932 UC-NRLF 1 E7 337 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE Ter- Centennial Address By WILLARD GIBSON DAY, A. M. Fac Similes of Shakspere's Authentic Sig- natures, and the Title Page of His First Edition of Hamlet FOR USE OF SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES For Sale by All Booksellers Copyright, April 23, 1916. N. C. Book Depot 326 N. Howard Street Baltimore, Md. COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY WILLARD GIBSON DAY. The Life of William Shakspere. ADDRESS BY WILLARD GIBSON DAY, A. M. Ladies and Gentlemen: The journey hence to London, is, in thought, an easy one ; and hardly more difficult on to Oxford, forty- six miles west of London. Thence we may go again northwest, .sixty miles, by the wagon road, to the ever classic river Avon. Stratford-on-Avon is situated in a wide valley, at a ford of the river, and hence called Stratford, or Valley Ford. It is an ancient town: was three hundred years old at the time of the Norman conquest. It has now about five thousand people, old and young, and had fourteen hundred in the time of Shaksipere. In the early days of the town, the little river let or hindered people's crossing, according to its own capricious will, until a plain, long, rumibling and un- certain wooden bridge was built. That lasted until the reign of Henry VII. when a low stone structure ot" fourteen pointed arches, took its place. The bridge still remains. Approaching Stratford by the London road, there may be seen, across the river, on the west bank, the east or chancel end of Stratford Church, with its high and wide old-English chancel window. You see also the churchyard, filled with graves, extending down to the edge of the water. Crossing the Avon, by the bridge, you turn to the left, along the nearest street, and soon you are at the entrance of the church. Then, going forward to the chancel, you see at your feet, and toward the left or north side, three graves, covered by stone slabs, and with inscriptions surmounted by coats-of-arms. The M195181 4 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. grave nearest the middle of the church, is that of Susanna Hall, eldest daughter of William Shakspere. Next to her's is that of her husband, Dr. John Hall, an eminent physician of Stratford. Close by the grave of Dr. Hall, is that of 'Thomas Nash, who married the daughter of the Halls, and thus the granddaughter of William Shakspere, and Ms last lineal descendant. Adjoining this grave, is that of i/he great poet. This is covered by a stone slab, on which is the now well known inscription : "Good friend, for lesu's sake, forbear To digge ye dust encloased here : Blest 'be ye man yt spares these stones, And curst be he yt moves my bones/' These words alone, doggerel as they are, have, by their miagic influence, kept the bones of Shakspera in their proper resting-place in Stratford; whereas otherwise they would long since have 'been removed to ome great corner aimong the less noible but mighty dead that lie (buried at Westminster. Beyond the slab that covers Shakspere's grave, i* a wider one, extending to the north wall of the church. This covers the grave of "Anne, beloved wife of Wm. Shakspere," who died in 1623, aged sixty-seven. Looking up from this last grave, we see immedi- ately over it, on the left or north wall of the chunch, the (bust of Shaksipere, taken in a sitting posture ; his hands resting on a cushion before him; his left hand holding a pen. This bust was placed in its position within seven years after his death. It was made from a cast taken from the face, and though very inartistic in itis details, is generally regarded as giving the most correct representation of the poet's personal appear- ance. It was even ipainted, to make it as life-like as possible : the face and hands flesh-color, the eyes hazel and the costume such as he had been accustomed to weacr. The Stratford Church is in the southern portion of (the town, while in the northern part, on Henley street, is istill shown the house, and even the room, ipoet was bom. This event took place on the THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEKE. 5 23rd of April, 1564. It was St. George's Day ; and all the military, civil and ecclesiastical officials were parading in their fullest uniforms. They passed the Shakespere birth-place, on their way to the great elm, at the northern 'boundary of the town, and where they halted in their march, read portions of the Holy Scriptures, chaunted psalms, and sung hymnls, led by choristers, in their white robes and surplices. There were also mimic shows, representations of St George killing the dragon; and other holiday sports; and at every turn of the street there went up shouts that filled the air, for "'St. George and merry Eng- land !" Well were they given on that happy anniversary ; for then indeed was born a man that did more for England and for us, for hds mother tongue, and for mankind, than all the Georges in the calendar, and whether commons, doctors, saints, or kings ! Born of whom? Of John and Mary Shakspere: then very plain and simple names ; but now more than honoraible titles. Mary Shakspere was the daughter of Agnes Webbe and Robert Arden, son of Robert Arden, groom of the bed-chamiber in the royal house- hold of Henry VII. The Arden family trace their lineage back to the time of Edward the Confessor. Mary Arden was a mild, amialble, lovable woman. Her father had died a year 'before her marriaige; and left her a home, in which she lived apart from her mother and sisters; a little lonesome, perhaps, until John Shakspere 'became a frequent visitor at the place. They were hasTdly married before uch allu- sions. He did not forget his early avocations even in his latest life and work. In the play of Henry VI., Shakspere makes the rebel Cade say to Dick, the butcher of As'hford, about hiis destruction of enemies : "They fell tefore thee like sheep and oxen; and thou behavedst thyself as thou hadst been in thine own slaughterhouse." Again he 'makes another butcher say: "Then is sin struck down, like an ox; And iniquity's throat cut, like a calf." All these illustrations show that Shakspere had seen butchering done, and probably had often assisted his father in the work. Mary Shakspere took care of her own children : and it may 'be partly owing to this fact, under Provi- dence, that the plague which visited the low fevery town of Stratford, in Shakspere' s infancy, did not take him to the other world, as it did one-sixth of the entire population of within six months. The doors of the houses were all marked with a red cross and the Latin words, "Miserere, Domine!" and the prayer itself, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" went up that year from many a sorrowing heart in that ill-fated town. When the poet was four years old, his father was mayor of the village, and held his court sessions in a chaimiber of the guild ; and the large-eyed, lighWiaired boy began with his earliest memory to take in with 8 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. wonderment the curious humors of men. Young as he was, he was a "chiel amang them," His father was ambitious for the son's education ; and Ms mother used her opportunities in teaching him to read. For the only school in the town was the StraJtford Free Grammar School; and that could not toe entered except by those who had learned to read. The poet undoulbtedly first studied the A B C or "Ab- sey Book/' to wftiidh he makes allusion in the play of King John. It contained the "Pater-noster, Ave- Maria, Crede and Ten Commandments in Englyshe;" and had 'been published ten years before the birth of Shakspere by John Day, a loyal churchmen, a friend learning, and a celebrated publisher who had the sole copy-right for that and several other works that were successively consumed in Shiakspere's course of edu- cation. When the poet was six years old, the family re- moved to a small farm at Ingon, two miles from Strat- ford. John Shakspere had rented it for eight pounds a year. William then had a good long healthy walk to his school, but which he could islhorten a little by com- ing cross-lots over the beautiful fields of Welcomibe, that lie northwest of the village, and which in his later Mfe ibecame Ms property. Here he had opportunity for his lyric observation of the spring : "When diaisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks, all silver white, And cuckoo buds, of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight !" And here also in the bad wintry weather, he could say, in the rhythm of his homeward steps > at night : "When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nails, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pails ; When blood is nipped and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl : To-JWhoo, TV>-whit, to-whoo, A merry note, while greasy Joan doth keel the pot." THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 9 Certainly lively pictures of isimple homely occupations, and the plain rustic living to which the poet was ac- customed. The Free Grammar School of Stratford was a classic institution; and as the church curates who taught were 'better instructed in Latin than in other branches, they generally taught that to the neglect of other, perhaps more useful knowledge. Sh&kspere undoubtedly studied Virgil, 'but was obliged to pick up geography in later life. And even then he knew so little of it that he located a sea in Bohemia; land made a love-lorn couple sail in a ship Where they could only possibly have gone by overland conveyance. A certain Thomas Hunt, curate of Ludington, was fortunate enough, perhaps, to preside over Shakspere as the "whining schoolboy;" if one could imagine that he ever did or could whine over any kind of learn- ing. And if the young poet'isi metrical brain was ever lulled to sleep by the busy hum of the .school, he might have gathered in his dreams the fairy information which he penned in after days, in the verse : "I know a bank wheron the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips, and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine." WTiile pursuing his studies in school, Sihakspere devoted himself to Wm. Lilly's grammar, which had a very attractive picture as a frontispiece : a large apple tree, with 'boys in the branches reaching for the fruit. No doubt young Shakspere took his share. And the book and picture may have led him into that doubt- ful character of poacher, which a stupid wiseacre set down for him the generation following. These were his words: " William Shakesipere, much given to all unluckiness, in stealing venison and rabbits, particu- larly from Sir Lucy ; who oft had him whipt, and some- times imprisoned ; and at last made him fly his native country, to his great advancement. From, an actor of plays he became a composer." This last sentence we may certainly endorse, with some qualification. But the other declarations were not only apochryphal but 10 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. impossible. Sir Lucy was in London, and not at all in Stratford, at the time set down for the deer-steal- ing business. And we can readily imagine what would have followed from the Lucys, or any of their retain- ers, flogging any one of stalwart John Shakspere's curly-headed sons. Shiakspere doubtless received much of his Bible in- formation througih the church services, which he at- tended in the chapel of the guild. And before the days of Cromwell the walls of this chapel were well adorned with historical and symbolical pictures. As he sat in his place, observing everything at once with his open, wide, wondering eyes, he took in the details of Becket's martyrdom, painted on one side of the room, and the inevitable retribution of the Last Judg- men on the other. A picture of "the seven deadly sins" came in for their share of his sharp, youthful analysis. His companion and friend, pedantic old Ben Johnson, had to acknowledge that Shakspere knew some Latin and a little Greek. And this he must have learned in his early life; for the most of his classical allusions are in his earlier works. In Henry VI. he quotes a line from Virgil, familiar to every student of the Aeneid: "Tantane animis celesti'bus ira?" And he alludes, at least six times, to Aeneas, always giving the proper accent to the name, and showing that he had isicanned its quantity, and under a proper instructor. While yet a schoolboy Shakspere began his obser- vation of royalty; the occasion being the visit of the queen Elizabeth to Sir Thomas Lucy at Charlecote; an event which stirred the society of Stratford to the depths. John Shaksipere was then chief magistrate; and at his tbest estate; and figured in a very enter- prising manner, no dou'bt, on the unusual occasion. William, being the eldest son, had, perhaps, various matters committed to his attention; and the entire family of little Shaksperes may have felt themselves very necessary to the preservation of the royal realm. But a change was to come over the hitherto happy THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 11 Shakspere household. The father has a large family to keep. He is of a liberal and generous dis/position. He has 'been spending money too rapidly, considering their limited means. There had been already seven children ; four daughters and three sons. Two of the daughters were older than the poet. It was found necessary to 'mortgage some property, to obtain a loan of forty pounds. But after receiving the proceeds the father is still too poor to pay his poor tax. The year following he is poorer still. The father and mother sell more property; and another son is added to the family, Edmund, who, when he grew up, followed his brother William to the stage in London. John Shaksipere absents himself from the town council, because he cannot face his creditors. Sir Thomas Lucy is appointed to find out who are disloyal to the government in not attending church; and John Shakspere assigns as his resaon for absence, the fear of being arrested for debt ! William is taken from school. He helps his father in every possible calling, buying and selling cattle, butchering, or doing any other out-door work. It was said that he had been a schoolmaster in the country. If true at all, it must have been "about this time," as the almanac-makers say. He may have instructed the neighboring children at Ingon, where the Shak- spere family had been living. Or, he may have gone to Shottery, and become more intimate with an excellent family that he had always known, the Hathaways, The Hathaways were better educated than the Shaksperes were, and may have been in some way early patrons of the poet's learning. At all events an intimacy springs up between the poet, aged seventeen, and Ann Hathaway, twenty-five. The lady was repre- sented as a beautiful woman, with dark hair and eyes, in pleasant contrast with the light auburn hair and hazel eyes of the poet. She had undoubtedly a lovely character; for her brother named his eldest daughter after her; and the Shakspere family did the same in the case of one of their younger children. She was also esteemed by others, and generally by those who 12 THE LIFE OP WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. knew her; for the -gardener on the Hathaway estate left in his will a small 'bequest for the poor of Strat- ford, which Mis Ann was to disburse at discretion. This simple fact goes very far toward indicating her actual Character. She undoubtedly admires Shakspere for his "hand- some, well-shapt" form, as described by the gossiping Aubrey ; as perhaps also for some faint "conception of his rare poetical genius. But when she finally comes to question herself closely she finds that she not only adnnires but loves him. She blames herself no doubt, but her love, as an advocate, soon acquits her. She may have been the inspirer of those (burning stanzas entitled the "Passionate pilgrim/' written 'by the poet in his adolescence. For if Shakspere ever loved a huonian being he loved Ann Hathaway then. She may have heard Dowland play, or sung his beautiful com- positions with a sweet, soft voice that matched her charming countenance. She might indeed have debated her love in her own heart in the words of that old English love^song : "0 was I to blame to love him? was I to 'blame to love him? So gallant, so kind, I could not be blind ; 1 was not to blame to love him. "My heart it may break with its sorrow, 'Tis lost for his sake, no complaint will I make, My heart it may break 'with its sorrow. "O saw you yon tree's sweet blossom? Like me, to youir sight, it fades with the blight ; Yet blame not the love nor the blossom ! "O pride of my heart, I love thee! The zephyr, the sky, may alter ; not I. I was not to blame to love thee!" It ilsi certain that Ann Hathaway loved S'hakspere with a will that nothing could conquer. And so it is not surprising that in this stage we find Shakspere in the character of the "lover, sighing like a furnace, THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 13 and with a woeful 'ballad made to his mistress' eye- brow!" This mutual attachment could not be kept from the keen observing eyes of the old father Hathaway, who saw in the disparity of their years disgrace for himself and his favorite daughter. She could not give her lover up; and so the father made a will, provid- ing for all his children but one. In less than a year he died; and on proving the will, it was found that Anne Hathaway's name was never even mentioned in it. Richard Hathaway died in July, 1582, and then perhaps the sternest opposition to Shakspere's mar- riage was removed. There was doubtess some kind of ibetrothal or pre-contract between the lovers, soich as in those days was looked upon as almost the same as a miarriage. And two of the men mentioned in father Hatha- way's will, John Richardson and Fulke Sandels, are within four months, again on the court records; this time in connection with William Shakspere. They have gone with him a day's ride on horseback, to Wor- cester, to 'become endorsers for Shakspere on his mar- riage bond. It is dated November 28, 1582, and al- lows the marriage after once asking of the tains, and with the consent "of her friends," whereas the law and custom both required three. Shakspere had given his word, and was anxious to make it his 'bond, at a time when any meaner nature would have sihown un- willingness, or certainly less alacrity than he did. The lovers were married, and a little more than half a year afterwlard their first child, Susannah, Shakspere's favorite daughter, was baptized. Twenty months later, twin children, Hamnet and Judith, were baptized. About this time John Shakspere was deprived of his alderman's gown, because of his continued absence from the sessions. The entire family was in the depths of poverty, and suffering all the most annoying dis- graces of debt What wonder then that Wm. Shak- spere, being still under twenty-one years of age, with 14 THE LIFE OP WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. no trtade or profession, but having 1 a wife and three small children to provide for, beside his need to help has wretched poverty-stricken parents, what wonder that he should determine to try the venture of his for- tune in the far off city of London? He left his native town, his home-nest, wife and children, father and mother, brothers and sisters, and all the other hearts he loved so well. We may see him take his way across that old stone bridge, that cared so little whom it separated. At the eastern end of the bridge three ways met, the middle one going to London. This he took, and journeyed on in a south- easterly direction. He crossed the eteep hills that divide his native Warwickshire from Oxfordshire. He traveled on foot, for the family could not have owned a horse. He trudged through the weary stretches of barren downs that mia)ke the beautiful Woodstock Park seem like a paradise! And how re- freshing would have been its legends of royal romance, the balladls of "Fair Rosamund," if he had only known of them! He must have stopped in that region tired and travel-worn, before he came, on the second day, to a resting-place at Oxford, that town of mighty learning, then in his wide-wondering eyes beyond the summit of his most classic aimibition! Here he may have lingered for a day, forming a couple of new acquaintances, the Davenants, and studying the ouit- sides of the college buildings. He could not have gone into tiie great Bodleian Library, which would now fall down and worship a page, or even a single line of Shakspere'is manuscript, were it to be found, for that library was not opened to the general public until four- teen years later. And Shakspere was then one only of ijhe most ordinary public, ragged, no doubt, disheart- ened, and suffering deeply from all the ills that ad- verse financial fortune can fall heir to. Shakspere stopped at the Crown Inn, a smiall and rather private tavern, kept by the very humble par- ents of William Davenant, Shakespere's namesake and godson; who in his manhood was knighted and called Sir William Daveniant; and for his excellent dramatic writing, "rare Sir William Davenant." THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 15 Leaving his newly-formed friends at Oxford, the youthful adventurer went on, four miles to Whatley, six more to Thetisford, five to Stocking Church, six to East Wickham, five to Bacconsfield, seven to Uxbridge, and then fifteen of the longest of all weary miles to his uncertain Mecca of London ! We may be thankful that on the journey his lodg- ing only cost him a penny a day; for which small sum beds were furnished with clean linen. If he had traveled on horseback, his own fare would have cost him nothing, the host in that case only charging for the keep of the horse. But one foot up and one foot down was Shakspere's way to London town. He even passed through "Banbury Cross" without the requisite of the nursery jingle with regard to the "hoisB." But what shall he do in London? What shall any man, without trade or profession, do in any large city today? If honest, he will certainly 'be glad to do any thing that offers. A clerkship in a grocery would have been a godsend to Shakspere ! It was not a time for him to choose an occupation mincingly. He could have attended market, and sold meats again siuocess- fully. Or, isance he could write, and wais therefore a "learned" man, he might have kept accounts, or per- haps drawn deeds such as he had seen in his father's office in Stratford ! But no such good place was open to Shaifcspere! Luckily for us, however, theatrical companies had visited Stratford every year during the poet's youth. And a certain Thomas Green, of Stratford, had found employment in a low capacity at the Blackfriars The- arte ; and thirther Shakspere went. He was admitted in the lowest capacity. It is believed and very well attested, that at first he held horses at the door of the theater. Happy horses! now certainly immortal- ized ! Shlakspere no doubt loved and petted them ; he stroked their intelligent faces, patted their 'beautiful necks; and they, in turn, sniffed at his curly hair, and nibbled with their sensitive lips at hi's ragged elbow; while the so-called masters of the noble ani- mals applauded to the echo scenes insdde the theater 16 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. which it proved the mission of the poet either to alter or abolish. Shakspere at length becomes lan actor of small parts, while as a supernumerary he helps to shift the few 'bungling scenes used to frame in the extravagant, ranting, peaeodc-strutting stars ! He became univer- sally useful about the place. And when it became his employment and duty to improve and reform the plays in use, (by Subtractions and additions of his own, he gets a spanking rebuff frofm a talented but dissipated and declining play-wright, one Robert Greene, who warns his friends to beware of Shakspere, as one hav- ing a "tyger's heart in a player's hide." He calls Shakspere an upstart crow, adorned with Greene's and other's feathers; and who believes that he can bomlbast out blank verse equal to the best of us !" Time haig certainly established the last supposition. Greene died, and a year later this allusion to Shak- spere found its way into print. Shakspere was very indignant over it; and so the publisher makes a very humible apology, anid fully endorses Shakspere's quick- ly-earned but excellent reputation both as a writer and as a mian. In 1592 John Shakispere is still in the depths of debt, but William has become a .shareholder in the Blackfriars Theatre. The next year he is admitted as part owner of the Globe Theater also, a play-house for (summer entertainments and built without a roof. But William is unable to help his father much, because the- atrical performances were prohibited on account of the plague prevailing in London. The next year, When Shakspere was thirty years old, he -began to print 'some of his earliest works. The poem entitled Venuis and Adonis was published in May, 1594, and dedicated to Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton. He afterwards published the second poetai entitled "The Rape of Luereece," and (similarly dedicated. These two letters of dedication are the only Shakspere letters now in existence. Of course the then unvalued originals of these letters perished in tjhe printing-office. Shatospere at that time had many frien'dfe among THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 17 the nobility ; and to establish himself more firmly as a well-born gentleman, and also to obtain a crumb of comfort for his debt-despairing father, he applies for a confirmation of a coat-of-arms, on the score of his great-grandfather's services as a soldier under Henry VII. The arms were granted, and John Shakspere, yoeman, was entitled to have Magister, or Mr., put before his name. But as people often forget it in writ- ing, the Mr. had to 'be interlined, or written over his name, as it is now commonly found. It is fortunate for us now, that he had this small title; for it helps us to distinguish the poet's father from another John eihakspere, a shoemaker, and at that time not on any account to 'be called a M'ister. In 1599 Shakspere again applies to the College-of- Arrms, in the name of his father, ibut in his mother's right, for the arms of Robert Arden to be united with tihose of John Shakspere. The request was granted; and so the poet (became, as we may say, doubly a gen- tleman; a title which, in his simple and true-souled ambition, he thoroughly delighted in. The theater was not hite chosen place ; nor were its associations gener- ally those he loved the most. He, was perfectly at home only with really ndble men, and whether he found these among his theatrical associates or else- where. During the poet's life in London, he was re- quired to pass through nearly every kind of human suffering. First, there wa's his long-continued separa- tion from his doting family. Early in this involuntary absence, he wrote from an Italian story, translated into English, the love-filled tragedy of Romeo and Juliet No doubt his own true heart was his ideal Romeo ; and the one he never ceased to love, the true Juliet The play presents the full-grown deep and honest love of man and woman, and not the simple, doubting, weak and tender "-maiden passion" for a maid. Shakspere' s wife was eight years older than him- self, and while he knew, from his own experience, all the difficulties of the isdtuataon; and while in his 18 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. own words he endorsed the general judgment of man- kind, in saying, in the play of Twelfth-Night: "Let ever the woman take an elder than herself," still there is not a particle oif evidence that he ever ceased to love her. His strong (attachment in his en- forced -absence may have begotten jealousy at times, a supposition not without some evidence. Shakspere certainly knew full well the torturing nature of thait unreasonable passion. He represented its long cres- cen'do uip to desperation in the play of Othello, where the fair beautiful wife is horribly and insanely mur- dered by the over-credulous black-a-moor husband. And then he gave its sublime diminuendo, dn the beautiful denouement of the Winter's Tale, where the wife, long mourned as dead is brought back in quick full life to her repentant husband's doubly-loving arms. This last play Shaksipere wrote in Stratford, after his retirement from London, and while in his own comfortable home, in the, cheering presence of that faithful woman, whose highest ambition was to 'be at the last 'laid in the same grave with him. If he ever bad any doubts of her, they were all dissipated when the play of the Winter's Tale was written. Perhaps Anne Shiaktepere had what we call now a tongue, and which she may at times have used unduly ; but while the poet has taught uis that a man can "smile and simile, and be a villain," he has also shown us in this play, by the character of Paulina, that an honest womian rniay scold somewhat heroically, and yet 'be something of a very angel. No writer ever equaled Shakspere in doing thor- ough hearty justice to the 'different varieties of woman- kind. In his early play of Richard III., he represents the fickleness of a weaik womian in her unsuccessful opposition to a most consummate villain man. Richard, after his interview with the Lady Anne, whom he has encountered on her way to bury her husband's body, exclaims : "Was ever womian, in thds humor woo'd? Was ever woman in this humor won? THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 19 I'll have her; ibut I will not keep her long! What! I, that killed her husband, and his father, To take her in her -heart's extremest hate, With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by; With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I, no friends to back my 'suit withal, But the plain devil and dissembling looks, And yet to win her! all the world to nothing!" And in Cymbeline, one of his latest plays, he makes a poor, deceived husband cry out in his bitter agony : "Could I find out The woman's part in me! For there's no motion Tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers; Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability, All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows, Why hers, in part, or all; but rather, all; For ev*n to vice They are not constant, but are changing still One vice but of a minute old, for one Not half so old as that! I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them : Yet, 'tis greater skill In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better!" Thus Shakspere gnvea the naturally-unjust thought and feeling of a deluded man against a wife who is an embodiment of womanly loveliness. In his maddening error he assigns a place for her to meet him, and where he expects to have her killed by a ser- vant, Pisanio. The husband, Leonatus, sendls Imogen, the wife, a letter, in which she reads these words: "Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven. What your own love will, out of this, advise you, fol- low." "Leonatus." Then Imogen : "O for a horse with wings! Hearst thou, Pisanio? He is at Milford-Haven! Read and tell me 20 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. How far tis thither. If one of mean affaarts May plod it in a week, why may not I Glide thirther in a day? Then, true Pisanio, Who longst 'like me to see thy lord ; who longst, let me bate, 'but not like me, yet longst, But in a fainter kind : O not like me : For mine's beyond beyond, say, and speak thick, Love's counsellors should fill the 'bores of hearing, To the smothering of the sense, how fiar it is To this same blessed Milford : And, by the way, Tell me how Wales was made so happy as To inherit such a haven : But, first of all, How may we steal hence : and, for the gap That we ishall make in time, from our hence going And return, to excuse: but first, how get hence: Why should excuse be born, or e'en begot? We'll talk of that hereafter. Prythee, sipeiaik, speak, How many score of miles may we well ride Twixt hour and 'hour? " Pisanio, (breaking in, "One score, twixt 'siun and sun, Madiam's enough for you ; and too much too." Imogen. "Why, one that rode unto his execution, man, Could never go so slow : I have heard of riding wagers Where horses have been nimbler than the sandtsi That run in the clock's behalf, But this is foolery : Go : bid my woman feign a sickness : Say, She'll home to her father; and provide me, instantly, A riding suit, no costlier than woudd fit A franklin's housewife " (Pisianio. "Madlam, you're best consider " Imogen. "I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues: but have a fog in them 1 'cannot look through. Away, I pray thee Do as I bid thee : Ther's no more to say : Accessible is none, but Milford way!" I venture the assertion tihat human language does THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 21 not contain a more graphic portrayal of true ardent feminine character than that exhibited in these won- derful lines : the intense affection, which exaggerates everything in Which it has -any interest; the instan- taneous perception of the difficulties in the path it has chosen; the magical resolution of the 'difficulties en- countered; and the surrender of the entire being to one dominant feeling; not to recognize these distin- guishing characteristics is to be ignorant of noble womanhood. Shakspere could not in his own heart conceive of a thoroughly false and wicked woman; and therefore Cressida, the false one, is the most absurd creature in all his plays. He endeavors to picture a wicked mother, in the play of Hamlet ; 'but he only succeeds in settling the blame on the unnatural uncle. Shakspere could not bear to leave the character of woman so dark as he found it in tha story called the "History of Hamiblet," from which he made the great drama ; and so, beside greatly improving the character of the mother, he puts in also the beautiful, tender character of Ophelia. Shakspere wrote King- Lear at home, where he doubtless contrasted his own two excellent daugh- ters, Susannah, aged 24, and Judith, 22, with the two ungrateful, false, and wicked creatures of the play. In 1596 Shakspere lost his only son Hamnet, a lad of twelve years old. And in the play of King John, written soon after, we must believe that we can see the traces of the poet's own deep, fatherly sorrow; as, for example, where the mother, Constance, is made to say of her young son, Arthur, then confined in a prison that would only open at his death: "And father Cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. If that be true, then I shall see my boy again ; For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, There was not isuch a gracious creature born, But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, - And chase the native beauty from his cheek ; An'd he will look as hollow 'as a ghost, 22 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. And dim, and meagre, as an ague's fit ; And so he'll die ; and, (rising 1 so again, When I shall meet him an the courts of 'heaven I shall not know him: therefore, never, never, M'uist I see my pretty Arthur, more?" Cardinal Pandulf. "You hold too heinous a respect of grief." GoniSitance. "He talks to me that never had a son!" Pandulf. "You are ass fond of grief as of your child." Conisitance. "Grief fills the iroom up of my albsent child, Lies in his bed; walks up and down with me; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words ; Remelnibers me of all his gracious parts; Stuffls out his vacant garments with his form. Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Easre-you-well : had you such loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do." Five years after the death of this only son, Shak- sper's father died, in Stratford; and there is a conjec- ture that S'hakspere left the stage, for a season, an'd visited Scotland ; and that this visit led to the produc- tion of Macbeth, which is isupposied to have been writ- ten soon after. In 1607 he attended the funeral oif his brother, Edmund, who was buried from a church in London. And among the funeral charges is one of twenty shill- ings for ringing a knell for Edmund on the great bell of the church. William Shakspere paid the funeral bills, and would allow no "maimed rites," even if his brother had (been only an indifferent and church- despised actor. Two months later, Mrs. Hathaway, Anne 'Sihak- spere's mother, died. And the isame day, Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. John and Suisiannah Shakspere Hall, was born. This Elizabeth proved to be the last of Shiakspere's lineal descendants; for although twice THE LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 23 married she had no children. At her death she had the title of Lady Barnard. Early in this year, 1608, Shakspere returned to Stratford to remain. His own mother was in declin- ing health. We may imagine the comfort she took in having the presence of her gifted, and even then quite celebrated