607

_Timon of Athens_ (unfinished)

1608

_Pericles_ (in part)

1609

_Cymbeline_

1610

_The Winter’s Tale_

1611

_The Tempest_

1613

_The Two Noble Kinsmen_ (in part)
_Henry VIII_ (in part)

(_c_) CLASSIFICATION OF THE PLAYS. It is customary to group the plays into sets that to some extent traverse the order given above.

(1) _The Early Comedies._ In these plays there is a certain amount of immaturity: the plots show less originality; the characters are less finished; the power of the style is less sustained; the humor is often puerile and quibbling; and there is a large amount of prose. Of this type are _The Comedy of Errors_, _Love’s Labour’s Lost_, and _The Two Gentlemen of Verona_.

(2) _The Histories._ These show an advance, particularly in style. There is more blank verse, which, though it is often stiffly imitative of the older playwrights, abounds in splendid passages. The appearance of such characters as Falstaff in _Henry IV_ and other plays is a sign of growing strength.

(3) _The Tragedies._ The great tragedies, such as _Hamlet_, _Macbeth_, and _King Lear_, are the climax of Shakespearian art. They reveal the best of his characterization and the full power of his style.

(4) _The Later Comedies._ A mellowed maturity is the chief feature of this group, which contains _Cymbeline_, _The Winter’s Tale_, and _The Tempest_. The creative touch of the dramatist, making living men out of figment, is abundantly in view; the style is notable and serenely adequate; and with the ease of the master the author thoroughly subdues the meter to his will. No more fitting conclusion--rich, ample, and graciously dignified--could be found to round off the work of our greatest literary genius.

=4. His Prose.= Shakespeare’s prose appears all through the plays, sometimes in passages of considerable length. In the aggregate the amount is quite large. In the earlier comedies the amount is considerable, but the proportion is apt to diminish in the later plays. With regard to the prose, the following points should be observed: (_a_) it is the common vehicle for comic scenes, though used too in serious passages (one of which is given below); (_b_) it represents the common speech of the period, and some of it, as can be seen in _Hamlet_, is pithy and bracing. Even the rather stupid clowning that often takes place cannot altogether conceal its beauty.

We quote a passage from _Hamlet_. The style is quite modern in phrase, and the beauty and grace of it are far beyond the ordinary standard of Shakespeare’s literary contemporaries.

I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to
me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air,
look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof
fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me
but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece
of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculty!
in form, in moving, how express and admirable! in action how
like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of
the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this
quintessence of dust?
_Hamlet_

=5. Features of his Plays.= The extent, variety, and richness of the plays are quite bewildering as one approaches them. All that can be done here is to set down in order some of the more obvious of their qualities.

(_a_) _Their Originality._ In the narrowest sense of the term, Shakespeare took no trouble to be original. Following the custom of the time, he borrowed freely from older plays (such as _King Leir_), chronicles (such as Holinshed’s), and tales (such as _The Jew_, the part-origin of _The Merchant of Venice_). To these he is indebted chiefly for his plots; but in his more mature work the interest in the plot becomes subordinate to the development of character, the highest achievement of the dramatist’s art. He can work his originals deftly: he can interweave plot within plot, as in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_; he can solidify years of history into five acts, as in _King John_ and _Antony and Cleopatra_; and, as in _Macbeth_, he makes the dust of history glow with the spirit of his imagination.

(_b_) _Characters._ (1) In sheer _prodigality of output_ Shakespeare is unrivaled in literature. From king to clown, from lunatic and demi-devil to saint and seer, from lover to misanthrope--all are revealed with the hand of the master. Surveying this multitude, one can only cry out, as Hamlet does, “What a piece of work is man!”

(2) Another feature of Shakespeare’s characterization is his attitude of _impartiality_. He seems indifferent to good and evil; he has the eye of the creator, viewing bright and dismal things alike, provided they are apt and real. In his characters vice and virtue commingle, and the union is true to the common sense of humanity. Thus the villain Iago is a man of resolution, intelligence, and fortitude; the murderer Claudius (in _Hamlet_) shows affection, wisdom, and fortitude; the peerless Cleopatra is narrow, spiteful, and avaricious; and the beast Caliban has his moments of ecstatic vision. The list could be extended almost without limit, but these examples must serve.

(3) Hence follows the _vital force_ that resides in the creations of Shakespeare. They live, move, and utter speech; they are rounded, entire, and capable. Very seldom, and that almost entirely in the earlier plays, he uses the wooden puppets that are the stock-in-trade of the inferior dramatist. Of such a kind are some of his “heavy” fathers, like Egeus (in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_), and his sentimental lovers, like Orsino (in _Twelfth Night_). Yet, as a rule, in the hands of Shakespeare the heavy father can develop into such living beings as the meddlesome old bore Polonius (in _Hamlet_), and the tediously sentimental lover can become the moody and headstrong Romeo, or the virile and drolly humorous Orlando (in _As You Like It_).

(_c_) _Meter._ As in all the other features of his work, in meter Shakespeare shows abnormal range and power. In the earlier plays the blank verse is regular in beat and pause; there is a fondness for the stopped and rhymed couplet; and in a few cases the couplet passes into definite stanza-formation in a manner suggestive of the early pre-Shakespearian comedies.

_Lysander._ Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears:
Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
In their nativity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true?
_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_

As Shakespeare becomes more sure of his instrument the verse increases in ease and dexterity; the cadence is varied; the pause is shifted to any position in the line. In the later plays there is an especial fondness for the extra syllable at the end of the line. And before he finishes he has utterly subdued the meter to his will. In the last line of the extract now given every foot is abnormal:

_Lear._ And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou’lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
_King Lear_

(_d_) _Style._ For lack of a better name we call Shakespeare’s style Shakesperian. One can instantly recognize it, even in other authors, where it is rarely visible. It is a difficult, almost an impossible, matter to define it. There is aptness and quotability in it: sheaves of Shakespeare’s expressions have passed into common speech. To a very high degree it possesses sweetness, strength, and flexibility; and above all it has a certain inevitable and final felicity that is the true mark of genius.

The following specimen shows the average Shakespearian style, if such a thing exists at all. It is not extremely elevated or poetical, but it is strong, precise, and individual.

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.
_Hamlet_

Such a style moves easily into the highest flights of poetry:

(1) That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O! it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
_Twelfth Night_

(2) _Cleopatra._ Come, thou mortal wretch,

[_To the asp, which she applies to her breast._

With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie; poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch....

_Charmian._ O eastern star!

_Cleopatra._ Peace, peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?
_Antony and Cleopatra_

Or it can plumb the depths of terror and despair. The following are the words of a condemned wretch shivering on the brink of extinction:

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
Of those that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling: ’tis too horrible!
_Measure for Measure_

The style lends itself to the serenely ecstatic reverie of the sage:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
_The Tempest_

It can express, on the other hand, the bitterest cynicism:

But, man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.
_Measure for Measure_

Or, in prose, Shakespeare can put into words the artless pathos of the humble hostess of the inn:

_Hostess._ Nay, sure, he’s not in hell: he’s in Arthur’s
bosom, if ever man went to Arthur’s bosom. A’ made a finer end
and went away an it had been any christom child; a’ parted even
just between twelve and one, even at the turning o’ the tide;
for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers
and smile upon his fingers’ ends, I knew that there was but one
way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’ babbled of green
fields. “How now, Sir John?” quoth I: “what, man! be of good
cheer.” So a’ cried out “God, God, God!” three or four times.
_Henry V_

Shakespeare can rant, and often rants badly; but at its best his ranting glows with such imaginative splendor that it becomes a thing of fire and majesty:

His legs bestrid the ocean; his reared arm
Crested the world; his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in’t, an autumn ’twas
That grew the more by reaping; his delights
Were dolphin-like, they showed his back above
The element they lived in; in his livery
Walked crowns and crownets, realms and islands were
As plates dropped from his pocket.
_Antony and Cleopatra_

With such a style as this Shakespeare can compass the world of human emotion, and he does so.

=6. Summary.= “He was the man,” said Dryden, “who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul.”

POST-SHAKESPEARIAN DRAMA

In the following section it will be found that, although much of the work was composed during Shakespeare’s lifetime, the most typical of the plays appeared after his death. On the whole, moreover, the work marks a decline from the Shakespearian standard, and so we are probably justified in calling this type of drama post-Shakespearian.

=1. Ben Jonson (1573–1637)= was born at Westminster, and educated at Westminster School. His father died before Jonson’s birth, and the boy adopted the trade of his stepfather, who was a master bricklayer. Bricklaying did not satisfy him for long, and he became a soldier, serving in the Low Countries. From this he turned to acting and writing plays, engaging himself, both as actor and playwright, with the Lord Admiral’s company (1597). At first he had little success, and the discouragement he encountered then must have done much to sour a temper that was not at any time very genial. In his combative fashion he took part freely in the squabbles of the time, and in 1598 he killed a fellow-actor in a duel, narrowly escaping the gallows. On the accession of James I in 1603 there arose a new fashion for picturesque pageants known as masques, and Jonson turned his energies to supplying this demand, with great success. After this period (160315) he commanded great good-fortune, and during this time his best work was produced. In 1617 he was created poet to the King, and the close of James’s reign saw Jonson the undisputed ruler of English literature. His favorite haunt was the Mermaid Tavern, where he reigned as dictator over a younger literary generation. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, and over him was placed the epitaph “O rare Ben Jonson!”

Jonson’s works, extremely voluminous and of varying merit, can be classified for convenience into comedies, tragedies, masques, and lyrics. His one considerable prose work, a kind of commonplace book, to which he gave the curious name of _Timber_, is of much interest, but does not affect his general position.

He began with the comedy _Every Man in his Humour_, which was written in 1598; then followed _Every Man out of His Humour_ (1599), _Cynthia’s Revels_ (1600), and _The Poetaster_ (1601). These earliest comedies are rather tedious in their characters, for they emphasize unduly the “humor” or peculiar characteristic of each individual. They are, however, ingenious in plot, rich in rugged and not entirely displeasing fun, and full of vivacity and high spirits. The later group of comedies shows a decided advance. The characters are less angular, livelier, and much more convincing; the style is more matured and equable. Such comedies, perhaps the best of all Jonson’s dramatic work, are _Volpone, or The Fox_ (1605), _Epicene, or The Silent Woman_ (1609), and _The Alchemist_ (1610). His last comedies are lighter and more farcical, and show less care and forethought. They include _Bartholomew Fair_ (1614), _The Devil Is an Ass_ (1616), and _The Staple of News_ (1625). His last unfinished play, _The Sad Shepherd_, a pastoral comedy, is unapproached among his dramas for its combination of sober reflection, lightness of fancy, and delicacy of touch. In nearly all his comedies Jonson opened up a vein that was nearly new and was to be very freely worked by his successors--the comedy of London life and humors, reflecting the manners of the day.

His two historical tragedies, _Sejanus his Fall_ (1603) and _Catiline his Conspiracy_ (1611), are too labored and mechanical to be reckoned as great tragedies, though their author would fain have had them so. They show immense learning, they have power, variety, and insight, but they lack the last creative touch necessary to stamp them with reality, and to give them a living appeal.

As for his masques, they are abundant, graceful, and humorously ingenious. Into them Jonson introduced the device of the anti-masque, which parodied the principal theme. The best of them are _The Masque of Beauty_ (1608), _The Masque of Queens_ (1609), and _Oberon, the Fairy Prince_ (1611).

The lyrics, which are freely introduced into his plays, and the elegies, epitaphs, and other occasional pieces, many of which appeared in a volume called _Underwoods_ (“consisting of divers poems”), represent Jonson’s work in its sweetest and most graceful phase. His song, a translation from Philostratus, beginning “Drink to me only with thine eyes,” is deservedly famous. We cannot resist quoting two brief but typical pieces:

(1) Have you seen but a bright lillie grow,
Before rude hands have touch’d it?
Have you mark’d but the fall of the snow
Before the soyle hath smutch’d it?
Have you felt the wooll of the bever?
Or swan’s downe ever?
Or have smelt of the bud of the brier?
Or the nard on the fire?
Or have tasted the bag of the bee?
O so white! O so soft! O so sweet is she!
_The Triumph_

(2) Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother:
Death, ere thou hast slain another,
Learned, and fair, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee!
_Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke_[99]

In the estimation of his own age Jonson stood second to none; to a later generation he is overshadowed by the towering bulk of Shakespeare. But even the enormous prestige of Shakespeare cannot or ought not to belittle the merits of Jonson. Of Jonson we can justly say that he had all good literary gifts except one, and that the highest and most baffling of all--true genius. He had learning--perhaps too much of it; industry and constancy well beyond the ordinary; versatility; a crabbed and not unamiable humor, diversified with sweetness, grace, and nimbleness of wit; and a style quite adequate to his needs. But the summit of it all--the magical phrase that catches the breath, the immortal spirit that creates out of words and buckram “forms more real than living man”--these were lacking; and without these he cannot join the circle of the very great.

=2. Francis Beaumont (1584–1616)= and =John Fletcher (1575–1625)= combined to produce a great number of plays, said to be fifty-two in all. How much of the joint work is to be assigned to the respective hands is not accurately known.

The elder, Fletcher, was a cousin of Giles and Phineas Fletcher (see (p. 101), and was born at Rye, Sussex. He was educated at Cambridge, and lived the life of a London literary man. He died of the plague in 1625. His colleague Beaumont, who was probably the abler of the two, was the son of a judge, Sir Francis Beaumont, was educated at Oxford, and entered the Inner Temple (1600), but was captivated by the attractions of a literary life. He died almost within a month of Shakespeare, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

They excelled in comedy, especially in the comedy of London life. Theirs is not the heavy “humorous” comedy of Jonson, but is lighter and more romantic. Their characters are slighter, but more pleasing and human; their humor is free and genial, and their representation of contemporary life is happy and attractive. Their plots are ingenious and workmanlike, and their incidents numerous and striking. Their style shows a distinct decline from the high standard of Shakespeare. They have a greater fondness for prose, their blank verse is looser and weaker, but they are capable of poetical lines and phrases. Typical comedies are _A King and No King_ (1611), esteemed by Dryden the best of them all, _The Knight of the Burning Pestle_ (1611), a very agreeable farce, and _The Scornful Lady_ (1616). Their tragedies, such as _The Maid’s Tragedy_ (1619), _Philaster_ (1620), suggesting _Twelfth Night_, and _The Faithful Shepherdess_ (by Fletcher alone), are not too tragical, and they are diversified by attractive incidents and descriptions.

=3. George Chapman (1559–1634)= was born at Hitchin. Beyond this fact little is known of him. He took part in the literary life of his time, for his name appears in the squabbles of his tribe. He died in London.

His first play, _The Blind Beggar of Alexandria_ (1596) was followed by many more, both comical and tragical. Among them are _Bussy d’Ambois_ (1597), _Charles, Duke of Byron_ (1608), and _The Tragedie of Chabot_ (1639). These are historical plays, dealing with events nearly contemporary with his own time. Chapman’s comedies include _All Fools_ (1605) and _Eastward Hoe!_ (1605), in the latter of which he combined with Jonson and Marston. Chapman writes agreeably and well; he has firmness, competence, and variety, and his comic and tragic powers are considerable. His translation of _Homer_ has something of the pace and music of the original.

=4. John Marston (1575–1634)= was born at Coventry, was educated there and at Oxford, became a literary figure in London, and later took orders. Latterly he resigned his living in Hampshire, and died in London.

Marston specialized in violent and melodramatic tragedies, which do not lack a certain impressiveness, but which are easily parodied and no less easily lead to abuse. They impressed his own generation, who rated him with Jonson. For a later age they are spoiled to a great extent by exaggeration, rant, and excessive speeches. Typical of them are _Antonio and Mellida_ (1602) and _Antonio’s Revenge_ (1602), which were ridiculed by Jonson in _The Poetaster_.

=5. Thomas Dekker (1570–1641)= was born in London, where his life was passed as a literary hack and playwright. His plays, chiefly comedies, have an attraction quite unusual for the time. They have a sweetness, an arch sentimentality, and an intimate knowledge of common men and things that have led to his being called the Dickens of the Elizabethan stage. His plots are chaotic, and his blank verse, which very frequently gives place to prose, is weak and sprawling. The best of his plays are _Old Fortunatus_ (1600), _The Shoemaker’s Holiday_ (1600), and _Satiromastix_ (1602). He collaborated with other playwrights, including Ford and Rowley, with whom he wrote _The Witch of Edmonton_ (about 1633), and Massinger, in _The Virgin Martyr_ (1622).

=6. Thomas Middleton (1570–1627)= was born in London, wrote much for the stage, and in 1620 was made City Chronologer.

He is one of the most equable and literary of the dramatists of the age; he has a decided fanciful turn; he is a close observer and critic of the life of the time, and a dramatist who on a few occasions can rise to the heights of greatness. His most powerful play, which has been much praised by Lamb and others, is _The Changeling_ (1624); others are _Women beware Women_ (1622), _The Witch_, which bears a strong resemblance to _Macbeth_, and _The Spanish Gipsy_ (1623), a romantic comedy suggesting _As You Like It_. Along with Dekker he wrote _The Roaring Girle, or Moll Cutpurse_ (1611), which is a close dramatic parallel to the earliest novels.

=7. Thomas Heywood (1575–1650)= was born in Lincolnshire about 1575, was educated at Cambridge, and became an author and dramatist in London. He himself asserts that he had a hand (“or at least a main finger”) in two hundred and twenty plays, of which twenty-three survive.

Like so many more dramatists of the time, he excelled in his pictures of London life and manners. He was a rapid and light improviser, an expert contriver of stage situations, but otherwise content with passable results, and caring little about the higher flights of the dramatist. His best play is _A Woman Killed with Kindnesse_ (1603), which contains some strongly pathetic scenes; _The English Traveller_ (1633) is only slightly inferior. Other plays of his are _The Royall King_ (1600), _The Captives_ (1624), and a series of clumsy historical dramas, including _King Edward the Fourth_ (1600) and _The Troubles of Queene Elizabeth_ (1605).

=8. John Webster=, who flourished during the first twenty years of the seventeenth century, excels his fellows as a tragical artist. Next to nothing is known regarding his life, and much of his work has been lost, but what remains is sufficient to show that he was a writer of no mean ability. Selecting themes of gloomy and supernatural horror, of great crimes and turbulent emotions and desires, he rises to the height of his argument with an ability equal to his ambition. In several respects--in bleak horror and in largeness of tragical conception--he resembles Marlowe; but he is terse and precise when Marlowe is simply turgid; his plots have the inexorable march of Fate itself; and he far excels Marlowe in brief and almost blinding flashes of sorrow and pity. His two great plays are _The White Devil_ (1612) and _The Duchess of Malfy_ (1623). Other and inferior plays ascribed to him are _The Devil’s Law Case_ (1623) and _Appius and Virginia_.

=9. Cyril Tourneur= (1575–1626) seems to have been a soldier and to have served in the Low Countries. He took part in Buckingham’s disastrous expedition to Cadiz, and on his return died in Ireland.

In the work of Tourneur we have horrors piled on horrors. His two plays _The Revenger’s Tragedy_ (1600) and _The Atheist’s Tragedy_ (1611) are melodramatic to the highest degree. He attempts much, but achieves little. He does not lack a certain poetic sensibility; but he lacks grip, method, and balance, and he is weakest where Webster is strongest.

THE ENGLISH BIBLE: THE AUTHORIZED VERSION

In the last chapter we indicated the growth of the Bible from the earliest to Reformation times. The task of translation was completed by the issue of _King James’s Bible_, or the _Authorized Version_ (1611).

The need for a standard text was urged during the conference between the dissentient sects held at Hampton Court in 1604. James I, who was present at some stages of the conference, approved of the project. Forty-seven scholars, including the ablest professorial and episcopal talent, were appointed for the task; they were divided into six companies, each receiving a certain portion of the Biblical text for translation; each company revised the work of its fellow-translators. The task, begun in 1607, was completed in 1611. Since that date little of sufficient authority has been done to shake the Authorized Version’s dominating position as the greatest of English translations.

It may be of use here to set down some of the more obvious features of this great work.

=1.= With regard to the actual work of =translation=, it ought to be regarded simply as the climax of a long series of earlier translations. The new translators came to handle a large mass of work already in existence. All the debatable ground in the texts had been fought over again and again, and in a dim fashion a standard was emerging. The translators themselves acknowledge this in the preface to their work: their task, they say, is “to make a good one better, or out of many good ones one principal good one.” In other words, their task was largely one of selection and amendment. The reliance upon earlier work resulted in a certain old-fashioned flavor that was felt even in Jacobean times. “It is not the English,” says Hallam, “of Daniel or Ralegh or Bacon.... It abounds, especially in the Old Testament, in obsolete phraseology.” It is a tribute to the compelling power and beauty of the Authorized Version that its archaisms have long been accepted as permissible, and even inevitable. Allowing, however, for all the reliance upon earlier work, one cannot overpraise the sound judgment, the artistic taste, and the sensitive ear of every member of the band who built up such a stately monument to our tongue.

=2. Diversity of the Work.= One can best appreciate the vastness and complexity of the Bible by recollecting that it is not a single book, but an entire literature, or even two literatures, for both in time and temper the New Testament is separated from the Old. The different books of the Bible were composed at widely different times, and many hands worked at them. Their efforts resulted in a huge collection of all the main species of literature--expository, narrative, and lyrical. These will be noticed in their order below.

=3. Unity of the Work.= If the Bible were a collection of discordant elements it would not possess its peculiar literary attraction. In spite of the diversity of its sources it has a remarkable uniformity of treatment and spirit. The core and substance of the entire work is the belief and delight in the Divine Spirit; and, added to this, especially in the Old Testament, a fiery faith in the pre-eminence of the Jewish race. With regard to the literary style, from cover to cover it is almost unvaried: firm, clear, simple, dignified, and thoroughly English. It represents the broad and stable average of the labors of generations of devout and ardent men; and it endureth unshaken.

=4. The Expository Portions.= Considered from the purely literary point of view, the expository parts (that is, those that contain exhortation, information, or advice) are of least importance. In bulk they are considerable, and include the Book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament and the Pauline Epistles in the New. They have all the distinction of the Biblical style, and they are expressed with clearness, dignity, and precision.

=5.= The =narrative portions= include the bulk of the Bible, and are of great literary interest and value. In the Old Testament they comprise the Pentateuch and many other books, and in the New Testament they include the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. The tone of the Old Testament differs somewhat from that of the New. As can be supposed, the former is often harsher in note, and is sometimes confused and contradictory (from the unsatisfactory condition of some of the texts); the New Testament narrative, which came under the influence of the Greek, is more scholarly and liberal in tone. Both, however, have a breadth, solidity, and noble austerity of style that make the Biblical narrative stand alone. It is perhaps unnecessary to quote, but one short specimen may not be out of place:

Then took they him, and led him, and brought him into the high
priest’s house. And Peter followed afar off.

And when they had kindled a fire in the midst of the hall, and
were set down together, Peter sat down among them.

But a certain maid beheld him as he sat by the fire, and
earnestly looked upon him, and said, This man was also with him.

And he denied him, saying, Woman, I know him not.

And, after a little while, another saw him, and said, Thou art
also of them. And Peter said, Man, I am not.

And about the space of one hour after, another confidently
affirmed, saying, Of a truth this fellow also was with him; for
he is a Galilean.

And Peter said, Man, I know not what thou sayest. And
immediately, when he yet spake, the cock crew.

And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered
the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the cock
crow, thou shalt deny me thrice.

And Peter went out, and wept bitterly.
_St. Luke_

=6. The Lyrical Portions.= These (which include the Psalms, the Song of Solomon, much of the Book of Job, and the frequent passages, such as the song of Sisera, which occur in the narrative books) are perhaps the most important as literature. In addition to their native shrewdness and persistence, the Jews had a strongly emotional strain, which finds wide expression in the Bible. Their poetry, like that of the Old English, was rhythmic; it went by irregularly distributed beats or accents. The English translators to a large extent preserved the Jewish rhythms, adding to them the music, the cadence, the soar and the swing of ecstatic English prose. In theme Jewish poetry is the primitive expression of simple people regarding the relations of man and God and the universe. Its similes and metaphors are based upon simple elemental things--the heavens, the running water, and the congregations of wild beasts. The emotions are mystically and rapturously expressed, and convey the impression of much earnestness. The following extract is fairly typical of its kind:

As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul
after thee, O God.

My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come
and appear before God?

My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually
say unto me, Where is thy God?

When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I
had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of
God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that
kept holyday.

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted
in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help
of his countenance.
_The Book of Psalms_

=7. The Influence of the Bible.= The English Bible has been a potent influence in our literature. Owing largely to their poetical or proverbial nature, multitudes of Biblical expressions have become woven into the very tissue of the tongue: “a broken reed,” “the eleventh hour,” “a thorn in the flesh,” “a good Samaritan,” “sweat of the brow,” and so on. More important, probably, is the way in which the style affects that of many of our greatest writers. The influence is nearly all for the good; for a slight strain of the Biblical manner, when kept artistically within bounds, imparts simplicity, dignity, and elevation. Bunyan shows the style almost undiluted; but in the works of such widely diverse writers as Ruskin, Macaulay, Milton, and Tennyson the effects, though slighter, are quite apparent.

FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM, VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS (1561–1626)

=1. His Life.= Bacon was born in London, the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. The family was connected with the Cecils and other political magnates of the time. Bacon was a delicate youth, and for a time he was educated privately; then he proceeded to Cambridge, and thence entered Gray’s Inn (1576). To complete his education he spent three years in France. On his being called to the Bar his family influence helped him to acquire a fair practice; but Bacon was ambitious and longed for the highest rewards that his profession could bestow. He became a member of Parliament in 1584, but the recognition that he expected from the Queen did not come his way, hard though he fought for it. He assisted in the prosecution of the Earl of Essex, a nobleman who had befriended him earlier in his career. Essex, an injudicious man, had involved himself in a charge of treason, and the ingenuity of Bacon was largely instrumental in bringing him to the block. On the accession of James I Bacon, who was never remiss in urging his own claims to preferment, began to experience prosperity, for he was tireless in urging the royal claims before Parliament. He was made a knight in 1603, and Attorney-General in 1613. In the latter capacity he was James’s chief agent in asserting and enforcing the King’s theories of divine right, and he became thoroughly unpopular with the House of Commons. His reward came in 1618, when he was appointed Lord Chancellor and created Baron Verulam, and in 1621, when he became Viscount St. Albans. Popular dissatisfaction was mounting against the King and his agents, and when Parliament met in 1620 it laid charges of bribery and corrupt dealings against the Lord Chancellor. Bacon quailed before the storm; made what amounted to a confession of guilt; and was subjected to the huge fine of £40,000 (which was partially remitted), imprisonment during the King’s pleasure (which was restricted to four days in the Tower of London), and exile from Court and office. He spent the last five years of his life in the pursuit of literary and scientific works.

=2. His Works.= Bacon wrote both in Latin and English, and of the two he considered the Latin works to be the more important.

(_a_) His English works include his _Essays_, which first appeared in 1597. Then they numbered ten; but the second (1612) and third (1625) editions raised the number to thirty-eight and fifty-eight respectively. They are on familiar subjects, such as Learning, Studies, Vainglory, and Great Place; and in method they represent the half-casual meditations of a trained and learned mind. His other English works were _The Advancement of Learning_ (1605), containing the substance of his philosophy; _Apophthegms_ (1625), a kind of jest-book; and _The New Atlantis_, left unfinished at his death, a philosophical romance modeled upon More’s _Utopia_.

(_b_) His Latin works were to be fashioned into a vast scheme, which he called _Instauratio Magna_, expounding his philosophical theories. It was laid out on the following plan, but it was scarcely half finished:

(1) _De Augmentis Scientiarum_ (1623). This treatise, in which
the English work on the _Advancement of Learning_ is embodied,
gives a general summary of human knowledge, taking special
notice of gaps and imperfections in science.

(2) _Novum Organum_ (1620). This work explains the new logic,
or inductive method of reasoning, upon which his philosophy is
founded. Out of the nine sections into which he divides the
subject the first only is handled with any fullness, the other
eight being merely named.

(3) _Sylva Sylvarum_ (left incomplete). This part was designed
to give a complete view of what we call Natural Philosophy and
Natural History. The subjects he has touched on under this head
are four--the History of Winds, Life and Death, Density and
Rarity, Sound and Hearing.

(4) _Scala Intellectus._ Of this we have only a few of the
opening pages.

(5) _Prodromi._ A few fragments only were written.

(6) _Philosophia Secunda._ Never executed.

=3. His Style.= Of Bacon as a philosopher we can only say that he is one of the founders of modern systematic thought. His most important literary work is his _Essays_. In its three versions this work shows the development of Bacon’s English style. In the first edition the style is crisp, detached, and epigrammatic, conveying the impression that each essay has arisen from some happy thought or phrase, around which other pithy statements are agglomerated. In the later editions the ideas are expanded, the expression loses its spiky pointedness, and in the end we have an approach to a freer middle style, an approximation to the swinging manner of Dryden. Bacon had no ear for rhythm and melody; a born rhetorician, he preferred the sharper devices of antithesis and epigram; and he was always clear, orderly, and swiftly precise in his phrasing. Following the fashion of the time, he was free in his use of allusions, conceits, and Latin tags, creating rather a garish ornamental effect; but his style is saved from triviality by his breadth of intellect, by his luminous intensity of ideas, and by his cool man-of-the-world sagacity.

For the sake of comparison we quote the same extract from the first and third editions of the _Essays_. The second extract, it will be noticed, is a studied expansion of the first.

(1) Crafty men contemn them, simple men admire them, wise men
use them; for they teach not their own use, but that is a wisdom
without them and above them won by observation. Read not to
contradict nor to believe, but to weigh and consider. Some books
are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be
chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only
in parts, others to be read but cursorily, and some few to be
read wholly and with diligence and attention. Reading maketh
a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man.
And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great
memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit;
and if he read little, he had need have much cunning to seem to
know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the
mathematics subtle; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic
and rhetoric able to contend.

(2) Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and
wise men use them; for they teach not their own use; but that
is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation.
Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take
for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and
consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed,
and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books
are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not
curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence
and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and
extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in
the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books;
else distilled books are like common distilled waters, flashy
things. Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and
writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he
had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need
have a present wit; and if he read little, he had need have much
cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men
wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy
deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend.
_Of Studies_

OTHER PROSE-WRITERS

=1. Roger Ascham (1515–68)= is representative of the earliest school of Elizabethan prose. He was born in Yorkshire, and educated privately and at St. John’s College, Cambridge, where he became a Fellow (1535) and a teacher of Greek (1540). He took part in the literary and religious disputes of the time, but managed to keep his feet on the shifting grounds of politics. He was appointed tutor to Elizabeth (1548) and secretary to Queen Mary; he visited the Continent as secretary to an embassy; and ultimately was appointed a canon of York Minster.

His two chief works were _Toxophilus_ (1544), a treatise, in the form of a dialogue, on archery; and _The Scholemaster_ (1570), an educational work containing some ideas that were then fairly fresh and enlightening. Ascham was a man of moderate literary talent, of great industry, and of boundless enthusiasm for learning. Though he is strongly influenced by classical models, he has all the strong Elizabethan sense of nationality. In _Toxophilus_ he declares his intention of “writing this English matter in the English speech for Englishmen.” In style he is plain and strong, using only the more obvious graces of alliteration and antithesis.

=2. John Lyly (1553–1606)= marks another stage in the march of English prose. He was born in Kent, educated at Oxford, and, failing to obtain Court patronage, became a literary man in London. At first he had considerable success, and entered Parliament; but at a later stage his popularity declined, and he died poverty-stricken in London.

We have already mentioned his comedies (see p. 105), which at the time brought him fame and money. But his first prose work, _Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit_ (1579), made him one of the foremost figures of the day. He repeated the success with a second part, _Euphues and his England_ (1580). The work is a kind of travel-romance, recounting the adventures of Euphues, a young Athenian. The narrative is interspersed with numerous discussions upon many topics. It was, however, the style of its prose that gave the book its great vogue. It is the first consciously fabricated prose style in the language. It is mannered and affected almost to the point of being ridiculous. Its tricks are obvious and easily imitated, and they are freely applied by the next generation: balanced phrases, intricate alliteration, labored comparisons drawn from classical and other sources, and ornate epithets. The effect is quaint and not displeasing, but the narrative labors under the weight of it. It certainly suited the growing literary consciousness of its day, and hence its pronounced, though temporary, success.

The following extract will illustrate the euphuistic manner:

Philautus being a town-born child, both for his own countenance,
and the great countenance which his father had while he
lived, crept into credit with Don Ferardo one of the chief
governors of the city, who although he had a courtly crew of
gentlewomen sojourning in his palace, yet his daughter, heir
to his whole revenues stained the beauty of them all, whose
modest bashfulness caused the other to look wan for envy, whose
lily cheeks dyed with a vermilion red, made the rest to blush
for shame. For as the finest ruby staineth the colour of the
rest that be in place, or as the sun dimmeth the moon, that
she cannot be discerned, so this gallant girl more fair than
fortunate, and yet more fortunate than faithful, eclipsed the
beauty of them all, and changed their colours. Unto her had
Philautus access, who won her by right of love, and should have
worn her by right of law, had not Euphues by strange destiny
broken the bonds of marriage, and forbidden the banns of
matrimony.
_Euphues and his England_

=3. Richard Hooker (1553–1600)= was born near Exeter, and educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, where he was elected a Fellow (1577). In 1582 he took orders, and later was appointed to a living in Kent, where he died.

His great work, at which he labored during the greater part of his life, was _The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity_. The first four of the proposed eight books were issued in 1593; he finished one more; and though the remaining three were published under his name when he was dead, it is very doubtful if he was entirely responsible for them. In the work he supports Episcopacy against Presbyterianism. In style he is strongly affected by classical writers; but he usually writes with homeliness and point; his sentences are carefully constructed; the rhythm moves easily; and there is both precision and melody in his choice of vocabulary. His style is an early example of scholarly and accomplished English prose.

=4. Sir Thomas Overbury (1581–1613)= may be taken as typical of a fairly large class of Elizabethan writers. He was born in Warwickshire, educated at Oxford, and became a figure at the Court of King James. His chief friend at Court was James’s favorite Robert Carr, with whom he quarreled over a love-affair. For this Overbury fell into disfavor, and was imprisoned in the Tower, where he was poisoned under mysterious and barbarous circumstances.

Overbury survives in literature as the author of a series of _Characters_ (1614). Based on the ancient Greek work of Theophrastus, the book consists of a number of concise character-sketches of well-known types, such as a Milkmaid, a Pedant, a Franklin, and “an Affectate Traveller.” The sketches are solely of types, not of individuals, and so lack any great literary merit. But they are important for several reasons: they are a curious development of the pamphlet, which was so common at that time; they are another phase of the “humours” craze, seen so strongly in the Jonsonian and other dramas; and they are an important element in the growth of the essay. In style the book is strongly euphuistic, thus illustrating another tendency of the time. They were added to and imitated by other writers, including =John Earle (1601–65)=.

=5. Robert Burton (1577–1640)= was the son of a country gentleman, and was born in Leicestershire. He was educated at Oxford, where, in holy orders, he passed most of his life.

His famous work, _The Anatomy of Melancholy_, was first issued in 1621, and then constantly revised and reissued. It is an elaborate and discursive study of melancholy, its species and kinds, its causes, results, and cure. The book--labored, saturnine, and fantastic to an extraordinary degree--has exercised a strong fascination over many scholarly minds, including those of Dr. Johnson and Charles Lamb. Its learning is immense and unconventional, being drawn from many rare authors; its humor curiously crabbed, subdued, and ironical; and its “melancholy,” though pervading, is not oppressive. The diction, harsh and unstudied, is rarely obscure; the enormous sentences, packed with quotation and allusion, are loosely knit. Both as a stylist and as a personality Burton occupies his own niche in English literature.

=6. The Sermon-writers.= At the beginning of the seventeenth century the sermon rose to a level of literary importance not hitherto attained, and afterward rarely equaled. We have already mentioned Donne (see p. 102), probably the most notable of his group, and we give space to two other writers.