CHAPTER XXII

MAN'S RELATIONS TO THE SUPERNATURAL AS
SHOWN IN "MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM,"
"HAMLET," AND "THE TEMPEST"
|N the last lecture not only did two trains of discussion come &irly to- gether and coalesce, but a number of other strands of thought which have been presenting their ends here and there twined into the main result. Permit me for a single moment to present this coalescence of all our in- quiries freshly before your minds from a common point of view, as affording the proper light in which we are now to contrast these wonderful plays of Shakspere.
You remember that as we studied those phenomena of sound which are connoted under the term Verse, we found that all our three largest classifications — the Tunes of Verse, the Rhythms of Verse, and the Colours of Verse — were in reality due to rhythmic vibration in various forms, and, going further, we found that all rhythmic vi- bration seemed to be produced by the Opposition of Forces. In short, after having viewed a great many technical det^Is of verse-construction, the outcome ap-
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 253
peared to be that the poet, in arranging the tunes of verse, the rhythms of verse, and the colours of verse, was simply managing a diverse set of vibrations, that is, of oppositions — managing these as the material of his poetic art. The diagram
Tunes of Verse
Rhythms of Verse y = Vibrations = Oppositions
Colours of Verse
brings this outcome clearly before your mind.
But then the theory of oppositions came upon us from quite another direction. In two lectures we studied the Metrical Tests; and having examined Shakspere's early verse as compared with his late verse by these tests, we found that his whole progress as an artist in versification was towards a more artistic management of oppositions^ these oppositions being a wholly different set from those last named, a set depending upon the singular esthetic de- mands of the ear in listening to series of sounds. We found that the ear demanded regularity in verse-structure : but that it also demanded with equal rigour the very op- posite of that, namely, irregularity ; and since by the rime test we found Shakspere ever more artistically balan- cing the rime line, which represented regularity, against the blank line, which represented its opposite irregularity, the end-stopped line (regularity) against run-on line (irregu- larity), single-ending (regularity) against double-ending (irregu- larity), strong-ending (regularity) against weak-ending (irregu- larity), normal accent (regularity) against abnormal accent (irregu- larity).
254 SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
we were here led to contemplate Shakspere*s artistic management of a wholly different set of oppositions, these being the oppositions of the esthetic demands of the ear, instead of, as before, the oppositions of forces, which result in periodic or rhythmic vibration. The next diagram here, then, will present this outcome clearly to your eyes, viz.:
Rimed
vs. Blank Line
End-stopped vs. Run-on Line
Single-ending vs. Double-ending > = Oppositions
Strong-ending vs. Weak-ending Normal Accent vs. Abnormal Accent;
Thus we discovered that Shakspere grew all the time in the artistic management of these verse-oppositions.
We are now to go on and show, by the comparison of these plays, the Midsummer Nighfs Dream as representa- tive of Shakspere's youthful period, and The Tempest as representative of his perfectly mature period, that just as he advanced in the artistic management of these rhythmical oppositions, so he advanced in the artistic management of those moral oppositions which make up human life as these esthetic and physical oppositions make up verse. And we are to see if it is not, after all, the same exaltation of faculty, or genius, which arrives at supreme excellence in the due ordering of moral oppositions with that which arrives at supreme excellence in the due ordering of esthetic oppositions.
It will add a valuable weight of cumulative evidence to this now pending inquiry if I here ask your notice of a
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 255
still different set of artistic oppositions which Shakspere clearly learned better and better how to manage as he grew older. These are the oppositions of character against character, of figure against figure, of event against event, which are arranged with so much more freedom in later plays than in earlier ones. You observe that all these oppositions here in our diagrams concern Shakspere's art as verse-maker : the oppositions I now speak of concern his art as drama-maker, as playwright. Notice in how many of the early comedies there is a suspicion of stiffness, arising from the tendency to present every figure in the play with a kind of contrasting figure or foil to set it off, or at least with a kind of echo or companion. For ex- ample, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona we have Valen- tine, the symbol of constancy in love, set off with his contrast and foil, Proteus, the symbol of inconstancy ; the one is named from the Valentine of St. Valentine's day, you observe, the other from the old Proteus of the Greek mythus who changed his shape at will and so represented the inconstant lover. Further, we have Speed, the servant of Valentine, set over against Launce, the servant of Pro- teus ; and so on. Again, in the Comedy of Errors we have Antipholus of Ephesus and his servant Dromio of Ephe- sus set over against their twins Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse. Again, in Love*s Labour's Lost we have King Ferdinand set over against the Princess, Biron against Rosaline, Dumain against Katherine, Longa- ville against Maria, Armado against Jaquenetta, and so on, till at the last the whole company go off in pairs, every Jack having his Jill. Again, in Midsummer Night* s Dream we have Theseus against Hippolyta, Lysander against Hermia, Demetrius against Helena, by way of echoes ; and, by way of foils, a group of clowns against a group of fairies, a rude ass against a dainty queen, a
256 SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe turned into its opposing farce, and so on ; while — to cite no more examples — in Romeo and Juliet we have the enmity of Montague and Capulet set off against the love of Montague and Capulet, bridal scene set off against burial scene, love against death. In short, at first, if we narrowly scrutinise Shakspere*s early management of his oppositions as playwright, we perceive everywhere a tendency of things to go in pairs, to move by twos, in short, a tendency towards direct and pronounced oppositions. But if we consider the later plays with reference to this matter, there is a clear advance towards less pronounced pairing of figures and events, in short, towards less direct oppositions. There are still oppositions of this sort ; there must be : the esthetic sense of proportion in the spectator demands them, just as the esthetic sense of the ear demands these other oppositions. But also, in the present series of oppositions, we find, as I said, Shakspere using more art in ordering these play- wright's oppositions, more temperately and exquisitely adjusting figure to figure and foil to foil, when we come to the later plays, just as we found him exercising precisely the same temperance and wise control in ordering the oppositions of effect in verse-technic. This relation of the stiff oppositions of the early plays to the freer and more graceful oppositions of the later plays may be very clearly illustrated to the eye by asking one's self, if we had two lines to arrange in the most pleasant relations to each other, — the most pleasant relations, that is, for satisfying the eye's sense of proportion, — how should we go about it ? Well, Shakspere goes about it in the early plays by making both lines exactly equal in length and laying one exactly athwart the middle of the other, presenting the effect of this cross to the eye :
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 257
while in the later plays he arranges them, with a more delicate sense of proportion, in a form much more pleasing to the eye, by abolishing the direct, flat opposition of equal line to equal line and centre to centre and direction to direction, and taming it down, as it were, with the sub- stitution of a shorter line for the crossing one, and the moving up of the crossing-point to a place where every eye will take more pleasure in the figure, like this:
Now, then, in going on to look at these plays, we shall find, I think, that the same miraculous sense of propor- tion which has resulted in the finer ordering of these versecraft oppositions and these playwright's oppositions results, too, in the finer ordering of the moral oppositions of life. Let us see if this be not so by contrasting the views of life presented here in Midsummer Night^s Dream with those in The Tempest^ linking both to the inter- mediate view in Hamlet.
Here I will write the succession of these plays, in
2S8 SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
order that their relations in time might be clearly before your eyes :
1595 1602 1610
Midsummer Nighd Dream Hamlet The Tempest
Here, you observe, we have the Midsummer Night^s Dream ^ dating about 1 595 ; and if you will recall the more extended chronology which was developed during the last two lec- tures, you will observe that this date 1595 may be called the full flush of Shakspere's youthful period as a writer, when he had passed beyond the raw inexperience of his first attempts as playwright, and had certainly gathered his powers together sufficiently to express his whole thought of that time with marvellous force and beauty. We may therefore regard the Midsummer Night^s Dream as beauti- fully representative of the very heyday of his youthful period; and so we may regard Hamlet as representative of his Dark Period, when the rude shock of the real had come upon him ; and The Tempest as equally representative of that wondrous period of calm when he had conquered the real, when he had learned to forgive, when he showed his whole state of mind in that group of plays which hinge upon reconciliation and forgiveness of injuries— Cy»i^^//»^, ff^inter*s Tale^ Tempest^ Henry III^ and so on. I should have liked to array before you all the evidences, external and internal, of the precise dates here given ; but this would have involved an indulgence in minute scholarship which would not have suited such a course as the present, and, even passing this objection, it would have been im- possible to devote so much time as would be required for a matter which of itself has a voluminous literature. So perhaps it will sufliice as to the question of dates if I say as to yf Midsummer Night's Dream that its date is quite clearly fixed for us within certain limits through its men-
\
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 259
tion by Francis Meres in his Palladis Tatnidy IVits Trea- sury ^ published in 1598, where he speaks of it as if it were an already well-known play of Shakspere's. We thus know positively that the Midsummer Night^s Dream was written before 1598; various scholars have assigned it various places within that period : the New Shakspere So- ciety, building upon various evidences, places it as early as 1590-91, Mr. Fleay puts it in 1592, Drake has it 1593, Malone 1594, Stokes 1595 (upon what seems to me a very rational view of all the evidences), and Gervinus also in 1595. We are therefore perfectly safe in assuming that the enormous weight of scholarly opinion is clearly in favour of a date at least by 1595, if not earlier.
Again, in the case of Hamlet : while Stokes gives 1 599 as the date when it was written and 1 600 the date of its revision by Shakspere, Malone gives 1600, Mr. Fleay 1 60 1, and Gervinus, Delius, and the New Shakspere Society agree in assigning the date 1 602 ; so that, while — as you will please carefully observe — either of those dates would subserve the purpose of the present demonstration (which only requires Hamlet to have been written about 1600), and you see from the dates I have just given that the whole consensus of scholarship does point to about that period, perhaps we may fairly assume the weight of opinion to favour the date 1602, which is well on into the Dark Period, when he was writing all those grim and bitter tragedies of Othello^ Lear^ Macbeth^ Timon of Athens^ Troilus and Cressida^ and the like.
And lastly, in the case of The Tempest^ there are such positive external and quasi-external evidences pointing to about the year 16 10 as that in which Shakspere wrote it that I find Stokes, Fleay, the New Shakspere Society, Gervinus, Delius, Malone, and Drake all fixing indepen- dently upon i6ioor 1611, while Chalmers fixes upon a
26o SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
date so late as 1613. Personally I am well disposed towards 16 13, but certainly the overwhelming weight of scholarship is in favour of 1 610 or 161 1.
In the order of time, then, which is here given we may consider ourselves upon a safe basis for judgments as to Shakspere's growth. The keenest scholarship, the freest discussion, the widest search for external evidence, the most careful checking of conclusions by the Metrical Tests one after another, have all been applied to establish this general succession in time of these three plays ; and it is not in the least necessary to commit ourselves to the exact years here given in order to feel sure that these three plays represent three perfectly distinct epochs, separated from each other by several years, in Shakspere's spiritual existence.
Leaving, then, the question of chronology with satis- faction to this extent, mark, now, — by way of a sweeping outline which we will presently fill out with details and support with citations, — mark how completely these three plays form perfect types of three periods which inexorably occur in the life of every man, distinctly marked in the life of the man who thinks, vaguely but no less really in the life of the most thoughtless. Here is the young Shakspere's view of life : his thought is mainly upon love and acting, hence Theseus and Hippolyta, hence Lysander and Hermia and Demetrius and Helena, hence Bottom and Snout and their fellow-players; his eye, though a young eye, is sufficiently keen to have seen already that love does not run smoothly, that many a popular stage-play is as absurd as Pyramus and Thisbcj that many a popular actor, or popular poet, who has come to be the fashion and has got the world in love with him, is no more than a Bottom with an ass's head on his shoulders, so that Titania coying the ass's cheeks is but the sight so often
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 261
seen when the world is petting a popular statesman, or actor, or poet, who will presently go out of fashion and be as much despised by succeeding ages as Bottom will be when Titania's eyes are uncharmed : in short, the young eye already sees the twist and cross of life, but sees it as in a dream : and those of you who are old enough to look back upon your own young dream of life will recognise instantly that the dream is the only term which represents that unspeakable seeing of things without in the least realis- ing them which brings about that the youth admits all we tell him — we older ones — about life and the future, and, admitting it fully, nevertheless goes on right in the face of it to act just as if he knew nothing of it. In short, he sees as in a dream. It is the Dream Period. But here suddenly the dream is done. The real pinches the young dreamer and he awakes. This, too, is typical. Every man remembers the time in his own life, somewhere from near thirty to forty, when the actual oppositions of life came out before him and refused to be danced over and stared him grimly in the face : God or no God, faith or no faith, death or no death, honesty or policy, men good or men evil, the Church holy or the Church a fraud, life worth living or life not worth living — this, I say, is the shock of the real, this is the Hamlet period in every man's life.
And finally, — to finish this outline, — just as the man settles all these questions shocked upon him by the real, will be his Ideal Period. If he finds that the proper man- agement of these grim oppositions of life is by goodness, by humility, by love, by the fatherly care of a Prospero for his daughter Miranda, by the human tenderness of a Prospero finding all his enemies in his power and forgiv- ing their bitter injuries and practising his art to right the wrongs of men and to bring all evil beginnings to happy
a62 SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
issues, then his Ideal Period is fitly represented by this heavenly play in which, as you recall its plot, you recognise all these elements. Shakspere has unquestionably emerged from the cold paralysing doubts of Hamlet into the human tenderness and perfect love and faith of The Tempest^ a faith which can look clearly upon all the wretched crimes and follies of the crew of time, and still be tender and lov- ing and faithful. In short, he has learned to manage the Hamlet antagonisms, to adjust the moral oppositions, with the same artistic sense of proportion with which we saw him managing and adjusting the verse-oppositions and the figure-oppositions.
And now, with this general direction of Shakspere's moral growth before us, let us descend to some details of it as they shine out in these plays. And remembering the useful division of man's possible relations in life as given in the last lecture, let us inquire. What is the attitude of man towards the supernatural in these three plays ?
Beginning with the Midsummer Night* s Dreamy clearly man is the sport of vague, unseen powers, of the powers of Nature. It must be observed with the greatest care, for proper views on this matter, that there is a sense of the word Nature in which it means exactly the supernatural, and perhaps this is the most common sense in which it is thought by many persons. Those who have vague beliefe, or who do not wish to specify their beliefs at the particular moment, will say, for example, that Nature has made man thus and so, or Nature has arranged this and that order, or that such a matter is a law of Nature — meaning, you observe, always what is meant by the supernatural when other senses of the word Nature are thought. Now this purposely vague use of Nature by one who has a vague belief is exactly the conception of the dreaming youth, and here in the Midsummer Night*s Dream the powers of
MAN AND THE SUPERNATURAL 263
Nature are playing with man as the supernatural, some- times crossing him, sometimes blessing him, but with no reason or order in either cross or blessing. The logical outcome of it, here, is simply chance. Chance is Oberon and Puck and Titania : Lysander loves Hermia and Demetrius loves Hefmia; Helena loves Demetrius and Demetrius hates Helena. Presently a chance mistake of the careless minister of chance. Puck, reverses these con- ditions, and things are more hopelessly twisted than ever : Demetrius dotes on Helena, Helena dotes on Lysander, Titania dotes on an ass ; the whole world of love is awry, and a laughing or bad-humoured spirit working it all, no reason guiding him, nothing but caprice for a conscience.
In short, here is no formulated faith at all in Shak- spere. Why have any faith ? What is faith ? He does not know the meaning of it. The world is rich ; life is full. If there is a twist and a contradiction in things, why, come forward, imagination ; I will build me a better world. Down with care and dismal thought and death ; this is May-time ; let us go forth into the greenwood and do our observance. Such seems the final utterance of this dream : no belief formulated, and, if the logical result should be drawn, — though he has not had time to draw it, of course, — nothing but a Puck and an Oberon at the helm of things, the one tricksy by nature, the other peevish or smiling as the humour takes him — in short, chance regnant.
But here life arises, puts out a stern finger, and says to our young Shakspere : " Answer me these questions straightway : What is death, and why is it ? How comes it that the Omnipotent allows such crimes as the murder of Denmark's king by the wife of his bosom ? What is the ministry of revenge in this life ? How far may a man pay off murder with murder ? What is duty to a time out of joint ? What is love, what is religion, what is the soul, what is the
264 SHAKSPERE AND HIS FORERUNNERS
grave ? Answer me ! The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." And what answers Hamlet? From beginning to end he never really makes up his mind. Hamlet is morally an interrogation-point. He answers life's question by asking another question : Ought I to do this or that ? To be or not to be ? Shall I believe this Ghost or doubt him ? Shall I stab the King or not stab him ? Shall 1 be insane or shall I not be insane ? Ought I to avoid this awful mission of setting right a disjointed time, or accept it ? ^ Thus the real thrusts at Hamlet, and Hamlet thrusts not back, but leaps aside. Perhaps, with all the floods of Hamlet commentary and Hamlet literature, this absolute lack o(htY\t(y combined with the yearning belief that he does believe^ in Hamlet, has never been properly in- sisted on. Permit me to call your attention to a very clear and striking instance of it. Let us analyse Hamlet's thought in the soliloquy, and then lay it alongside his thought at a very important moment only a little while afterward. First, he is pondering the question of the after-death — to be or not to be ? And the outcome of his pondering is simply that we do not and cannot know what comes after death ; that that absolute and inexorable
^ The French proverb says Qui parte thought. The proverb means the
ipie^ forte faix (Who bears a sword, bears peace). But it is in a very different sense that Christ antici- pated this saying when he declares, I come not to bring peace ^ but a sword. The proverb refers to that peace which conies from dread of one's neighbour's sword, Christ to that which results from struggle against old superstition and final emergence into the serenity of higher planes of
peace of defeat, Christ's utterance the peace of victory. And compare with either of these the cowardly Hamlet's cry : " The time is oat of joint : O cursed spite. That ever I was born to set it right ! '' Cf. old Gabriel Harvey's saying: *'It is enough for one, yea, for the best one, to carry the burthen of his own transgressions and errors. "
I
The iragicall Hiftorie of
HAMLET
Prince of DenmarJcc, '
Emrrtw«CtMtmii. Y^rr,mJff ^ 1
1. v3Tiii
Tixpanneirof my watch, bid ibem make hafle.