Chapter XIX: Part 19

We shall find that other tests also would put _Othello_ before _Hamlet_, though close to it. This may be due to 'accident'--_i.e._ a cause or causes unknown to us; but I have sometimes wondered whether the last revision of _Hamlet_ may not have succeeded the composition of _Othello_. In this connection the following fact may be worth notice. It is well known that the differences of the Second Quarto of _Hamlet_ from the First are much greater in the last three Acts than in the first two--so much so that the editors of the Cambridge Shakespeare suggested that Q1 represents an old play, of which Shakespeare's rehandling had not then proceeded much beyond the Second Act, while Q2 represents his later completed rehandling. If that were so, the composition of the last three Acts would be a good deal later than that of the first two (though of course the first two would be revised at the time of the composition of the last three). Now I find that the percentage of speeches ending with a broken line is about 50 for the first two Acts, but about 62 for the last three. It is lowest in the first Act, and in the first two scenes of it is less than 32. The percentage for the last two Acts is about 65.

II. The Enjambement or Overflow test is also known as the End-stopped and Run-on line test. A line may be called 'end-stopped' when the sense, as well as the metre, would naturally make one pause at its close; 'run-on' when the mere sense would lead one to pass to the next line without any pause.[287] This distinction is in a great majority of cases quite easy to draw: in others it is difficult. The reader cannot judge by rules of grammar, or by marks of punctuation (for there is a distinct pause at the end of many a line where most editors print no stop): he must trust his ear. And readers will differ, one making a distinct pause where another does not. This, however, does not matter greatly, so long as the reader is consistent; for the important point is not the precise number of run-on lines in a play, but the difference in this matter between one play and another. Thus one may disagree with König in his estimate of many instances, but one can see that he is consistent.

In Shakespeare's early plays, 'overflows' are rare. In the _Comedy of Errors_, for example, their percentage is 12.9 according to König[288] (who excludes rhymed lines and some others). In the generally admitted last plays they are comparatively frequent. Thus, according to König, the percentage in the _Winter's Tale_ is 37.5, in the _Tempest_ 41.5, in _Antony_ 43.3, in _Coriolanus_ 45.9, in _Cymbeline_ 46, in the parts of _Henry VIII._ assigned by Spedding to Shakespeare 53.18. König's results for the four tragedies are as follows: _Othello_, 19.5; _Hamlet_, 23.1; _King Lear_, 29.3; _Macbeth_, 36.6; (_Timon_, the whole play, 32.5). _Macbeth_ here again, therefore, stands decidedly last: indeed it stands near the first of the latest plays.

And no one who has ever attended to the versification of _Macbeth_ will be surprised at these figures. It is almost obvious, I should say, that Shakespeare is passing from one system to another. Some passages show little change, but in others the change is almost complete. If the reader will compare two somewhat similar soliloquies, 'To be or not to be' and 'If it were done when 'tis done,' he will recognise this at once. Or let him search the previous plays, even _King Lear_, for twelve consecutive lines like these:

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: if the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We 'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgement here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips.

Or let him try to parallel the following (III. vi. 37 f.):

and this report
Hath so exasperate the king that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.

_Len._ Sent he to Macduff?

_Lord._ He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,'
The cloudy messenger turns me his back
And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer.'

_Len._ And that well might
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering country
Under a hand accurs'd!

or this (IV. iii. 118 f.):

Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste: but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature.

I pass to another point. In the last illustration the reader will observe not only that 'overflows' abound, but that they follow one another in an unbroken series of nine lines. So long a series could not, probably, be found outside _Macbeth_ and the last plays. A series of two or three is not uncommon; but a series of more than three is rare in the early plays, and far from common in the plays of the second period (König).

I thought it might be useful for our present purpose, to count the series of four and upwards in the four tragedies, in the parts of _Timon_ attributed by Mr. Fleay to Shakespeare, and in _Coriolanus_, a play of the last period. I have not excluded rhymed lines in the two places where they occur, and perhaps I may say that my idea of an 'overflow' is more exacting than König's. The reader will understand the following table at once if I say that, according to it, _Othello_ contains three passages where a series of four successive overflowing lines occurs, and two passages where a series of five such lines occurs:

----------------------------------------------------------------- 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 No. of Lines (Fleay). ----------------------------------------------------------------- Othello, 3 2 -- -- -- -- -- 2,758 Hamlet, 7 -- -- -- -- -- -- 2,571 Lear, 6 2 -- -- -- -- -- 2,312 Timon, 7 2 1 1 -- -- -- 1,031 (?) Macbeth, 7 5 1 1 -- 1 -- 1,706 Coriolanus, 16 14 7 1 2 -- 1 2,563 -----------------------------------------------------------------

(The figures for _Macbeth_ and _Timon_ in the last column must be borne in mind. I observed nothing in the non-Shakespeare part of _Timon_ that would come into the table, but I did not make a careful search. I felt some doubt as to two of the four series in _Othello_ and again in _Hamlet_, and also whether the ten-series in _Coriolanus_ should not be put in column 7).

III. _The light and weak ending test._

We have just seen that in some cases a doubt is felt whether there is an 'overflow' or not. The fact is that the 'overflow' has many degrees of intensity. If we take, for example, the passage last quoted, and if with König we consider the line

The taints and blames I laid upon myself

to be run-on (as I do not), we shall at least consider the overflow to be much less distinct than those in the lines

but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak my own detraction, here abjure

And of these four lines the third runs on into its successor at much the greatest speed.

'Above,' 'now,' 'abjure,' are not light or weak endings: 'and' is a weak ending. Prof. Ingram gave the name weak ending to certain words on which it is scarcely possible to dwell at all, and which, therefore, precipitate the line which they close into the following. Light endings are certain words which have the same effect in a slighter degree. For example, _and_, _from_, _in_, _of_, are weak endings; _am_, _are_, _I_, _he_, are light endings.

The test founded on this distinction is, within its limits, the most satisfactory of all, partly because the work of its author can be absolutely trusted. The result of its application is briefly as follows. Until quite a late date light and weak endings occur in Shakespeare's works in such small numbers as hardly to be worth consideration.[289] But in the well-defined group of last plays the numbers both of light and of weak endings increase greatly, and, on the whole, the increase apparently is progressive (I say apparently, because the order in which the last plays are generally placed depends to some extent on the test itself). I give Prof. Ingram's table of these plays, premising that in _Pericles_, _Two Noble Kinsmen_, and _Henry VIII._ he uses only those parts of the plays which are attributed by certain authorities to Shakespeare (_New Shakspere Soc. Trans._, 1874).

------------------------------------------------------------------------ | Light | | Percentage | Percentage | Percentage |endings.| Weak.| of light in | of weak in | of | | | verse lines.| verse lines.| both. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Antony & | | | | | Cleopatra, | 71 | 28 | 2.53 | 1. | 3.53 Coriolanus, | 60 | 44 | 2.34 | 1.71 | 4.05 Pericles, | 20 | 10 | 2.78 | 1.39 | 4.17 Tempest, | 42 | 25 | 2.88 | 1.71 | 4.59 Cymbeline, | 78 | 52 | 2.90 | 1.93 | 4.83 Winter's Tale, | 57 | 43 | 3.12 | 2.36 | 5.48 Two Noble | | | | | Kinsmen, | 50 | 34 | 3.63 | 2.47 | 6.10 Henry VIII., | 45 | 37 | 3.93 | 3.23 | 7.16 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, let us turn to our four tragedies (with _Timon_). Here again we have one doubtful play, and I give the figures for the whole of _Timon_, and again for the parts of _Timon_ assigned to Shakespeare by Mr. Fleay, both as they appear in his amended text and as they appear in the Globe (perhaps the better text).

----------------------------------------- | Light. | Weak. ----------------------------------------- Hamlet, | 8 | 0 Othello, | 2 | 0 Lear, | 5 | 1 Timon (whole), | 16 | 5 (Sh. in Fleay), | 14 | 7 (Sh. in Globe), | 13 | 2 Macbeth, | 21 | 2 -----------------------------------------

Now here the figures for the first three plays tell us practically nothing. The tendency to a freer use of these endings is not visible. As to _Timon_, the number of weak endings, I think, tells us little, for probably only two or three are Shakespeare's; but the rise in the number of light endings is so marked as to be significant. And most significant is this rise in the case of _Macbeth_, which, like Shakespeare's part of _Timon_, is much shorter than the preceding plays. It strongly confirms the impression that in _Macbeth_ we have the transition to Shakespeare's last style, and that the play is the latest of the five tragedies.[290]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 282: The fact that _King Lear_ was performed at Court on December 26, 1606, is of course very far from showing that it had never been performed before.]

[Footnote 283: I have not tried to discover the source of the difference between these two reckonings.]

[Footnote 284: _Der Vers in Shakspere's Dramen_, 1888.]

[Footnote 285: In the parts of _Timon_ (Globe text) assigned by Mr. Fleay to Shakespeare, I find the percentage to be about 74.5. König gives 62.8 as the percentage in the whole of the play.]

[Footnote 286: I have noted also what must be a mistake in the case of Pericles. König gives 17.1 as the percentage of the speeches with broken ends. I was astounded to see the figure, considering the style in the undoubtedly Shakespearean parts; and I find that, on my method, in Acts III., IV., V. the percentage is about 71, in the first two Acts (which show very slight, if any, traces of Shakespeare's hand) about 19. I cannot imagine the origin of the mistake here.]

[Footnote 287: I put the matter thus, instead of saying that, with a run-on line, one does pass to the next line without any pause, because, in common with many others, I should not in any case whatever _wholly_ ignore the fact that one line ends and another begins.]

[Footnote 288: These overflows are what König calls 'schroffe Enjambements,' which he considers to correspond with Furnivall's 'run-on lines.']

[Footnote 289: The number of light endings, however, in _Julius Caesar_ (10) and _All's Well_ (12) is worth notice.]

[Footnote 290: The Editors of the Cambridge Shakespeare might appeal in support of their view, that parts of Act V. are not Shakespeare's, to the fact that the last of the light endings occurs at IV. iii. 165.]

NOTE CC.

WHEN WAS THE MURDER OF DUNCAN FIRST PLOTTED?

A good many readers probably think that, when Macbeth first met the Witches, he was perfectly innocent; but a much larger number would say that he had already harboured a vaguely guilty ambition, though he had not faced the idea of murder. And I think there can be no doubt that this is the obvious and natural interpretation of the scene. Only it is almost necessary to go rather further, and to suppose that his guilty ambition, whatever its precise form, was known to his wife and shared by her. Otherwise, surely, she would not, on reading his letter, so instantaneously assume that the King must be murdered in their castle; nor would Macbeth, as soon as he meets her, be aware (as he evidently is) that this thought is in her mind.

But there is a famous passage in _Macbeth_ which, closely considered, seems to require us to go further still, and to suppose that, at some time before the action of the play begins, the husband and wife had explicitly discussed the idea of murdering Duncan at some favourable opportunity, and had agreed to execute this idea. Attention seems to have been first drawn to this passage by Koester in vol. I. of the _Jahrbücher d. deutschen Shakespeare-gesellschaft_, and on it is based the interpretation of the play in Werder's very able _Vorlesungen über Macbeth_.

The passage occurs in I. vii., where Lady Macbeth is urging her husband to the deed:

_Macb._ Prithee, peace:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.

_Lady M._ What beast was't, then,
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you
Have done to this.

Here Lady Macbeth asserts (1) that Macbeth proposed the murder to her: (2) that he did so at a time when there was no opportunity to attack Duncan, no 'adherence' of 'time' and 'place': (3) that he declared he wou'd _make_ an opportunity, and swore to carry out the murder.

Now it is possible that Macbeth's 'swearing' might have occurred in an interview off the stage between scenes v. and vi., or scenes vi. and vii.; and, if in that interview Lady Macbeth had with difficulty worked her husband up to a resolution, her irritation at his relapse, in sc. vii., would be very natural. But, as for Macbeth's first proposal of murder, it certainly does not occur in our play, nor could it possibly occur in any interview off the stage; for when Macbeth and his wife first meet, 'time' and 'place' _do_ adhere; 'they have made themselves.' The conclusion would seem to be, either that the proposal of the murder, and probably the oath, occurred in a scene at the very beginning of the play, which scene has been lost or cut out; or else that Macbeth proposed, and swore to execute, the murder at some time prior to the action of the play.[291] The first of these hypotheses is most improbable, and we seem driven to adopt the second, unless we consent to burden Shakespeare with a careless mistake in a very critical passage.

And, apart from unwillingness to do this, we can find a good deal to say in favour of the idea of a plan formed at a past time. It would explain Macbeth's start of fear at the prophecy of the kingdom. It would explain why Lady Macbeth, on receiving his letter, immediately resolves on action; and why, on their meeting, each knows that murder is in the mind of the other. And it is in harmony with her remarks on his probable shrinking from the act, to which, _ex hypothesi_, she had already thought it necessary to make him pledge himself by an oath.

Yet I find it very difficult to believe in this interpretation. It is not merely that the interest of Macbeth's struggle with himself and with his wife would be seriously diminished if we felt he had been through all this before. I think this would be so; but there are two more important objections. In the first place the violent agitation described in the words,

If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,

would surely not be natural, even in Macbeth, if the idea of murder were already quite familiar to him through conversation with his wife, and if he had already done more than 'yield' to it. It is not as if the Witches had told him that Duncan was coming to his house. In that case the perception that the moment had come to execute a merely general design might well appal him. But all that he hears is that he will one day be King--a statement which, supposing this general design, would not point to any immediate action.[292] And, in the second place, it is hard to believe that, if Shakespeare really had imagined the murder planned and sworn to before the action of the play, he would have written the first six scenes in such a manner that practically all readers imagine quite another state of affairs, and _continue to imagine it_ even after they have read in scene vii. the passage which is troubling us. Is it likely, to put it otherwise, that his idea was one which nobody seems to have divined till late in the nineteenth century? And for what possible reason could he refrain from making this idea clear to his audience, as he might so easily have done in the third scene?[293] It seems very much more likely that he himself imagined the matter as nearly all his readers do.

But, in that case, what are we to say of this passage? I will answer first by explaining the way in which I understood it before I was aware that it had caused so much difficulty. I supposed that an interview had taken place after scene v., a scene which shows Macbeth shrinking, and in which his last words were 'we will speak further.' In this interview, I supposed, his wife had so wrought upon him that he had at last yielded and pledged himself by oath to do the murder. As for her statement that he had 'broken the enterprise' to her, I took it to refer to his letter to her,--a letter written when time and place did not adhere, for he did not yet know that Duncan was coming to visit him. In the letter he does not, of course, openly 'break the enterprise' to her, and it is not likely that he would do such a thing in a letter; but if they had had ambitious conversations, in which each felt that some half-formed guilty idea was floating in the mind of the other, she might naturally take the words of the letter as indicating much more than they said; and then in her passionate contempt at his hesitation, and her passionate eagerness to overcome it, she might easily accuse him, doubtless with exaggeration, and probably with conscious exaggeration, of having actually proposed the murder. And Macbeth, knowing that when he wrote the letter he really had been thinking of murder, and indifferent to anything except the question whether murder should be done, would easily let her statement pass unchallenged.

This interpretation still seems to me not unnatural. The alternative (unless we adopt the idea of an agreement prior to the action of the play) is to suppose that Lady Macbeth refers throughout the passage to some interview subsequent to her husband's return, and that, in making her do so, Shakespeare simply forgot her speeches on welcoming Macbeth home, and also forgot that at any such interview 'time' and 'place' did 'adhere.' It is easy to understand such forgetfulness in a spectator and even in a reader; but it is less easy to imagine it in a poet whose conception of the two characters throughout these scenes was evidently so burningly vivid.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 291: The 'swearing' _might_ of course, on this view, occur off the stage within the play; but there is no occasion to suppose this if we are obliged to put the proposal outside the play.]

[Footnote 292: To this it might be answered that the effect of the prediction was to make him feel, 'Then I shall succeed if I carry out the plan of murder,' and so make him yield to the idea over again. To which I can only reply, anticipating the next argument, 'How is it that Shakespeare wrote the speech in such a way that practically everybody supposes the idea of murder to be occurring to Macbeth for the first time?']

[Footnote 293: It might be answered here again that the actor, instructed by Shakespeare, could act the start of fear so as to convey quite clearly the idea of definite guilt. And this is true; but we ought to do our best to interpret the text before we have recourse to this kind of suggestion.]

NOTE DD.

DID LADY MACBETH REALLY FAINT?

In the scene of confusion where the murder of Duncan is discovered, Macbeth and Lennox return from the royal chamber; Lennox describes the grooms who, as it seemed, had done the deed:

Their hands and faces were all badged with blood;
So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
Upon their pillows:
They stared, and were distracted; no man's life
Was to be trusted with them.

_Macb._ O, yet I do repent me of my fury
That I did kill them.

_Macd._ Wherefore did you so?

_Macb._ Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage to make's love known?

At this point Lady Macbeth exclaims, 'Help me hence, ho!' Her husband takes no notice, but Macduff calls out 'Look to the lady.' This, after a few words 'aside' between Malcolm and Donalbain, is repeated by Banquo, and, very shortly after, all except Duncan's sons _exeunt_. (The stage-direction 'Lady Macbeth is carried out,' after Banquo's exclamation 'Look to the lady,' is not in the Ff. and was introduced by Rowe. If the Ff. are right, she can hardly have fainted _away_. But the point has no importance here.)

Does Lady Macbeth really turn faint, or does she pretend? The latter seems to have been the general view, and Whately pointed out that Macbeth's indifference betrays his consciousness that the faint was not real. But to this it may be answered that, if he believed it to be real, he would equally show indifference, in order to display his horror at the murder. And Miss Helen Faucit and others have held that there was no pretence.

In favour of the pretence it may be said (1) that Lady Macbeth, who herself took back the daggers, saw the old King in his blood, and smeared the grooms, was not the woman to faint at a mere description; (2) that she saw her husband over-acting his part, and saw the faces of the lords, and wished to end the scene,--which she succeeded in doing.

But to the last argument it may be replied that she would not willingly have run the risk of leaving her husband to act his part alone. And for other reasons (indicated above, p. 373 f.) I decidedly believe that she is meant really to faint. She was no Goneril. She knew that she could not kill the King herself; and she never expected to have to carry back the daggers, see the bloody corpse, and smear the faces and hands of the grooms. But Macbeth's agony greatly alarmed her, and she was driven to the scene of horror to complete his task; and what an impression it made on her we know from that sentence uttered in her sleep, 'Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?' She had now, further, gone through the ordeal of the discovery. Is it not quite natural that the reaction should come, and that it should come just when Macbeth's description recalls the scene which had cost her the greatest effort? Is it not likely, besides, that the expression on the faces of the lords would force her to realise, what before the murder she had refused to consider, the horror and the suspicion it must excite? It is noticeable, also, that she is far from carrying out her intention of bearing a part in making their 'griefs and clamours roar upon his death' (I. vii. 78). She has left it all to her husband, and, after uttering but two sentences, the second of which is answered very curtly by Banquo, for some time (an interval of 33 lines) she has said nothing. I believe Shakespeare means this interval to be occupied in desperate efforts on her part to prevent herself from giving way, as she sees for the first time something of the truth to which she was formerly so blind, and which will destroy her in the end.

It should be observed that at the close of the Banquet scene, where she has gone through much less, she is evidently exhausted.

Shakespeare, of course, knew whether he meant the faint to be real: but I am not aware if an actor of the part could show the audience whether it was real or pretended. If he could, he would doubtless receive instructions from the author.

NOTE EE.

DURATION OF THE ACTION IN _MACBETH_. MACBETH'S AGE. 'HE HAS NO CHILDREN.'

1. The duration of the action cannot well be more than a few months. On the day following the murder of Duncan his sons fly and Macbeth goes to Scone to be invested (II. iv.). Between this scene and Act III. an interval must be supposed, sufficient for news to arrive of Malcolm being in England and Donalbain in Ireland, and for Banquo to have shown himself a good counsellor. But the interval is evidently not long: _e.g._ Banquo's first words are 'Thou hast it now' (III. i. 1). Banquo is murdered on the day when he speaks these words. Macbeth's visit to the Witches takes place the next day (III. iv. 132). At the end of this visit (IV. i.) he hears of Macduff's flight to England, and determines to have Macduff's wife and children slaughtered without delay; and this is the subject of the next scene (IV. ii.). No great interval, then, can be supposed between this scene and the next, where Macduff, arrived at the English court, hears what has happened at his castle. At the end of that scene (IV. iii. 237) Malcolm says that 'Macbeth is ripe for shaking, and the powers above put on their instruments': and the events of Act V. evidently follow with little delay, and occupy but a short time. Holinshed's Macbeth appears to have reigned seventeen years: Shakespeare's may perhaps be allowed as many weeks.

But, naturally, Shakespeare creates some difficulties through wishing to produce different impressions in different parts of the play. The main effect is that of fiery speed, and it would be impossible to imagine the torment of Macbeth's mind lasting through a number of years, even if Shakespeare had been willing to allow him years of outward success. Hence the brevity of the action. On the other hand time is wanted for the degeneration of his character hinted at in IV. iii. 57 f., for the development of his tyranny, for his attempts to entrap Malcolm (_ib._ 117 f.), and perhaps for the deepening of his feeling that his life had passed into the sere and yellow leaf. Shakespeare, as we have seen, scarcely provides time for all this, but at certain points he produces an impression that a longer time has elapsed than he has provided for, and he puts most of the indications of this longer time into a scene (IV. iii.) which by its quietness contrasts strongly with almost all the rest of the play.

2. There is no unmistakable indication of the ages of the two principal characters; but the question, though of no great importance, has an interest. I believe most readers imagine Macbeth as a man between forty and fifty, and his wife as younger but not young. In many cases this impression is doubtless due to the custom of the theatre (which, if it can be shown to go back far, should have much weight), but it is shared by readers who have never seen the play performed, and is then presumably due to a number of slight influences probably incapable of complete analysis. Such readers would say, 'The hero and heroine do not speak like young people, nor like old ones'; but, though I think this is so, it can hardly be demonstrated. Perhaps however the following small indications, mostly of a different kind, tend to the same result.

(1) There is no positive sign of youth. (2) A young man would not be likely to lead the army. (3) Macbeth is 'cousin' to an old man.[294] (4) Macbeth calls Malcolm 'young,' and speaks of him scornfully as 'the boy Malcolm.' He is probably therefore considerably his senior. But Malcolm is evidently not really a boy (see I. ii. 3 f. as well as the later Acts). (5) One gets the impression (possibly without reason) that Macbeth and Banquo are of about the same age; and Banquo's son, the boy Fleance, is evidently not a mere child. (On the other hand the children of Macduff, who is clearly a good deal older than Malcolm, are all young; and I do not think there is any sign that Macbeth is older than Macduff.) (6) When Lady Macbeth, in the banquet scene, says,

Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth,

we naturally imagine him some way removed from his youth. (7) Lady Macbeth saw a resemblance to her father in the aged king. (8) Macbeth says,

I have lived long enough: my way[295] of life
Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf:
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I may not look to have.

It is, surely, of the old age of the soul that he speaks in the second line, but still the lines would hardly be spoken under any circumstances by a man less than middle-aged.

On the other hand I suppose no one ever imagined Macbeth, or on consideration could imagine him, as _more_ than middle-aged when the action begins. And in addition the reader may observe, if he finds it necessary, that Macbeth looks forward to having children (I. vii. 72), and that his terms of endearment ('dearest love,' 'dearest chuck') and his language in public ('sweet remembrancer') do not suggest that his wife and he are old; they even suggest that she at least is scarcely middle-aged. But this discussion tends to grow ludicrous.

For Shakespeare's audience these mysteries were revealed by a glance at the actors, like the fact that Duncan was an old man, which the text, I think, does not disclose till V. i. 44.

3. Whether Macbeth had children or (as seems usually to be supposed) had none, is quite immaterial. But it is material that, if he had none, he looked forward to having one; for otherwise there would be no point in the following words in his soliloquy about Banquo (III. i. 58 f.):

Then prophet-like
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If't be so,
For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind.

And he is determined that it shall not 'be so':

Rather than so, come, fate, into the list
And champion me to the utterance!

Obviously he contemplates a son of his succeeding, if only he can get rid of Banquo and Fleance. What he fears is that Banquo will kill him; in which case, supposing he has a son, that son will not be allowed to succeed him, and, supposing he has none, he will be unable to beget one.

I hope this is clear; and nothing else matters. Lady Macbeth's child (I. vii. 54) may be alive or may be dead. It may even be, or have been, her child by a former husband; though, if Shakespeare had followed history in making Macbeth marry a widow (as some writers gravely assume) he would probably have told us so. It may be that Macbeth had many children or that he had none. We cannot say, and it does not concern the play. But the interpretation of a statement on which some critics build, 'He has no children,' has an interest of another kind, and I proceed to consider it.

These words occur at IV. iii. 216. Malcolm and Macduff are talking at the English Court, and Ross, arriving from Scotland, brings news to Macduff of Macbeth's revenge on him. It is necessary to quote a good many lines:

_Ross._ Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

_Mal._ Merciful heaven!
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

_Macd._ My children too?

_Ross._ Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.

_Macd._ And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

_Ross._ I have said.

_Mal._ Be comforted:
Let's makes us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

_Macd._ He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?

_Mal_. Dispute it like a man.

_Macd._ I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.--

Three interpretations have been offered of the words 'He has no children.'

(_a_) They refer to Malcolm, who, if he had children of his own, would not at such a moment suggest revenge, or talk of curing such a grief. Cf. _King John_, III. iv. 91, where Pandulph says to Constance,

You hold too heinous a respect of grief,

and Constance answers,

He talks to me that never had a son.

(_b_) They refer to Macbeth, who has no children, and on whom therefore Macduff cannot take an adequate revenge.

(_c_) They refer to Macbeth, who, if he himself had children, could never have ordered the slaughter of children. Cf. _3 Henry VI._ V. v. 63, where Margaret says to the murderers of Prince Edward,

You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirred up remorse.

I cannot think interpretation (_b_) the most natural. The whole idea of the passage is that Macduff must feel _grief_ first and before he can feel anything else, _e.g._ the desire for vengeance. As he says directly after, he cannot at once 'dispute' it like a man, but must 'feel' it as a man; and it is not till ten lines later that he is able to pass to the thought of revenge. Macduff is not the man to conceive at any time the idea of killing children in retaliation; and that he contemplates it _here_, even as a suggestion, I find it hard to believe.

For the same main reason interpretation (_a_) seems to me far more probable than (_c_). What could be more consonant with the natural course of the thought, as developed in the lines which follow, than that Macduff, being told to think of revenge, not grief, should answer, 'No one who was himself a father would ask that of me in the very first moment of loss'? But the thought supposed by interpretation (_c_) has not this natural connection.

It has been objected to interpretation (_a_) that, according to it, Macduff would naturally say 'You have no children,' not 'He has no children.' But what Macduff does is precisely what Constance does in the line quoted from _King John_. And it should be noted that, all through the passage down to this point, and indeed in the fifteen lines which precede our quotation, Macduff listens only to Ross. His questions 'My children too?' 'My wife killed too?' show that he cannot fully realise what he is told. When Malcolm interrupts, therefore, he puts aside his suggestion with four words spoken to himself, or (less probably) to Ross (his relative, who knew his wife and children), and continues his agonised questions and exclamations. Surely it is not likely that at that moment the idea of (_c_), an idea which there is nothing to suggest, would occur to him.

In favour of (_c_) as against (_a_) I see no argument except that the words of Macduff almost repeat those of Margaret; and this fact does not seem to me to have much weight. It shows only that Shakespeare might easily use the words in the sense of (_c_) if that sense were suitable to the occasion. It is not unlikely, again, I think, that the words came to him here because he had used them many years before;[296] but it does not follow that he knew he was repeating them; or that, if he did, he remembered the sense they had previously borne; or that, if he did remember it, he might not use them now in another sense.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 294: So in Holinshed, as well as in the play, where however 'cousin' need not have its specific meaning.]

[Footnote 295: 'May,' Johnson conjectured, without necessity.]

[Footnote 296: As this point occurs here, I may observe that Shakespeare's later tragedies contain many such reminiscences of the tragic plays of his young days. For instance, cf. _Titus Andronicus_, I. i. 150 f.:

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons,

* * * * *

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned drugs: here are no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep,

with _Macbeth_, III. ii. 22 f.:

Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further.

In writing IV. i. Shakespeare can hardly have failed to remember the conjuring of the Spirit, and the ambiguous oracles, in _2 Henry VI._ I. iv. The 'Hyrcan tiger' of _Macbeth_ III. iv. 101, which is also alluded to in _Hamlet_, appears first in _3 Henry VI._ I. iv. 155. Cf. _Richard III._ II. i. 92, 'Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood,' with _Macbeth_ II. iii. 146, 'the near in blood, the nearer bloody'; _Richard III._ IV. ii. 64, 'But I am in So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin,' with _Macbeth_ III. iv. 136, 'I am in blood stepp'd in so far,' etc. These are but a few instances. (It makes no difference whether Shakespeare was author or reviser of _Titus_ and _Henry VI._).]

NOTE FF.

THE GHOST OF BANQUO.

I do not think the suggestions that the Ghost on its first appearance is Banquo's, and on its second Duncan's, or _vice versâ_, are worth discussion. But the question whether Shakespeare meant the Ghost to be real or a mere hallucination, has some interest, and I have not seen it fully examined.

The following reasons may be given for the hallucination view:

(1) We remember that Macbeth has already seen one hallucination, that of the dagger; and if we failed to remember it Lady Macbeth would remind us of it here:

This is the very painting of your fear;
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan.

(2) The Ghost seems to be created by Macbeth's imagination; for his words,

now they rise again
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,

describe it, and they echo what the murderer had said to him a little before,

Safe in a ditch he bides
With twenty trenched gashes on his head.

(3) It vanishes the second time on his making a violent effort and asserting its unreality:

Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!

This is not quite so the first time, but then too its disappearance follows on his defying it:

Why what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.

So, apparently, the dagger vanishes when he exclaims, 'There's no such thing!'

(4) At the end of the scene Macbeth himself seems to regard it as an illusion:

My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use.

(5) It does not speak, like the Ghost in _Hamlet_ even on its last appearance, and like the Ghost in _Julius Caesar_.

(6) It is visible only to Macbeth.

I should attach no weight to (6) taken alone (see p. 140). Of (3) it may be remarked that Brutus himself seems to attribute the vanishing of Caesar's Ghost to his taking courage: 'now I have taken heart thou vanishest:' yet he certainly holds it to be real. It may also be remarked on (5) that Caesar's Ghost says nothing that Brutus' own forebodings might not have conjured up. And further it may be asked why, if the Ghost of Banquo was meant for an illusion, it was represented on the stage, as the stage-directions and Forman's account show it to have been.

On the whole, and with some doubt, I think that Shakespeare (1) meant the judicious to take the Ghost for an hallucination, but (2) knew that the bulk of the audience would take it for a reality. And I am more sure of (2) than of (1).

INDEX

The titles of plays are in italics. So are the numbers of the pages containing the main discussion of a character. The titles of the Notes are not repeated in the Index.

Aaron, 200, 211.

Abnormal mental conditions, 13, 398.

Accident, in tragedy, 7, 14-16, 26, 28;
in _Hamlet_, 143, 173;
in _Othello_, 181-2;
in _King Lear_, 253, 325.

Act, difficulty in Fourth, 57-8;
the five Acts, 49.

Action, tragic, 11, 12, 31;
and character, 12, 19;
a conflict, 16-19.

Adversity and prosperity in _King Lear_, 326-7.

Albany, _297-8_.

Antonio, 110, 404.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, 3, 7, 45, 80;
conflict, 17-8;
crisis, 53, 55, 66;
humour in catastrophe, 62, 395-6;
battle-scenes, 62-3;
extended catastrophe, 64;
faulty construction, 71, 260;
passion in, 82;
evil in, 83-4;
versification, 87, Note BB.

Antony, 22, 29, 63, 83-4.

_Arden of Feversham_, 9.

Ariel, 264.

Aristotle, 16, 22.

Art, Shakespeare's, conscious, 68-9;
defects in, 71-78.

Arthur, 294.

_As You Like It_, 71, 267, 390.

Atmosphere in tragedy, 333.

Banquo, 343, _379-86_.

Barbara, the maid, 175.

Battle-scene, 62, 451, 469;
in _King Lear_, 255, Note X.

Beast and man, in _King Lear_, 266-8;
in _Timon_, 453.

Bernhardt, Mme., 379.

Biblical ideas, in _King Lear_, 328.

Bombast, 73, 75-6, 389, Note F.

Brandes, G., 379, 393.

Brutus, 7, 14, 22, 27, 32, 81-2, 101, 364.

Caliban, 264.

Cassio, 211-3, _238-9_, 433-4.

Catastrophe, humour before, 61-2;
battle-scenes in, 62;
false hope before, 63;
extended, 62;
in _Antony_ and _Coriolanus_, 83-4.
See _Hamlet_, etc.

Character, and plot, 12;
is destiny, 13;
tragic, 19-23.

Chaucer, 8, 346.

Children, in the plays, 293-5.

Cleopatra, 7, 20, 84, 178, 208.

Coleridge, 104-5, 107, 109, 127, 165, 200, 201, 209, 223, 226, 228, 249,
343, 353, 362, 389, 391, 392, 397, 412, 413.

Comedy, 15, 41.

Conflict, tragic, 16-9;
originates in evil, 34;
oscillating movement in, 50;
crisis in, 51-5;
descending movement of, 55-62.

Conscience. See Hamlet.

Cordelia, 29, 32, 203-6, 250, 290, 314, _315-26_, Note W.

_Coriolanus_, 3, 9, 43, 394-5;
crisis, 53;
hero off stage, 57;
counter-stroke, 58;
humour, 61;
passion, 82;
catastrophe, 83-4;
versification, Note BB.

Coriolanus, 20, 29, 83-4, 196.

Cornwall, 298-9.

Crisis. See Conflict.

Curtain, no front, in Shakespeare's theatre, 185, 458.

_Cymbeline_, 7, 21, 72, 80, Note BB;
Queen in, 300.

Desdemona, 32, 165, 179, 193, 197, _201-6_, 323, 433, 437-9.

Disillusionment, in tragedies, 175.

Dog, the, Shakespeare and, 268.

Don John, 110, 210.

Double action in _King Lear_, 255-6, 262.

Dowden, E., 82, 105, 330, 408.

Dragging, 57-8, 64.

Drunkenness, invective against, 238.

Edgar, _305-7_, 453, 465.

Edmund, 210, 245, 253, _300-3_, Notes P, Q.
See Iago.

Emilia, 214-6, 237, _239-42_, Note P.

Emotional tension, variations of, 48-9.

Evil, origin of conflict, 34;
negative, 35;
in earlier and later tragedies, 82-3;
poetic portrayal of, 207-8;
aspects of, specially impressive to Shakespeare, 232-3;
in _King Lear_, 298, 303-4, 327;
in _Tempest_, 328-30;
in _Macbeth_, 331, 386.

Exposition, 41-7.

Fate, Fatality, 10, 26-30, 45, 59, 177, 181, 287, 340-6.

Fleay, F.G., 419, 424, 445, 467, 479.

Fool in _King Lear_, the, 258, _311-5_, 322, 447, Note V.

Fools, Shakespeare's, 310.

Forman, Dr., 468, 493.

Fortinbras, 90.

Fortune, 9, 10.

Freytag, G., 40, 63.

Furness, H.H., 199, 200.

Garnet and equivocation, 397, 470-1.

Ghost, Banquo's, 332, 335, 338, 361, Note FF.

Ghost, Caesar's, Note FF.

Ghost in _Hamlet_, 97, 100, 118, 120, 125, 126, 134, 136, 138-40,
_173-4_.

Ghosts, not hallucinations because appearing only to one in a company,
140.

Gloster, 272, _293-6_, 447.

Gnomic speeches, 74, 453.

Goethe, 101, 127, 165, 208.

Goneril, 245, _299-300_, 331, 370, 447-8.

Greek tragedy, 7, 16, 30, 33, 182, 276-9, 282.

Greene, 409.

Hales, J.W., 397.

_Hamlet_, exposition, 43-7;
conflict, 17, 47, 50-1;
crisis and counter-stroke, 52, 58-60, 136-7;
dragging, 57;
humour, and false hope, before catastrophe, 61, 63;
obscurities, 73;
undramatic passages, 72, 74;
place among tragedies, 80-8;
position of hero, 89-92;
not simply tragedy of thought, 82, 113, 127;
in the Romantic Revival, 92, 127-8;
lapse of time in, 129, 141;
accident, 15, 143, 173;
religious ideas, 144-5, 147-8, 172-4;
player's speech, 389-90, Note F;
grave-digger, 395-6;
last scene, 256.
See Notes A to H, and BB.

Hamlet, only tragic character in play, 90;
contrasted with Laertes and Fortinbras, 90, 106;
failure of early criticism of, 91;
supposed unintelligible, 93-4;
external view, 94-7;
'conscience' view, 97-101;
sentimental view, 101-4;
Schlegel-Coleridge view, 104-8, 116, 123, 126-7;
temperament, 109-10;
moral idealism, 110-3;
reflective genius, 113-5;
connection of this with inaction, 115-7;
origin of melancholy, 117-20;
its nature and effects, 120-7, 103, 158;
its diminution, 143-4;
his 'insanity,' 121-2, 421;
in Act II. 129-31, 155-6;
in III. i. 131-3, 157, 421;
in play-scene, 133-4;
spares King, 134-6, 100, 439;
with Queen, 136-8;
kills Polonius, 136-7, 104;
with Ghost, 138-40;
leaving Denmark, 140-1;
state after return, 143-5, 421;
in grave-yard, 145-6, 153, 158, 421-2;
in catastrophe, 102, 146-8, 151, 420-1;
and Ophelia, 103, 112, 119, 145-6, 152-9, 402, 420-1;
letter to Ophelia, 150, 403;
trick of repetition, 148-9;
word-play and humour, 149-52, 411;
aesthetic feeling, 133, 415;
and Iago, 208, 217, 222, 226;
other references, 9, 14, 20, 22, 28, 316, 353, Notes A to H.

Hanmer, 91.

Hazlitt, 209, 223, 228, 231, 243, 248.

Hecate, 342, Note Z.

Hegel, 16, 348.

_2 Henry VI._, 492.

_3 Henry VI._, 222, 418, 490, 492.

_Henry VIII._, 80, 472, 479.

Heredity, 30, 266, 303.

Hero, tragic, 7;
of 'high degree,' 9-11;
contributes to catastrophe, 12;
nature of, 19-23, 37;
error of, 21, 34;
unlucky, 28;
place of, in construction, 53-55;
absence of, from stage, 57;
in earlier and later plays, 81-2, 176;
in _King Lear_, 280;
feeling at death of, 147-8, 174, 198, 324.

Heywood, 140, 419.

Historical tragedies, 3, 53, 71.

Homer, 348.

Horatio, 99, 112, 310, Notes A, B, C.

Humour, constructional use of, 61;
Hamlet's, 149-52;
in _Othello_, 177;
in _Macbeth_, 395.

Hunter, J., 199, 338.

Iachimo, 21, 210.

Iago, and evil, 207, 232-3;
false views of, 208-11, 223-7;
danger of accepting his own evidence, 211-2, 222-5;
how he appeared to others, 213-5;
and to Emilia, 215-6, 439-40;
inferences hence, 217-8;
further analysis, 218-22;
source of his action, 222-31;
his tragedy, 218, 222, 232;
not merely evil, 233-5;
nor of supreme intellect, 236;
cause of failure, 236-7;
and Edmund, 245, 300-1, 464;
and Hamlet, 208, 217, 222, 226;
other references, 21, 28, 32, 192, 193, 196, 364, Notes L, M, P, Q.

Improbability, not always a defect, 69;
in _King Lear_, 249, 256-7.

Inconsistencies, 73;
real or supposed, in _Hamlet_, 408;
in _Othello_, Note I;
in _King Lear_, 256, Note T;
in _Macbeth_, Notes CC, EE.

Ingram, Prof., 478.

Insanity in tragedy, 13;
Ophelia's, 164-5, 399;
Lear's, 288-90.

Intrigue in tragedy, 12, 67, 179.

Irony, 182, 338.

Isabella, 316, 317, 321.

Jameson, Mrs., 165, 204, 379.

Jealousy in Othello, 178, 194, Note L.

Job, 11.

Johnson, 31, 91, 294, 298, 304, 377, 420.

Jonson, 69, 282, 389.

Juliet, 7, 204, 210.

_Julius Caesar_, 3, 7, 9, 33, 34, 479;
conflict, 17-8;
exposition, 43-5;
crisis, 52;
dragging, 57;
counter-stroke, 58;
quarrel-scene, 60-1;
battle-scenes, 62;
and _Hamlet_, 80-2;
style, 85-6.

Justice in tragedy, idea of, 31-33, 279, 318.

Kean, 99, 243-4.

Kent, _307-10_, 314, 321, 447, Note W.

King Claudius, 28, 102, 133, 137, 142, _168-72_, 402, 422.

_King John_, 394, 490-1.

_King Lear_, exposition, 44, 46-7;
conflict, 17, 53-4;
scenes of high and low tension, 49;
dragging, 57;
false hope before catastrophe, 63;
battle-scene, 62, 456-8;
soliloquy in, 72, 222;
place among tragedies, 82, 88, see Tate;
Tate's, 243-4;
two-fold character, 244-6;
not wholly dramatic, 247;
opening scene, 71, 249-51, 258, 319-21, 447;
blinding of Gloster, 185, 251;
catastrophe, 250-4, 271, 290-3, 309, 322-6;
structural defects, 254-6;
improbabilities, etc., 256-8;
vagueness of locality, 259-60;
poetic value of defects, 261;
double action, 262;
characterisation, 263;
tendency to symbolism, 264-5;
idea of monstrosity, 265-6;
beast and man, 266-8;
storm-scenes, 269-70, 286-7, 315;
question of government of world, in, 271-3;
supposed pessimism, 273-9, 284-5, 303-4, 322-30;
accident and fatality, 15, 250-4, 287-8;
intrigue in, 179;
evil in, 298, 303-4;
preaching patience, 330;
and _Othello_, 176-7, 179, 181, 244-5, 441-3;
and _Timon_, 245-7, 310, 326-7, 443-5;
other references, 8, 10, 61, 181, Notes R to Y, and BB.

König, G., Note BB.

Koppel, R., 306, 450, 453, 462.

Laertes, 90, 111, 142, 422.

Lamb, 202, 243, 248, 253, 255, 269, 343.

Language, Shakespeare's, defects of, 73, 75, 416.

Lear, 13, 14, 20, 28, 29, 32, 249-51, _280-93_, 293-5, Note W.

Leontes, 21, 194.

_Macbeth_, exposition, 43, 45-6;
conflict, 17-9, 48, 52;
crisis, 59, 60;
pathos and humour, 61, 391, 395-7;
battle-scenes, 62;
extended catastrophe, 64;
defects in construction, 57, 71;
place among tragedies, 82, 87-8, Note BB;
religious ideas, 172-4;
atmosphere of, 333;
effects of darkness, 333-4,
colour, 334-6,
storm, 336-7,
supernatural, etc., 337-8,
irony, 338-40;
Witches, 340-9, 362, 379-86;
imagery, 336, 357;
minor characters, 387;
simplicity, 388;
Senecan effect, 389-90;
bombast, 389, 417;
prose, 388, 397-400;
relief-scenes, 391;
sleep-walking scene, 378, 398, 400;
references to Gunpowder Plot, 397, 470-1;
all genuine? 388, 391, 395-7, Note Z;
and _Hamlet_, 331-2;
and _Richard III._, 338, 390, 395, 492;
other references, 7, 8, 386, and Notes Z to FF.

Macbeth, 13, 14, 20, 22, 28, 32, 63, 172, 343-5, _349-65_, 380, 383,
386, Notes CC, EE.

Macbeth, Lady, 13, 28, 32, 349-50, 358, 364, _366-79_, 398-400, Notes
CC, DD.

Macduff, 387, 391-2, 490-1.

Macduff, Lady, 61, 387, 391-2.

Macduff, little, 393-5.

Mackenzie, 91.

Marlowe, 211, 415-6.

Marston's possible reminiscences of Shakespeare's plays, 471-2.

_Measure for Measure_, 76, 78, 275, 397.

Mediaeval idea of tragedy, 8, 9.