Shakespeare's problem plays: Studies in form and meaning 9783111392226, 9783111029719

Citation preview

STUDIES IN ENGLISH Volume XIX

LITERATURE

SHAKESPEARE'S PROBLEM PLAYS Studies in Form and Meaning

by

WILLIAM B. TOOLE

El 1966 MOUTON & CO. LONDON

· THE H A G U E ·

PARIS

© Copyright 1966 by Mouton & Co., Publishers, The Hague, The Netherlands. No part of this book may be translated or reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publishers.

Printed in the Netherlands

PREFACE

The purpose of this book is to examine Shakespeare's problem plays individually and as a group. The first chapter outlines, in historical order, the three most prominent approaches to this set of plays and suggests the basis for a fourth approach, which may be found in Nevill Coghill's theory that some of Shakespeare's plays are similar in pattern to Dante's Divine Comedy. The second chapter is an attempt to provide some support for this theory by comparing the framework of Dante's Comedy with the frameworks of the English form of the medieval mystery cycle and morality play, which, in some instances, exerted a great influence on Shakespeare's craftsmanship. If the theological pattern which governs the structure of the Divine Comedy is reflected in a Shakespearian play, it is, I think, plausible to assume that this pattern came to Shakespeare through the mystery cycle and the morality play. Thus the point I attempt to make is this: Though Shakespeare was probably not aware of Dante's conception of comedy, he has made use of it, to greater or lesser extent, in those plays of his in which the morality-play and mystery-cycle pattern is prominent structurally. Chapters three through six contain separate analyses of the four problem plays in the following order: Hamlet, All's Well That Ends Well,1 Measure for Measure, and Troilus and Cressida. None of the interpretations is intended to be exhaustive. Less is said, for example, about Hamlet, the richest of the plays, than any of the others. I have 1 The chapter on "All's Well" was originally scheduled for publication in the 1965 Autumn issue of the Shakespeare Quarterly. It was withdrawn to avoid duplicate publication.

6

PREFACE

restricted myself to a discussion of those elements in the play which have a bearing on the medieval theory of comedy. This center of reference the chapter on Hamlet shares with the chapters on All's Well and Measure for Measure, which I treat in more detail for reasons that should become obvious. Troilus and Cressida is, as I try to show, another matter. Its structure is not in any way based on the pattern that links Hamlet with All's Well and Measure for Measure. The final chapter is an attempt to make a few general observations about what these plays have in common with regard to form and meaning and to compare my conclusions to those reached by Dowden, Lawrence, and Tillyard, whose views are summarized in the first chapter. I should like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to the two men who directed this book in its original form as a dissertation, Dr. Claude Lee Finney and Dr. Edgar Hill Duncan of Vanderbilt University. My interest in this project was excited in Dr. Finney's seminar in Shakespeare. Dr. Finney introduced me to the background of information which provides the point of departure for this study, and he also led me to see clearly the importance of combining the approach of historical scholarship with that of the new criticism in any attempt to understand or evaluate the achievement of Shakespeare. The influence of Dr. Duncan upon me has also been marked. As a first-year graduate student in his Victorian literature seminar I became aware of the true value of the discipline and integrity of scholarship, and he has been a friend and an adviser to me throughout my graduate career. Both of these men have meant a great deal to me. I wish this work were a more worthy reflection of what I have learned from them. I wish also to express my appreciation to the Research and Development Fund Committee of North Carolina State of the University of North Carolina at Raleigh for a generous grant which helped to make the publication of this book possible. Finally, I should acknowledge another great personal obligation by saying: This is for Katie, who gladly listened - even, as she has earnestly assured me, when she fell asleep.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface

5

I. Major Critical Approaches to the Problem Plays . .

9

II. The Divine Comedy, the Morality Play, The Mystery Cycle ΙΠ. Hamlet IV. All's Well That Ends Well

39 98 122

V. Measure for Measure

158

VI. Troilus and Cressida

198

VII. Conclusion

231

Bibliography

238

I. MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES TO THE PROBLEM PLAYS

Within the last three decades Shakespeare's so-called "dark comedies" or "problem plays" have received a great deal of critical attention. Referring to three of the plays considered to be part of this group - Troilus and Cressida, All's Well That Ends Well, and Measure for Measure - , J. R. Brown suggests that our age of anxiety may overestimate "their success and relative importance among Shakespeare's works.. ,".1 Possibly. But one should note that it is also possible that a better understanding of the significance of these plays for the age in which they were written, gradually developing as a result of the research and insights of various scholars over the past thirty years, has resulted in our being better able to determine their merits than ever before. It seems to me, at any rate, that, so far as the main currents of criticism are concerned, it is not so much an exceptional modernity of theme or of technique which accounts for an increased critical interest in these plays as a more acute understanding of the social, historical, literary, and intellectual milieu, the cultural complex, in which they are rooted. Hamlet, which some critics have classified as a problem play, has, of course, been of consuming interest to Shakespearian interpreters of every era. In this chapter we shall chart the main drift of the criticism which is pertinent to the four plays as a group, deferring a consideration of important studies of the plays individually to the chapters on 1 John Russell Brown, "The Interpretation of Shakespeare's Comedies: 1900-1953", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), p. 13.

10

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

the respective dramas,2 and explain in some detail the point of view from which we shall approach them. Three prominent stages may be discerned in the critical history of the dark or problem plays: (1) the classification, based on biographical inferences, suggested by Edward Dowden in 1889;8 (2) the reorientation supplied by W. W. Lawrence's social and historical spadework in 1931;4 and (3) the full-length interpretation and evaluation of the plays as works of art by E. M. W. Tillyard in 1950.5 Dowden found that All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus present a striking contrast to such mature comedies as Much Ado, As You Like It, and Twelfth Night. All's Well, he decided, though ending happily, is "earnest" and "serious" rather than "bright" and "sunny". In Measure for Measure, a play dark and severe in tone, a noble heroine stands out against an evil world, but, like Helena in All's Well, lacks the romantic charm of a Viola or a Rosalind. Moreover, the bitter and ironical Troilus and Cressida takes us still further from the spirit of true comedy: "It is the comedy of disillusion." 9 Shakespeare was "writing comedy when he ought to have been engaged on tragedy, and creating characters in heroic mold which in comedy hardly find their fitting places".7 * A survey of the criticism of All's Well, Troilus, and Measure for Measure to 1950 may be found in H. C. Morris' "Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Criticism of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies" (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1957). 3 Edward Dowden, Shakspere (New York, D. Appleton and Co., 1889). * W. W. Lawrence, Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, 2d ed. (New York, Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1960). 6 Ε. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's Problem Plays, 3d ed. (London, Chatto & Windus Ltd., 1957). 8 Dowden, op. cit., pp. 52-53. In the first edition of Shakespeare: A Critical Study of His Mind and Art (New York, Harper & Brothers, 1875), Dowden declined to discuss Troilus and Cressida until he could "see his way more clearly through certain difficulties respecting its date and its ethical significance" (p. 82). In the "Preface to the Third Edition" of that work, however, he reiterated the view given above: "I now believe this strange and difficult play was a last attempt to continue comedy, made when Shakspere had ceased to be able to smile genially, and when he must be either ironical or else take a deep, passionate, and tragical view of life" (p. xii). 7 Ibid., p. 53.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

11

These plays fall in the third of the four periods that Dowden distinguishes in Shakespeare's development as a playwright, the period which he calls "Out of the Depths".8 For some personal reason, according to Dowden, Shakespeare cared no longer for "tales of mirth and love, for the stir and movement of history, for the pomp of war; he needed to sound, with his imagination, the depths of the human heart; to inquire into the darkest and saddest parts of human life; to study the great mystery of evil". Though he never lost his belief in human virtue, "his genius left the bright surface of the world, and was at work in the very heart and centre of things".8 In the fourth period ("On the Heights"), however, Shakespeare's tone reveals that he has attained a serenity that springs from fortitude and a recognition of human frailty. For a supernatural element is present in the romances: "Man does not strive with circumstances and with his own passions in darkness... Shakespeare's faith seems to have been that there is something without and around our human lives, of which we know little, yet which we know to be beneficent and divine." 10 We may assume, then, that for Dowden the lack of the supernatural element, the suggestion of a beneficent providence, separates the "dark comedies" from the plays written during Shakespeare's last creative period. Few questioned the designation "dark comedies", which Dowden gave to the plays, until Lawrence published the fruit of fifteen years' research in Shakespeare's Problem Comedies.11 Lawrence called All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus "problem plays". This label was not, he believed, completely satisfactory, but he could not find a better alternative. As precedent for the use of this term, he cited F. S. Boas,12 who had included Hamlet in the group. Boas asserted that the four problem plays reveal decadent, artificial societies where abnormal conditions of mind and feeling are represented, "and intricate cases 8

Ibid., p. 48. • Ibid., p. 59. 10 Ibid., p. 60. 11 John R. Brown, op. cit., p. 10. 12 F. S. Boas, Shakespeare and His Predecessors (New York, Scribner, 1902).

12

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

of conscience demand a solution by unprecedented methods".18 At the conclusion of each of these plays, he said, we feel neither joy nor pain; "we are excited, fascinated, perplexed, for the issues raised preclude a completely satisfactory outcome.. ,".14 And though there is an outward adjustment of affairs in All's Well and Measure for Measure, this statement is just as true for them as it is for Troilus and Hamlet, which have no partial settlement of difficulties. These plays, then, he maintained, are better called problem plays than comedies or tragedies.15 In the main Lawrence agrees with Boas. He finds "problem play" particularly useful as a term to apply to those dramas which may not be considered tragedies and yet which are too serious or analytic to be considered comedies. But he prefers to exclude tragedies from the category of the problem play since it is difficult many times to "determine whether a tragedy may also be called a problem play, or may be better so named".16 Thus Lawrence does not consider Hamlet part of this group. All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus, however, though apparently written in alternation with other work, deserve to be studied together because they share characteristics of style and temper: The settings and plots come from romance, but each of these plays is treated seriously and realistically; and each of them is concerned to a marked degree with repulsive episodes and with characters whose conduct leads us to question their actions and motives. "These pieces, in short", Lawrence states, "reveal to us a new phase of Shakespeare's mind and a new type of comedy." 17 The essential characteristic of a Shakespearian problem play, Lawrence says, is this: "A perplexing and distressing complication in human life is presented in a spirit of high seriousness." 18 In distinguishing Shakespeare's problem comedies from the com19

Quoted from Boas by Lawrence, op. cit., p. 3. Ibid. 16 Ibid., p. 4. 18 Ibid., p. 5. " Ibid., p. 3. 18 Ibid., p. 4. "

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

13

edies which precede them, however, Lawrence is careful to make an important qualification: that painful and even tragic complications may be found in the early and middle comedies. But he says that in a problem play the action is controlled to a far greater extent by the painful complication than it is in a legitimate comedy: The problem mood dominates the action of a problem comedy. Plays like Twelfth Night and The Merchant of Venice may be considered comedies because the sufferings of Malvolio and Shylock do not control the actions of their dramas to the degree that they may be considered problem plays.19 To understand what the problem comedies would have meant on the simplest level to Shakespeare's audience, Lawrence examines the medieval tales which form the basis of their plots, the narrative units or central lines of which were thoroughly familiar to the Elizabethans, who possessed "a richer heritage of narrative than the playgoers of today . . .".20 These tales contained set themes which, in spite of the various plot transmutations that had taken place in the process of being passed from one storyteller to another, maintained a definite and recognizable form. 21 Though Shakespeare also made changes in the plots he borrowed, seldom, says Lawrence, did his modifications run "counter to the fundamental conceptions which his theme involved . . .".22 Shakespeare, Lawrence goes on to say, invested these romantic plots with realistic character portrayal, but he could not remove certain irrational or absurd elements without spoiling the stories. The folk-tales and aristocratic conventions upon which the narrative units rested, though at variance with common sense or psychological realism, provided, nevertheless, a logic of their own which the Elizabethans accepted. By insisting upon the importance of the traditional in the framework of these plays Lawrence is not attempting to suggest that Shakespeare's was a mechanical artistry. But he does maintain that it is important to understand the extent to which Shakespeare was bound by tradi19

Ibid., p. 6. ® Ibid., p. 16. 81 Ibid., p. 21. 22 Ibid., p. 18. 2

14

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

tions inconsistent with the logic of life before attempting to penetrate the higher reaches of his imagination: The universality of his genius, which seems at times to transcend time and place, the modernity of his thought, carry us triumphantly, on a mighty surge, past many incongruities which appear disturbing upon more careful study. The rational way to account for these incongruities is not only to attempt to explain them logically, but to ask if they may not in part be due to Shakespeare's acceptance of traditions which are inconsistent with the logic of life as we understand it today - traditions the potency of whioh even he was powerless to escape." The social and historical focus of Lawrence's work is deliberate; he prefers to have his study regarded as a point of departure for further interpretive work, but he believes he has indicated the nature of ultimate solutions.84 His research is designed to answer two questions: (1) What do the plays mean? i.e., how did Shakespeare intend for them to be understood by his audience? and (2) Where do they stand in the development of his mind and art?» Lawrence concludes that the themes of the "problem comedies", which had been derived from romantic stories and which had acquired traditional meanings, have not been distorted by Shakespeare. They mean what they had always meant. The plays are not satirical or ironical; neither are they ambiguous with regard to the interpretation of character. What distinguishes them from the romantic comedies is a "preoccupation with the darker sides of life, and a deeper and more serious probing of its mysteries, particularly those of sex".26 In the earlier comedies, which also exhibited a critical and reflective spirit, Shakespeare had practiced the same blend of romance and realism, but with more success: Through the realism of the earlier comedies he had commanded sympathy, or reader involvement, without sacrificing the charm of romance.27 But, Lawrence seems to believe, » Ibid., p. 24-25. " Ibid., p. 30. 25 Ibid., pp. 11-12. 2 « Ibid., p. 206. 27 Ibid., p. 208.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

15

the depth of seriousness in the problem plays upset the balance. The differences between the problem comedies and their predecessors Lawrence attributes not to personal bitterness or gloom on the part of their creator but, on the one hand, to the broader vision and increasing seriousness that comes with maturity and, on the other, to the influence of the climate of the times, which was more serious and less romantic than it had been in the past.' 8 He maintains that no dramatist could fail to be influenced by the fashion of the times and suggests that one reason for the weakness in the problem plays is that Shakespeare was working with themes not entirely congenial to his artistry. The "hardness and mechanical quality occasionally observable in the completed plays", he says, may result from such an incompatibility. 29 Lawrence, then, gives a new direction to the criticism of the "problem comedies". And, with the exception of what may be called a small but determined critical cross-current deriving from interpretations of the plays individually by various critics, his judgments have been quite influential. 80 « Ibid. » Ibid., p. 221. 80 Which is not to say, of course, that they have been accepted completely. But his work does mark a significant milestone in problem play criticism. For, with the exception of one line of interpretation (see footnote 82) deriving from the Dowden approach, later critics, in interpreting the plays, are more inclined to acknowledge the significance of cultural rather than biographical influences. Moreover, Lawrence's observations on the plays as a group have been echoed, with minor deviations and additions, by the most prominent critics who came after him. A brief glance at the conclusions of some of these critics seems in order. J. M. Murry (Shakespeare, New York, Harcourt Brace and Co., 1936) accepts Lawrence's conclusion that the meanings of the problem comedies (he discusses only Alts Well and Measure for Measure) are governed to a certain extent by the necessities of traditional story but refuses to go all the way. He admits, for example, that All's Well is not the "supremely cynical title" he once considered it but asserts that it is cynical in a "goodhumoured way". The difference is that the object of the good-humored cynicism is not "humanity in general, but Shakespeare's own impossible job as a playwright. He cannot help making his creatures free, yet tradition keeps them in chains" (p. 253). Η. B. Charlton (Shakespearian Comedy, London, Methuen & Co., 1938) calls the group "dark comedies" but points out, like Lawrence, that they are not really dark when considered from the Elizabethan perspective. He also observes that they are really problem

16

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

The next significant study of this group of plays comes some twenty years after Lawrence's work, and the predominantly esthetic approach of Ε. M. W. Tillyard in Shakespeare's Problem Plays appears to be built - at least partially - on the foundation provided by Lawrence.31 Like Lawrence, Tillyard finds "problem play" to be a useful, if not entirely satisfactory, classification. To the group studied by Lawrence, he, following Boas, adds Hamlet. These characteristics shared by the four plays serve, he believes, to make them a genuine group: (1) Shakespeare is preoccupied throughout with religious dogma and/or abstract speculation as he was in the later tragedies; but the problem plays do not absorb the dogma as successfully as the later dramas;32 and (2) " . . . Shakespeare displays an interest in observing and recording the details of human nature for its own sake in a way not found elsewhere. It is as if at that time he was freshly struck by the fascination of the human spectacle as a spectacle and that he was more content than at other times

plays because they are examples of dramatic work in which the intellect has frustrated the imagination. Charlton's main theory, however, in no way parallels any judgment of Lawrence's. For he believes that All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus constitute a road by which Shakespeare "climbed from the misleading comedy of Falstaff to the richer and more satisfying comic air of Twelfth Night, As You Like It, and Much Ado" (pp. 211-212). This theory, as J. R. Brown points out, is generally unacceptable. (op. cit., p. 2) Hazleton Spencer (The Art and Life of William Shakespeare, New York, Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1940) considers realistic comedies to be a better label for the group than problem plays. Yet in most of his other generalizations he follows Lawrence. The differences in tone which separate the "realistic comedies" from their predecessors he attributes to the shadow which had fallen over Elizabethan England toward the end of the century and to Shakespeare's coming "face to face with middle a g e . . . " (p. 282). And he cites the troubled attitude toward sex as one characteristic of the group (p. 281). Furthermore, his interpretations of the plays take into account the significance of the narrative tradition explained by Lawrence. This last statement also holds true for Hardin Craig (An Interpretation of Shakespeare, New York, The Citadel Press, 1948) and Τ. M. Parrott (Shakespearean Comedy, New York, Oxford University Press, 1949). 31 He accepts Lawrence's explanation of the way in which the medieval narrative tradition governs the meanings of the plays. 32 Tillyard, op. cit., p. 3.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

17

merely to record his observation without subordinating it to a great overriding theme".88 Aside from these general characteristics, Tillyard finds that the plays have certain details in common. In each play there is the theme of a young man receiving a shock that forces him to grow up. And, he points out, in at least three of the plays the process of growth takes place at night.84 Finally, he notes Shakespeare's interest "in the old and new generations and in old and new habits of thought".85 This interest, he admits, appears only in Troilus and All's Well, but he believes that "it is likely to represent a genuine interest belonging to the whole period".8· As problem plays Tillyard makes this distinction between Troilus and Hamlet, on the one hand, and All's Well and Measure for Measure, on the other: The first two are "problem plays because they deal with and display interesting problems"; the latter two "because they are problems".87 Hamlet deserves to be classified as a problem play because it lacks the definiteness and formal quality of the tragic mode: . . . in ideal tragedy life is presented in a startlingly clear and unmistakable shape: we are meant to see it indubitably so and not otherwise. When sheer explication, or abundance of things presented, takes first place, then we leave the realm of tragedy for that of the problem play. Here it is the problems themselves, their richness, their interest and their diversity, and not their solution or significant arrangement that come first.88

Troilus, though it contains less tragic content, is, like Hamlet, a drama "of display rather than of ordering".8· In Troilus "human plans count for little and the sheer gestation of time and what it reveals count for much".40 Hamlet and Troilus, then, according to Tillyard, Ibid., pp. 5-6. Ibid., pp. 6-7. 8» Ibid., p. 9. 89 Ibid. 87 Ibid., pp. 1-2. 88 Ibid., p. 31. 8» Ibid., pp. 31-82. " Ibid., p. 82. 88 84

18

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

. . . are primarily dramas where the sheer wealth of the display counts for more than the lessons we learn from the way events are disposed. For such lessons we do indeed require characters who force the pace, who make time run; if display is required, no matter if designs cancel from doing.41 out or come to nothing and characters are either weak or stopped All's Well Tillyard praises for its masterly plot construction and characterization but feels that the play is a failure because Shakespeare's poetic imagination failed at crucial points: The imagination has not done its full work. The artistic process has somehow halted before completion. Of all poets Shakespeare is least prone to violate the drama by speaking in his own person. Yet here there is the suspicion that his personal feelings, unobjectified and untransmuted, have slipped illegitimately into places which his poetic imagination, not fully kindled, has not succeeded in reaching.48 Measure for Measure also reveals a failure of the poetic imagination, for it breaks in the middle: The simple and ineluctable fact is that the tone in the first half of the play is frankly, acutely human and quite hostile to the tone of allegory or symbol. And, however much the tone changes in the second half, nothing in the world can make an allegorical interpretation poetically valid throughout.4' One aspect of Tillyard's readings of the plays which we have not mentioned provides a link with what may prove to be a fourth stage in the critical history of these plays. For Tillyard recognizes to a degree the importance of the theological or religious elements in this group, which, like the narrative units, are an inheritance from the middle ages. Noting, for example, Hamlet's connection with the miracle plays, he remarks: "Hamlet is one of the most medieval as well as one of the most acutely modern of Shakespeare's plays." 44 He also comments on the prominence of the themes of mercy and forgiveness in All's Well and Measure for Measure.15 And several of his finest interpretive passages, Ibid., Ibid., 48 Ibid., ** Ibid., 45 Ibid., 41

42

p. 83. p. 106. p. 123. p. 30. p. 140.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

19

as we shall see, are based on his understanding of the Christian atmosphere. Another important background element, then, has been brought to bear, however spottily, on the interpretation of this set of plays. And this element, which is derived from the central doctrines of medieval Christianity, is of more importance to an understanding of the construction of at least three of the plays in the problem group than the element of narrative tradition. What I take to be the foundation for a fourth stage in the critical history of the problem group is explained in Nevill Coghill's "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy".46 Coghill's ideas have been anticipated to a certain extent by several critics who have commented on the Christian structure of Measure for Measure,11 but no other critic has developed the background for such an approach as extensively as Coghill. The implications of his research, with one important qualification or addition, provide the interpretive point of departure for this study. Though Coghill's approach is meant to be applicable to the majority of Shakespeare's comedies, we will, of course, be concerned with his material only insofar as it applies to the plays in the problem group. We should note that, so far as this set of plays is concerned, Coghill has applied his theory only to an interpretation of Measure for Measure*8 But, as we shall see, the medieval comic framework and interpretive technique which he explains are also essential to an understanding of All's Well, cast light on Hamlet, and provide an interesting commentary on the structure of Troilus and Cressida. 48 Essays and Studies 1950, ed. G. R. Hamilton, ΠΙ, new series (London, John Murray, 1950), 1-28. 47 See "Measure for Measure and the Gospels", in G. Wilson Knight's The Wheel of Fire (London, Oxford University Press, 1930), pp. 73-96; R. W. Chambers' "The Jacobean Shakespeare and Measure for Measure", in Proceedings of the British Academy, XXIII (London, Oxford University Press, 1937), 135-192; R. W. Battenhouse's "Measure for Measure and the Christian Doctrine of Atonement", PMLA, LXI (December, 1946), 102956; and Ε. M. Pope's "The Renaissance Background of Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 2 (1949), 66-82. 48 "Comic Form in Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), pp. 14-27.

20

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

Though, as Miss Madeleine Doran has pointed out, the hereditary lines of Elizabethan comedy are extremely complex, deriving from such predecessors as the medieval farce, the juggling turn, the comic episode and realistic scene in the mystery and morality plays, the chivalric romance, the saint's legend, Roman comedy, learned and popular Italian comedy, et cetera, it is possible to distinguish two main types of comedy in this period, Jonsonian and Shakespearian, or realistic and romantic.4· Such a division marks the starting point for Coghill's examination of Shakespearian comedy; he finds that the comedies of Jonson stand in direct contrast to Shakespeare's: A harsh ethic in them yokes punishment with derision: foibles are persecuted and vices flayed; the very simpletons are savaged for being what they are, and it is seldom that any but a minor character, if that, gives proof of a nobility or grace of nature. The population of his Comedies in part accounts for this; they are a congeries of cits, parvenus, mountebanks, cozeners, dupes, braggarts, bullies, and bitches. If we are shown virtue in distress, it is the distress and not the virtue that matters. All this is done with an incredible, stupendous force of style.60

Things are quite different in Shakespeare's comic world: Princes and dukes, lords and ladies jostle with merchants, weavers, joiners, country sluts, friendly rogues, schoolmasters and village policemen, hardly one of whom is lacking in, or incapable of, a generous impulse. The very butts can think nobly of the soul and have everything handsome about them. Shakespeare will not punish even a Barnadine.51

Mr. Coghill is on to something which is very compelling here, but perhaps he is too quick to take the ready and easy way to a generalization. It seems important, at any rate, to take exception to the implications of his assertion that "Shakespeare will not punish even a Barnadine". That Barnadine is not punished does not illustrate Coghill's contention, as it seems meant to do, that "the very butts can think nobly of the soul and have every" Madeleine Doran, Endeavors of Art: A Study of Form in Elizabethan Drama (Madison, The University of Wisconsin Press, 1954), p. 148. 50 Nevill Coghill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", p. 1. 51 Ibid.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

21

thing handsome about them" or that scarcely " . . . [one of the characters in his comedies] is lacking in, or incapable of, a generous impulse". For Barnadine notably lacks generous impulses, seems to think very little about the soul, and reveals nothing which we may consider handsome in him.62 That there are Barnadines, Parolleses, Lucios, and Malvolios in Shakespeare's comic world and that the majority of such characters are punished it is important to keep in mind. I make these seemingly quibbling qualifications at the outset in order to prepare the way for a more precise statement of the relationship of Shakespearian comedy to Jonsonian comedy and to be able, with freer breath, to approve what I take to be Coghill's main distinction between these comic worlds: that the idea of mercy governs the one; the idea of a punitive justice the other. Such a difference, Coghill maintains, results from two opposed conceptions of comic form, the sources of which may be found in the works of Evanthius, Diomedes, and Donatus, Latin grammarians of the fourth century A. D. The pertinent generalizations which form the basis for what was later to become a dual conception of comedy were derived inductively from the comedies the grammarians knew.63 Coghill presents the following translations of the important passages: Evanthius . . . As between Tragedy and Comedy, while there are many distinguishing marks, the first is this: in Comedy the characters are men of middle fortune, the dangers they run are neither serious nor pressing, their actions lead to happy conclusions; but in Tragedy things are just the opposite. Then again (be it noted) that in Tragedy 52 Perhaps I distort the implications of Coghill's remark, but he certainly seems inclined to find more to be admired in Barnadine than is warranted. In "Comic Form in Measure for Measure", for example, after noting "the principal strands in the pattern of testing that runs through the play...", Coghill points out that "lesser soundings are made among other characters; Pompey Bum is brought to the admission that his trade of pimp 'does stink in some sort', Barnadine demands more time to prepare himself for death, and gets it, and even Mistress Overdone reveals in herself a natural charity..." (op. cit., p. 21). But notice what the Duke has to say about Barnadine immediately after that convict refuses "to consent to die": "Unfit to live or die: Ο gravel heart!" (IV, iii, 68). 58 Coghill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", pp. 1-2.

22

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

is expressed the idea that life is to be fled from, in Comedy, that it is to be grasped. Lastly that all Comedy is made up of feigned actions, but Tragedy is more often fetched from historical belief. Comedy is divided into four parts, a Prologue, a Protasis, and Epitasis and a Catastrophe; the Prologue is so to speak the preface to a certain s t o r y . . . the Protasis is the first act aind beginning of the drama, the Epitasis is the growth and progress of the confusions and as I might say of the knot of the whole misunderstanding, and the Discovery is the turning round of things to happy issues, made clear to all by a full knowledge of the actions . . . Diomedes . . . Comedy differs from Tragedy in that in Tragedy heroes, generals and kings are introduced, in comedy humble and private people. In the former, grief, exile and slaughter; in the latter, love-affairs and the abduction of maidens. Then in the former there are often and almost invariably sad endings to happy circumstances, and a Discovery of former fortune and family taking an ill turn . . . for sad things are the property of Tragedy... The first comic poets were Susarion, Myllus and Magnes; these offered plots of the old kind, with less skill than charm . . . in the second age were Aristophanes, Eupolis and Cratinus, who pursuing the vices of the principal characters composed very bitter Comedies. The third age was that of Meander, Diphilus and Philemon, who palliated all that bitterness of Comedy and followed all sorts of plots about agreeable mistakes . . . Donatus . . . Comedy is a tale containing various elements of the dispositions of town-dwelling and private people, to whom it is made known what is useful in life and what contrary and to be avoided . . ,54 It is Coghill's view that satiric and romantic, or Jonsonian and Shakespearian, comedy arose from these comments. He makes the following convenient distillation: The Satiric concerns a middle way of life, town-dwellers, humble and private people. It pursues the principal characters with some bitterness for their vices and teaches what is useful and expedient in life, and what is to be avoided. The Romantic expresses the idea that life is to be grasped. It is the opposite of Tragedy in that the catastrophe solves all confusion and misunderM

Ibid., pp. 2-3.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

23

standing, by some happy turn to an agreeable issue. It has great variety of plot which may include a light touch of danger from which there is a happy issue. It commonly includes love-making and the abduction of virgins. Common to both kinds The plots are not historical but imaginary.55 The satirical tradition, at least in theory, was far better known in the renaissance. Almost all of the important English critics Lodge, Puttenham, Sidney, Whetstone, et cetera - believed that punishment is the proper object of comedy.5· Perhaps the best known statement of this conception of comedy is in Sidney's Defence of Poetry. In answering the question, What faults are to be found in the proper use of the various kinds of poetry? Sidney has this to say about the satiric and comic modes: Or the Satirick ... who sportingly, never leaveth, till he make a man laugh at follie; and at length ashamed, to laugh at himself; which he cannot avoyde, without avoyding the follie? . . . No perchance it is the Comick, whom naughtie Play-makers and stage-keepers, have justly made odious. To the arguments of abuse, I will after answer, onely thus much now is to be said, that the Comedy is an imitatio of the cömon errors of our life, which he representeth in the most ridiculous & scornful sort that may be: so as it is impossible that any beholder can be content to be such a one. Now as in Geometrie, the oblique must be knowne as well as the right, and in Arithmetick, the odde as well as the even, so in the actions of our life, who seeth not the filthinesse of evil, wanteth a great foile to perceive the bewtie of vertue. This doth the Comaedie handle so in our private and domesticall matters, as with hearing it, wee get as it were an experience what is to be looked for of a niggardly Demea, of a craftie Davus, of a flattering Gnato, of a vain-glorious Thraso: and not onely to know what effects are to be expected, but to know who be such, by the signifying badge given them by the Comaedient. And little reason hath any man to say, that men learne the evill by seeing it so set out, since as I said before, there is no man living, but by the force truth hath in nature, no sooner seeth these men play their parts, but wisheth them in Pistrinum, although perchance the sack of his owne faults lie so behinde his backe, that he seeth not himselfe to dance the same measure: wherto yet nothing can more open his eies, then 55

Ibid., pp. 3-4. »« Ibid., pp. 7-8.

24

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

to see his owne actions contemptibly set forth. So that the right use of Comadie will I thinke, by n o bodie be b l a m e d . . Thus for Sidney comedy must be didactic, and the punitive framework is a necessary corollary. The dramatized effects of stupid and evil actions teach the importance of wisdom and morality. That Ben Jonson accepted this view of comedy may be shown by the following passage from Every Man Out of His Humour: Mitis: . . . the argument of his Comoedie might haue beene of some other nature, as of a duke to be in loue with a countesse, and that countesse to bee in loue with the dukes sonne, and the sonne to loue the ladies waiting maid: some such crosse wooing, with a clowne to their seruingman, better than to be thus neare and familiarly allied to the time. Cordatus: You say well, but I would faine heare one of these aMiwmne-judgements define once, Quid sit Comoedial if he cannot, let him content himselfe with Ciceros definition (till he haue strength to propose to himselfe a better) who would haue a Comoedie to be Imitatio vitae, Speculum consuetudinis, Imago veritatis; a thing throughout pleasant, and ridiculous, and accommodated to the correction of m a n n e r s . . . (III, vi, 195-209)58 The theory of comedy which the renaissance critics adopt is a result, to a great extent, one may suspect, of the attacks on literature by the Puritan reformers. Puritan hostility to art had a considerable effect on literary criticism in the renaissance, 6 · and the strong moral line which satire implies provides a convenient line of defense for comedy. What happens when this theory is carried to an extreme may be seen in Volpone. That Jonson was fully aware of what he was doing is shown by his Introduction, where he insists that, in making evildoers suffer as a conse«' The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney, ed. Albert Feuillerat, ΙΠ (Cambridge, At the University Press, 1923), pp. 22-23. 58 Ben Jonson, Ed. C. H. Herford and Percy Simpson, m (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1927), p. 515. 5 * See J. W. H. Atkins' account of the inauguration of a new phase of criticism in the renaissance as a result of Puritan attacks on literature (English Literary Criticism: The Renascence, London, Methuen and Co., 1947, pp. 224 ff.).

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

25

quence of their actions, unhappy ending notwithstanding, he is performing the office of a comic poet.80 We should note, however, that Volpone stands alone in the Jonson canon. No other comedy comes so close to the "cruel dialectic of tragedy".81 Even though none of Jonson's other comedies assume such tragic dimensions or have the focus of their denouements so sharply trained on the consequences of vice and folly, the punitive aspect remains the outstanding characteristic of the framework of Jonsonian comedy. It is important to realize that, because it is a more comprehensive framework, Shakespeare's comic structure may absorb this prominent feature of Jonsonian comedy. One example from a play outside the problem group should illustrate this point effectively. Though all of the characters in Twelfth Night who err through self-deception are punished in one way or another - Olivia, for example, is put into the ignominious position of making love to another woman as a punishment, apparently, for her unnatural attempt to retreat from the normal world - Malvolio seems to receive more than he deserves. But only to the modern eye. To the Elizabethan audience the punishment visited upon Malvolio would have seemed strikingly just as well as quite funny. For he has dared to dream of upsetting the standards of a social order which had been ordained by God. His desire to marry eo "And though my catastrophe may, in the strict rigour of comic law, meet with censure, as turning back to my promise; I desire the learned and charitable critic, to have so much faith in me, to think it was done of industry: for with what ease I could have varied it nearer his scale (but that I fear to boast my own faculty) I could here insert. But my special aim being to put the snaffle in their mouths, that cry out, We never punish vice in our interludes, &c. I took the more liberty: though not without some lines of example, drawn even in the ancients themselves, the goings out of whose comedies are not always joyful, but oft times the bawds, the servants, the rivals, yea, and the masters are mulcted; and fitly, it being the office of a comic poet to imitate justice, and instruct to life, as well as purity of language, or stir up gentle affections..." (taken from English Drama: 1580-1642, ed. C. F. T. Brooke and Ν. B. Paradise, N. Y„ D. C. Heath & Co., 1933, p. 480). M I borrow the phrase from Alvin Kernan's The Cankered Muse: Satire of the English Renaissance (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1959), p. 34.

26

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

Viola the Elizabethans would consider unnatural, a product of a self-love that blinded him to his proper position in the scheme of things, the implication being that the pompous steward, by nursing such outlaw notions, failed to accept God's construction of the universe. Note Maria's comment on her forged letter, the bait that hooked the presumptuous servant: If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is n o Christian that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. (Ill, ii, 72-77)°*

That Malvolio is, in this sense, a heathen and renegade is obvious; he certainly does, because of the sickness of self-love, believe that his mistress is in love with him. And not merely because of the letter, for he has suspected all along that Olivia had eyes for him.®3 The absolute logic of his punishment becomes apparent in the action of the play. Infected with pride, Mavolio is guilty of misinterpretation; as a result he is misinterpreted himself - honestly by Olivia, who becomes convinced that he is indeed insane, and deliberately by Maria, Toby, Feste, and Fabian, who are aware of the true nature of his madness. And for the majority of Shakespeare's contemporaries the type of error Malvolio was subject to was indeed a form of madness. Not to recognize the nature of things, not to acknowledge the absolute wisdom of God in the ordering of the universe — this was the very stuff of insanity 62

All quotations from Shakespeare are by line to the text as printed in Hardin Craig's edition of The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Chicago, Scott, Foresman and Co., 1951). 63 Shortly before Malvolio discovers the letter, he says: " 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?" (Π, v, 28-33)

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

27

and evil. Significantly, Shakespeare makes use of an analogy to point up the implications of such pride. Pretending to be sincerely concerned, Toby and Maria remonstrate with Malvolio, urging him to throw off the madness which is induced by the devil, the archetypal figure of intellectual and moral chaos.94 "Which way is he in the name of sanctity?' cries Toby. "If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him" (III, IV, 94-96). And Fabian responds with mock solicitude, 'Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?" (Ill, iv, 97-98). To which Malvolio, with an aristocratic disdain puffed by his unhealthy dream, replies: "Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go off" (III, iv, 99-100). Again and again in this scene the devil motif and reciprocal mistinterpretation pattern occur: " . . . What, man!" admonishes Toby, "defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind" (III, iv, 108-109). Genuinely bewildered, Malvolio asks, "Do you know what you say?" (Ill, iv. 110). Only to have Maria observe, "La you, and you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart!" (Ill, iv, 111-112). An appropriate final punishment is then devised for Malvolio. Since he is possessed by the devil - and since in his sin of selfpresumption, he has, like Satan, attempted to step out of the proper order of things, thereby challenging the authority of God - he, like Satan, is to be consigned to darkness.65 Toby says: 64

C. S. Lewis' penetrating comments on the character of Milton's Satan provide an interesting corollary to the interpretation suggested here. Though Milton, he says, has chosen to subordinate the absurdity of Satan's position to the misery which he undergoes and perpetrates, anyone who fully understands the mind of Milton (or, one might add, the mind of the renaissance) will realize that Paradise Lost could have been a comic poem. For "We know from his prose works that he believed everything detestable to be, in the long run, also ridiculous; and mere Christianity commits every Christian to believing that 'the Devil is (in the long run) an ass.' " (A Preface to Paradise Lost, London, Oxford University Press, 1954, p. 93). 65 The allusions to the devil and the motif of misinterpretation also play a prominent part in Scene Two of Act Four, lines 14 ff. The Clown, masquerading as "Sir Topas the curate", comes to visit "Malvolio the lunatic", who, completely taken in by the Clown's disguised voice, pleads for help, The following passages support the interpretation presented and show, I

28

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. (Ill, iv, 148-154) Once Malvolio's unwilling penance has been carried out, he becomes eligible for mercy.6" And though the disgruntled steward leaves the stage in a huff at the conclusion of the play, there is at least the implication of reconciliation given when the Duke says, "Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace . .." (V, i, 389). No such possibility of reconciliation, no motif of mercy, governs Jonson's comic world. The "whirligig of time brings in his revenges" — but nothing more. This qualification having been made, then - that Shakespeare's comic framework may include the Jonsonian comic structure - let us trace the background of the larger conception of comedy. Like Jonson's comic framework, it may be traced, if Coghill's assumptions are valid, to the generalizations of the think, that Malvolio's punishment is meant to call to the Elizabethan mind the far grimmer punishment of a being who had also aspired unnaturally and who, because his sin was far greater than any human being's sin could be, did not receive mercy: Mai.: Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. Clo.: Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man! talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To.: Well said, master Parson. Mal.: Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clo.: Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark? Mal.: As hell, Sir Topas. Clo.: Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. Mal.: I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you a r e . . . (IV, 11, 28-39, 46-50). 66 It should be noted that Sir Toby, who sets himself up as judge or priest in this case, is not, to say the least, without blemish himself. He is, in a sense, a comic scourge of God, and his own errors of conduct do not go unpunished.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

29

fourth century grammarians. Between the fourth and twelfth centuries, however, there are apparently no significant references to comic form. But in the thirteenth century, Vincent de Beauvais had this to say about comedy: that it was "a poem changing a sad beginning into a happy ending".87 Coghill suggests that the general contrast made by Evanthius and Diomedes between comedy and tragedy was sharpened by the logical mind of the middle ages. Boethius had defined tragedy as the fall from a flourishing prosperity to a miserable end through the agency of fortune.68 Comedy, then, should be the converse, "a story that started in sorrow and danger and, by a happy turn of fortune, ended in felicity. It was a tale of trouble that turned to joy".·» This formula, according to Coghill, provides the basis of Shakespearian comedy. But it is not quite as simple as it looks. It was considered to indicate not merely the shape of comic form; it was also believed to express the shape of ultimate reality.70 Which is to say, "Comic form was cosmic form".71 It was Dante who thus enlarged the literary formula of the grammarians into cosmic significance and, conceiving the story of the universe in this fashion, entitled his greatest philosophical and poetic work The Divine Comedy.™ «' Coghill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", p. 4. Cf. Sir Edmund Chambers' The Medieval Stage, II (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1903), p. 209 n. «β Ibid. Cf. De Consolatione, Π, Prose 2. ·· Ibid. Coghill quotes two literary statements of this formula. One comes from Chaucer, whose Knight finds the Monk's rehearsal of tragedies tiring: I seye for me, it is a greet disese Wher-as men han ben in greet welthe and ese, To heren of hir sodeyn fal, alias! And the contrarie is loye and greet solas. As whan a man hath been in povre estaat And clymbeth up, and wexeth fortunat, And there abydeth in prosperitee, Swich thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me. The other comes from Lydgate: A Comedy hath in his gynnynge, A pryme face a maner complaynynge, and afterwarde endeth in gladnesse. (Chron. Troy, Π, xi) '« Ibid. 71 Coghill, "Comic Form in Measure for Measure", p. 18. 71 Coghill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", pp. 5, 6.

30

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

A detailed explanation of the way in which his comedy should be understood is contained in the dedication to Can Grande. Two passages are of special interest, one dealing with the matter of form and the other with interpretation by levels. In explaining his conception of form, Dante, says Coghill, "transforms the simple formula of Vincent de Beauvais into a true and total picture of ultimate reality".73 The title of the book is: "Here begins the Comedy of Dante Alighiere a Florentine by nation, not by manners." As a note to which it should be known that the word Comedy derives from comes, a village, and oda, a song, whence Comedy, a sort of rustic song. Comedy is moreover a kind of poetical narrative, differing from all others. It differs therefore from Tragedy in its matter thus, that Tragedy is calm and noble to start with, but in its ending or outcome stinking and terrifying (Joetida et horribilis); and it is named for that reason after tragos, that is, a goat, and oda, a goatish song, so to speak; that is, it stinks like a goat, as appears by Seneca in his Tragedies. Comedy on the other hand begins with the harshness of some affair (asperitatem alicuius rei) but its matter ends happily (prospere) as appears by Terence and his Comedies . . . similarly it differs in its manner of speech; Tragedy, lofty and sublime; Comedy negligent and humble . . . and hence it appears that the present work terrifying to begin with, being Infernus; in the end it is happy, pleasing and to be desired (prospera, desiderabilis et grata), being Paradisus,74 Dante also explains how his work is to be interpreted: Be it known that the meaning of this work is not single (simplex), indeed it can be called polysemos, that is of several meanings; for there is first the meaning to be had from the letter. And the first is called the literal (meaning); the second, however, is called the allegorical, or the moral, or the anagogical. This method of analysis, that it may seem the clearer, may be considered in these verses: "In exitu Israel de Aegypto, domus Iacob de populo barbaro, facta est ludaea sanctificatio eius, Israel potestas eius." Now if we only look at the letter, the meaning to us is the exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, at the time of Moses; if to the allegory, the meaning to us is our redemption made through Christ; if to the moral meaning, there is signified the conversion of the soul from the 74

Ibid. Ibid., p. 5 (Coghill's translation).

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

31

grief and misery of sin into a state of grace; if to the anagogical, the departure of the holy soul from this servitude of corruption into the liberation (libertatem) of eternal glory. And although these mystical senses are called by various names, they can all be generally called allegorical, since they differ from the literal or historical. In view of these things it is clear that the subject should be double 0duplex) round which should flow alternate meanings.75 Dante, then, Coghill says, conceiving comedy to be the reflection of ultimate reality, used the comic framework to enclose his imaginative investigation of "the state of the soul after death". Such an application, Coghill states, "may be extended to include life on earth; there was trouble in Eden, the knot was untied on Calvary, there is bliss in Heaven". 7 · By this definition the course of a human life well-lived is a comedy. And this philosophical pattern may be woven into a story which remains on the level of this world, for any human harmony which succeeds distress can suggest a higher reality. The implication is that "the harmonious is the normal, the attainable, that heaviness may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning".77 Unlike the Jonsonian view of comedy, which stops at the Day of Judgment, the medieval view of comedy directs us to the Beatific Vision. The one offers justice; the other, mercy and forgiveness. At the core of the latter vision is a belief in a love which binds the world together in harmony. And this explains why, Coghill maintains, almost all of Shakespeare's comedies are built around a love story or a group of love stories. His first full expression of this vision is found in A Midsummer Night's Dream, which pictures a world with no ill-will. The fact that later Shakespeare stretched his comedies to include evil and sorrow shows how strong his belief in the essential harmony of life was.78 To pinpoint the source of Shakespeare's knowledge of this « Ibid., p. 6. 78 Coghill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", p. 13. 77 Ibid., pp. 12-13. 78 Ibid., p. 13. Coghill also observes that one extreme example of vision and power is Measure for Measure. As we have already noted, play is the only one in the problem group which he has examined in light of his explanation of Shakespearian comedy. We shall refer to interpretation in a later chapter.

this this the his

32

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

traditional belief, since it was so closely wound into the intellectual and emotional atmosphere of the Elizabethan age, is unnecessary, Coghill believes. He does not suggest that Shakespeare read either the Epistle to Can Grande or the Convivio (which also contains a statement about the principles of Dante's concept of comedy), but he does believe that it is reasonable to assume that an era which produced a work like The Faerie Queene was more at home in allegory than we are: It was an age that found no difficulty in accepting The Song of Songs as a figure of the love of Christ for His Church, and the act of holy matrimony as a signification of that same love. Thinking in allegory is to us an unaccustomed habit of mind, but to those in a medieval tradition, second nature.7'

In recent years, Coghill goes on to say, there has been a great deal of attention devoted to the imagery of Shakespeare, but for the most part this attention has been directed "to the study of the detail of poetry; that a narrative itself, taken as a whole, may be an image is an idea that has received too little attention".80 And certain of Shakespeare's plays invite such an allegorial interpretation. By allegorical, however, he does not mean that "the characters are abstractions representing this or that vice or virtue (as they do in some allegories, say The Roman de la Rose or The Castle of Perseverance itself) . . . " but that "they contain and adumbrate certain principles, not in a crude or neat form, but mixed with other human qualities..." and "that these principles taken as operating in human life, do in fact give shape and direction to the course, and therefore to the meaning, of the play".81 We have surveyed in detail what I have taken to be the three main stages in the critical history of the problem plays, and we have discussed critically a theory which may supply the basis for a fourth critical stage. Let us now try to pull the threads together. '» Ibid., p. 17. Ibid. « Ibid., p. 21.

80

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

33

Lawrence's measured judgments, based on his study of medieval analogues to the core plots of the "problem comedies", have displaced Dowden's impressionistic biographical guesswork as the standard background approach to the plays. The critical position Lawrence's findings have occupied since the publication of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies may be compared, generally speaking, to the position Dowden's observations held prior to 1930.82 Tillyard's conclusions have also been influential. His work is significant not only because it is a full-scale attempt at evaluating these plays as works of art but also because it is based implicitly on the foundation provided by Lawrence and, in addition, reveals a partial understanding of the importance of the medieval Christian element in the problem group. Since the implications of Coghill's article have not been utilized for a fulllength study of the structure and meaning of this group of plays, the "fourth stage" in the critical history of the group may be regarded as embryonic.83 The present study is meant to further

82 Though the School of Darkness has been scattered thin by Lawrence's research, it has not yet faded into oblivion. J. Dover Wilson's appraisal of Shakespeare's dramatic work from 1601-1608, for example, leads him to the conclusion "that, for whatever cause, Shakespeare was subject at this time to a dominant mood of gloom and dejection, which on one occasion at least brought him to the edge of madness" (The Essential Shakespeare, Cambridge, University Press, 1933, p. 115). All's Well, Troilus, and Measure for Measure he calls "bitter comedies": "The note of them all is disillusionment and cynicism, the air is cheerless and often unwholesome, the wit mirthless, the bad characters contemptible or detestable, the good ones unattractive" (p. 116). Donald Stauffer, whose work comes much later, also adopts the biographical approach. Hamlet, All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus, he believes, reflect a period of personal agony in Shakespeare's life. The laughter in the three comedies, he says, is sarcastic (Shakespeare's World of Images: The Development of His Moral Ideas, New York, W. W. Norton & Co., 1949, pp. 116-117). Another modern biographical interpreter is Ivor Brown (Shakespeare, London, Collins, 1949), whose observations read almost like a parody of Dowden's views: "The earth which had been so fair a frame for meadows painted with delight became a pestilent congregation of vapors.— So we pass from the Fourth Age of High-Fantastical to the Fifth Age, that of Bitter Comedy." (p. 165) 83 At least one recent survey work, however, has made good use of Coghill's research. M. D. H. Parker's The Slave of Life: A Study of Shakespeare and the Idea of Justice (London, Chatto and Windus, 1955), which

34

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

this stage of development. It should have somewhat the same relationship to Coghill's study that Tillyard's work has to Lawrence's. Dowden's biographical speculations were based primarily, it seems, on his conclusion that the darkness in this group of plays is unrelieved by the suggestion of a metaphysical framework. Lawrence's source work led him to repudiate the suggestion of darkness or bitterness, but he decided that the depth of seriousness in the plays marred the bloom of comedy. Like Dowden, he believed these plays to be failures because they were too close to the tragic mode. The weaknesses in them, which are a result of this creative miscarriage on the part of Shakespeare, are not, however, to be attributed to a dark-night-of-the-soul period in Shakespeare's life but rather to an attempt to drift with the tide of popular interest, which led him to work with material uncongenial to his art. What we may call Tillyard's minor generalizations,84 the details certain of the plays have in common, are, for our purposes, unimportant. His major generalizations, however, we should keep in mind - that the plays, and he is including Hamlet, are invested with abstract speculations which are not completely absorbed into the action; and that Shakespeare's apparent preoccupation during this period with the spectacle of human nature left him content merely to record his observations without subordinating them to a supreme theme. Thus he sees Troilus and Hamlet as dramas which because of their focus on problem situations, lack a meaningfully constructed framework; and All's Well and Measure for Measure as dramas in which Shakespeare's creative imagination, for some reason or other, touches on the entire range of the Shakespeare canon, has for its controlling idea - so far as the interpretations of the plays are concerned - the belief that theology was significant to Shakespeare, that "It was an analogy in which his mind constantly worked" (p. 50). Though Professor Parker makes no comments about the problem plays as such, one chapter of The Slave of Life is devoted to a discussion of Hamlet, All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Troilus and Cressida from a point of view similar to that which we shall employ. These plays, Professor Parker says, are studies in corruption and salvation. 84 Supra, p. 17.

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

35

86

had been short-circuited. These conclusions of Dowden's, Lawrence's, and Tillyard's we shall test after we have examined the plays in the light of Nevill Coghill's conclusions about the nature of Shakespearian comedy. The relation of the medieval religious background to the structures of this group of plays, as we have already remarked, provides the most important basis for the interpretations to be found in later chapters. The philosophical and theological significance of the Dantean view of comedy I believe to be the most important general knowledge necessary for an understanding of the form and meaning of the problem plays. This Christian background was denied by Dowden; it was overlooked by Lawrence, who, it is only fair to note, was off on another tack; and it has been sketchily or incompletely employed by Tillyard. Coghill's main conclusion, then - that the great cosmic Christian pattern of distress through sin and redemption by the grace of God is mirrored in the framework of Shakespearian comedy - will direct our approach to these plays.89 As a group, however, 85 Though D. A. Traversi's discussions of the problem plays are more esoteric than Tillyard's, his generalizations seem to follow the Tillyard line. The plays, he says, are obscure in intention. Each is an attempt to impose an order on a dramatic world which is full of contradictions; not one, however, succeeds in attaining over a very small portion of such an order (An Approach to Shakespeare, Garden City, Doubleday and Co., 1956, pp. 61-62). 86 A critic whose ideas on the basis of Shakespearian comedy are in sharp contrast to those of Coghill is Northrup Frye ("The Argument of Comedy", English Institute Essays: 1948, ed. D. A. Robertson, Jr., New York, Columbia University Press, 1949), who believes that the structure of Shakespeare's comedies comes from the drama of folk ritual, those pagan rites which became part of the Christian celebrations. This framework he calls the "drama" of the green world" and says that its theme is "the triumph of life over the waste land, the death and revival of the year impersonated by figures still human, and once divine as well" (p. 67). Moreover, this pattern does not fall within the "Christian conception of commedia" (p. 66). How then, one might ask, do we account for the Christian allusions in a comedy like Twelfth Night? If, as Frye says, "In the comedies, the green world suggests an original golden age which the normal world has usurped and which makes us wonder if it is not the normal world that is the real Saturnalia" (pp. 71-72), must we ignore the Christian implications of the punishment of Malvolio and see that pompous character only as a guardian of abnormal social restrictions who is punished by a

36

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

they do not fit neatly together. Hamlet, for example, is a tragedy; nevertheless a knowledge of the medieval comic framework will prove important to an understanding of its structure and meaning. Troilus, which I take to be a tragedy also, provides special problems best examined in the chapter on that play. The medieval Christian background has much less bearing on its meaning than on the meanings of the other three plays. But All's Well and Measure for Measure, we may say categorically, must be interpreted in the light of Dante's concept of comedy to be understood and appreciated. One qualification, however, has been made to Coghill's generalizations about Shakespeare's comedies: This is that, though the idea of mercy, of a benevolent providence, governs the framework of Shakespearian comedy, retributive justice, which has been associated with Jonsonian comedy, may be contained within the Shakespearian structure. One example outside the problem group has been presented to support this assertion; and the chapters on All's Well and Measure for Measure will further attest to the validity of this qualification. Finally, though we do not wish to suggest that Shakespeare kind of resurgent life force and who is associated quite accidentally or capriciously with the archetypal foe of humanity? This is, however, not the place to quarrel with a theory of such scope; we must content ourselves with the observation that, though Christian elements cannot be absorbed logically into a pagan framework, pagan allusions can be incorporated into the broader intellectual structure that Christianity provides. What we may concern ourselves with directly is the brief passage which Frye devotes to the problem comedies. He observes that the green world "is absent from the so-called problem comedies, which is one of the things that make them problem comedies" (p. 68). Yet, peculiarly enough, he does associate this pattern in All's Well not only with the "resurrection" of Helena but also with the healing of the king (p. 69). To make such an association without recognizing the Christian allusions which surround these events is, as we shall see, to miss much of the meaning of the play. Murray Krieger also refuses to acknowledge the significance of the Christian allusions in All's Well and Measure for Measure. In an article entitled "Measure for Measure and Elizabethan Comedy" he distinguishes two types of Elizabethan comedy: (1) the neo-classical Jonsonian comedy, which necessitates consistency of characterization, and (2) the pastoral romantic comedy, which is based on a fanciful plot. The "dark comedies" fail, he says, because Shakespeare attempted to fuse these two incompatible patterns (PMLA, LXVI, Sept., 1951, 775-784).

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

37

was consciously employing, in certain of his plays, a structure similar to that which Dante used in the Divine Comedy, it might be well to attempt to indicate more precisely than Coghill has in what way a particular type of Shakespeare drama may be compared to the Comedy. If we find that the form of a Shakespeare play reflects the medieval conception of man's position in this world and his relationship to the next world, then we will be able to point out what elements in its structure parallel elements in the structure of Dante's famous poem. Our journey toward such a point of comparison must, of necessity, be somewhat circuitous; for the relationship we are attempting to establish is not a personal or literary one - it is historical or philosophical. Though Shakespeare and Dante were separated by a long period of time, their eras are united by a common belief in a merciful God whose absolute rationality was reflected in every aspect of creation. This is not to say, of course, that the Elizabethan period was in no way philosophically different from the middle ages; for the renaissance stands on the threshold of the modern world. But the old ties were not yet dissolved, even though the skeptical and inquiring spirits of such men as Montaigne and Machiavelli were exploring a new universe of ideas. For a time the resulting tension only strengthened the old order. In order to accomplish our purpose we shall first have to explain the way medieval theology and allegory function in the Divine Comedy. Then, though we may approve Coghill's observation that it is unnecessary to point specifically to the source of Shakespeare's knowledge of the medieval Christian concept of the universe, since it was so much a part of his age, we should indicate how this great conception became a part of Shakespeare's dramatic inheritance. To do so we will trace briefly the transition of the drama of salvation from the altar of the Church to the secular stage. This part of our study will conclude with an examination of the English form of the mystery cycle and morality play. We will then be in a position to determine what elements these dramatic art forms have in common with Dante's great work. This will be the aim of the next chapter. Having determined the structural similarities of the Comedy

38

MAJOR CRITICAL APPROACHES

and the English mystery cycle and morality play, we will be ready to undertake separate analyses of the problem plays in four succeeding chapters in order to see to what extent their structures are controlled by patterns derived from the mystery cycle and/or the morality play. In a concluding chapter we should be able to decide which of the problem plays are similar in structure to the Divine Comedy; then we may test, at last, the views of Dowden, Lawrence, and Tillyard against our findings.

Π. THE DIVINE COMEDY, THE MORALITY PLAY, THE MYSTERY CYCLE

Our purpose in this chapter is to establish a parallel between the structure of Dante's Comedy and the patterns of those native dramatic forms which had a significant influence on Shakespeare, the mystery cycle and the morality play. Before explaining the nature of the parallel, of course, we must analyze the art forms in question. We shall start with Dante's poem. Anyone who wishes to interpret the Divine Comedy should begin by studying what Dante himself had to say about its form and meaning. His explanation, which is found in the famous letter to Can Grande, is a product of the fusion of a literary formula - a comedy begins in adversity and ends in prosperity - and a part of a great theological concept - postlapsarian man is conceived in sin but may, by the grace of God, achieve salvation. Also connected with this structure is the four-fold method of interpretation which Dante suggests as a key to the full understanding of the significance of his work. The literary line of Dante's critical theory has been fairly well explored;1 the theological and allegorical backgrounds, however, deserve further attention. We might well begin with the four levels of interpretation. Dante first suggested the four-fold method of interpretation in the Convivio, where he explained the significance of the literal, allegorical, moral, and anagogical senses of exegesis and called attention to a distinction between the "allegory of the poets" and the "allegory of the theologians". In explaining the technique employed in the Convivio, Dante illustrates the first two 1

Supra, pp. 21-23.

40

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

levels of interpretation, the literal and allegorical, by interpreting a fable. Orpheus, according to Ovid, could tame wild beasts and cause rocks and trees to approach him by playing the lyre. The meaning of this beautiful fiction, according to Dante, is that the wise man, through the power of his voice, can soften cruel hearts and sway to his will those who have not been trained in the rational life. Thus, Dante says, on the allegorical level in the Convivio, he follows the technique of the poets; the theologians take this sense in another way.2 The main distinction between the two types of allegory is obvious. The theologians of Dante's time, working from Scripture, would, in their interpretations of various passages, naturally insist on the historicity of the literal level; whereas, in poetical allegory, only the metaphorical meaning is true - the literal level is imaginative, not true. Most commentators, on the basis of this distinction, have called Dante's allegory in the Convivio poetical allegory. To a certain extent, this is valid; for most of the allegory in the Convivio operates on only two levels, one of which is fictive. The fact that Dante attempted to employ four levels of interpretation in the Convivio, however, seems to me to complicate the picture somewhat. Before we can understand this complication, we must explore very briefly the roots of theological and poetical allegory. In poetical allegory, which is synonymous with Greek or PhiIonic allegory, there are only two levels of interpretation, the literal and the figurative, the first of which is, as we have already remarked, false and the second of which is true. This kind of interpretation stems from those Greek philosophers who read their own doctrines into the works of Hesiod and Homer,8 and it was adopted by various Jewish thinkers of Alexandria who sought to make their religion philosophically attractive to the Greeks.4 2 Dante Alighieri, The Convivio of Dante Alighieri, trans, by Philip H. Wicksteed (Temple Classics) (London, J. M. Dent & Sons, 1924), pp. 63-64. 3 Johan Chydenius, The Typological Problem in Dante: A Study in the History of Medieval Ideas (Helsingfors, 1959), pp. 22-23. 4 Frank W. Tilden, Philo Judaeus, On the Contemplative Life (= Indiana University Studies, Vol. IX, no. 52) (Bloomington, 1922), p. 27.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

41

The most influential of these Jewish allegorizers was Philo Judaeus, a contemporary of Christ, who, though he found the Greek heritage appealing, did not wish to abandon his native faith. By means of allegory, Philo interpreted the Hebraic scriptures so as to reveal Greek philosophical doctrines hidden under a fictive veil. Commenting, for example, on the description of the unhappy event which took place in the Garden of Eden, Philo, who believed that Genesis was written by Moses, observes that the description is: . . . intended symbolically rather than literally; for never yet have trees of life or of understanding appeared on earth, nor is it likely that they will appear hereafter. No, Moses evidently signifies by the pleasaunce the ruling power of the soul which is full of countless opinions, as it might be of plants; and by the tree of life he signifies reverence toward God, the greatest of the virtues, by means of which the soul attains to immortality; while by the tree that is cognisant of good and evil things he signifies moral prudence, the virtue that occupies the middle position, and enables us to distinguish things by nature contrary the one to the other.®

These standards having been set up in the soul, Philo continues, God, like a judge, watched its progress; and seeing it incline to evil, he cast it forth from the "pleasaunce". Moses' account of Eve's seduction by the serpent, the subsequent defection of Adam, and their expulsion from the garden 'are no mythical fictions, such as poets and sophists delight in, but modes of making ideas visible, bidding us resort to allegorical interpretation guided in our renderings by what lies beneath the surface".® Eve, Philo explains, represents the senses and Adam the mind. For "pleasure encounters and holds parley with the senses first, and through them cheats with her quackeries the sovereign mind itself".7 This story Philo sees as an allegory of the soul, an allegory which possesses universal significance. Eve, the senses, was se5

Philo Judaeus, "On the Account of the World's Creation Given by Moses", Philo, trans, by F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker ( = Loeb Clasical Library, vol. I) (London, William Heinemann, 1949), p. 123. • Ibid., p. 125. 7 Ibid., p. 131.

42

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

duced by pleasure. Adam, as mind, was led astray by Eve. Thus reason is forthwith ensnared and becomes a subject instead of a ruler, a slave instead of a master... Pleasure, being a courtesan and a wanton, eagerly desires to meet with a lover, and searches for panders, by whose means she shall get one on her hook. It is the senses that act as panders for her and procure the lover. When she has ensnared these she easily brings the Mind under her control.8 Though Philo was not the first of the Alexandrian Jews to make use of poetical allegory, he is the most important: it was through him that this kind of allegory became for a time a part of Christian exegesis.® Before we go any further into Greek or Philonic allegory, let us look at the origin and development of the allegory of the theologians.10 Perhaps the most important characteristic of this kind of allegory, aside from the historicity of the literal level, is that it is typological; i.e., past events and characters are seen as representations or types of future events and characters. This kind of interpretation may be traced to the prophets of the Old Testament who, because of the glory of their historic past, looked forward to a future which would at once restore such a glory and accomplish God's work of salvation. The past, that is to say, offered a promise of the fulfilment which the future was to bring. Thus Jeremiah prophesies a New Covenant which is to 8 Ibid.

9 Cf. R. P. C. Hanson, Allegory and Event: A Study of the Sources and Significance of Origen's Interpretation of Scripture (Richmond, John Knox Press, 1959), p. 53: "The heirs of Philo's system . . . were the theologians of the Christian Church." See also Jean Danielou, From Shadows to Reality: Studies in the Biblical Typology of the Fathers, trans, by Dom Wulstan Hibberd (London, Burns & Oates, 1960), p. 61. Philo's allegory, says Danielou, was adopted into Christian theology during the Middle Ages. He contends, however, that "allegory is not a sense of Scripture at all: it is the presentation of philosophy and Christian morality under Biblical imagery analogous to the Stoic presentation of morality in a Homeric dress". 10 In this unfamiliar area I am happy to acknowledge my indebtedness to Johan Chydenius' summary of the history of typology in The Typological Problem in Dante: A Study in the History of Medieval Ideas {op. cit., pp. 11-44). This part of Chydenius' study, as he notes in his Preface, is based on the prevailing opinions of modern scholars.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

43

replace the Old Covenant and round out God's design for salvation:11 Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant which I made with their fathers when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant which they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it upon their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each man teach his neighbor and each his brother saying, 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more. (Jeremiah, 31:31-34, R.S.V.)

In the Apocryphal Scriptures, which were written between the recording of the Old and New Testaments, the fulfilment of the promises was assigned to a definite eschatological era. In the Book of Enoch, for example, "the thought is expressed that the eschatological era is to be ushered in by a new creation which imitates and replaces the first. At the Final Judgment to come, then, the pattern of the making of the Old Covenant will be repeated in that the Lord will again appear on Mount Sinai." 12 The idea of past events as prophecies of future events found in the Canonical and Apocryphal Scriptures, according to Johan Chydenius, provides the source for the full development of typology which took place in the New Testament.13 New Testament typology is centered on the person of Christ. The New Testament writers found in His life the fulfilment of passages in the Old Testament which had been considered prophecies of the Messiah. Matthew, for example, records Jesus' account of His relation to Jonah as follows: Then some of the scribes and Pharisees said to him, "Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you." But he answered them, "An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign; but no sign shall be given to " Ibid., pp. 11, 13. Ibid., p. 13. » Ibid.

44

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, so will the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. The men of Nineveh will arise at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here." (Matthew, 12 : 38-41, R.S.V.)

Here, as Chydenius observes, "Jesus takes the person of the Old Testament prophet as a promise which he himself fulfils, and as a pattern which he excels . . .".14 The New Testament writer whose typology most influenced the Church Fathers and who, therefore, is of chief importance to us is St. Paul. Paul sees Christ fulfilling the prophecies of the Old Testament in various ways. Adam, he asserts, was a type of Christ: Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sins were not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come. (Romans, 5 : 14, R.S.V.)

And he writes in the Epistle to the Colossians that the ceremonies of the Old Covenant foreshadowed the coming of Christ:15 Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a sabbath. These are only a shadow of what is to come; but the substance belongs to Christ. (Colossians, 2:16-17, R.S.V.)

This kind of typology differs from that found in the Apocrypha where fulfilment of the prophecies of the past was assigned to an eschatological period in the future; this fulfilment, according to Paul and the other writers of the New Testament, was a present reality as a result of the coming of Christ. Though Christ does fulfill these Old Testament prophecies, however, there is at the same time, as Chydenius explains, "a hidden reality which is not to be revealed before the end of time. So the Old Testament types, beyond their fulfilment in the New Testament, have a further bearing on eschatological matters. This bearing does not conflict with the first but completes it." 16 »4 Ibid., p. 14.

15

Ibid., pp. 15-16.

" Ibid., p. 20.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

45

It appears, then, that the coming of Christ fulfills the promises of the Old Testament and at the same time points toward another, eschatological fulfilment, which is to be accomplished by the Second Coming. Eschatological typology is, for example, certainly implicit in the following passage from Galations: For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by a slave and one by a free woman. But the son of the slave was born according to the flesh, the son of the free woman through promise. Now this is an allegory: these women are two covenants. One is from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery; she corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother. (Galations, 4 : 2 2 - 2 6 , R.S.V.) Here, according to Chydenius, Paul "adopts the idea of the Apocrypha that the present Jerusalem was to be superseded by a future New Jerusalem". 17 To see the development of Apocryphal eschatological typology and also the completion of what is implicit in Paul's Christological typology, it seems to me, one might well examine the following passages from Revelations: Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth has passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband; and I heard a great voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away." And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and on them the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. (Revelations, 21 : 1-5, 14, R.S.V.) Still another kind of scriptural interpretation is found in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, where Paul probes the significance of Moses' injunction against muzzling an ox while it is treading out grain. This law, which originally had to do with the " Ibid.

46

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

farming of the Israelites, is, according to Paul, a direction to the Christians to share their material benefits with the Apostles: For it is written in the law of Moses, "You shall not muzzle an ox when it is treading out the grain." Is it for oxen that God is concerned? Does he not speak entirely for our sake? It was written for our sake, because the plowman should plow in hope and the thresher thresh in hope of a share in the crop. If we have sown spiritual good among you, is it too much if we reap your material benefits? (1 Corinthians, 9 : 9 - 1 1 )

"To designate such an interpretation", Chydenius states, "Paul uses no particular term, but the interpretation of the Law as containing moral precepts for the life of the Christians may be taken as a special form of the interpretation of Old Testament events as types of New Testament events." 18 New Testament typology, then, develops from and amplifies Old Testament typology. In the typological interpretations of the New Testament writers, and particularly in Paul, we have the basis for what was to become the allegory of the theologians. But we cannot continue our investigation of the allegory of the theologians without reference to the allegory of the poets; for these two branches of allegory meet in the exegetical works of the Alexandrian Church Fathers. Probably as a result of the influence of Philo, Christian theologians in Alexandria set themselves to the task of distinguishing systematically the various significations that were to be found in Scripture. Clement of Alexandria was the first to attempt to outline a scheme of the scriptural senses. In one important passage in the Stromata, Clement notes two different senses of Scripture: the body, or literal sense; and the soul, or inner meaning. In another section of this work he "divides the non-literal sense into three different kinds, saying that the Law either exhibits a sign, lays down a precept for right conduct, or predicts the future like a prophecy.. .".1β A more systematic method and a more precise terminology may be found in the work of Origen, who, in De principis, out18

18

Ibid., p. 19.

Ibid., pp. 25-26.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

47

lines three senses of Scriptural interpretation based on the threefold division of man into body, soul, and spirit. The body of Scripture is, of course, the literal sense; the psychical sense is what later corresponds to the moral sense (as an illustration, Origen refers to St. Paul's interpretation of the threshing ox); and the spiritual sense corresponds to what later becomes the allegorical sense (to illustrate this level of interpretation, Origen cites most of the passages of Paul's which interpret Old Testament events in a Christological sense).20 The only sense lacking here is the anagogical, which, as we have noted, seems to have been bound up with the Christological sense in the New Testament view. It is interesting to observe that all three separate spiritual senses seem to be indicated in another part of Origen's work. In the homily on Psalm 36, as Chydenius points out, Origen "says that God at times teaches us ineffable mysteries, at times he instructs us concerning the saviour and his coming, but occasionally indeed he corrects and improves our morals . . .".21 If, as Chydenius suggests, the reference to ineffable mysteries corresponds to the anagogical sense of interpretation, we may say that Origen has distinguished the four levels of interpretation that were to become standard by the time of Dante. In one respect, however, Origen's exegesis is sharply divergent from that of the theologians of Dante's era. Apparently because of the influence of Philonic allegory, Origen does not insist upon the historicity of the literal level of interpretation. Chydenius is thus led to this conclusion: Essentially the scriptural interpretation of the School of Alexandria was the same allegorical method that had been used by the Stoics and Philo. The immediate sense of the words lacked any value of its own and only served as a means of expressing the spiritual matter which the author wished to present. The insignificance of the immediate sense is observed from the fact that it could easily be abandoned whenever it contained something which was thought to be unworthy of the authorship of God." M

Ibid., pp. 26-27. » Ibid., p. 27. 22 Ibid., p. 28.

48

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

To put the typology of Origen and Clement into the category of poetical allegory seems to me to be an error. For their typological systematization constitutes an important stage in the development of the allegory of the theologians. The fact that their allegory is Christ-centered and operates on more than two levels would suggest at least that it has as much in common with the allegory of the theologians as it does with the allegory of the poets. By the fifth century the four-fold scheme, the roots of which, as we have seen, go back to the New Testament, had become standard and its various levels distinguished by the designations employed by Dante. The first theologian to outline clearly the four levels of interpretation was St. Augustine. In De Genesi ad litteram he arranges the four senses in the following order: . . . 1. that which refers to eternal things, 2. the literal or historical, 3. that which refers to Christ, 4. the moral sense." The first theologian to set forth what became the definitive terminology was John Cassian. In the Collationes he calls the first level historia, a term which had been interchangeable with the designation literal ever since Origen; the second level tropologia; the third level allegoria; and the fourth level anagoge.2* For some time after the final codification by Cassian the three-fold division of exegesis was used by various interpreters. It was not until the thirteenth century that the four-fold system came to complete supremacy.25 The greatest theologian of the Middle Ages, Thomas Aquinas, adopted Cassian's terminology and distinguished between the allegory of poetry, in which the literal sense is fictive, and the typical interpretation of Scripture, in which the literal sense is historically true. The latter mode of interpretation, he asserted, is applicable only to Scripture.2® This brief survey having been completed, we may arrive at the following conclusions. Though at one point poetical and theolo23

Ibid., " Ibid., 25 Ibid., 28 Ibid.,

p. 33. p. 34. p. 38. pp. 40, 43-44.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

49

gical allegory had converged, they were, by the time of Dante, distinguished in this manner: Theological allegory was characterized by a fourfold scheme of interpretation, which represented two basic levels: (1) the literal or historical, which was true or real; and (2) the spiritual, which was made up of three senses: the moral or topological, the allegorical (or Christological), and the anagogical (or eschatological). Poetical allegory was characterized by a two-fold division, the first level of which was Active and the second of which did not proliferate into several levels of interpretation. We are now ready to consider the significance of what Dante has to say about allegory in the Convivio. Most commentators insist that Dante uses the allegory of the poets in the Convivio. They call attention to his own words: It is true that the theologians take this sense otherwise than the poets do, but since it is my purpose here to follow the method of the poets I shall take the allegorical sense after the use of the poets." But it is possible to assume that Dante is pointing out that, on this level, he is following the example of the poets. It seems to me that he is referring to the fact that there is no Christological significance on the allegorical level of his work. That he borrows the fourfold method of interpretation seems to show, however, that he is incorporating, or attempting to incorporate, the allegory of the theologians with the allegorical technique of the poets. Moreover, to illustrate the third level, he points to the Gospel account of the Transfiguration. The fact that Christ took only three companions with Him suggests to Dante the moral interpretation that "in the most secret things we should have but few companions".28 "The fourth sense", he goes on to say: is called the anagogical, that is to say "above the sense"; and this is when a scripture is spiritually expounded which even in the literal sense, by the very things it signifies, signifies again some portion of the supernal things of external glory; as may be seen in that song of the prophet which sayeth that when the people of Israel came out of Egypt Judea was made holy and free. Which though it be manifestly true according to the letter is none the less true in its spiritual inten27 The Convivio of Dante Alighieri, op. cit., p. 64. *» Ibid., p. 64.

50

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

tion; to wit, that when the soul goeth forth out of sin, it is made holy and free in its p o w e r . . . * · It seems to me to be misleading to say, as Chydenius does, that "As regards the last two senses, Dante fails to notice that they belong exclusively to the allegory of the theologians". 80 It seems more logical to say that Dante is attempting to combine the allegory of the theologians with the allegorical technique of the poets. Apparently he wished to apply the same depth of interpretation that the theologians found in Scripture to a literary work. With this point in mind, let us turn to his statement concerning the interpretation of the Comedy. H e says: To elucidate, then, what we have to say, be it known that the sense of this work is not simple, but on the contrary it may be called polysemous, that is to say, "of more senses than one"; for it is one sense which we get through the letter, and another which we get through the thing the letter signifies; and the first is called literal, but the second allegorical or mystic. And this mode of treatment, for its better manifestation, may be considered in this verse: "When Israel came out of Egypt, and the house of Jacob from a people of strange speech, Judaea became his sanctification, Israel his power." For if we inspect the letter alone the departure of the children of Israel from Egypt in the time of Moses is presented to us; if the allegory, our redemption wrought by Christ; if the moral sense, the conversion of the soul from the grief and misery of sin to the state of grace is presented to us; if the anagogical, the departure of the holy soul from the slavery of this corruption to the liberty of eternal glory is presented to us. And although these mystic senses have each their special denominations, they may all in general be called allegorical, since they differ from the literal and historical.. . 31 On the basis of this statement, Charles Singleton finds it necessary to believe that Dante's allegory in the Comedy is the allegory of the theologians. H e points out that the illustration Dante presents is an historical event, and summarizes the problem thus: M

Ibid., pp. 64-65. Chydenius, op. cit., p. 46. Dante Alighieri, "Epistle to Can Grande", A Translation of the Latin Works of Dante Alighieri, trans, by A. G. F. Howell and P. H. Wicksteed (Temple Classics) (London, J. M. Dent & Sons, 1929), pp. 347-348. so

31

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

51

The crux of the matter, then, is this: If we take the allegory of the Divine Comedy to be the allegory of poets (as Dante understood that allegory in the Convivio) then we shall be taking it as a construction in which the literal sense ought always to be expected to yield another sense because the literal is only a fiction devised to express a second meaning. In this view the first meaning, if it does not give another, true meaning, has no excuse for being. Whereas, if we take the allegory of the Divine Comedy to be the allegory of theologians, we shall expect to find in the poem a first literal meaning presented as a meaning which is not fictive but true, because the words which give that meaning point to events which are seen as historically true. And we shall see these events themselves reflecting a second meaning because their author, who is God, can use events as men use words. But, we shall not demand at every moment that the event signified by the words be in its turn as a word, because this is not the case in Holy Scripture.32 Dante's journey to God, Mr. Singleton goes on to say, is meant to be taken, on the literal level, as historically true and, on the mystic level, as representative of the mystery of the Incarnation. Those readers, he concludes, who deny that which a poet asks, who say they do not believe Dante went to the other world, do not understand Dante's mind.83 Surely we are meant to apply to a reading of the Divine Comedy that willing suspension of disbelief which any great literary work demands of its reader. This granted, it is still a mistake to insist that Dante's allegory in the Divine Comedy is the allegory of the theologians. There is a distinction between Biblical historicity and literary make-believe. Moreover, the essence of theological typological interpretation is the prefigurement of Christ. The action of Dante's Comedy takes place after the life of Christ, and the redemption by Christ which that action signifies is not precisely the same as that which the departure of the children of Israel from Egypt indicates. The one is a promise; the other is a result or a part of the fulfilment of the promise. And the fact that Dante uses an historically true illustration to suggest the type of interpretation he wishes applied to his Comedy does32 Charles Singleton, "Dante's Allegory", Speculum, XXV (Jan., 1950), 79-80. 33 Ibid., pp. 82-83.

52

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

not necessarily indicate that he is asking his readers to accept the authenticity of the events in the Comedy in exactly the same way that they might accept the historicity of the events in the Bible. He also used historically true illustrations to suggest the type of interpretation he wished on the tropological and analogical levels of the Convivio, where clearly he meant for the literal level to be taken as fictive. I do not believe that Dante intends to insist upon the historicity of his imaginative journey through the other world in the same way the theologians came to insist upon the historicity of the literal level of Scripture. By the same token, the literal level of the poem is not meant to be approached from the standpoint of poetical or Philonic allegory. For the regions through which the narrator passes and the events which are suggested by the existence of Hell and Purgatory - the Fall of Satan and the Harrowing of Hell - are meant to be regarded as real; there is a concrete reality underlying Dante's imaginative study of the way of a soul. The story of Adam and Eve Philo apparently believed to be fictive, designed to express a philosophical truth about the nature of man and his relationship to an absolutely wise, just, and merciful God; it is the allegory of the human soul. Dante's Comedy has a similar purpose: it is an allegory of a human soul who is, in a sense, Everyman. But Dante differs from Philo in this important respect: he accepts the authenticity of biblical story; the events reflected in the Comedy - the Fall of Satan, the Fall of Adam, the Crucifixion of Christ; i.e., the events which have resulted in the creation and peopling of Hell and Purgatory — are historically valid. And Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise, the areas through which the narrator travels, are real. On the other hand, the actual event from which his allegory is derived, the journey itself, is meant surely to be considered fictive.34 The in84

Cf. Francis Fergusson, Dante's Drama of the Mind: A Modern Reading of the Purgatorio (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1953), p. 130: "Dante regarded his poem as fictive, and even insisted upon his work as poet, or maker of the fiction. He could hardly have believed in the literal reality of his fictive scenes and characters, as Saint Paul believed in the historic fulfillment of the historic sufferings of the Jews."

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

53

tellectual and spiritual movement, however, which it reflects the transformation from the state of sin to the state of grace in life - is real. No one can prove whatever theory he may have about Dante's allegory in the Comedy. Dante does not leave us a clear explanation of a very complex business. But a closer look at the Epistle to Can Grande may at least partially substantiate the line we have taken. After stating and illustrating the four levels of interpretation, Dante says: When we understand this we see clearly that the subject round which the alternative senses play must be twofold. And we must therefore consider the subject of this work as literally understood, and then its subject as allegorically intended. The subject of the whole work, then, taken in the literal sense only, is 'the state of souls after death," without qualification, for the whole progress of the work hinges on it and about it. Whereas if the work be taken allegorically the subject is "man, as by good or ill deserts, in the exercise of the freedom of his choice, he becomes liable to rewarding or punishing justice". The form or method of treatment is poetic, fictive, descriptive, digressive, transumptive [metaphorical].. .S5

Precisely what Dante means here by "literally understood" it is difficult to say. One may, however, speculate thus: The fact that every soul after death must go to Hell or to Purgatory is to be literally understood in the same way that Scripture is literally understood. Whether this line of reasoning is acceptable or not, surely there can be no quibbling with his statement about method: It is poetic and fictive. Here, I take it, he is referring to the narrator who journeys to the other world. For against the supernatural background which reflects the history of the human race, a soul that is not dead moves; and the central truth of the relation of life to death, of this world to the other world, is thus revealed through a fictive framework. Now that we have attempted to explain Dante's use of allegory in the Divine Comedy, let us take a closer look at some of the implications of the theological side of the framework upon which the poem is based. » "Epistle to Can Grande", op. cit., pp. 348-349.

54

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

Human adversity and prosperity in theological terms are inextricably bound up with the figures of Adam and Christ. It is the relationship between Adam and Christ that accounts for the tension in the soul of man and sets the scene for the drama of salvation. The following passage from a sermon of St. Augustine's explains the significance of this pattern: Recall the memory of the man who deceived us; remember the Man who redeemed us. Was not the latter the Son of Man? Adam was man, but not the son of man. The Lord Christ constantly speaks of Himself as the Son of Man to make us remember the man who was not a son of man, so that we may be mindful of death in the one and life in the other; of sin in the one and remission of sins in the other; of enslavement in the one and of freedom in the other; of condemnation in the one and of acquittal in the other.3'

In another sermon on the Easter Season he points out that the present is a time of sorrow because of our sins; nevertheless, he continues, we may hope for a time of joy, though it is unmerited, because of the grace of God: "We deserve evils; we hope for blessings. The mercy of Him who created us brings this about." 37 After explaining the necessity for repentance and pointing to an example of insincere and, consequently, unfruitful prayer, Augustine praises the sinner who is truly repentant and observes, regarding the plight of man on this earth, that: This is truly the time of fruitful sorrow, so that we may lament the state of our mortality, the abundance of temptations, the stealthy attacks of sinners, the clash of desires, the conflicts of passions ever rebelling against good thoughts.®8

Man should grieve over the fact of his mortality, over his susceptibility to sin, over the misery into which he is born. But he has the fact of Christ to console him, the possibility of paradise. The forty days before Easter represent, according to Augustine, the plight of man in this world; the fifty days after Easter signify the time of joy which is to come. "For two periods are observed 59

Saint Augustine, Sermons on the Liturgical Seasons, trans, by Sister Mary Sarah Muldowney (New York, Fathers of the Church, Inc., 1959), p. 219. »' Ibid., p. 342. 88 Ibid., pp. 344-345.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

55

by us: the one before the Resurrection of the Lord, the other after the Resurrection of the Lord; the one in the midst of which we are now, the other in which we hope to be in the future." 88 This, then, in brief, is the pattern which Dante used to invest a literary formula with cosmic significance. We should note, however, that the theological pattern which he uses is in reality a fragment of a larger pattern which extends from the beginning of time to the end of creation, which takes in the creation of the first beings and the end of the earth. The fragment which Dante employs is, from the standpoint of the individual, the most important part of the framework from which it is taken; however, the significance it has for the individual can only be explained by reference to the pattern as a whole. That is to say, the fragment which Dante utilizes, the beginning in sin and the ending in joy, reflects the significance of the pattern as a whole. A more complete statement of the pattern is contained in Gregory of Nyssa's "The Great Catechism". Man, Gregory begins, as well as the world, was created good. He is now, however, no longer to be seen under the primeval circumstances of his origin. Though he was created in the image of God and endowed with all of the excellences of God, including the gift of immortality, he is at present "of brief existence, subject to passions, liable to decay, and ready both in body and mind for every form of suffering".40 The cause for the disparity in the positions of man as he was and man as he is lies in the result of another of God's gifts, free will. The fact that man was created in the image of God necessitated the granting of such an attribute. "How can that nature which is under a yoke and bondage to any kind of necessity be called an image of a Master being? Was it not, then, most right that that which is in every detail made like the Divine should possess in its nature a self»» Ibid., p. 345 40 Gregory of Nyssa, "The Great Catechism", Select Writings and Letters of Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, trans, with prolegomena, notes, and indices, by William Moore and H. A. Wilson ( = A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, second series, Vol. V) (New York, The Christian Literature Co., 1893), p. 479.

56

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

ruling and independent principle, such as to enable the participation of good to be the reward of its virtue?" 41 Thus Gregory absolves God of responsibility for evil: Evil resulted from a perversion of human will; it is not to be attributed to the Divine will: Since, then, this is the peculiarity of the possession of a free will, that it chooses as it likes the thing that pleases it, you will find that it is not God who is the author of the present evils, seeing that he has ordered your nature so as to be its own master and free; but rather the recklessness that makes choice of the worse in preference to the better.«

Though the world and man were created good, however, there was evil in the universe before their creation. Evil began when one of the created spirits turned his eyes away from the good and became aware of that which is contrary to good. He drifted to the utmost limits of depravity and used his God-given intellectual powers to contrive evil. Then, envious because of the position in the creation that God had granted man, he sought to bring destruction to mankind. He was, however, not completely successful, "for the strength of God's blessing overmastered his own force".« Nevertheless, by succumbing to the temptation of Satan, Adam and Eve brought death and decay into the world. And, according to Gregory, the coats of skins with which God clothed Adam and Eve after their disobedience represent the capacity of dying, previously associated only with the animal creation.44 Man was rescued from this dismal state, however, by the ransom of God. Thus, just as the principle of death passed down to humanity from one person, so the "resurrection-life extends from one person to the whole of humanity".45 One may well speculate, says Gregory, as to the reasonableness of the means by which the rescue was carried out. One might, «

42 43

Ibid.

Ibid., pp. 479-480. Ibid.,

p. 481.

« Ibid.,

p. 489.

44

Ibid., pp. 482-483.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

57

for example, have expected God to accomplish His will by a single command, "whereas He waits for long periods of time to come round, He submits Himself to the condition of a human body, He enters upon the stage of life by being born, and after passing through each age of life in succession, and then tasting death, at last, only by the rising again of His own body, accomplishes His object. . .".4e But His actions, when examined carefully, display the utmost wisdom, justice, and mercy. His goodness or mercy is shown in "His regaining to Himself the allegiance of one who had revolted to the opposite side, instead of allowing the fixed goodness of His nature to be affected by the variableness of the human will.. ,".47 His justice may be seen if we keep in mind the fact that man's predicament resulted from his having been "persuaded, through the deception of the great advocate and inventer of vice, that that was beauty which was just the opposite (for this deception would never have succeeded, had not the glamour of beauty been spread over the hook of vice like a bait).. ,".48 Since man, of his own free will, bartered away his freedom for sensual pleasure, "it was requisite that no arbitrary method of recovery, but the one consonant with justice should be devised by Him Who in His goodness had undertaken our rescue".49 Violence would have been unjust and therefore not consonant with the Divine nature; justice, however, could be served by offering a ransom to the master of the slave. Christ was the ransom. Seeing such great power in Christ, the Enemy believed that he had an opportunity to profit by the exchange; thus he chose Him as a ransom for those who were imprisoned in death. Since Christ was enclosed in flesh, Satan was not afraid to approach him. He was unable to see the "unclouded aspect of God"; he saw only "some portion of that fleshly nature which through sin he had so long held in bondage".60 Thus, Gregory concludes, God's decision to save man shows His goodness; His method - redemption through ransom « " « « 50

Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,

p. 487. p. 491. p. 492. pp. 492-493. p. 493.

58

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

reveals His justice; His invention - the clothing of Christ in flesh so that Satan would not take alarm - demonstrates His wisdom.61 Eager to prove the absolute purity of God's actions, Gregory raises the question as to whether God is guilty of deceit in the Dispensation; for, he says, unquestionably the method by which He saved man is in some measure a fraud and a surprise. How does this fact affect our notion of God's wisdom and justice? First, says Gregory, it is necessary to keep in mind the essential qualities of justice and wisdom: To achieve the former in this case, everyone must receive his due; to achieve the latter, God's justice must, without being distorted, reflect His love for mankind. God, asserts Gregory, has skillfully combined the two in his actions: "That repayment, adequate to the debt, by which the deceiver was in his turn deceived, exhibits the justice of the dealing, while the object aimed at is a testimony to the goodness of Him who effected it." 52 For, Gregory points out, one who uses poison as an antidote to poison is to be admired while the converse is true if the poison is to be used to destroy. The method is, then, to be admired both for its justice and wisdom: The Enemy used the bait of sensual pleasure to deceive man; in turn, God used the deceptive outward appearance of a human form to deceive Satan. God used His deceptive device for salvation; the Enemy used his for destruction.63 The points of doctrine which Gregory makes in his explanation would not, of course, be typical of all the Church Fathers. Not all of them, for example, would agree that the ransom was paid to the devil and not to God. But the basic thought-pattern of this treatise, the framework within which Gregory draws his conclusions, is typical. What we may derive from this discourse, then, is an indication of the way the medieval mind conceived the mind of God and the way in which its conclusions about the Divine mind were proved. Like all of the Church Fathers Gregory proves his points about the relation of man to God by basing his 51

Ibid., pp. 493-494.

» Ibid., p. 495. « Ibid.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

59

judgments on the central events in the history of the human race as recorded in the Old and New Testaments. And he proves to his satisfaction the justice, mercy, and ultimate wisdom of God at the same time that he places the responsibility for whatever is evil in life squarely on the shoulders of man. The same approach to the problem of man's relationship to God is found in the Divine Comedy, where the abstract reasoning of the Church Fathers is made personal, concrete, and dramatic. In form the Comedy is "a poem, the epic of man the pilgrim of salvation".54 It is, as one of the most distinguished of Dante's interpreters has observed, "the epic of remorse, repentance, purification, and final uplifting".55 The main action of the Comedy may be summarized as follows: The poem begins with Dante wandering in a dark wood, which represents the worldly life. He has fallen into error and his soul is in danger of Hell. He desires, however, to reform, to ascend the sunlit mountain, which represents righteousness. His attempt is hindered by three beasts, the evil habits which impede the desire of the soul for reform. The fact, however, that the sinner desires reform, that he is remorseful, makes him eligible for grace. So it is that divine mercy intervenes. Beatrice, who represents Revelation, requests that Virgil go to his aid. Since Dante the sinner is not fit for direct revelation, he must first be led through Hell by Reason. "Virgil", as Grandgent explains, "who typifies human understanding, discloses to Dante the true nature of sin in all its hideousness and folly: for the punishments of Hell so minutely described, are but the images of the sins themselves." 66 Once the journey to the bottom of Hell has been completed, the horrified Dante turns his back upon sin; the laborious but uneventful journey from the center of the earth to the Island of Purgatory, according to Grandgent, signifies the painful wrenching away of his soul from the clutches of sin. This 54 H. O. Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind: A History of the Development of Thought and Emotion in the Middle Ages, Π (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1919), p. 568. 55 C. H. Grandgent, "Introduction", La Divina Commedia, edited and annotated by C. H. Grandgent (Boston, D . C. Heath & Co., 1913), p. xxix. 58 Ibid., p. xxxii.

60

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

accomplished, the next step is purification, which can come only through penance. Dante passes through all of the torments on the terraces of Purgatory. By such a process of purification the soul regains the faculty of free will; and when the state of original innocence has been attained, Dante enters the earthly Paradise, the Garden of Eden, which crowns the summit of Purgatory. It is there that the history and glory of the Church is unfolded symbolically before him.®7 Then Beatrice replaces Virgil as guide, and Dante is led through the hierarchy of Heaven. The poem concludes with his vision of God. The significance of the framework is obvious. The poem begins with Dante on the brink of damnation. Unable to achieve redemption by himself, he becomes the recipient of divine mercy. The final movement of the poem depicts his journey through Paradise, which indicates his salvation. The movement is, then, from damnation to salvation, from adversity to prosperity. But the poem is meant to illustrate more than the salvation of a single soul. If we apply Dante's allegorical scheme to the central action of the poem,68 it becomes evident that the narrator is, in a sense, Everyman. By revealing the horrors of Hell, the hope of Purgatory, and the bliss of Paradise, Dante seeks to win the souls of all men; the reader is meant to learn with the narrator that lesson which is of moral benefit to all mankind - that evil does not pay. He is, moreover, meant to see that Dante's journey is a fulfilment of the journey of Christ through Hell, the journey which resulted in the opening of Purgatory and the possibility of man's following Christ to Paradise. He is also meant to see that the bliss of Paradise is accessible to all sinners who will accept the grace of God. No one, to paraphrase a remark of Professor Tillyard's about Hamlet, is likely to accept without reservations some one else's 57

Ibid., pp. xxxii-xxxiii. I am not implying that the various allegorical levels cannot also be applied to various incidents and characters in the minor actions of the poem. See, for example, Erich Auerbach's "Figurative Texts Illustrating Certain Passages of Dante's Commedia", Speculum, ΧΠ (October, 1946), 474-489. 58

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

61

interpretation of a poem as complex in meaning and form as Dante's Comedy. Whether the above allegorical reading of the Comedy can be completely accepted is, however, of small importance. But perhaps these broad general points can be granted: (1) Dante's fictive journey derives its significance from the historical background against which it is presented; that is to say, the significance of the individual soul which seeks freedom from sin must be understood in the light of the major events in the history of the race. And these events - The Fall of Satan, which resulted in the construction of Hell; the Fall of Adam, which resulted in the peopling of Hell; and the Sacrifice of Christ, which resulted in the opening of Purgatory and the possibility of redemption for all men - are implicit in the structure of the Comedy. (2) Dante's journey, which is a symbolic representation of a transformation in his own life, also represents the transformation of any soul; that is to say, Dante, in a sense, is Everyman.59 For any Christian may, by the grace of God, if he repents, achieve a state of grace on earth which is analogous to the innocence which he will regain after death and which will eventually enable him to enter Paradise. The focus of the outer structure of the Comedy, the enveloping action, is on the balance of mercy which God affords to man; but it is important to keep in mind the fact that a series of minor actions within the poem illustrates the justice of God, a justice which complements His mercy. Two types of retributive punishment are involved in this motif: that of Hell and that of Purgatory. One is eternal; the other is temporary. Both types of justice reveal the absolute rationality of God; for, in Dante's view, neither is predestined. The individual soul is responsible for the punishment it receives; and the exact nature of the punishment, whether of Purgatory or of Hell, is a direct result of the sins which made such a punishment necessary. The following examples make this point apparent: 5 * See Fergusson, op. cit., p. 142; Grandgent, op. cit., p. xxix; Taylor, op. cit., p. 589; and Erich Auerbach, Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature, trans, by Willard R. Trask (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1953), p. 189.

62

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

In the second circle of Hell, Dante finds that the carnal sinners, those who in life allowed themselves to drift with their passions for the sake of pleasure, are condemned to be tossed painfully about forever by stormy winds: Now the notes of woe begin to make themselves heard by me; now 1 am come where much wailing smites me. I had come into a place mute of all light, that bellows as the sea does in a tempest, if it be combated by contrary winds. The infernal hurricane which never rests carries along the spirits with its rapine; whirling and smiting it molests them... I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject the reason to the appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a large and full troop, so did that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, neither of repose, nor of less pain. ("Inferno", V, 25-32, 35-45««)

The moral application is obvious: Those light-weight souls which have been tossed about by their passions in life for the sake of pleasure now receive pain from a condition which reflects their lack of stability on earth. Approaching the Seventh Circle, Dante and Virgil make their way down a steep cliff of shattered rock. At the bottom they find "the river of blood . . . in which everyone who does harm by violence to others is boiling" ("Inferno", XII, 47-48). So precise is the punishment meted out to sinners that there is even allowance made for degrees of iniquity. Thus Centaurs armed with bows patrol the stream "shooting with their arrows whatever soul lifts itself from the blood more than its crime has allotted to it" ("Inferno", XII, 75-76). The souls of the flatterers, which occupy one of the rings in the Eighth Circle of Hell, are, appropriately enough, immersed in excrement. Dante recognizes one, Alessio Interminei of Lucca, who says: Down here the flatteries wherewith I never had my tongue cloyed have submerged me. ("Inferno", XVIII, 124-126) 80

This and all subsequent references to the Divine Comedy are by line

to the text as printed in The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, trans, by Charles Eliot Norton ( = Great Books of the Western World, Vol. XXI)

(Chicago, Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., 1955).

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

63

Similarly, the simonists also experience poetic or divine justice. They are placed head first into circular holes in the rocks so that only their feet and legs are visible. One of them, Pope Nicholas III, notes the appropriateness of the punishment: " . . . up there I put wealth, and here myself, into the purse" ("Inferno", XIX, 71-72). And Dante's comment on the foul appearance of the monstrous form of Satan, who stands in the bottom of Hell, suggests one aspect of the justice of that punishment: "If he was as fair as he now is foul, and lifted up his brows against his Maker, well should all tribulation proceed from him" ("Inferno", XXXIV, 33-36). The iron law of justice that is operative in Hell also governs the punishments of Purgatory. The spirits of the proud, Dante finds, are bent beneath a burden of stone: As to support ceiling or roof, by way of corbel, a figure is sometime seen joining its knees to its breasts, which out of the unreal gives birth to a real distress in him who sees it, thus fashioned did I see these, when I gave good heed. ("Purgatorio", X, 130-135)

One of these unfortunates, Omberto Aldobrandesco, explains the justice of his punishment; and Dante learns that, unlike the spirits in Hell, the sufferers in Purgatory can look for an end to their sufferings: . . . I am Omberto: and not only to me pride does harm, for all my kinsfolk has it dragged with it into calamity; and here must I bear this load for it till God be satisfied, - here, among the dead, since I did it not among the living. ("Purgatorio", XI, 67-71)

The souls of the envious sit huddled together, their eyelids stitched shut with an iron wire, "even as is done to a wild hawk, because it stays not quiet" ("Purgatorio", XII, 71-72). And the slothful are discovered running at full speed, some of them crying: "Swift, swift, that time be not lost by little love . . . so that zeal in well-doing may make grace green again" ("Purgatorio", XVIII, 102-105). Severely logical also are the predicaments of the avaricious and the gluttonous. Lying prone on the ground, Pope Adrian V, a member of the former group, observes:

64

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

Even as our eye, fixed upon earthly things, was not lifted on high, so justice here has sunk it to earth. As avarice quenched our love for every good; whereby our working was lost, so justice here holds us close, bound and captive in feet and hands; and, so long as it shall be the pleasure of the just Lord, so long shall we stay immovable and outstretched. ("Purgatorio", XIX, 118-126) The spirits of the gluttons are emaciated; fired with the desire to eat and drink, they circle a sweet-smelling fruit tree, the upper part of which is watered by a spring that flows from a nearby cliff. One of them makes the following comment: All this folk who sing weeping, because of following their appetite beyond measure, are here in hunger and in thirst making themselves holy again. The odor which issues from the fruit and from the spray which is spread over the verdure, kindles in us desire to eat and drink. And not once only, as we circle this floor, is our pain renewed; I say pain, and ought to say solace, for that will leads us to the tree which led Christ with joy to say: "Eli", when with his blood he delivered us. ("Purgatorio", XXIII, 63-75) The punishments which Dante the pilgrim observes in Hell and Purgatory attest to the absolute justice which characterizes the divine plan. What distinguishes the punishments in Purgatory from those of Hell is hope. For the sinners in Purgatory, by the grace of God as revealed in the sacrifice of Christ, become eligible for release. This grace had, at the time of its inception, extended into Hell where some of the damned - those who were worthy were allowed to make the transition to Purgatory; among those thus rescued, Dante learns from Virgil, were "the shade of the first parent, of Abel his son, and that of Noah, of Moses the lawgiver and obedient, Abraham the patriarch, and David the King, Israel with his father and with his offspring, and with R a c h e l . . . " ("Inferno", IV, 52-59). This rescue was attended by an earthquake, the evidence of which remains in Hell. The steep rocky slope which Virgil and Dante descend in order to make their way into the Seventh Circle is a result of the earthquake which occurred at the Crucifixion. Virgil observes: Thou art thinking perhaps on this ruin which is guarded by that bestial wrath which I just now quelled. Now I would have thee know

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

65

that the other time when I descended here below into the nether hell, this cliff had not yet fallen. But in truth, if I discern aright, a little ere He came, who levied the great spoil on Dis from the uppermost circle, on all sides the deep foul valley trembled so that I thought the universe felt love whereby, as some believe, the world has oft-times been converted into chaos: and, at that moment, this ancient rock here and elsewhere made such downfall. ("Inferno", XII, 34-38) And the consequences of the love which made the balance of mercy possible are reflected clearly in the echo of the original earthquake in the mountain of Purgatory, for it announces the passage of a soul to Paradise. The Roman poet Statius explains the Purgatorial earthquake to Dante thus: It trembles here when some soul feels itself pure, so that it rises, or moves to ascend... And I who have lain in this woe five hundred years and more, only just now felt a free volition for a better seat. Because of this didst thou feel the earthquake, and hear the pious spirits upon the mountain render praise to that Lord, who, may He speed them upward soon! ("Purgatorio", XXI, 58-59, 66-72) Intertwined, then, with the pattern of justice in what we have called the interior actions of the poem is the pattern of mercy. Divine mercy neither obliterates nor distorts divine justice. The two are complementary, as we have noted, and, together, reflect the absolute wisdom and goodness of God. The parallel between the enveloping action and the interior actions is clear. The imaginative journey which Dante describes as we have already observed, symbolizes a spiritual transformation. Though the poem does not end with an account of the narrator's return to earth, it is obvious that his worldly life henceforth is to be an imperfect type of the life of prelapsarian man. After death his soul will achieve the perfection of this estate and make itself eligible for Paradise by undergoing the ritual of the purification required by the perfect justice that governs creation.61 Thus the state of grace attained on earth typifies both man's M The following passage makes clear the fact that Dante must ultimately undergo the punishments of Purgatory in reality: "My eyes", said I, "will yet be taken from me here; but for a short time, for small is the offence committed through their being turned with envy. Far greater is the fear, with which my soul is in suspense, of the torment below [on the terrace of pride], and the load down there already weighs upon me" (133-139).

66

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

original state of innocence and the state of paradisal bliss to which the soul may aspire. And the experience of the narrator of the Comedy reflects the perfect co-existence of justice and mercy in the great drama of salvation which is directed by God and enacted by man. The Divine Comedy represents a non-dramatic literary application of the medieval concept of man's relation to God. This conception was also represented in another type of literary work, the English mystery cycle, which had its first dim origins within the service of the Church before Dante's Comedy was conceived but which did not become developed fully until after the writing of that great poem. The grand design of the universe as interpreted by the Fathers of the Church on the basis of their readings of Scripture is preserved in the liturgy of the medieval Church. This service, as Hardin Craig observes, was almost completely symbolical. In it was represented every aspect of the story of man's fall and God's mercy.62 And the choice of subjects which came to make up the English cyclical play was determined to a great extent by the biblical themes that were represented in the calendar of the liturgical year.83 The liturgical year began with the four Sundays that constituted Advent, a season of fasting, prayer, and repentance in preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ. From the ritual of worship in this season came such eschatological themes as the Coming of Antichrist and the Last Judgment. During Christmastide the following biblical events were commemorated: the Annunciation, Mary's Visit to Elizabeth, the Nativity, and the Adoration of the Shepherds. Also developed during this season was the Procession of Messianic Prophets. With Epiphany, which is not clearly distinguished from Christmastide, are associated the Visit of the Magi, the Slaughter of the Innocents, and the Flight into Egypt, as well as the Baptism of Jesus and the •2 Hardin Craig, English Religious Drama of the Middle Ages (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1955), pp. 3-4. « Ibid., p. 8.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

67

Miracle of the Marriage at Cana. The three Sundays which immediately precede Lent are especially important: At this time the stories from the Pentateuch of the Creation and the Fall, of Cain and Abel, Noah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Joseph, and Moses were celebrated. The season of Lent itself contributes the events of Christ's ministry and the Crucifixion. During Easter the Resurrection of Christ was celebrated; during Pentecost, the Coming of the Holy Ghost; and ten days after Pentecost, the Feast of the Ascension.64 Mimetic representation of a biblical subject within the Church probably began during the Easter service. First there was dramatic action without speech. The crucifix was, on Good Friday, taken from its place above the altar and placed in a sepulchre. Monks or priests, representing the soldiers ordered by Pilate to guard the tomb, kept watch over the buried cross. Then came the Easter trope, "a chanted paraphrase or expansion of the appropriate Gospel or Psalm for the day". From such a beginning evolved the first specimen of a dramatic performance which was both acted and vocal - the Quem Quaeritis of the Easter service.85 The Regularis Concordia of Ethelwold, who was Bishop of Winchester in the latter part of the tenth century, contains full directions for this dramatic interlude: While the third lesson is being chanted, let four brethren vest themselves. Let one of these vested in an alb [a white linen robe] enter as if to take part in the service, and let him approach the sepulchre and sit there quietly with a palm in his hand. Let the other three follow, vested in copes [mantles worn over the alb] bearing in their hands censers with incense, and slowly, as if seeking something, let them come to the place of the sepulchre. These things are done in imitation of the angel seated in the tomb and the women coming with spices to anoint the body of Jesus. When he who sits there beholds the three approach him like folk seeking something, let him begin in a dulcet voice to sing Quem quaeritis in sepulchre, Ο Christicolael [Whom seek ye in the tomb, Ο followers of Christ?] M

Ibid., pp. 21-23. " Τ. M. Parrott and R. H. Ball, A Short View of Elizabethan Drama (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1943), pp. 3-4. Cf. Ε. K. Chambers, The Mediaeval Stage, Π (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1903), p. 15.

68

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

When he has sung this to the end, let the three respond in unison Ihesum Nazarenum, crucifixum, a Caelicola [Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified, Ο dweller in heaven]. To whom he: Νon est hie; surr exit, sicut praedixerat. Ite, nuntiate quia surrexit a mortuis [He is not here; he has risen, even as he foretold. Go, announce that he has risen from the dead]. At this bidding let those three turn to the choir saying: Alleluia! resurrexit Dominus [Alleluia! the Lord has risen]. This said let the former seating himself, as if recalling them, sing the anthem: Venite et videte locum [Come and see the place]. Saying this let them set down the censers and take the cloth and spread it out before the clergy and, as if making known to them that the Lord has risen, let them sing this anthem: Surrexit Dominus de sepulchre [The Lord has risen from the tomb], and lay the cloth upon the altar. The anthem being ended let the Prior, sharing in their gladness at the triumph of our King, begin the hymn: Te Deum laudamus [We praise thee, Ο God]. And this begun, all the bells Chime out together.6®

In time this action was enlarged. Such scenes as the visit of Peter and John to the sepulchre, the appearances of Christ to Mary Magdalene and the travellers at Emmaus, the lament of the Marys for their Lord, the resurrection of Lazarus, and the Passion itself became affixed to the initial playlet. The first complete Passion play probably came into being about the time of the Norman Conquest. It was in Latin and it was still a part of the ritual of the Church.67 The same sort of agglutination of scenes may be found in the celebration of the other great festival of the Christian year, Christmas. The Christmas play originated with the antiphonal singing of the Quem quaeritis in prasepe, Pastores?

[Whom seek

ye in the manger, Shepherds?] trope by the choir boys and deacons, who represented the angels and the shepherds at the Nativity. Added over a period of time to this scene were the depiction of the stories of the Magi, King Herod and the Slaughter of the Innocents, and the Flight into Egypt. Moreover, the Christmas service also acquired a procession of prophets who testified regarding the future birth of Christ. And out of this procession there developed a number of plays concerned with the Old Tes«« Ibid., p. 4. •7 Ibid., p. 5.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

69

tament, among which were the Rebellion in Heaven and the Creation of the World.«8 Similarly, the trope of the Ascension festival was developed into a playlet, which led to a series of scenes anticipating the Second Coming and the Day of Judgment.®9 After these biblical subjects had become a part of the Church liturgy, the next step was an amalgamation of all the plays into a cycle of cosmic scope that began with the Fall of Satan and concluded with the Last Judgment. Apparently because of the difficulty involved in presenting such a series within the service of the Church, the performance was given on two successive days, and the scene of action was transferred from the interior of the church to its environs. This was the first step toward the secularization of the drama.70 By the beginning of the fourteenth century this native English drama had passed out of the church and into the control of laymen who arranged the presentation and acted the parts in the streets.71 The drama then became associated with the Corpus Christi celebration, which took place in May or June, a time most propitious for outdoor performances. The long cycle of plays was broken up into separate playlets, each of which became the responsibility of one of the trade guilds in the town and all of which were enacted on "movable scaffolds on wheels".72 As a result of the secularization of the drama there were two •o Ibid. «» Ibid. '· Ibid., p. 6. 71 Ibid., p. 7. Precisely when the plays left the Church it is, of course, impossible to say. Craig (op. cit., p. 88), makes this observation: "We know that liturgical plays or dramatic offices were in the hands of the clergy and that during a period of perhaps slightly more than 100 years, roughly from the beginning of the thirteenth to the beginning of the fourteenth century, the plays left the church and passed into the hands of the laity." We should note, too, as Chambers does (op. cit., p. 96), that it is incorrect to assume that the tendency toward secularization meant the end of Church drama: "The truth is quite otherwise. T o the end of the history of the religious drama, the older types, which it threw out as it evolved, coexisted with the newer ones. The Latin tropes and liturgical dramas held their place in the church services." 71 Ibid., pp. 7, 11.

70

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

important developments: the use of the vernacular and the rise of realism. Both of these developments began in the Church, but became more prominent when the drama had lost its connection with the service of the Church. In the English mystery plays that have survived, the dialogue, except for quotations from Scripture, is for the most part in English. The stage directions from some of the older plays are, however, in Latin. Freedom from the Church liturgy also resulted in a greater freedom in the interpretation of the sacred stories. The characters are conceived anachronistically: " . . . the shepherds of the Nativity play become English shepherds on a Yorkshire moor, grousing in true English fashion about the weather, their wives, and their landlords; Mrs. Noah, a character barely mentioned in the Bible appears again and again in the Miracle [mystery] plays as a typical English shrew . . . " 73 Greater liberty, too, is taken with language, some of which many editors find too offensive to reproduce.74 The fact, however, that the performances contained grossness and buffoonery should not mislead the modern reader as to the essential character of the cycles. At once more naive and more comprehensive than its modern counterpart, the medieval mind, unconstricted by puritanical blinders, would find nothing disturbing, say, about the parody of the Nativity scene in the Second Shepherds' Play, where Mac, the sheep rustler, attempts to cover up a misdemeanor by hiding a sheep in his wife's bed and passing it off as his new-born son. The ape in the human spirit, so horrifying to the Victorian sensibility, was frankly represented, one might say, by such low-comic scenes in the mystery plays as well as by the gargoyle in medieval Church sculpture.75 Low-comic entertainment did not detract from the significance of the central line of the cycle. After describing a typical per'8 Ibid., pp. 8-9. 74 Ibid., p. 9. 75 See Willard Farriham's fine discussion of the way in which the medieval spirit of comedy reflects man's awareness of his imperfections and his feeling of the necessity for curbing his pride ("The Medieval Comic Spirit in the English Renasence", Joseph Quincy Adams Memorial Studies, ed. James G. McManaway, et al., Brattleboro, E. J. Hildreth & Co., 1948, pp. 429-437). Professor Farnham relates this aspect of the medieval spirit to Shakespeare.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

71

formance of the cycle, Ball and Parrott make this fine comment by way of summary: And so the great procession passes amid laughter, tears, and at times awed silence, until, as the shadows lengthen, the last pageant leaves the final station, and the whole story of God's dealing with mankind has been publicly performed. The audience breaks up and departs, entertained to the full, but more than merely entertained, confirmed in the belief that all these sacred tales were true and bad happened in the past, even as they had just been played. A preaching friar once told his congregation in speaking of Christ's resurrection: "If you believe not me, go to Coventry, where you may see it acted every year." Could there be better warrant of the truth of the Bible story? ™ It seems probable that at one time every great cathedral, university, or market town had a cycle of such plays; only four, however, have survived: the York cycle, 48 plays and a fragment; the Towneley cycle, 32 plays; the Chester cycle, 25 plays; and the so-called Ludus Coventriae, or Hegge Plays, 42 plays.77 For our purposes it is not necessary to examine each of these cycles. Let us look at the Chester group, probably the oldest mystery cycle in England and, according to Hardin Craig, the one "that retains most perfectly the original form and spirit of the Corpus Christi play.. .". 78 It is interesting to note that the structure of the Chester cycle is based to a certain extent on the typology of the theologians, for the plays which make up the cycle may be divided into three main sections: (1) Introduction: the dramatization of the Old Testament stories of the origin and consequences of evil and of those stories which foreshadow an antidote to mankind's fallen position; (2) Climax: the dramatization of the partial fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy in the life of Christ; (3) Denouement: the dramatization of the fulfilment of Old and New Testament eschatological prophecy. This scheme may be applied to all of the surviving English cycles. Five plays in the Chester cycle belong in the Introductory or ' · Ball and Parrott, op. tit., p. 13.

77 78

Ibid., p. 10.

Craig, op. cit., p. 166.

72

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

expository division of the cycle. The first play is the Fall of Satan. God commands the angels to respect Him and not give way to pride. After appointing Lucifer to govern in His absence, He leaves the scene. Lucifer, becoming intoxicated with his beauty and position, attempts to usurp God's position: Ah! ah! that I am wonderous bright among yow all shyning full cleare! of all heaven I beare the light thoughe God himself, and he were here. (105-108) 7 *

God returns and dispatches Lucifer to Hell, where the enraged fallen angel decides to get revenge for his punishment by seducing man: And therefore I shall for his sake showe mankind great Envie; as sone as ever he can him make, I shall send him for to destroye. (233-36)

The play concludes with God's decision to create man. The second play is about the creation of the world and the fall of man. It also includes the story of the murder of Abel. Adam and Eve have been warned not to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge, which will bring death. Satan, in the guise of an adder, seduces Eve by telling her that, once she has eaten the fruit, she will be like a god. After Adam, at Eve's invitation, succumbs to the temptation also, God appears and explains the punishment which they must undergo. Henceforth, he observes, all women will experience pain in childbirth and all men will have to sweat to maintain their existence. Worst of all, as Adam and Eve leave the Garden of Eden, they are compelled to put on the skins of dead beasts; God explains the significance of this action: For deadlie bothe nowe bene yee, and death no way may you flee; '· This and all subsequent references are by line to the text of The Chester Plays, ed. Dr. Hermann Deimling and Dr. Matthews ("Early English Text Society", extra series, Vols. LXEI and CXV; London, Oxford University Press, 1959 [1892, 1916]), Parts I and Π.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

73

such clothes are best for your degree, and such now ye shall weare. (365-368)

Like the members of the animal kingdom, they are now exposed to the horror of death.80 The second half of this play (there is no transition or break of any kind) is concerned with Cain and Abel, who have been born outside of Paradise. Adam tells his sons of the vision of the future which he had during the creation of Eve. He saw the flood, the triumph of Christ, and the Last Judgment. Christ, he observes, will regain that which . . . I so lost for my synme; a new law then shall begin and so men shall yt finde. (454-56)

Adam then admonishes his sons to follow the will of God. Unfortunately, however, Cain does not follow his father's injunction. He refuses to make an appropriate sacrifice to God; and, envious because his brother's sacrifice has been accepted and his own rejected, he murders Abel, after making this remark: Say, thou cayteife, the conioyne, wenes thou to passe me of renowne? thou shalt fayle, by my crowne! ot mastery, if I maye. (601-604)

God appears and says: What hast thou done, thou wicked man? thy brothers bloode askes the vpon vengeance, as fast as it can, from earth to me cryinge. (621-24)

Cain is condemned to be an outcast; and when he tells Eve of the murder and its consequences, she asserts: Well I wott and know, I wis, verey vengeance that it is, for to God did I so amisse that I shall never haue gladinge. (693-96) 80

Cf. Gregory of Nyssa, supra, p. 56.

74

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

This observation helps to make clear the logical connection between the two actions of the play. The skillful construction of this play is worth pointing out. By telescoping the Adam-Eve and Cain-Abel stories into one play, the author powerfully dramatizes the consequences of the defection in the Garden. The death which man inherits as a result of the Fall seems to be symbolized and foreshadowed by the skins of the animals with which Adam and Eve clothe themselves as they leave the Garden; it is fulfilled in the murder of Abel. It is worth noting, too, that the envy, pride, and anger which possess Cain and lead him to slay his brother seem to parallel those motivations which led Satan to plot the destruction of Adam and Eve.81 The whole design of the cycle is presented in miniature in these first two plays. Their actions are controlled by the theme of retributive justice. Satan is thrown into Hell; Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden; Abel is ostracized from humanity. But, even this early in the depiction of the drama of man's damnation and salvation, the motif of mercy is present in Adam's description of his vision of Christ's sacrifice. The flood, which also was a part of Adam's vision, is the subject of the next play in the cycle. Again the pattern of divine retribution is presented. Because of the sinfulness of the world, God announces to the righteous Noah: Destroyed all the world shalbe, save thou; thy wife, thy sonnes three, and all there wives also with thee shall saved be for thy sake. (37-40)

Here the pattern of salvation or mercy is implicit. Noah, for whose sake some are saved, may be regarded as a type of Christ.82 81

Cf. Cain's speech (supra, p. 73) with Satan's reaction to Adam: Shold suche a Caytife, made of claye have such blisse? nay, be my laye. (177-178) Whether consciously or not, the Chester author seems to make the thought processes of Cain parallel those of Satan. 82 For a discussion of this tradition see Danielou, op. cit., pp. 69-130.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

75

Following the story of Noah is the dramatization of the Offering of Melchizedek, to which is appended the story of Isaac and Abraham. Both of these episodes are designed to foreshadow the coming of Christ and the New Covenant. At the outset of the play Abraham gives thanks for the victory which has enabled him to rescue Lot, and Melchizedek brings him wine and bread. An Expositor makes clear the significance of this action: This offring, I saie verament, signified the new Testament, that now is vsed with good intent througheout all Christianitye. (117-120)

He goes on to say: By Abraham vnderstand I may the father of heaven in good faye, Melchisadech a preist to his paye To minister that sacrament that Christ ordayned on Sherethursday in bread and wyne . . . (137-142)

Abraham asks God for an heir. God promises him a son and tells him that of his seed there shall come " . . . one Child of great degree / all mankind shall forbye" (175-176). God then introduces the rite of circumcision, saying that whoever refuses to follow it is to be foresaken. The Expositor elucidates this matter as follows: As followeth now verament, so was this in the old Testament; but when Christ dyed, away yt went, and Baptisme then began. (197-200)

The rite of circumcision, then, prefigures the rite of baptism. Another typological dramatization is presented in the second half of the play. Abraham now has a son, the heir that God had promised him. Having been commanded by God to sacrifice Isaac, Abraham is about to comply when he is ordered by an angel to desist. A lamb, the grateful father learns, is to replace

76

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

his son as the sacrificial offering. The Expositor makes the point clear: By Abraham I may vnderstand the father of heaven that can fand with his sonnes blood to break that band the Devil had brought vs too. By Isaac vnderstand I may Ihesu that was obedyent aye, his fathers will to work alway, his death to vnderfonge. (469-76)

The fifth and final play in the first division of the Chester cycle is the story of Balak and Balaam. Balak, King of Moab, sends for the prophet Balaam, whom he wants to curse the people of Israel. To the king's consternation, Balaam, after being prompted by God to disregard his mercenary instincts, blesses the people of Israel and prophesies the career of Christ. Then follows a series of prophecies from the Old Testament which bear on the coming of Christ and which are interpreted by the Expositor. Among the prophets represented are Jonah and Micah. Jonah speaks of being in the stomach of the whale for three days; and the Expositor, referring to the words of Christ, has this to say: Right as Ionas was dayes three in wombe of whall, so shall he be in earth lyinge, as was he, and rise the third daye. (357-360)

Micah reminds the viewers of the connection between Adam and Christ: I, Michael, through my mynde will saye that men shall sothlie finde that a Ohilde of kinges kinde in Bethlem shall be borne, That shall be Duke to dight and deale and rule the folke of Israeli, also wyn againe mankindes heale, that through Adam was lorne. (393-400)

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

77

Such prophecies, as the Expositor points out, are designed to prepare the audience for the series of plays dealing with the life of Christ. More prophecies could be presented, he declares; but it would take too long. The second division of the cycle deals with the birth, life, and death of Christ. The first play in this division (the sixth in the cycle), the Nativity, begins with Gabriel's explanation of the birth of Christ to Mary. After his qualms about the circumstances surrounding Mary's pregnancy have been allayed, Joseph receives word that the Emperor Octavian has proclaimed a universal census. It is while Mary and Joseph are journeying to the city to pay Octavian's tribute that Jesus is born. Mary does not suffer from the pangs of child-birth; the penance which all women endure as a result of Eve's sin has not been imposed. She says: penance non I felt this night but right so as he in me light, comen is he here in my sight, Gods sonne, as you may see. (517-520)

Miracles attend the birth of Christ, one of which - that of the doubting midwife - is dramatized and the remainder of which are recounted by the Expositor. Also woven into the story of the Nativity is the story of the Emperor Octavian and the Sibyl. As a result of the Sibyl's prophecy of the birth of Christ and a subsequent vision of a star in which he sees an image of Jesus, Octavian refuses the status of godhead offered by the Roman senators. The next play, the Adoration of the Shepherds, is largely humorous; but the humor leads to a didactic point. Three shepherds gorge themselves and invite their hot-tempered boy, Trowle, to enjoy the remains of their feast. He refuses, exchange insults with them, and winds up by throwing each of them in turn in a series of wrestling matches. Then the birth of Christ is proclaimed to the shepherds by an angel, who sings gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. After making a mangled attempt to reproduce the song, the shepherds visit the

78

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

stable, each of them presenting the infant Jesus with a homely gift. Their lives altered by the experience, they decide to become holy men. The contrast between the gluttony of the shepherds at the outset of the play and the life to which they aspire at the conclusion of it is impressive. Moreover, their personal relationship seems to exhibit a partial fulfilment of the peace and good will announced by the angel; for they all part with kisses, their quarrel forgotten. Two succeeding plays, the Adoration of the Magi and the Oblation of the Magi, present an obvious parallel and contrast to the Adoration of the Shepherds. At the outset of the first Magi play three kings, who are descendants of Balaam, pray for the star that their ancestor had prophesied. The star appears; and, like Octavian, they see an image of the Christ-child in it. An angel then comes to them and announces Christ's birth. The three kings set out to follow the star. Losing track of it, they are referred to Herod, who first scoffs at the idea of a king of the Jews and then calls on a learned Doctor in his court for information. The Doctor calls attention to various prophecies, among them one of David's which stated that kings would bear gifts to the Messiah. Herod sends the kings on their way, asking them to bring to him any information they might acquire. He begins to plot the destruction of Christ. In the second Magi play, the kings, after finding the stable, present their gifts, carefully pointing out the symbolic significance of each. The gold represents kingship; the incense, Godhead; and the myrrh, bodily death. The play concludes with the angel's warning that the kings should not return to Herod. The Slaying of the Innocents presents an interesting dramatization of divine retribution. The play opens with an angel's warning to Joseph to flee to Egypt. Herod has ordered the murder of all infant males. Then follows a scene in which two children are taken from the arms of two quarreling women and slain. Ironically enough, one of the women is the nurse of Herod's own son, who is thus one of the children killed by his father's decree. When Herod learns of the death of his son, he cries: "but it is vengeance, as drink I wyne, / and that is now well sene" (399-

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

79

400). But the vengeance is, we find, not complete. Herod goes on to say: Alas! what the devill! is this to mone? alas! my days be now done. I wott I must dye soone, for damned I must be. My legges rotten and my armes; I haue done so many harmes, that now I see of feendes swarmes from hell cominge for me. (417-424)

A demon arrives to carry his soul off to hell, and the play concludes with an angel's announcement to Joseph that it is safe to return to Judea. Telescoped in the Purification play, which we may pass over briefly, are Simon's acknowledgment of the divinity of Christ and the young Jesus' dispute with the doctors in the temple. In the Temptation play Satan muses on the mystery of Christ's goodness. He is worried about the possibility of Christ's being "God in mans kinde" (43) but decides that, since He hungers, He must not be God. Accordingly he sets out to seduce Him as he had seduced Adam. He suggests that Christ turn stones to bread to ease His hunger; invites Him to show His power by jumping off a high tower; and, finally, offers Him many royal realms in return for His allegiance and worship. All of these temptations Christ skillfully avoids, and the Expositor makes explicit the parallel to Adam: Loe! lordinges, Gods rigbteousnes, as St. Gregorie makes mynde expresse, since our forefather ouercomen was by three things to doe evill: Gluttony, vayne glorye there be twooe, Covetuousnes of highnes alsoe, by these three thinges, without moe, Christ hat ouercome the Devill. (161-168)

Appended to this episode is the story of Christ and the woman taken in adultery. Seeking either to make Christ break the law of Moses that says that all unclean women must be stoned or to

80

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

deny the doctrines of mercy that He has preached, two Jews take an adulteress to Christ for judgment. Whoever is without sin, He declares, should cast the first stone. When the Jews continue to press Him, Christ writes out their sins in the sand; and they flee. The woman, after being told to go and sin no more, gratefully acknowledges the divinity of Christ. Again a method may be discerned in the conjunction of two such episodes. Like Satan, the two Jews fail in their attempt to trap Christ; and we are shown a concrete example of the effect of the replacement of the old by the new law, an illustration of the impact on an individual of the triumph of Christ which nullified the defeat of Adam. Two episodes also make up the next play. The first one, the healing of the blind Chelidorius, symbolizes the light which Christ brings to a darkened world. The point is made explicitly at the outset of the play when Christ observes: "he that followeth me, walketh not in darknes, / but hath the light of l y f e . . . " (2-3). The second episode, the resurrection of Lazarus, seems meant to prefigure Christ's own resurrection and the harrowing of hell. In the story of Christ's visit to Simon the Leper, the subject of the next play, motivation is supplied for two succeeding plays, which deal respectively with the betrayal and crucifixion of Christ. While at Simon's house, Christ has his feet anointed by Mary Magdalene. Judas, treasurer of the disciples, is disturbed by the waste of money. He decides to get it back by betraying Jesus. Later, as a result of Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the disturbed Pharisees begin to look for a way to eliminate such a popular figure. Thus they are eager to accept Judas' offer. The Betrayal of Christ begins with the preparations for the Last Supper, at which Jesus tells the disciples: ffor know you now, the tyme is come that signes and shadows be all done; therfor make hast, that we may soone all figurs cleane reject.

(69-72)

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

81

Typology, that is to say, is about to be fulfilled. He goes on to explain that he is about to initiate a new law by sacrificing Himself for all of mankind. The first Communion is then held. The bread which the disciples share is His body; the wine, His blood. During the service Judas is exposed and sent on his way. When he returns with the soldiers, he betrays Christ with a kiss. At the beginning of the Passion Play the Jews succeed in forcing Pilate to order the Crucifixion. The following episodes are then dramatized: the casting of lots for the coat, the nailing of Christ to the cross, the agony of the Marys, the gloating of the chief Jews, the extension of mercy to the repentant thief, and, finally, Pilate's granting of the request of Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus to bury Jesus. After the description of the Crucifixion comes the play which dramatizes Christ's descent into Hell. John the Baptist, David, Isaiah, and others explain their predicaments and express their joy at the sight of the light which indicates the coming of Christ. Adam, we might note, in a brief speech again sums up the outline of God's design for humanity. Satan boasts that he is responsible for Christ's death; but his fellow demons, remembering the loss of Lazarus, are fearful of what is ahead. Finally Satan himself, bereft of many prisoners, comes to an understanding of the significance of Christ's visit: Adam, by my Intycement, and all his bloud through me were blent; and hence they shall all be hent and I in hell for aye. (173-176)

Those who are worthy are led away from Hell toward Paradise. They pass through the Garden of Eden; and Adam finds Enoch, Elias, and the good thief there. As the play ends, Elias explains the eschatological role he and Enoch are to perform at the coming of Antichrist. In the Resurrection play the guards posted by Pilate and Caiphas find themselves powerless to prevent the exit of Christ from the tomb and leave to report their failure to their masters. In the latter half of the play the Marys come mournfully to the

82

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

tomb where they find two angels who tell them Christ has risen; then the report of Jesus' Resurrection is circulated among the disciples. And Jesus makes his first appearance after the Resurrection to Mary Magdalen, who, unable to believe the truth, feared His body had been stolen. In the next play the motif of doubt about the Resurrection is further explored. Christ appears to two disciples, Lucas and Cleopas, who have heard of the Resurrection but find it difficult to believe. At first unrecognized, Jesus restores their confidence by summarizing the prophecies which predict the Resurrection. Upon being recognized, he disappears. He later appears to other disciples. Thomas finds the reports of his appearances difficult to believe. Then Christ appears again, and Thomas is convinced. At the conclusion of the play Christ announces that all those who are able to believe without seeing are blessed. And he says further that, at Judgment Day, those who have believed will be rewarded whereas those who have not will be punished. In the Ascension play, Christ, before leaving the earth, tells his disciples to preach His message. The next play tells the story of Pentecost. Because of Christ's promise the disciples assemble together and wait for the Holy Spirit. The play begins with a description of the fate of Judas, which had been prophesied by David. After the casting of lots to determine a replacement for Judas, the disciples pray for the blessing of the Holy Spirit. The prayer is heard and granted. The play concludes with each apostle paraphrasing in turn one of the twelve sections of the Apostle's Creed. Two long plays, which we will summarize quite briefly, make up the final section of the cycle, which is concerned with the dramatization of the fulfilment of Old and New Testament eschatological prophecy. The Antichrist play opens with a series of eschatological prophecies by Ezekiel, Zacharias, Daniel, and St. John. The Expositor explains the prophecies and then outlines the fifteen signs which, according to St. Jerome, were to fall before the Day of Judgment. The action of the play begins with the false conversion of four kings who are beguiled by the miracles of Antichrist. Enoch and Elias return and expose Anti-

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

83

christ. The kings are reconverted as a result, and Antichrist kills them and Enoch and Elias. The archangel Michael then appears and slays Antichrist, who is led off to Hell. Enoch and Elias are brought back to life and led by Michael to Paradise. The last play in the long cycle contrasts the final end of the saved with that of the damned. Christ returns to earth and calls all souls to judgment. We are shown first the judgments of a pope, an emperor, a king, and a queen; though all of them have been sinful, they achieve salvation because, through contrition, they were made eligible for the redemptive punishment of purgatory. The queen's experience is typical of the group; she observes: . . . great Repentance at the last hath gotten me to thy grace...

(159-160)

Sith I haue suffred woe and Teene, In Purgatory long to benne, let neuer my sinne be on me seene, but, lord, thou it forgett! This group is led to Heaven. A second group, consisting of a pope, emperor, king, queen, merchant, and judge, is not so fortunate. Their souls are claimed by the devils in the name of righteousness. Christ accedes; the time of grace is over. The play ends with a series of observations by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, who approve what has taken place and point out that ample warning was given the damned. Even so abrupt a summary as that which has just been presented cannot altogether hide the art with which the author of the Chester cycle has fashioned his plays. If the modern reader finds the construction of the plays naive, he misses the dramatic point not only of the plays individually but of the cycle in its entirety; he misses the way the form of the drama helps to create its meaning. The telescoping of various episodes or stories within a single play is done, for the most part, to call attention to a meaningful pattern that illustrates the rationality of the great drama of sin and salvation in which every human being participates. This lack of attention to the unities reflects a view of life

84

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

which is alien to the modem mind, but it is far from being naive. The same thing is true of the sturdy contemporary realism that is so much a part of the atmosphere of many of the plays in the cycle. This anachronistic enclosing of the contemporary and realistic within a Biblical and world-historical framework reflects, as Erich Auerbach observes, the spirit of the figural interpretation of history, which "implies that every occurrence, in all its everyday reality, is simultaneously a part in a worldhistorical context through which each part is related to every other, and thus is likewise to be regarded as being of all times or above all time".83 This perspective the author of the Chester cycle shares with the author of the Divine Comedy. But the focus of Dante's Comedy is clearly different from that of the mystery cycle: the one centers on the fate of a single individual while the other relates the history and forecasts the future of the whole human race. Another type of medieval drama, the English form of the morality play, has, with regard to structure, more in common with Dante's Comedy than the mystery cycle. The morality has been defined as "a dramatized allegory with didactic intent".84 In its simplest form the protagonist, an abstraction who represents all (or a good portion of) humanity, comes into the world, is tempted, and, ignoring the better side of his nature, succumbs to the blandishments of the flesh. Instead of being forced to submit at death to the everlasting punishment which should follow such a defection, however, the protagonist, because of repentance and remorse for the course he has followed, achieves salvation through the mercy of God. Obviously, the pattern of the moral play, like that of the mystery cycle, comes from the Church.85 The morality deals with numerous themes. 8S

Auerbach, op. cit., p. 156. Parrott and Ball, op. cit., pp. 16-17. 85 The origin of the morality play is conjectural. The earlier belief that the morality play was an offshoot of the mystery cycle is no longer considered valid. Many scholars connect the beginning of the morality with the medieval sermon. See, for example, G. R. Owst, Literature and Pulpit in Medieval England (Cambridge, the University Press, 1933), pp. 526-547. For a somewhat different view see Hardin Craig (op. cit., pp. 345-346). 84

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

85

Among the most common are: the Conflict of Virtues and Vices for the Soul of Man, the Debate of the Four Daughters of God, the Dance of Death, the Pilgrimage of the Life of Man, and the Debate between the Body and the Soul.8· What distinguishes the moral play from the mystery cycle, to speak in the most general terms, is a difference in focus. The mystery cycle depicts the events which have been most significant in the history of the race and which affect the course of every human life. The morality play, on the other hand, focuses on the life of an individual who represents all human beings. But, we should note, in order to understand the significance of the morality play, one must be aware of the implications of the stories that make up the mystery cycle.87 The pattern of the morality play - and here again we are speaking in the most general terms - is quite similar to the pattern upon which the structure of the Divine Comedy is based. In making such a statement, we must not, of course, attempt to minimize the great differences between the morality play and the Comedy. Before pursuing this point further, it might be well to examine the structure of The Castle of Perseverance, which has been called "the most typical specimen of the morality play".88 The prologue to The Castle of Perseverance contains an outline and explanation of the action of the play. After a prayer for the salvation of the king, the nobles and the common people, the flagbearers explain that every man at birth has free will to choose a course of life which will lead either to damnation or salvation. To help him make a choice he has two counselors, an 88

Craig, op. tit., pp. 339, 343. In this connection Professor Craig (ibid., p. 344) comments on the plot of the moral play as follows: "It is the plot of the microcosm over against that of the macrocosm to the representation of which the mystery play, based on the church services of the liturgical year and extending from Creation to Doomsday, is devoted, and the value and significance of the English morality is by this comparison greatly enhanced. Its principle is universality, and that principle is deducible from the vast history of man's fall and redemption." 88 Ε. N. S. Thompson, The English Moral Plays (= Transactions of the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences, Vol. XIV) (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1910), p. 312. 87

86

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

evil angel and a good angel. Each of these angels is backed up by a number of helpers. On the side of the Bad Angel are the World, the Flesh, the Devil, and their cohorts, the Seven Deadly Sins. Working for the Good Angel are Confession, Conscience, Penance, and the Seven Virtues. In this play, the audience is told further, Mankind first succumbs to temptation; then he is rescued by the forces of good, who place him in the Castle of Perseverance and fend off the desperate attacks of the army of evil; but Mankind allows Covetousness to seduce him away from the impregnable fortress of virtue, as a result of which he spends his old age in sin. It is in this state that Death finds him. Discovering that his wordly goods are of no avail - he does not even know to whom they will pass-, Mankind turns to God, crying: "Mercy, God! be now myn frende!" (116).89 And with that, we are told, "mans spyrt is paste" (117). This explained, the flagbearers come quickly to the main problem of the play: What is to be the fate of Mankind? The Bad Angel claims his soul for Hell; the Good Angel, however, noting the final cry for mercy, observes that, if the Virgin will intercede, Mankind will be allowed to go to Purgatory and thus, because of his confession and contribution, will achieve salvation through the grace of God. The Prologue concludes with an announcement of when and where these matters will be dramatized and a wish that Christ keep all listeners from the clutches of the devil. The first three scenes of the play provide an introduction to the forces of evil. In successive scenes the World, the Devil, and the Flesh explain their motives to the audience. We learn that the World has for his treasurer Sir Covetousness; that the Devil employs Pride, Envy, and Wrath; and that Flesh takes delight in the company of Gluttony, Lechery, and Sloth. The Flesh sums up the chief aim of the unholy three: . . . be-hold pe Werld, pe Deuyl, & Me! with all oure mythis, we kyngys thre, 89 This and all subsequent references are by line to the text of The Castle of Perseverance as printed in The Macro Plays, ed. F. J. Furnivall and A. W. Pollard ("Early English Text Society", extra series, Vol. XCI; London, Oxford University Press, 1924 [1904]).

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

nyth & day, besy we be, for to distroy Mankende . . .

87

(266-269)

The stage is thus set for the fourth scene, which probably takes place on the castle-green: the birth, temptation, and fall of Mankind. Attended by the Good Angel on his right and the Bad Angel on his left, Mankind makes his plight clear to the audience. Naked and helpless, he comes into the world as a piece of earth. Having the choice of following the Devil or Christ, he prays that he may follow the advice of the Good Angel. Then the first struggle for the possession of Mankind's soul takes place. The Good Angel praises him for his prayer and bids him to fix his thoughts on Christ, who renounced the things of this world and died on the cross for Mankind; the things of this world will fade, but always "per Christe syttyht, bryth as b l o d e . . . " (356). The Bad Angel calls such reasoning folly; he points out the sweetness of this world and urges Mankind to give up God's service and follow him. Mankinde hesitates - "as wynde in watyr I wave" (380) - and then casts his lot with the Bad Angel. The scene ends with the lament of the Good Angel, who knows that Mankind "for j>is gamyn & Jns g l e . . . schalt grocchyn & grone" (456-457). In the fifth scene the Bad Angel takes Mankind to the World. On the way they meet Pleasure, Liking, and Folly. After listening to what they have to offer him, Mankind again repudiates God and looks forward eagerly to his worldly life. Applauded by the World, he is invited to sit by that worthy and is given Pleasure, Liking, and Folly for servants. A confident Pleasure makes this observation about the future of Mankind: in lyckynge & lust he sohal rust, tyl dethys dust do hym to day

(639-642)

In the next scene Backbiter, the World's messenger, announces his character and purpose: As a specialist in flattery, slander, and duplicity, he is to teach Mankind the Seven Deadly Sins. Man-

88

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

kind is by now completely in the clutches of the World. Echoing the words of the World in Scene I Who-so spekyth a- jeyn pe werd, In a presun he schal be sperd (192-193) he proclaims: Who-so a-geyn pe werld wyl speke, Mankynde schal on hym be wreke; In stronge presun I schal hym steke, be it wronge or ryth. (751-754) Pleased, the World gives him, as it were, the keys of his kingdom. He is to be master in the house of Sir Covetousness; and Backbiter, who must never leave him, is to lead the way. As they set out for the domain of Covetousness, the Good Angel laments Mankind's defection and is ridiculed grossly by his counterpart. Backbiter introduces Mankind to Covetousness, who asserts his love for the victim and invites him to "cum up & se my ryche a-ray!" (833). Mankind is then indoctrinated into the catechism of avarice. After listening, he says: Coueytyse, as )x>u wylt, I wyl do. where-so pat I fare, be fenne or flod, I make a-vow, be Goddys blod, of Mankynde, getyth no man no good, but if he synge 'si dedero.' [I'll pay you back with profit] (878-882) This much of his soul corrupted, Mankind now is ready to receive the remainder of the Seven Deadly Sins. Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Lechery, and Sloth introduce themselves to him, and he accepts all they have to offer. Again the Good Angel laments failure of his mission while the Bad Angel exults over his success. But it is short-lived. Attracted by the sighs of the Good Angel, Shrift and Penance succeed in making Mankind realize the folly of his behavior. Mankind confesses his sins, asks for mercy,

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

89

and receives absolution. He is then taken to the Castle of Perseverance, wherein dwell the Seven Virtues, who proceed to indoctrinate him into a very different kind of philosophy from that to which he had been lately exposed. His soul cleansed, he delights in a merriment which contrasts greatly with that of the World, the Flesh, and the Devil: Lord! what man is in merry lyue Whanne he is of his synnys schreue! al my dol a-doun is dreue; Criste is myn counfort. (1571-1574)

Meanwhile consternation spreads through the ranks of evil. The Bad Angel sends word to the World, the Flesh, and the Devil that Mankind has defected. Each of these leaders first punishes his minions and then sends them out to rectify the situation. Urged on by the Bad Angel, the kings of evil unleash three separate assaults on the Castle of Perseverance. Before the attack begins, Mankind prays for strength to resist temptation, and the Good Angel calls on the virtues, represented by seven maidens, to defend Mankind. Belial sends forth Pride, Wrath, and Envy, who are, in turn, overcome by Meekness, Patience, and Charity. Each of the virtues triumphs by evoking an image of Christ, who Himself personified the virtues of meekness, patience, and charity. For weapons the virtues employ roses, symbols of Christ. Wrath, the last of the three vices to be beaten, cries: I am al betyn blak & bio with a rose pat on rode was rent (2220-21)

The Bad Angel, after foully abusing Belial and his followers for their failure, turns beseechingly to the Flesh, who sends out Gluttony, Lechery, and Sloth to lure Mankind away from the Castle. The lusty Anglo-Saxon boasts of this trio, however, prove no more efficacious than those of their predecessors in the strife as they bow to the superior power of Abstinence, Chastity, and Industry, all of whom find their strength in their reflections of the virtues of Christ and/or the Virgin.

90

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

Beside himself with rage and frustration I carpe, I crye, I coure, I kacke, I frete, I fart, I fesyl fowle! I loke lyke an howle (2506-2510) the Bad Angel curses the crew of Gluttony and turns, in desperation, to Sir World. Covetousness, bearing the banner of the World before him, approaches the Castle and engages Mankind in conversation. He urges Mankind to leave the ways of virtue and to acknowledge the fact that wealth will prove to be his best friend. In spite of the declaration of Generosity that Covetousness is at the root of all evil in the world, the protagonist of the drama, now in his old age, succumbs again to the blandishments of evil and descends for the second time into the arms of the world. Horrified, the Good Angel cries out to the virtues to save Mankind, but Meekness points out that God has granted him free will and Patience observes that the victim has only himself to blame: Resun wyl excusyn us alle: he helde pe ex be pe faelue J?ou he wyl to foly falle, it is to wytyn but hym selue. (2671-2674) The remainder of the virtues point out the folly of Mankind's exchanging his soul for the deceptive pleasures of this world. In response to these pious declarations the Bad Angel makes an obscene allusion and, once again exultant, succeeds in getting a statement of love from Mankind. Just as joyful as the Bad Angel over this development is the World, who promises to fail Mankind at his greatest need. Mankind proceeds to the Castle of Covetousness, convinced that it is the highest wisdom to lay up one's treasures on earth: I vow to God, it is gret husbondry: of pee I take f>ese noblys rownde. I schal me rapyn, & pat In hye,

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

to hyde J?is gold vnder j?e grownde per schal it ly tyl pat I dye; it may be kepte per saue & sownde.

91

(2840-2845)

The scene concludes with Mankind's avowal to abandon God for the sake of prosperity. The seventh scene marks the end of Mankind's complacence. Death enters; and, in a monologue which suggests the Dance of Death, observes that ultimately he brings sorrow to men of all degrees. It is time, he says, to teach Mankind a lesson. Upon being stricken by Death, Mankind calls on the World for help and is brutally repudiated: I wold j?ou were in pe erthe be-loke, & a-no per hadde fjyne erytage!

(2872-2873)

Then he learns that his possessions will go not to his family but to the World's Boy, who identifies himself as "I wot neuere who". At last, as he is dying, Mankind comes to his senses. He warns others to beware the mistake he had made. Convinced that the World is mad, Mankind is filled with remorse and repentance for the error of his ways. He knows now that ". . . as a flour, fadyth my face" (3001) and that "to helle I schal bothe fare & fie, / but God me graunte of his grace" (3002-3003). With his dying breath, he cries, "I putte me in Godys mercy" (3008). Mankind's soul then enters, reproaches his body for its stupidity, and turns to the Good Angel for help. But the Bad Angel claims what is due him, and the Good Angel is forced to admit that things are out of his hands. Justice decrees that Mankind must go to hell; only mercy can save him from eternal damnation. Mankind's soul picks up this hope: . . . holy wryt, it is ful wronge, but mercy pase alle Jsynge. (3063-3064)

After describing with obvious relish the punishments that await Mankind, the Bad Angel gleefully carries off his soul to hell. The stage is thus set in the last scene for the final conflict of

92

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

the play, the debate of Mercy and Peace with Truth and Justice before the throne of God. Truth and Justice, in separate speeches, contend that man deserves to go to hell. Truth observes that, should a man who has sinned all his life receive grace by virtue of a death-bed repentance, much harm would be done: for, schuld no man do no good, alle pe dayes of hys Iyve, but hope of mercy be pe rode, schulde make bof>e werre & styve, & tome to gret grewaunse.

(3169-3172)

Justice supports her sister by noting that, though Mankind had been absolved from original sin through baptism, he has "solwyd hes sovle with synys seuene / be his Badde Aungels comberaunce" (3421-3422). But Peace and Mercy, whose arguments are interspersed between those of their more rigid sisters, appeal to God's design for the universe in order to salvage the soul of Mankind. Mercy, pleading for Mankind's salvation, says that Mankind is repentant and that he has been punished for his misdeed in Purgatory: For werldly veyn-glory he hath ben ful sory, Punchyd in purgatory for aft pe synnys seuene.

(3336-3340)

And, most significantly, she calls attention to the divine pattern: N e had Adam synnyd here be-fore, & pi hestis in paradys had offent, Neuere of pi moder J?ou schuldyst a be bore, Fro heuene to erthe to haue be sent.

(3341-3344) The suffering of Christ and the meaning of that suffering is called to mind: a knyt, with a spere so smert, whanne J?ou forgafe pi fomen jjrall, he stonge pe Lord vn-to pe hert.

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

93

})anne watyr & blod gan ovte wall pe watyr or Baptoum, Aqua bap [t]ismatis & sanguis redempcionis. pe blod of redempcious, pat fro pin herte ran doun, est causa saluacionis. (3358-3366)

The least drop of the blood that was shed on the Cross, maintains Mercy, is enough to grant remission for the sins of man. And Peace, backing her sister, also calls attention to God's plan for Mankind: For whanne J?ou madyst erthe y hevyn, Ten orderis of aungelys to ben in blys, Lucyfer, lyter panne pe leuyn, tyl whanne he synnyd, he fel I-wys. to restore pat place Ful evyn, )JOU madyst Manlynde with J?ys, to Fylle pat place J>at I dyd nevene if py wyl be resun it is, In pas & rest, amonge j?yne aungels bryth, to worcep pee In syth, graunt, Lord God al-myth! & so I holde it best. (3497-3509)

The arguments of Peace and Mercy prevail. God orders the four sisters to rescue Mankind from the Devil. After asking for and receiving mercy, Mankind is placed at the right hand of God; and the play ends with a speech in which God warns men to think on their ending. At the Last Judgment, he points out, "whanne Myhel his horn blowith at my dred dom" (3618), all the world will be called to an accounting. And: Jjei pat wel do in J?is werld here, welthe schal a-wake; Infaeuenepei schal geynyd [be] in bounte & [in] blys; & pei pat evyl do, pei schul to helle lake, In bytter balys to be b r e n t . . . (3638-41)

Though the structural pattern of The Castle is complicated by two falls from grace, the action pattern of its protagonist, gener-

94

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

ally speaking, may be regarded as typical of the theological morality play. This pattern begins with a temptation that leads to sin and a consequent plummeting from grace, a movement that implicitly associates the protagonist's fall with the earlier falls of Satan and Adam. The path back to grace begins with the remorse which comes with the realization of the consequences of sin, and culminates in confession and repentance. This movement is made possible by the sacrifice of Christ; thus full pardon can be granted to the protagonist after a period of penance. The focus of The Castle of Perseverance is on divine mercy. The elaborate depiction of Mankind's blindness, frailty, and perversity seems designed to illuminate the awe-inspiring generosity which God exhibits at the conclusion of the play. When Mankind first falls away from his vow to cling to the protection of the Good Angel, we see, as Willard Farnham observes, that "mortal life by its very nature is an insidious blindness and a heady drunkenness to the ordinary human soul. . .".90 And we see through Mankind's second fall the awesome responsibility of a will which is free. Even more appalling, however, than the acts of defection is the extent to which a human being can become indoctrinated in evil. Parrot-like, after his first fall, Mankind echoes the philosophy of the World. And after his second fall, he can find it in his heart to agree that he will never give anything except for profit. All this in the face of the knowledge of virtue and what it means. One hardly know whether to laugh or cry. For in implicit contrast with the compulsion for greed which extends its icy tentacles across Mankind's heart is the motive which led Christ to the Cross - the action which ultimately makes Mankind's salvation possible. The theme of a barely-deserved mercy extended to sinful man by an all-wise and all-forgiving God is one which the Divine Comedy and The Castle of Perseverance have in common. The perfect blending of the motifs of justice and mercy which we found in the Divine Comedy is, however, not as clearly pre00 Willard Farnham, The Medieval Heritage of Elizabethan (Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1956), p. 189.

Tragedy

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

95

sented in The Castle of Perseverance. Nevertheless, it is apparent that the motif of retribution plays a significant part in the structure of this work. It certainly seems appropriately ironic, for example, that the World, for whom Mankind has mortgaged his soul, should brutally reject his appeal for help and that his possessions, for which he has denied God, should go not to his wife and family but to "I wot neuere whoo". And we must not forget the fact that the soul of Mankind is purified in the torments of purgatory before he is admitted to heaven. Though the pattern of retributive justice is not as graphically presented in The Castle as it is in the Divine Comedy, the structures of the two works are based on similar patterns. Such a similarity is due, of course, only to the fact that both works are a product of the same thought-pattern. Each presents a protagonist who represents Everyman and whose life and destiny must be understood in the light of the Christian interpretation of certain events in human history which are set forth in the Old and New Testaments. (The more comprehensive structure of the mystery cycle, one might say, provides an illuminating background for the Divine Comedy as well as for The Castle of Perseverance.) Because the main action of each begins in an adversity which reflects the state of sin or damnation in the Christian scheme of things and ends in a prosperity which reflects the state of Christian grace, they may both be considered comedies in the medieval Christian sense.91 And, we may say further, any literary 91 Obviously, even a cursory examination of the two works reveals more differences than similarities. Dante's application of the theological pattern that explains the human predicament was non-dramatic. Consequently, whereas the dramatic conflict for the soul of man that takes place in The Castle of Perseverance informs the body of that work, a conflict which is similar in meaning, Dante's struggle to overcome his evil habits, makes up the introductory part of the Divine Comedy. Moreover, the body of the Comedy is devoted to a description of Dante's symbolic journey through the other world while Mankind's ascent from Purgatory to Heaven is probably best described as part of the denouement of The Castle of Perseverance. In spite of these and other differences, the general points that have been made concerning the similarities between the Comedy and The Castle are pertinent to our attempt to substantiate Nevill Coghill's theory about the connection of certain Shakespearian plays to Dante's Comedy.

96

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

work based on a similar pattern may be considered a comedy in this sense. What, then, of the problem of typology or the figurative view of human history? We have compared, in this connection, the perspective of the author of the Chester cycle with that of Dante. Both authors see events widely separated in time as reflecting the significance of a rational framework designed by God. But a close examination reveals a difference between the typology of Dante and that of the Chester master. The structure of the Chester cycle, as we have seen, is based to a certain extent on the allegory of the theologians. This allegory, however, is not the same kind of allegory which is operative in the central action of the Comedy. For the protagonist of the Comedy is an individual who comes after, not before, Christ. Since he represents Everyman, the salvation which he achieves is meant to be seen as a figure of that which is open to all mankind, a salvation which reflects, on the allegorical or Christological level, the significance of the sacrifice of Christ. And the repentance which alters the course of his life also prefigures, anagogically or eschatologically, the bliss which is to come to all the repentant. The anagogical level of interpretention here, as in orthodox theological allegory, is inextricably bound up with the allegorical or Christological sense. Typology, in this Dantean perspective, may be applied to any work which resembles the Divine Comedy in form and meaning because this kind of interpretation is neither strained nor artificial; it is an integral part of the structure of Christian thought. Though it would be foolish to say that the author of The Castle of Perseverance wished to have his work interpreted on four levels, it is not foolish to suggest that the story of Mankind's temptation, fall, remorse, and salvation contains a moral, Christological, and eschatological significance. Nor is it foolish to suggest that any story following such a pattern contains these implications. No one would deny the influence of the mystery and morality plays on Elizabethan drama in general and on Shakespeare in particular. In this chapter I have tried to indicate a connection

"DIVINE COMEDY", MORALITY PLAY, MYSTERY CYCLE

97

between certain significant elements in the dramatic tradition which the Elizabethans inherited and built on and Dante's Divine Comedy. What we must now determine is the extent to which these elements influence the form and meaning of Shakespeare's problem plays. Let us begin with Hamlet.

ΠΙ. HAMLET

As a result of the pioneer work done by such scholars as Theodore Spencer in Shakespeare and the Nature of Man1 and Ε. M. W. Tillyard in The Elizabethan World Picture,9 interpreters of Shakespeare's tragedies have become increasingly aware of the tremendous influence the Christian legacy of the medieval period played in shaping Shakespeare's creative imagination. Recent critics have made notable contributions to our understanding of those Shakespearean tragedies which evolve from the Christian thought pattern. While the insights of such an early critic as Andrew Bradley into the nature of Shakespearean tragedy have not, by any means, been absolutely nullified as a consequence of the new understanding, they have been sharpened, amplified, enriched, and deepened. For Bradley was only partially aware of the Christian pattern in some of the tragedies and almost completely unaware of the implications which such an extra dimension entails so far as the meaning and structure of a tragedy is concerned. Paul Siegel, for example, who discussses the great tradegies - Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth, Othello - from the standpoint of the Christian humanistic framework which so clearly holds the key to their meaning, observes that Bradley, "although misled by the mistaken notion of his time that Elizabethan thought and Elizabethan drama were 'almost wholly secular' . .., hovered on the brink of understanding the Christian 1 Theodore Spencer, Shakespeare and the Nature of Man (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1942). 2 Ε. M. W. Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1944).

99

"HAMLET" 3

implications of Shakespearean tragedy . . .". For Bradley saw in Shakespeare's great tragedies implications that, to use his own words, "the tragic world . . . is no final reality, but only a part of reality taken for the whole, and, when so taken, illusive; and that if we could see the whole, and the tragic facts in their true place in it, we should find them, not abolished, of course, but so transmuted that they had ceased to be strictly tragic.. .".4 But, he went on to note, "if this idea were made explicit and accompanied our reading of a tragedy throughout, it would confuse or even destroy the tragic impression... [as] would the constant presence of Christian belief'. 5 The fact is, however, that in Shakespeare's major tragedies the presence of a Christian pattern is indeed constant though seldom explicit. Nevertheless, the intimation of a reward in the afterlife for a relatively innocent hero like Hamlet, as we shall see, does not obscure the sense of tragic waste we feel in contemplating his life. Before justifying this statement we must explore the grounds for considering Hamlet Christian, and it seems well to begin with a statement of Siegel's concerning Shakespeare's technique in the Christian tragedies: Concerned though Shakespeare's humanist drama is with the passions and struggles of human individuals rather than with the oppositions of allegorical figures, his characters, following the old patterns of temptation, sin, and retribution and of sin, repentance, and salvation, often are implicitly or explicitly compared with the biblical archetypes of erring humanity, diabolical evil, and divine goodness. In the Elizabethan homilies Adam's disobedience of God, Lucifer's rebellion against Him, and Christ's sacrifice for the sake of mankind were repeatedly presented as basic patterns whioh men followed in their conduct. Writing for an audience accustomed to think in such terms of biblical analogy, Shakespeare was able through figurative language and allusions to suggest analogies in the course of 'his tragedies of human passion that gave them a deeper significance. The tragedies do not, however, contain within themselves elaborate and consistent systems of equivalences; Shakespeare's method, as in the history 8 Paul N. Siegel, Shakespearean Tragedy and the Elizabethan Compromise (New York, New York University Press, 1957). 4 Ibid., quoted by Siegel from Bradley's Shakespearean Tragedy. s Ibid.

100

"HAMLET"

plays, was like that of the Christian humanists in using the analogies between the various hierarchies of nature rather than allegorizing nature in detail." Critics like Paul Siegel, Maynard Mack,7 and, more recently, J. A. Bryant 8 have, by examining the Christian elements in Hamlet, succeeded in explaining much that had before seemed either inexplicable or resolvable only by the most ingenious and contrived interpretations. Yet as fine as their interpretations are and I am happy to acknowledge my indebtedness to them they do not, I believe, recognize the full extent of the subtlety and complexity of Shakespeare's deployment of biblical analogy in the play. Moreover, they neglect to make an important connection between Shakespeare's use of psychology and theology. Perhaps by suggesting the implications of Shakespeare's use of biblical analogy and by pointing out the way in which he has brought together renaissance psychology and theology in the structure of this drama, we will be able to move toward a better understanding of the mystery which is at the heart of Hamlet. In spite of Siegel's fine statement of the significance of biblical analogy in Shakespeare's tragedies, his own analysis of Hamlet suffers because he overlooks the implications of two extremely significant analogues. One of these analogues is made explicit by Claudius in the prayer scene when, torn by the anguish of his desire for a repentance he is unable to achieve, he calls attention to the "primal eldest curse", "a brother's murder" (III, iii, 3738),9 that weighs heavy on his soul.10 A much less exact but more « Ibid., pp. 88-89. 7 Maynard Mack, "The World of Hamlet", Shakespeare: Modern Essays in Criticism, ed. Leonard F. Dean (New York, Oxford University Press, 1961), pp. 237-257. 8 J. A. Bryant, Jr., "Hamlet", Hippolyta's View: Some Christian Aspects of Shakespeare's Plays (University of Kentucky Press, 1961), pp. 116-138. * All phrases and passages quoted from Shakespeare's plays are taken from Hardin Craig's The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Chicago, Scott, Foresmann & Co., 1951). 10 Professor Bryant has made this analogy the basis of his interpretation of Hamlet, several ideas of which anticipated points made in a first draft of this chapter. But, though Bryant finds much of the meaning of the play to stem implicitly from the problem of original sin, he does not seem to be aware of the significance of the allusion to the serpent in the garden

"HAMLET"

101

suggestive and complex analogy between Claudius' sin and biblical story is presented in the first act when the Ghost tells Hamlet that the serpent in the orchard was his uncle. Maynard Mack, who is, so far as I am aware, the only critic who has touched on the implications of this analogy, stands on the threshold of an idea which, if completely worked out, might furnish a significant insight into Shakespeare's use of Christian material. After noting that Ophelia's speech beginning "O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!" points up the contrast between what Hamlet was and what he has become, and relating that contrast to Gertrude's "falling off" - and, as a matter of fact, Ophelia's too - he states: Time was, the play keeps reminding us, when Denmark was a different place. That was before Hamlet's mother took off "the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love" and set a blister there. Hamlet then was still "th' expectancy and rose of the fair state"; Ophelia, the "rose of May." For Denmark was a garden then, when his father ruled. There had been something heroic about his father a king who met the threats to Denmark in open battle, fought with Norway, smote the sledded Polacks on the ice, slew the elder Fortinbras in an honorable trial of strength. There had been something godlike about his father too: "Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like M a r s . . ., A station like the herald Mercury." But, the ghost reveals, a serpent was in the garden, and "the serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown." The martial virtues are put by now. The threats to Denmark are attended to by policy, by agents working deviously for and through an uncle. The moral virtues are put by too. Hyperion's throne is occupied by a "vice of kings," "a king of shreds and patches"; Hyperion's bed, by a satyr, a paddock, a bat, a gib, a bloat king with reechy kisses. The garden is unweeded now, and "grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely." Even in himself he feels the and, consequently, to the way in which Shakespeare blends the connotations of this analogue with the Cain-Abel analogue to intensify and clarify the meaning of Hamlet. He sees, in this connection, only that "The fault which has brought Hamlet to his tragic pass differs in no essential way from the fault that cost Adam his Paradise and brought death into the world, and it differs in no essential way from the countless repetitions of the Fall that take place daily in men's insubordinate lives" (p. 135). The implications of original sin, as I hope to show, are wound into the play far more deeply than this.

102

"HAMLET"

taint, the taint of being his mother's son; and that other taint, from an earlier garden, of which he admonishes Ophelia: "Our virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it." "Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners?" "What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?"11 Mack goes on to say that Hamlet exemplifies the human predicament of representing an image of God which, at the same time, bears the stamp of the old Adam. 12 Once one has grasped the implications of the garden analogy - and as suggestive as Mack's paragraph is, he fails to make pointed enough the impact and ramifications of the analogy18 many elements in the play begin to fall in place. The presence of the serpent in the Danish orchard suggests the presence of the original serpent in a garden well-known to the Elizabethans - just as well-known perhaps in our day but not as well-understood and brings to the fore the problems and the effects of original sin. The wake of deaths that follows Claudius' crime serves, it would seem, as a grim reminder of the effect of the first great sin; for that matter, it is not merely human beings who must die as a result of the poison of sin seeping through the veins of the body politic of Denmark but a whole order as well. The educated part of Shakespeare's Elizabethan audience, knowing full well that God had created the world sound, would also understand the significance of the recurrent references to the themes of mutability and the disparity between appearance and reality. For Shakespeare has emphasized the contrast between the 11

Mack, op. cit., pp. 251-252. Ibid., p. 252. 13 In this paragraph Mack presents, with the exception of the CainAbel allusion, most of the important raw material of the biblical allusions Shakespeare weaves into the play, but he does not probe into the way they work. From these allusions, for example, he derives only the significance of the manner in which the idea of the general taint operated on Hamlet's mind and kept him from acting. He does not appear to be aware of the implied connection between the sins of Gertrude and of Eve. Only when this parallel is observed can we understand fully the thematic significance of the serpent-orchard allusion. Perhaps I quibble, but to say, as Professor Mack does, that Hamlet "feels in himself the taint of being his mother's son . . . and that other taint, from an earlier garden" is, it seems to me, to miss a rather exciting dramatic point. 12

"HAMLET"

103

Denmark of old Hamlet and the Denmark of Claudius by presenting it in terms of the contrast between pre- and postlapsarian man. Which is not to say that we are meant to think of old Hamlet's reign as being actually the garden period of man's existence: Allegory is not at work here; old Hamlet, we know, was not a perfect man. But we are, by means of the parallel, meant to feel keenly the contrast between the normal and the abnormal: i.e., the effect of the transition from a normal to an abnormal order is intensified by the reminder of the first transition and its consequences. Such a feeling is evoked by an implicit comparison of the crime in Denmark to the acts which cracked the frame of an earlier and happier order of existence. Blended together in a superb alchemy of art, the serpent's poison and its most horrible result, the first death, are represented in Claudius' sin. His action thus brings clearly to mind the origin of all such actions and consequently the problem of man's position in a corrupted universe. But if Claudius suggests both the serpent and Cain, and the problems of Denmark the problems of postlapsarian man, what of Gertrude? Here also the Ghost's words supply the key. About the queen he says, "O what a falling off was there . .." (IV, v, 47). Gertrude has fallen from a higher to a lower love: She has allowed her passions to obscure her reason. Her marriage to old Hamlet was within the pale, a spiritual union (as the Ghost points out) which acknowledged the presence of God's law in the world; by marrying her brother-in-law, however, she has flouted God's law, for this kind of union was considered incestuous (cf. I, ii, 156-157). And, if we may believe Hamlet and his father, the union was a result of feelings more physical than spiritual. The fall of Gertrude, then, appears to provide an oblique parallel to that of Eve, who chose, in allowing herself to be seduced by the serpent, to ignore her higher faculties and follow the demands of her desires. In this connection it is interesting to note an allusion which Hamlet makes in the closet scene; lacerating his mother for the unchaste desires which have led her to the marriage with Claudius, he cries:

104

"HAMLET"

. . . What devil was't That thus hath cozen'd you at hood-man blind? (Ill, iv, 76-77) If this reasoning is sound, Hamlet's comparison of his mother's godlike former husband, who had the characteristics of Jove, Mars, Hyperion, and Mercury, to the degenerate human being who now shares her bed also seems to take on an extra dimension in meaning. Just as old Hamlet seemed like a god - particularly when compared to Claudius; so Adam seemed like a god once - particularly when his original condition was compared to his fallen position or to the state of his descendants, all of whom are the debilitated products of a new order introduced by sin. In each case - Adam in the garden, God's vice-regent in Denmark - the image of God in man has been horribly distorted by sin. The parallel is not exact, of course, because of the way two analogies have been telescoped into one action; but the focus of the references to degeneracy and divinity is clear. When we are introduced to Gertrude, she is still queen of Denmark; because of what happened in the orchard, however, we find that it is a Denmark far different from that which she once helped to rule, and just as important as this difference in the Danish garden is the difference we find in the characters of her first and second husbands and in the nature of the sexual relationship she has had with them. What Shakespeare has done, then, is to blend together in one action the cluster of associations that surround the two stories in the Bible which explain the origin of sin and disorder, murder and death. The world of Hamlet thus becomes one in which the problem and consequences of original sin are delineated and explored anew in a way of which only great art is capable. From this point of departure one can better approach not only the intellectual pattern of the play but also the character of Hamlet. As a matter of fact, since the two are practically synonymous for it is the character of Hamlet which governs or creates, to a large extent, the framework of the play - it is important that we investigate his part in the play before attempting to make any statement about the framework of a Christian tragedy. The key to Hamlet's position in the play is given in a speech

"HAMLET"

105

by Laertes, who, in warning his sister not to trust Hamlet's professions of love, observes: . . . his will is not his own For he himself is subject to his birth: He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The sanity and health of this whole state . . . (I, ii, 17-21: the italics are mine)

Occurring in the scene immediately following Horatio's disclosure to Hamlet that a spirit in the form of his father has appeared and immediately preceding the scene of the meeting between Hamlet and the Ghost, these words have a depth of meaning of which the speaker is unaware. Though Hamlet is in no way responsible for the poison that flows through the veins of the body politic, he must provide the antidote. In assuming such a responsibility, Hamlet, according to Paul Siegel, endures a period of suffering and a death that suggest the passion of Christ.14 But even if this conjecture carries interpretive weight - if, for example, the effect of Hamlet's final action in the play brings to mind the effect of Christ's action of atonement - , it is clear that Hamlet is not meant to be an allegorical representation of Christ any more than Denmark in pre-Claudian times is meant to represent allegorically the Garden of Eden. Hamlet is a young man quite human, and it is because of his human frailty that he suffers, not because he willingly shoulders the sins of the human race. Professor Bryant calls him "the human, fallible, blind, tragic counterpart of the Christ who was knowingly both the scourge of evil and the sacrificial victim who willingly took that evil upon himself".16 However this may be, because Hamlet is indeed a blind and fallible human being, the death which comes to him is not undeserved; for though he is not responsible for the sin in Denmark, he becomes implicated in it. An examination of the circumstances of his implication should help to clarify the problem of Hamlet's character and to illuminate the structural pattern of the play. 14 15

Siegel, op. cit., p. 97. Bryant, op. cit., p. 121.

106

"HAMLET"

To understand the nature of Hamlet's sin we must look rather closely at the Ghost's instructions.16 Hamlet is told to put an end to luxury and incest in Denmark, but this is not all. Two important admonitions are appended to the central command: But, howsoever thou pursuest this act. Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught: Leave her to heaven... (I, v, 84-86)

The tone of these instructions indicates their divine origin. Hamlet has been chosen - and he is after all the logical choice — to be a minister of God, to execute God's vengeance; but such a mission must be performed without personal passion. Otherwise the minister himself will share in the general guilt, for the revenge will be not divine, but human. Hamlet is unable to comply with the terms. Already deep in melancholy, he falls, after the first appearance of the Ghost, into adustian passion, the effects of which have been explained by Miss Lily B. Campbell, who, citing Thomas Wright, points out what to the men of the renaissance were the four main consequences of inordinate passions: "(1) blindness of understanding, (2) perversion of the will, (3) alteration of humours, and (4) maladies and diseases together with troublesomeness or disquietness of the soul".17 Each of these effects - with the 16 Ibid., pp. 123-128. See Bryant's excellent summary of the problem of the Ghost with which, as he says, a great part of the criticism of Hamlet has been concerned. Do the Ghost's instructions have divine sanction? Like Bryant, I would, in answering such a question, call attention to the two caveats which, as he points out, justify our calling these instructions a commission and which radically alter the revenge complexion of the situation (p. 123). This position is further supported, as Bryant observes, by Msgr. I. J. Semper, who, in Hamlet without Tears, cites Thomas Aquinas' explanation of the special circumstances which make virtuous vengeance possible, thereby substantiating the integrity of the Ghost and the binding nature of Hamlet's commission (pp. 116-117, 125-126); and by Fredson Bowers, who, in "Hamlet as Minister and Scourge", PMLA, LXX (1955), 740-749, relates the difference between divine and human vengeance to the distinction between a minister and a scourge of God (p. 129). 17 Lily B. Campbell, Shakespeare's Tragic Heroes: Slaves of Passion (New York, Barnes & Noble, 1959), p. 76.

"HAMLET"

107

exception of physical disease - may be clearly seen in the young prince of Denmark. That the Ghost was aware of the dangers that lay ahead for Hamlet is shown in the way he linked the two injunctions to his principal command: Tain not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught... Hamlet is unable to carry out the Ghost's command to revenge his death and put an end to luxury and incest in Denmark because he allows his mind to become tainted with passion. And this passion springs from his inability to bear the knowledge of his mother's implication in the rottenness that is at the heart of Denmark. One does not have to don the Freudian bifocals to understand Hamlet's obsession with the nature of his mother's sin, an obsession which drives him to tell Ophelia that she should not have believed his former professions of love - "for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it" to order her to a nunnery so that she should not be a breeder of sinners, to say that he could accuse himself of such things that it were better his mother had not borne him, to announce that there will be no more marriages, and, finally, to assert that knowledge of female wantonness has made him mad. (See III, i, 118-157.)

All of this we can well understand and sympathize with when we remember that Gertrude's sin parallels the sin of Eve, thereby bringing all the closer to Hamlet's conscience the awareness of the depravity which he himself has inherited and which every man carries into the world as a legacy from his immediate as well as his first parents. Hamlet's god-like reason "fusts"; it is not equal to the emotional burden of such knowledge - knowledge all the more painful because of the brutal way it has been thrust upon him. It is, then, his obsession with the implications of original sin that engulfs him with the unnatural passion that causes him to neglect his father's commands - the passion that blinds his understanding, perverts his will, and diseases his soul. Hamlet's understanding is dimmed as he sinks into an abyss

108

"HAMLET"

of cynicism, despair, and misanthropy. Thus he is unable to accept the role cut out for him by destiny because he is unable to accept the human condition: ". . . man delights not me. .." (II, ii, 322). His mind becomes earth-centered, contracted into one pulsating and searing idea: Man is depraved. As a result of this theological and philosophical myopia, he loses sight of the larger reality, the place of Providence in human affairs. He is, as Mack says, "too quick to take the burden of the whole world and its condition upon his limited and finite self".18 This blindness of understanding provides the chief connection between the psychological basis of Hamlet's malady and the theological structure of the play.19 Closely linked to this consequence of his passion are such effects as alteration of humors, disquietness of soul, and perversion of will. Enough information is given us during the course of the play to indicate that the theater-loving "rose of the fair state" was not naturally of the melancholy humor. As a result of the passion which grips him, what was apparently his natural disposition, the sanguine, becomes distorted into the adustian state. Hence the terrible unrest of his mind and soul. And hence the perversion of his will, an effect which explains his inability to 18

Mack, op. cit., p. 255. So far as I know, this connection has not been pointed out. Miss Campbell's analysis of Hamlet's malady, based on her study of Elizabethan theories of psychology, seems to me to be borne out by the text of the play; but, unfortunately, she is led by her research into an unnecessary constriction of the massive theme at the core of Hamlet: She sees the "fundamental problem that Shakespeare undertook to answer in Hamlet... [to be] the problem of the way men accept sorrow when it comes to them" (p. 110). Though she does observe, interestingly enough, in commenting on one of the suicide soliloquies, that Hamlet, by feeding his melancholy with the contemplation of his mother's frailty, is "following the accepted formula of being brought to a loathing of the world, to a condition where he takes delight only in increasing his melancholy, and to a desire to kill himself to escape such a world" (p. 119), she is not aware of the idea of original sin which lies back of Hamlet's obsession with the frailty of Gertrude. On the other hand, though both Mack and Bryant are aware in a general fashion of the implications of the original sin motif - Mack much more directly than Bryant - neither makes use of the knowledge of Elizabethan psychology which Miss Campbell presents. All three critics, then, miss an important hinge in the craftsmanship of Hamlet. 18

"HAMLET"

109

carry out the personal revenge he desires. This inability to take effective action, as everyone knows, torments Hamlet as much as it has troubled critics down through the centuries. Upon observing the mock passion of the first player, the prince bitterly reproaches himself for his dullness: What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have?

(II, ii, 586-588)

And later, watching the soldiers of Fortinbras march to war, still in a quandary, he says: . . . I do not know Why yet I live to say "This thing's to do"; Sith I have cause and1 will and strength and means To do't. (IV, iv, 44-47) Such corrosion of the will and the puzzlement attendant on it are characteristic of his malady. The first reason for his delay, however, is understandable enough. Elizabethan theories about ghosts allowed a complicating element which might well halt hasty action.20 Hamlet was 20

Ibid., pp. 121-128. Miss Campbell points out that Shakespeare has presented the Ghost in such a way that the three prominent Elizabethan theories about ghosts are represented. The Catholics believed that ghosts were the spirits of the dead who were allowed to return for a time from purgatory; the Protestants that they were tools of the devil employed to entice human beings to destruction; and the scientific "naturalists" that they were a figment of the imagination, a product of the melancholy that was akin to madness (p. 121). Shakespeare, in order to increase the dramatic tension of the play, has skillfully allowed a certain ambiguity to play about the Ghost. As Miss Campbell says, " . . . if a Papist and King James and Timothy Bright had seen the play, as they all probably did, each would have gone home confirmed in his own opinion about ghosts" (p. 128). Nevertheless, it seems to me that, from the context of the play, we may believe without any difficulty in the honesty of the Ghost's assertion that he is from purgatory. Such a belief may be further strengthened by the research of Miss Campbell, who finds that, according to Papist teaching, there were four tests to distinguish good from bad spirits: (1) the good spirits at first frighten men but later comfort them; (2) the outward appearance of the ghost indicates his nature, and the voice of the good ghost will be sober, sorrowful, etc., not terrible and full of reproach; (3) the

110

"HAMLET"

afraid that the Ghost might not be "honest", that the devil might be preying upon his melancholy and weakness in order to damn him. He therefore determines to test the Ghost by testing the king: "I'll have grounds / More relative than this: the play's the thing / Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king" (II, ii, 632634). But when we next see Hamlet, he is contemplating suicide and is apparently deterred only by the fear of an evil in death worse than life. This toying with suicide indicates his desire to evade the responsibilities of his role in a world in which he can no longer believe; and his lack of belief, as the brutal interview with Ophelia (which immediately follows the "To be or not to be" soliloquy) reveals, springs directly from his awareness of his mother's sin. Why marry to breed sinners? Why obey a father's voice from beyond the grave? Why accept duty or responsibility? Why live? Hamlet, however, does set his trap, and it works. He gets his proof. There is no longer any reason to doubt the authenticity of the Ghost. But after he has cleared his mind of any reasonable doubt about the nature of his commission, he fails to take advantage of the one real opportunity he has to carry out the Ghost's instructions. Finding the king alone at prayer, he refuses to act, reasoning away his opportunity in this fashion: To kill the king in the act of prayer would be possibly to send him to heaven and to forestall a complete revenge. Thus reason serves the cause of personal passion. His motive for restraining himself from a divinely ordered revenge which would also purge the state is not a product of illuminated thinking. For he conceives of his role of avenger solely on the personal level, and his line of reasoning suggests both the revenger's code and Old Testament doctrine: an eye for an eye, a soul for a soul. Here, as Mack says, "Hamlet has sought to play at God".21 Here, I take good ghost does not attempt to disguise sins committed on earth; (4) his teaching conforms to that of the apostles and church (pp. 123-124). As to whether the Ghost successfully passes these tests, Miss Campbell has doubts about only the last cited; and if the research of Semper and Bower (see footnote 16 above) can be accepted, certainly we may, like Hamlet, "take the ghost's word for a thousand pound". 21 Mack, op. cit., p. 255.

"HAMLET"

111

it, as a result of the poisonous emotion which obscures his reason and darkens his sight, he reaches the height of a blind hubris which is to lead him almost into the jaws of damnation.22 The irony and folly of his misinterpretation of his role are dramatically revealed after his exit, for the king cries out in anguish: "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below / Words without thoughts never to heaven go" (III, iii, 97-98). This action - or lack of it - , so far as the character of Hamlet is concerned, is the turning point of the play.23 Because he has been unable to keep his reason clear, because he has so tragically, in the excess of his passion, lost sight of the governance of God in human affairs, Hamlet leads himself and Denmark into further misery. More sin, more suffering, more death - these are the bitter fruits of his failure to carry out the mission entrusted to him. Thus all occasions seem to conspire against him, and the evil lurking beneath the polished exterior of the Danish court is not destroyed but compounded. For the blind reasoning in the prayer scene which keeps him from an action which would purge Denmark is clearly paralleled by the blind action in the closet scene which implicates him in the rottenness at the core of Denmark. The sudden, irrational thrust through the tapestry illustrates well the benighted and befogged condition of the young prince's mind. And, as a result, a new chain of deaths is unfolded - Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, Laertes. Hamlet, then, though given the opportunity to be a minister of God, has become instead a scourge of God, a strong link in the chain of evil and accident deriving ultimately from the one great "original sin" of Claudius. This preponderance of mishap and misinterpretation - this stumbling a The adustion passion keeps Hamlet from taking effective action, and it also prevents him from approaching his task in the right frame of mind. Thus his reasoning in the prayer scene, like his bitter comment on the passion of the first player (Π, ii, 586-588), suggests the consequences of his disability. 23 Cf. Bryant, op. cit., p. 128: "The prayer scene constitutes the climax in the action of the play. What happens there is both the logical consequence of Hamlet's faulty understanding of the business he is about and the immediate cause of everything that comes afterward."

112

"HAMLET"

through the dark - is the effect of human frailty, of man's basic imperfection. The murder of Polonius represents the nadir of Hamlet's descent into passion, a descent which was hastened by the first appearance of the Ghost. The second appearance of the Ghost, however, marks the beginning of Hamlet's regeneration. While the prince is, in a frenzy of rage, brutally arraigning Gertrude for her frailty, the Ghost appears for the last time. At the sight of it, Hamlet recovers himself; acknowledges that, "lapsed in time and passion", he has failed to obey the commands given to him; and, at the behest of the Ghost, turns to his mother, who is overcome by emotion. From this time forth there is a gradual change in Hamlet's character. Though he has not lost sight of the nature of his mother's sin, his tone is, for a time, somewhat different. He begs her to confess to heaven and to forbear from further relations with his uncle. And, most significantly, he repents for his error, recognizing that he must, nevertheless, pay for it. Pointing to the body of Polonius, he says: . . . For this same lord, I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, To punish me with this and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. (Ill, iv, 172-177)

But the recovery is not complete and immediate. Hamlet's later attempt to understand his failure to take effective action, prompted by the sight of Fortinbras' men marching to war, suggests that his mind is not entirely clear of the tainted cloud of passion which has possessed it. He still does not really know himself. He is not sure whether it is "bestial oblivion" or "thinking too precisely on the event" that has caused his inaction. By "bestial oblivion" he means a lack of feeling, and by "thinking too precisely on the event" he means a tendermindedness which is largely cowardice. The two reasons, however, have an ironic appropriateness of which he is not entirely aware. His preoccupation with the depravity of man had led him to long for suicide or oblivion

113

"HAMLET"

in order to escape the responsibilities of a being who is made in the image of God; and, when he had been given an opportunity to carry out his responsibility, thinking too precisely on the event had led him into a line of thought no man has a right to follow. He concludes the soliloquy by comparing himself unfavorably to Fortinbras and his men: . . . How stand I then, That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all s l e e p ? . . . . . . O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or nothing worth!

(IV, iv, 56-59, 65-66)

The tone of such a resolution does not indicate an illumination of the spirit. When Hamlet returns from the sea voyage, however, the recovery is complete. Because he has received a vision of a larger reality than is to be found in the contemplation of man alone a vision, one might suggest, which is given to him because of his recognition of, and desire to atone for, his sin - the blinders of passion are removed. No longer is his mind tortured by the significance of his mother's behavior; rather it is soothed by the implications of the events which occurred on the voyage. His recognition of the meaning of the part circumstance played in his escape from the ship bound for England marks the completion of the process of regeneration which began with the last appearance of the Ghost, a process which, as we have already noted, is spotted by regression. The mists of adustian passion, we may assume, are cleared away from the mind only gradually, but it is obvious that they are gone after the sea voyage. One sees now in Hamlet's conduct, as Mack observes, "the deportment of a man who has been 'illuminated' in the tragic sense".24 11 Mack, op. cit., pp. 254-255. It is true, we should note, that Hamlet gives way to a towering passion at Ophelia's grave, but this outburst of feeling does not appear to be a consequence of the adustian emotional disease. The belief of the King and Queen that this is an effect of his madness (V, i, 295, 307) seems to be another example of ironic misunderstanding.

114

"HAMLET"

A phrase which Hamlet employs in the letter to Gaudius announcing his return seems meant to suggest his mental rebirth: . . . I am set naked On your kingdom . . . (IV, vii, 43-44)

Claudius would, of course, understand the figurative expression to mean "alone", "without a retinue"; but the implication of a new birth that the phrase seems to imply is supported by the alternation in Hamlet's point of view, an alteration which is a result of his experiences at sea. "For," as Siegel states, "Hamlet's ocean voyage has made him undergo a sea change." 25 He has found that occasions no longer conspire against him, that circumstance is now on his side; and he believes himself to be in the hands of Providence. The act of rashness - and this is Hamlet's own phrase - that leads him to the darkened cabin of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern contrasts markedly in its upshot with the act of rashness which resulted in the death of Polonius.26 Because of the latter, Hamlet brought upon himself the necessity of death and the possibility of damnation; because of the former act, however, he was able to salvage an interim in which to become a willing instrument of Providence and earn redemption. The blind and arrogant reasoning which led him to pass up the chance to fulfill his mission brought him to the brink of damnation; the acknowledgment made over Polonius' body began a process which culminates in the full vision of the sea voyage. The discovery of Claudius' treachery and the counterfeiting of a new set of orders, even without the intervention of the pirate ship, might have given him the interim he needed. Because of the encounter with the pirates, however, his opportunity came earlier than he had expected. To Hamlet all of these accidents become illuminated with significance: Thus he calls the pirates who carried him off 25 26

Siegel, op. cit., p. 112. Cf. Bryant, op. cit., p. 130.

"HAMLET"

115

27

"thieves of mercy", and, when asked by Horatio how he had managed to carry out the forging of the orders which sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to their deaths, he says: W h y , e v e n i n that w a s h e a v e n ordinant. I had m y father's signet in m y purse, W h i c h w a s the model of that D a n i s h s e a l . . . ä8 (V, ii, 48-50)

So far as the fate of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is concerned, Hamlet has this to say to Horatio: Why, man, they did m a k e l o v e to this employment; They are n o t near m y conscience; their d e f e a t D o e s by their o w n insinuation grow . . . (IV, ii, 57-59)

His mind is untroubled. And rightly so. Whether consciously or not, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have become instruments of evil. Their deaths are part of the divine retribution which controls events in the world of Hamlet, an iron law of justice to which the prince himself must fall prey. Hence his death at the hands of Laertes, a death which is as appropriate as Laertes' death at Hamlet's hands, as right as the death of Gertrude through the poison in the cup prepared by Claudius, and as just as the death of Claudius by the combined poison of the sword and the cup administered by his nephew. For the Elizabethans believed that, though God's will worked out only slowly and painfully on this corrupted planet, it did ultimately prevail: All sins must be punished on earth. But they also believed that, if there is an iron law of justice operative in this world, there is also a golden law of mercy operative in the next for those who, by acknowledging their errors and realigning their wills with God's will, make themselves ripe for redemption. That Hamlet has achieved the insight which leads to such an alignment becomes apparent when, in commenting on the cir27 The fact that the pirates, as Hamlet observes, are not entirely altruistic does not, of course, nullify the significance of this reference. Like the sailors who disposed of Suffolk in II Henry VI, they are unwitting instruments of Providence. 28 Siegel (op. cit., p. 113) also calls attention to the importance of the references to the merciful thieves and the ordinant heaven.

116

"HAMLET"

cumstances that had led to his discovery of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's commission, he tells Horatio that: There's a divinity that shapes our ends Roughhew them how we w i l l . . . (V, ii, 10-11)

And the quiet sanity with which he evaluates the task still ahead of him contrasts markedly with the two bloody resolutions he had made after springing the mouse trap and after observing Fortinbras' men march through Denmark: Does it not, thinks't thee, stand me now upon He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother, Popp'd in between the election and my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such cozenage - is't not perfect conscience, To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd, To let this canker of our nature come In further evil? (V, ii, 64-70)

Such an attitude stands out the more vividly because of the passionate mental posture of Laertes depicted in a preceding scene, one important aspect of which strikingly parallels the attitude of Hamlet in the prayer scene. Seeking an answer to the mystery of his father's death, Laertes cries: How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with: To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged Most thoroughly for my father. (IV, v, 130-136)

Hamlet was never quite so hell-bent for revenge, but the thoroughness which Laertes desires is certainly meant to bring to mind the great mistake Hamlet had made in allowing his mind to focus exclusively on the personal element in the revenge he desired. This structural movement of the play is completed when, Laertes, like Hamlet, recognizes his error and the two young men exchange forgiveness before dying.

"HAMLET"

117

That the illumination which has restored Hamlet to sanity has also led him to align his will with the will of God is shown most clearly in his reply to Horatio's counsel to heed the instinct of impending disaster which troubles him and put off the fencing match; in refusing this advice Hamlet accepts categorically the control of divinity: . . . we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes? (V, ii, 230-235) If one is inclined to call this attitude fatalistic, one must, as Mack notes, "at least acknowledge that it is fatalism of a very distinctive kind - a kind that Shakespeare has been willing to touch with the associations of the saying in St. Matthew about the fall of a sparrow, and with Hamlet's recognition that a divinity shapes our ends".29 Certainly it seems difficult to avoid the conclusion that Hamlet has achieved a larger awareness of the role Providence plays in the great drama of sin and salvation which is acted out on earth. Though, as the graveyard scene reveals, he remains very much aware of the ironic contrast between man's pride or pretension and his physical frailty, he does not dwell with morbid bitterness upon the depravity of man. He is not now obsessed with the idea of rubbing his mother's mind in her sins; and he is no longer, by considering suicide, seeking to evade the role which heaven has called upon him to play. Hamlet has changed. He accepts his task and waits the outcome of his destiny, the fires of adustian passion having subsided. And in his comments on the interest of Providence in the fall of a sparrow there is more equanimity than sepulchral resignation. He knows now that the readiness is all that matters. He has come to realize that there is a Providence which stands outside the depraved human condition and yet controls it ultimately. Such an understanding and acceptance, one might note, Horaw

Mack, op. cit., p. 255.

118

"HAMLET"

tio had throughout. When, at the sight of the Ghost, Marcellus had cried out, "Something is rotten in Denmark", Horatio had replied, "Heaven will direct it." Horatio, the man in whom reason and blood are so well commingled that he remains unswayed by fortune's buffets, never loses sight of this ultimate truth. That Hamlet did is his tragedy; that he regains it - this is his glory. It seems then particularly appropriate that Horatio should pronounce a benediction that contains the intimation of a reward for such a redemption; Siegel says: The "Good night, sweet prince; / And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!" which Horatio utters over him (V, ii, 370-371) as he dies echoes the traditional idea of angelic choirs convoying the soul to heaven. For the Elizabethan audience these words were a farewell that expressed its regret for the death of Hamlet and its gratification at his passing beyond the bourn of this world with his nobility shining unobscured by the black clouds of misanthropy and with his soul saved.30 The Christian allusions which we have noted seem to put Hamlet into a framework which is similar to that of the morality protagonist. The implicit movement from damnation to salvation through the grace of God is, if the interpretive route we have followed is sound, the central structural pattern of the play. Unable to follow the injunctions of the Ghost, Hamlet, his mind philosophically darkened, falls into error. When he kills Polonius, he becomes directly implicated in the sin which poisons Denmark. His repentance for this act turns him in the direction of grace. He is at last able to accept the lot of man and to acknowledge a faith in Providence. And his redemption is assured, we feel, at the end of the play. In this most general sense, then, Hamlet's action pattern is similar to that of the morality protagonist. But he is not, of course, an abstraction; he is, as Willard Farnham put it, "Hamlet magnificently and pitiably alone, yet at the same time HamletEveryman". 31 Though Hamlet, needless to say, is not a morality 30 31

Siegel, op. cit., p. 115. Willard Farnham, The Medieval

(Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1956), p. 212.

Heritage

of Elizabethan

Tragedy

"HAMLET"

119

play, its structure and its meaning are conditioned by the morality framework. And within this framework, as we have seen, Shakespeare has made good use of contemporary psychology. As a result, Hamlet's sin is far more subtle and fascinating than that of, say, Mankind. A man who loses faith in the ultimate goodness and wisdom of God because of the evil circumstances that surround him can, we find, be led into the state of sin as inevitably as one who blithely embraces all wordly values. Certain of the references in Hamlet, as we have observed, bring to mind those biblical events which explain the predicament of every renaissance man who believed in the Christian scheme of things. The poison in the garden, the taint of Eve, the crime of Cain - these allusions, like the morality pattern, help to explain the significance of what happens in the play. Whether Christ's action of atonement is also reflected obliquely in Hamlet is more conjectural. Possibly, however, there are intimations of Christ as well as overtones of the morality protagonist in the character of Hamlet, though surely the latter element is the more dominant. To see such a combination of elements in Hamlet is not to deny the individuality or the universality of Shakespeare's creation. It is simply to comment on the way a great creative artist, whether consciously or not, at once reflects his vision of life and works with the intellectual and cultural resources that are available to him in his time. One more question remains. Does the conclusion of Hamlet, which is characteristic of one type of Christian tragedy - the type in which the protagonist is not damned but redeemed blur the tragic effect? By explaining the implications of the theological framework from which a Christian tragedy derives its significance, Professor J. A. Bryant supports his belief that the presence of the Christian pattern does not weaken but rather intensifies a tragedy. The focal points of the Christian thought pattern, as he observes, may be formulated in a divine comedy which involves the fall of Adam and the miraculous triumph of Christ, the second Adam. The Christian tragedy is derived from this pattern, but its focus is on the way in which the tragic

120

"HAMLET"

protagonist duplicates the failure of the first Adam to comply with the will of God. Moreover, Bryant apparently believes that, in such a tragedy, the significance of the second Adam does not serve to mitigate the implications of the fall. On the contrary, "the Christian's fall . . . is far more tragic than Adam's, for as a result of the incarnation of God in Jesus he can see more clearly the image of the creator in his own flesh and in his own actions. Christian tragedy thus discovers what remains of the divine image in man and contrasts the original perfection of that image with man's present fallen state." 82 Bryant's point, then, is that the Christian comic pattern "provides the modification which makes Christian tragedy what it is . . . [but] in no way cancels out the tragedy" » This line of reasoning may be applied to all tragedies which are based on the Christian thought pattern. Whether the protagonist is ultimately damned or redeemed, the tragic aspect of man's loss of his original position as an unscarred human image of God is implicit in a Christian tragedy. That there are differences between Christian tragedies such as, say, Lear and Hamlet, on the one hand, and Macbeth and Richard III, on the other, is obvious. But to attempt to explore the significance of these differences, or, for that matter, to follow the path of classical tragedy to Christian tragedy, is something we need not concern ourselves with here. What we should note, however, is that a Christian tragedy like Hamlet, one in which the element of regeneration is present, is but an abbreviated form of Christian comedy. It is the focus of a tragedy like Hamlet that separates it from the fuller framework of Christian comedy. In Christian tragedy, we may say, our attention is directed primarily to the consequences and implications of error and only secondarily to the intimations of the reward for regeneration. Not only are we made aware of the terrible dichotomy between what man was meant to be and what he has become; we also see what is lost by the endless error into which even the best of men are hurled. That, for example, the 32

Bryant, op. cit., p. 113.

Ibid.

"HAMLET"

121

tragic intimation of potential greatness lost in Hamlet is stressed, in spite of the theme of Christian regeneration, may be seen in the final speech of the play when Fortinbras says: Let four captains Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royal... (V, ii, 406-409)

Hamlet, like Lear, would have no desire to absent himself any longer from felicity, to measure himself out any further on the rack of this tough world; but the suggestion that he departs from this harsh imperfect world into the perfect peace of another life does not dim our awareness of how different, given another and less unfortunate conjunction of circumstances and character, his life might have been - how much suffering avoided, how much anguish averted. The intimation of an afterlife does not dilute the pity which results from seeing such suffering, the fear which comes from observing such a decline, the awe that derives from our insight into the significance of such an illumination of the spirit. Christian tragedy, then, though cut out of a similar pattern, differs in focus from the larger framework of medieval comedy. All's Well That Ends Well and Measure for Measure, the respective topics of the next two chapters, are examples of Shakespeare plays which are based on that more comprehensive pattern.

IV.

ALL'S

WELL THAT ENDS

WELL

The contemporary approach to All's Well That Ends Well, we may say, begins with W. W. Lawrence's discussion of it in Shakespeare's Problem Comedies. Lawrence shows that the main plot line of the play is a product of the fusion of two traditional story themes: (1) the healing of the king and (2) the fulfilment of the tasks. Stripped to its essentials, the story of the fulfilment of the tasks may be stated thus: "A wife is deserted by her husband, to be taken back on the fulfilment of apparently impossible conditions, one of which is to get a child by him. She performs these tasks, and wins back her husband." 1 The theme of the healing of the king found in Boccaccio and Shakespeare is a variation of the common theme of a hero's winning the hand of a king's daughter by performing a difficult and risky task. The variation would run like this: "A girl heals a sick king, her life being forfeit if she fails, and is rewarded with the hand of the king's son." 2 When the play is viewed in the light of these narrative conventions, it is clear, Lawrence says, that Helena's motivations are not open to criticism and that her reward, Bertram's acceptance of her as wife, is not a hollow one.3 Shakespeare, that is to say, was not writing cynically in All's Well: Helena is a good woman; Bertram's change of heart is real. Moreover, according to Lawrence, so far as purpose or artistic intention is concerned, 1 W. W. Lawrence, Shakespeare's Problem Comedies (New York, Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1960), p. 41. 2 Ibid., pp. 56-57. » Ibid., p. 54.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

123

Shakespeare was mainly interested in presenting good theater fare, not in embellishing a theme or teaching a moral lesson.4 His purpose was to tell, in theatrically effective fashion, a story, the story of a noble woman passing through great afflictions into happiness. He did not change the main significance of the tale as he found it, but followed absolutely in traditional lines, exalting the virtue of the heroine, just as his source, and other narratives of its type, had done. The play was thus written with its general treatment suggested in advance. Both oral and literary versions which had gathered wide acceptance confirmed the nature of this treatment. Shakespeare was free to alter details and characterization, to make Helena's husband a cad, to complicate the final scene, to introduce subsidiary personages, but not to turn the heroine into a wanton, or question the efficacy of her stratagems, or to cast doubts upon her ultimate happiness.5 This much can be said for the influence of Lawrence's interpretation: Later commentators are, for the most part, no longer inclined to take the extreme position of some of the earlier critics of All's Well. Samuel Johnson's Bertram is not altogether out of fashion: . . . a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who married Helena as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate; when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness.® But one does not find - at least without some qualification Masefield's Helena: Shakepeare saw her more clearly than any man who has ever lived. He saw her as a woman who practices a borrowed art, not for art's sake, nor for charity, but, woman fashion, for a selfish end. He saw her put a man into a position of ignominy quite unbearable, and then plot with other women to keep him in that position. Lastly he saw her beloved all the time by the conventionally minded,7 or the following kind of thematic interpretation: 4

Ibid., pp. 67, 71. Ibid., p. 67. • Quoted by Lawrence, p. 35. ' Ibid.

5

124

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

In All's Well That Ends Well - supremely cynical title - Shakespeare seems deliberately to take revenge on his own idealism of l o v e . . . The self-torturing mood of the play, the bitter mood of "I'll show you a happy ending," is only too apparent.8 Not all critics, of course, have been willing to accept without reservations the implications which Lawrence finds in Shakespeare's use of narrative conventions. And at least one interpreter, Clifford Leech, 9 pursues a line which has some affinities with the critical perspective that Lawrence attempted to invalidate. For Leech the blend of traditional story and realistic characterization in All's Well does not come off. He appears to believe that Shakespeare's dramatic imagination was somehow in conflict with the conventional material it was dealing with; for he suspects that there is a strain of darkness in Shakespeare's perspective in All's Well, and he finds satire in the depiction of Helena's "ambitious" love for Bertram: . . . we are made to see the value of Helena's prize: she becomes the wife of Bertram, a good fighter and a liar, cowed by the King, deceived by Parolles, by Diana and by Helena herself; she becomes Countess of Rousillon, a member of a chap-fallen nobility.10 This satirical element, he says, does not emerge clearly in the total effect because the focus of the play is somewhat blurred. Nevertheless, he contends that Bertram's repentance is perfunctorily handled and suggests that there is an undercurrent of rebelliousness in the conventional ending which Shakespeare applies to this drama - an ending "which makes the judge appear ridiculous and the chief witness impertinent". 11 There have been a number of critics who, like Mr. Leech, attach a great deal of importance to the meaning of All's Well. Several recent interpretations of the play stress the realistic nature of its theme. John Arthos 1 2 says that the play is about the confounding of 8

9

Ibid., p. 68.

Clifford Leech, "The Theme of Ambition in All's Well That Ends Well", ELH, XXI (March, 1954), 17-29. « Ibid., p. 28. » Ibid., p. 22. 12

John Arthos, "The Comedy of Generation", Essays in Criticism, V (April, 1955), 97-117.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

125

love in parents and in lovers. The realistic presentation of the ugly elements in life helps to "affirm the 'healing power' that belongs to love, and the parallel power of forgiveness that belongs to a king and a parent". 13 The element of faith, as he sees it, enters in only insofar as the audience is concerned; for the conclusion of the play calls upon our faith to support our hopes that all will go well with the marriage of Bertram and Helena.14 Walter N. King 15 believes that Shakespeare is presenting a picture of men and women behaving inconsistently as they do in real life. The play, he says, is a psychological study of the reactions of the main characters to a love problem in which they are all involved and the dramatization of which reveals the mingled yarn of human behavior, the delicate balance between the virtues and flaws of human nature.16 Helena's flaw is a romantic attitude toward love, which leads her into distress. The King, the Countess, and Lafeu share this flaw: " . . . they abet with all the zeal of good intentions the romantic flaw which Helena learns through humiliation to abhor in herself." 17 King, like Leech, finds an element of duplicity in Helena, noting that she only calls herself an instrument of providence when she addresses conventionally-minded people. Never, he asserts, in any of her soliloquies does she call herself an agent of heaven.18 J. F. Adams 19 maintains that "The themes of the play are all organized around this problem: How, in this world of ambiguity, complicated by deliberate deceit and duplicity, and subject to distortions by the itches of the flesh, is one to know what constitutes right or honorable action?" 20 The problem, he believes, is dramatized through three interrelated themes: (1) the nature of honor or human worth, (2) the responsibilities of youth to the past, 18

Ibid., p. 106. Ibid., p. 117. Walter N. King, "Shakespeare's 'Mingled Yarn' ", MLQ, XXI (March, 1960), 33-44. le Ibid., p. 33. 17 Ibid., p. 36. 18 Ibid., p. 39. Cf. Leech, op. cit., p. 23 et passim. " John F. Adams, "All's Well That Ends Well: The Paradox of Procreation", Shakespeare Quarterly, ΧΠ (Summer, 1961), 261-270. 20 Ibid., p. 261. 11

15

126

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

and (3) sex and procreation, a theme which ties the first two themes together.21 The interpretations and criticisms of All's Well that are, in one way or another, almost wholly grounded in realism seem to me to justify Mr. G. K. Hunter's comment that critics and interpreters of the play have "failed to provide a context within which . . . [its] genuine virtues . . . can be appreciated".22 Though it is true that Lawrence's citation of conventional folklore motifs tends to oversimplify the problem somewhat, it seems clear that his general conclusions cannot be denied: Helena is a good woman - she is not to be suspected either of duplicity or of a romantic flaw in any derogatory sense; Bertram's repetance is sincere, and there is something in him worth the winning - there is no ironic joke on Helena at the conclusion of the play; all does end well - we do not have to hope for the best. At the same time, in order to justify this approach conclusively, we must deny Lawrence's thesis that Shakespeare was not guided in his writing of the play by a significant theme. For All's Well is far richer in texture than Lawrence indicates: Shakespeare has added a morality framework and charged the imagery and action of the play with religious and symbolic significance. Helena and Bertram, as Ε. M. W. Tillyard observes, are meant to represent "heavenly grace and natural, unredeemed, man respectively".23 And, as M. C. Bradbrook points out, Bertram's rejection of Helena, the human counterpart of the good angel of the morality play, "must be seen not in isolation but as linked with his choice of Parolles", who corresponds to the bad angel of the morality play.24 To ignore these elements and to concentrate only on the realistic level of the play is to miss the main point of All's Well·, for Shakespeare has invested the two 21

Ibid. 22 G. K. Hunter, "Introduction", All's Well That Ends Well, ed. G. K. Hunter ("The Arden Edition of the Works of William Shakespeare"; London, Methuen & Co., 1962), p. xxix. 23 Ε. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's Problem Plays (London, Chatto & Windus, 1957), p. 108. 24 M. C. Bradbrook, "Virtue Is the True Nobility: A Study of the Structure of All's Well That Ends Welt', RES, new series, I (October, 1950). 301.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

127

folklore motifs which were fused in his source with a Christian theme. And the action of the play, as G. K. Hunter states, is unquestionably meant to lead the viewer or reader to this ultimate conclusion: The major victory at the end of the play is not the achievement of a husband but the ransom of wickedness by the overflowing power of mercy . . . 25

But, without exception, those interpreters who are aware of the significance of the religious elements in All's Well find the play in some sense a failure. Miss Bradbrook feels that the play fails because the theme of unrequited love is not well absorbed into its conclusion. The drama ends well, she says, only in this sense: that the struggle of Helena for recognition is achieved. For: Her devotion, tinged for the first time with bitterness, requires another mode of expression than the last dozen lines allow. She has been acknowledged by her lord; that her personal happiness is simply irrelevant, and the ending therefore neither hypocritical nor cynical, can be granted only if the play is seen as a study of the question of "Wherein lies true honour and nobility?" 26

Mr. Tillyard finds that the play fails because the author's poetic imagination faltered at the crucial places, the reason apparently deriving from the difficulty Shakespeare encountered in attempting to fit "a highly realistic set of principal actors into a plot belonging to the fantastic world of fairy-lore".27 Tillyard also says that the morality motive in All's Well "does little to explain its character, for it is not strong enough to make itself powerfully felt".28 And in Helena's "passion" for Bertram he sees a "formidable tautness".29 Mr. S. Nargarjan, so whose criticism of All's Well seems to represent, in some measure, an amplification of Tillyard's reading, 25

Hunter, op. cit., p. liv. Bradbrook, op. cit., p. 301. " Tillyard, op. cit., p. 102. 28 Ibid., p. 109. » Ibid., p. 111. 30 S. Nargarjan, "The Structure of All's Well That Ends Well", Essays in Criticism, X (Jan., 1960), 24-31. 2β

128

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

refutes M. C. Bradbrook's contention that the theme of the play is the problem of honor and asserts that the focus of the play is on the problem of unrequited love.31 Though he recognizes the allusions to divinity which are connected with Helena's character, he appears to minimize their thematic importance, maintaining that the plot is too slender to support all aspects of the love theme. The exigencies of the plot, he says, prevent Helena's love for Bertram from being compared to Mariana's love for Angelo in Measure for Measure, "a love absolutely unmotivated, spontaneous, indifferent to and independent of the worth of response of the loved person, a love of which we declare joyfully, 'here is Christian love; this is patterned on God's own Agape' ".82 Moreover, "while evil such as Angelo's invites the weighty task of redemption at the hands of a love like Mariana's, so that we can speak fairly of her love endowing Angelo with worth, immaturity or boyishness makes such love look irrelevant and merely portentous. Hence the feeling, absent in Measure for Measure, that Helen is unduly bothered." 33 And Narganjan believes that the audience must accept the service which Helena does for the King as "part of 'the given' of the dramatist in working out the problem of the play. (It is better", he says, "not to bother overmuch about the proportion of nature and miracle in all this." 34) Even G. K. Hunter, who admits that criticism has failed to provide the proper context in which to view the play and whose admirable introduction to the Arden edition of All's Well does much to place it in its proper perspective, comes to this conclusion: A historical understanding of Bertram in an Elizabethan context cannot remove the failure of technique that a total view of the play reveals. As the representative of "honour" in the thematic aspect of the play, tempted, falling, and saved, he is possible; as the realistic picture of the "unlicked" Renaissance nobleman he is credible; but when the moral dimension of natural man choosing Sin but saved by Grace is added, and the different kind of reality in Helena is S1 31 35 34

Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,

p. 28. p. 30. p. 31. pp. 28-29.

" A L L ' S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

129

juxtaposed against him, the superstructure of meaning becomes too heavy for the basis of character and the whole topples dangerously near incoherence, and virtually separates out into its constituent elements." The reason for the failure, he suggests, echoing Tillyard, apparently stems from the problem of "reconciling a simple magical heroine derived from the source with a realistic background . . ,".se And he goes on to articulate more specifically than anyone else what lies behind most of the dissatisfaction with the play as a whole: Helena's search, he says, may be viewed as a part of a larger and vaguer search for meaning, a search on the part of the whole play for a meaning which will interrelate the various levels of experience. It is not the heroine who is unfulfilled but the play itself, which seems intellectual because it is unfulfilled, and has failed to find human terms to express its vision, leaving the rough ends of its intellectual promptings still exposed." I find those interpretations which approach All's Well That Ends Well solely in realistic terms deficient because they overlook the richness in the texture of the play; I also find the interpretations which do recognize the richness in this drama deficient because they overlook the justification for the way in which Shakespeare has linked its various themes and therefore conclude that All's Well represents a failure of Shakespeare's imagination to cope effectively with the material he employed. While I do not intend to say that All's Well That Ends Well is one of Shakespeare's best plays or that its raw material (the folklore motifs) is perfectly tractable to the thematic dialectic, I do suggest that, because its various themes are logically connected and because 35 36

Hunter, op. cit., p. xlvii. Ibid.,

p.

1.

" Ibid., p. Iii. Cf. Tillyard's comment on the problem plays as a group (op. cit., p. 3): " . . . Shakespeare is concerned throughout with either religious dogma or abstract speculation or both. It may be retorted that so he was also when he wrote his later tragedies. Yet there is a difference, in that dogma and speculation are less completely absorbed into the general substance of the Problem Plays; they are felt rather more for their own and rather less for the drama's sake, as if, in this form at least, they were new and urgent in Shakespeare's mind, demanding at this point statement and articulation rather than solution and absorption into other material."

130

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

the difficulties encountered in the blending of traditional story and Christian theme are, for the most part, overcome brilliantly, it is a far better play than even some of its most discerning interpreters have realized. Shakespeare's poetic and dramatic imagination, I submit, has not faltered in the construction of All's Well·, rather it is, I think, the modern critical imagination which has failed to integrate itself successfully with the far richer imagination of the renaissance and which has, as a result, failed to appreciate fully a rather striking dramatic achievement. The logical relationship between the various themes of the play and the central structural pattern has never been clearly pointed out. The folklore motif that involves love on the human level has been, to a certain extent, invested with psychological realism; it has also been made symbolic of the Christian motif of divine love as revealed through the intercession of God in human affairs. And the structure of the play is based on a humanistic modification of the structure of the morality play. Moreover, the morality element, which has theological implications, subsumes a social theme that involves the following oppositions: war and love, lust and chastity, virtue in name or appearance and virtue in reality or in deed. This social theme is integrally connected to the themes of human and divine love: for a young man may choose to place the pomp and circumstance of war above love, to follow the dictates of lust rather than the rule of chastity, to value appearances above reality; and to do so is to risk missing the love and mercy of God. In All's Well the morality motif, which is symbolically rather than allegorically presented, first makes itself apparent in Act I, scene i, where Helena, having revealed in a soliloquy the nature of her feelings for Bertram, observes the approach of Parolles: . . . Who comes here? [Aside] One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; And yet I know him a notorious liar, Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him, That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

131

Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. (I, i, 109-116) 3 8

This brief passage clearly outlines the problem of the play. Bertram, whom his own mother has labelled an "unseasoned courtier", is about to set forth for the court, which, as Helena observes later, is a "learning place". His choice of a travelling companion suggests his lack of maturity. Helena's characterization of Parolles as a fool, a coward (the pun suggests that he is spiritually as well as physically deficient in courage), and a liar are borne out not only by the opinions of everyone else who has anything to say about the "superfluous folly" which dogs the steps of young Bertram but also by the action of the play. Clearly Parolles or Words represents the external show of things, appearance. He does not play as active a role as his progenitor, the vice in the prodigal-son morality play; but it seems an error to say either that the morality element does little to explain the character of the play 89 or that it is to a large extent independent of the main plot.40 Thematically and structurally, Parolles is an essential character in the play. Without the symbolic meaning which is a part of the character of Parolles and which is alluded to on several occasions, the thematic structure of the play would be seriously impaired.. Though we do not ever see him directly influencing Bertram's decisions, we are conscious of the fact that he always has Bertram's ear. Here, for example, is Parolles advising Bertram on social behavior: Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are 38 All quotations from Shakespeare are by line to the text as printed in Hardin Craig's edition of The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Chicago, Scott, Foresman and Co., 1951). 89 Supra, n. 28. 40 Lawrence, op. cit., p. 33. Cf. Hunter's objection (p. xxxiii): "This independence is, however, only true of the plots when considered as bare narrative - the Bertram story could progress without the Parolles story; but in a more vitally organic sense they are interdependent - the Bertram story would not mean the same without the Parolles story."

132

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.41 (II, i, 52-59)

The connection between social appearances and the devil, in the context of this play, is not gratuitous. 'Lafeu, who sees through Parolles from the first, observes that "the soul of this man is his clothes" and dubs him a "general offence". Moreover, in commenting on the foppish exterior which Parolles presents, he cries indignantly: The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? (II, iii, 264-266)

What is important to keep in mind here is that a social theme, preoccupation with appearances (dress, manners, rank, etc.), is invested with religious or theological significance. This is the vice with which the young nobleman of Rousillon has become infected, and we are meant to interpret his reactions to his marriage and to the trap which Helena sets for him in this light. In contrast to Parolles, Helena represents wisdom and virtue over which, as she sadly points out, superfluous folly often takes precedence. The initial meeting between Helena and Parolles foreshadows much that is significant in this drama. The problem, as we have noted, is outlined. Folly takes place over virtue and wisdom: Parolles goes to court with Bertram; Helena remains behind. A young man is being seduced by the appearance of this world, a seduction which has theological implications: The devil leads the measure to which Bertram is dancing. But in the course of the conversation between the two human beings who represent folly and wisdom, the solution of the problem is anticipated. The conversation is a witty one, centering on the question of virginity. To Parolles' bantering impertinence, " . . . will you anything with it?" Helena answers quite seriously and quite pertinently as follows: Not my virginity y e t . . . There shall your master have a thousand loves, 41 Helena's religious philosophy, revealed in the same scene (lines 137ff.)t seems designed to contrast markedly with Parolles' social philosophy.

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

133

A mother and a mistress and a friend, A phoenix, captain and an enemy, A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; His humble ambition, proud humility, His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, His faith, his sweet disaster . . . (I, i, 179-187) Though there has been much speculation about this passage, the inteipretation does not seem difficult. The syntax is perfectly smooth. There has for its antecedent virginity; and by the "thousand loves" which she partially enumerates, Helena is forecasting (this is a conventional device of the dramatist; it is probably not meant to be taken realistically), the various functions which her love will perform for Bertram. Before examining more closely the significance of these terms of endearment, it might be well to look at the opening line of the play, which is spoken by the Countess of Rousillon: "In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband." It has, I believe, more than one meaning and seems to offer an index to the central theme of the play. What the Countess means, of course, is obvious: In seeing her son depart for court, she is experiencing, at the prospect of his absence, a grief similar to that which she had felt on the occasion of the burial of her husband. In the context of the play as a whole, however, the line assumes another level of interpretation. The images of birth and death are evoked through the words delivering and bury. And, in a spiritual sense, Bertram's social birth is a death. When he goes to court and falls more completely under the influence of Parolles, he dies morally; his spiritual regeneration is accomplished through Helena's fulfilment of the apparently impossible conditions (the folklore tradition) he has laid upon her as a prerequisite to his recognition of their marriage, one of which is, significantly, to become pregnant with his child. Thus Helena has to resort to a feigned death and the "bed-trick" in order to beget new life in herself physically and in Bertram spiritually. Diana's double-talk, of which so many commentators have complained, lends some credence to this line of interpretation:

134

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick. So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick. (V, iii, 303-304) Helena's apparent resurrection redeems Bertram from the dangerous accusations that have been leveled against him. And his acceptance of her as wife in reality as well as in name indicates his moral regeneration. To Helena's 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name and not the thing. (V, iii, 307-308) Bertram's anguished reply Both, both. O, pardon! (V, iii, 309) reveals his repentance. Moreover, Bertram's acceptance of Helena as wife in reality suggests that he is through with appearances. The shadow of virtue in his life becomes substance, takes form. He accepts his wedding with virtue and wisdom. When one looks at the structure of the play in this way, it is obvious that Helena's prophecy of the role she will play in Bertram's life is fulfilled. In bringing Bertram morally to life she performs the function of a second mother; she becomes his phoenix. In order to deliver him from death (moral and spiritual decay) she becomes his mistress. By directing his fate as she does, she well deserves to be called his captain, guide, goddess, and sovereign. And since all is done against his will and behind his back, does she not indeed become an enemy, a traitress, his sweet disaster? The remaining oxymorons also are pertinent: She is his humble ambition, his proud humility, his jarring concord, his discord dulcet. The way in which she brings spiritual order into his wayward life jars him rudely, but the upshot of such a shattering experience is a happy one. Helena is, after all, in more ways than one, Bertram's faith; and it is well for his future, in this world as well as in the next, that superfluous folly no longer takes precedence in his life over the fundamental values of wisdom and virtue. Though Helena acts as a kind of morality figure in All's Well

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

135

and symbolically reveals the mercy which God, out of his great love for man, shows sinners, she is not merely an abstraction; for she is presented as a real woman. And herein for many critics of the play - even those who recognize the symbolic level lies the rub: Either they see Helena as being ambitious for love in rather an unseemly way - her low rank coupled with her "taut passion" somehow offends - or they feel that Bertram is not really worth the trouble and that the joke is on Helena in spite of her success. And here, too, apparently lies the difficulty in reconciling the themes: The very real quality of Helena's "ambitious" love makes her an unlikely candidate for a heavenly degree. It seems to me that this play, if approached from the proper perspective, does not deserve such criticism. To begin with, as we have noted, the folklore plot has been invested with Christian meaning. To say that the failure of the play stems from the difficulty of fusing the folklore plot and realistic characterization is to begin on the wrong foot. The problem which Shakespeare dealt with in All's Well is that of uniting Christian symbolism with a realistic presentation of character. That he knew what he was about here when he invested the folklore material of his source with Christian significance I shall attempt to show later. First, however, let us look more closely at the theme of ambition - a theme which the structure of the play will not allow the reader to separate entirely from the social themes or, for that matter, from the religious theme of Christian grace. Even by some of her most sympathetic interpreters Helena has been called a social climber, and the theme of ambition discerned by less sympathetic critics has loomed large in the play.42 It seems important to note that within the play itself only 42

Leech (see footnote 43) finds a distinct pejorative note in the treatment of Helena's ambition; Tillyard sees her as a good "adventurer" engaged in an "intrinsically dubious adventure" (pp. 106, 97); Bradbrook, apparently intending no really serious implications, calls her a social climber (p. 297) and Hunter, bowing slightly in the direction of Leech, observes: ".'.. both [Parolles and Helena] are poor people making good in a world open to adventurers, but the magical and romantic actions of Helena are in strong contrast to the prosaic opportunism of Parolles - the contrast

136

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

Helena accuses herself of ambition, a fact which takes some of the sting away from the charge. Moreover, Helena does not seek Bertram for a husband before deserving him. And the fact that she risks her life in the process is too often overlooked when the theme of ambition is discussed. The problem which Helena faces in her love for Bertram is mentioned in the soliloquy delivered just before the entrance of Parolles, who, as we have seen, outranks her in Bertram's estimation, and the beginning of the virginity debate: . . . 'Twere all one That I should love a bright particular star And think to wed it, he is so above me: In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love. (I, i, 95-102)

Her position seems hopeless. By the end of the conversation with Parolles, however, a shadow of a possibility has presented itself. She breaks off her prophecy of what her love may prove to be to Bertram when the thought of what may happen to him at court disturbs her mind: . . . Now shall he I know not what he shall. God send him well. The court's a learning place, and 'he is one —. (I, i, 189-191)

To Parolles' "What one, i' faith?" Helena replies, "That I wish well", and goes on to say that it is a pity That wishing well had not a body in it Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes Might with effects of them follow our friend, And show what we alone must think, which never Returns us thanks. (I, i, 195-200) perhaps working both ways, staining the career of Helena with the imputation of ambition as well as showing up the. degraded mind of Parolles" (p. xxxiii).

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

137

This wish - which, ironically enough, reflects Bertram's lightlyrendered farewell to Helena, "The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts be servants to you", - leads to her resolution at the end of the scene: Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. What power is it which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes and kiss like native things. Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose What hath been cannot be: who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? The king's disease — my project may deceive me But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. (I, i, 231-244) The philosophy which Helena expresses here is not heterodox.4* The Elizabethans believed in free will; the power of the enlightened mind over the vagaries of circumstance was to them axiomatic. Only those unfortunates who lived on the plane of the senses were, in conservative renaissance minds, subject to the control of fortune. Helena's allusion to the power which lifts her love and which, though giving her sight, does not feed her eye suggests the kind of wisdom or intuition which is beyond the senses. And certainly the reference to those who are so stupid as to "weigh their pains in sense" and assume that "what hath been cannot be . . ." reinforces this interpretation. The kind of knowledge appealed to here is religious knowledge. Helena is directed in her enterprise by her intuition and faith. These faculties lead her to believe - and, the action of the play proves, rightly so - in a universe which is divinely rational and ultimately beneficent: 43 Leech's interpretation of this speech is quite different from mine. Helena's "belief in her own power", he says, "is akin to that of any ambitious hero of the time..." (p. 27). He goes on to compare Helena to Chapman's Bussy, Jonson's Sejanus, and Shakespeare's Edmund (p. 28).

138

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? Seen in this light, Helena's "ambition" is not a presumptuous one — not, at any rate, by Elizabethan standards. It proceeds from a faith in a just and wise God. Moreover, as we have observed, Helena wishes to prove herself worthy of marrying Bertram; she is not at all concerned with gaining status by the act of marriage. The point is that she is in the unfortunate position of loving a man who is beyond her in rank. She is not in love with the rank itself. She is hardly a Malvolio. Her desire, it is important to note, is not considered presumptuous by Bertram's mother, who earlier had commended both Helena's innate and acquired virtues - "She derives her honesty and achieves her goodness" (I, i, 51-52). When the Countess questions Helena about her feelings for Bertram, she answers in a moving speech: Then, I confess, Here on my knees, before high heaven and you That before you, and next unto high heaven, I love your son. My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: Be not offended; for it hurts not him That he is loved of me: I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit; Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; Yet never know how that desert should be. I know I love in vain, strive against hope; Yet in this captious and intenible sieve I still pour in the waters of my love And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, Religious in mine error, I adore The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, Let not your hate encounter with my love For loving where you do: but if yourself Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, Did ever in so true a flame of liking Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity To her, whose state is such that cannot choose

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

139

But lend and give where she is sure to lose; That seeks not to find that her search implies But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! (I, iii, 197-223)

The shining sincerity of these lines helps to absolve Helena from the charge of unhealthy aspiration; they also are meant to define the kind of love which possesses her. Because Helena is a human being, neither she nor her love can be ideal. But, clearly, the nature of her feeling for Bertram, as she describes it here and as the action of the play bears out, represents the most admirable form of love between the sexes. The union of love and Diana to which she alludes indicates the level upon which her affections move. Whether or not there is a mote in the eye of Helena, her heart is untainted. Though the quality of her passion is not strained, there is nothing dark, indelicate, or dubious about it. Upon further questioning by the Countess, Helena reveals that it was her love for Bertram that led her to think of attempting to cure the King with a remedy which her father had left her as a legacy. In spite of the Countess's warning that the King and his physicians are not likely to pay much attention to her, Helena's faith in the remedy leads her to ask permission to make the attempt. Of the antidote she says: There's something in't More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall for my legacy be sanctified By the luckiest stars in heaven . . . (I, iii, 248-252)

The proportion of natural and supernatural involved here, Mr. Nargarjan to the contrary, is of the utmost importance. One may well assume that the mixture of the natural and supernatural in the remedy parallels the elements of the natural and the supernatural in the character of Helena, who represents the happy conjunction of natural merit and divine grace.44 With the full approval of the Countess - "I'll stay at home / 44

It is interesting to note that Miss Bradbrook compares Helena to Dante's Beatrice, who "is an example of active virtue, received by a direct infusion of grace" (pp. cit., p. 300).

140

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

And pray God's blessings into thy attempt" (I, iii, 259-260) Helena sets out on her mission. But, as the Countess predicted, she does not find easy going. The King, who is convinced his cause is hopeless, rebuffs Helena; his reasons are eminently rational: . . . I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope To prostitute our past-cure malady To empirics, or to dissever so Our great self and our credit, to esteem A senseless help when help past sense we deem. (II, i, 122-127)

Against this reason of the senses, this common sense, Helena, who for a moment almost gives up, pleads for the acknowledgment of a higher wisdom: He that of greatest works is finisher Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, When judges have been babes; great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied. Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises, and oft it -hits Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. (II, i, 138-147)

When the King remains unswayed, she proclaims: Inspired merit so by breath is bair'd: It is not so with Him that all things knows As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; But most it is presumption in us when The help of heaven we count the act of men. Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. (II, i, 151-157)

Moved by her faith, he begins to waver. And, when she offers her life as a ransom for his cure, he accepts her offer: Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak His powerful sound within an organ weak:

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

141

And what impossibility would slay In common sense, sense saves another way, (II, i, 178-181)

and agrees to give her whatever man she chooses for a husband if she succeeds. Spiritual wisdom has, in the course of this conversation, converted human reason. We now reach a crucial point in the play, both from the interpretive standpoint and from the standpoint of critical appraisal. That the King's recovery is meant to be regarded as a miracle and that Helena is meant to be regarded as a heavenly agent it seems impossible to deny. Lafeu's words carry on the motif of the distinction between heavenly and human or scientific reasoning: They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear. (II, iii, 1-6)

Helena's success he designates thus: A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. (II, iii, 29)

Helena's own comment on her achievement illustrates her modesty: Gentlemen, Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. (II, iii, 69-70)

And everyone is impressed apparently except Bertram, who alone of the young lords the King has assembled finds Helena repugnant. When Helena says to Bertram, I dare not say I take you; but I give Me and my service, ever whilst I live Into your guiding power, (II, iii, 109-111)

he recoils in horror at the prospect. A modern mind might well find such a reaction understandable, and sympathize with Bertram, who, when the King gives his approval to Helena's choice, cries:

142

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.

(II, iii, 114-115)

And one might also criticize Helena for putting herself in such a position in the first place. But to pursue this line of criticism is to miss the whole drift of the play. Shakespeare has made Helena appear as modest as possible under the circumstances. Indeed, when she sees Bertram's violent reaction to his situation, she declares to the King: That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: Let the rest go. (II, iii, 154-155) Helena, obviously, is driven by a passion which is absolutely selfless and pure. Though, however, we are beginning to realize at this point in the play that Bertram can achieve true happiness only through marriage with Helena, Helena herself, as a human being, does not share our knowledge. Thus she falters, just as she had faltered earlier at the King's gruffness. What we have here is a nice balance between realistic characterization and symbolic representation. Even more important in determining one's reaction to Bertram's forced marriage is the motive the Count has for turning Helena down. Bertram is a young man who has been corrupted by the love of social appearances. And when he looks at Helena, he sees neither her beauty nor her intrinsic worth, her nobility of soul. H e sees only lack of rank: . . . I know her well She had her breeding at my father's charge. A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! (II, iii, 120-123) Is it well to allow such a young man to trust to his own eyes? The King doesn't think so, and his speech on inherited and acquired virtue should settle conclusively the question of Helena's ambition: 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

143

Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off In differences so mighty. If she be All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest Of virtue for the name: but do not so: From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed: Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour. Good alone Is good without a name. Vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir, And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born And is not like the sire: honours thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers . . . (II, iii, 124-144)

The point is that Helena has earned her way; her acquired merit more than matches that which has been inherited by Bertram. Bertram's spiritual disease is, however, more difficult to cure than the King's physical ailment. Only when the King threatens the consequences of his displeasure, overriding Helena's request that her reward for the cure be dispensed with, does Bertram pretend to acquiesce in the marriage. Later it is, significantly enough, Parolles who consoles him. When Bertram complains of his position, Parolles inquires, "What's the matter, sweet-heart?" and encourages the young nobleman in his desire to escape the consummation of this unwelcome marriage by participating in the war in Italy. Bertram then sends Helena back to Rousillon, dispatches a letter after her in which he cynically lays down apparently impossible conditions for the fulfilment of their marriage, and steals off to the Italian war. Mars, with whom Parolles has been associated,45 has, at this juncture, triumphed over the combination of Love and Chastity represented by Helena.4® After 45 In the first encounter between Parolles and Helena, Parolles associates himself with Mars (I, i, 250 ff.). 4 · See I, iii, 116-120, 215-219; Π, iii, 80-81.

144

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

arriving in Florence, Bertram is given a commission in the Duke's army and proclaims, Great Man, I put myself into thy file: Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove A lover of thy drum, hater of love. (III,iii, 9-11) The Countess of Rousillon, learning of Bertram's defection to both the King and Helena, makes the appropriate commentary: This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, To fly the favours of so good a king; To pluck his indignation on thy head By the misprising of a maid too virtuous For the contempt of empire.

(Ill, ii, 30-34)

On the other hand, Helena's reaction to Bertram's bitterness, which he has made quite evident in the conditions he lays upon their union: When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a "then" I write a "never". (Ill, ii, 58-62) confirms our opinion of her character. It is not the reaction of a social climber. She is concerned for Bertram's safety and blames herself for his exposing himself to the dangers of war. In an almost maternal soliloquy she exclaims: . . . Poor lord! Is't I That chase thee from the country and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the none-sparing war?... My being here it is that holds thee hence: Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house And angels officed all: I will be gone, That pitiful rumour may report my flight, To consolate thine e a r . . . (Ill, iii, 105-108, 126-131)

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

145

Learning of Helena's flight, the Countess again provides the appropriate comment upon the relationship of her son to Helena: . . . What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath Of greatest justice. (Ill, iii, 27-31)

An important turning point in the play comes in scene v, Act III. Helena has undertaken a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostella in Spain47 in order to atone for what she calls her ambitious love. She has written to Bertram's mother, explaining her actions and expressing the hope that Bertram will now return to the safety of his home: He is too good and fair for death and me; Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. (Ill, iv, 16-17)

Quite by chance - or better, perhaps, as the result of a chancedirecting Providence; for in the world of All's Well angels do indeed office all - she meets the widowed mother of Diana, whom Bertram is attempting to seduce, aided and encouraged in his efforts by his pandering and faithless go-between, the incorrigible Parolles. Helena learns that her character is disparaged by Parolles, and this time it is the young maid Diana who tells us what to think of the situation. Of Bertram she remarks: . . . 'tis a most gallant fellow. I would he loved his wife: if he were homester He were much g o o d l i e r . . . (Ill, v, 81-83)

And of Bertram's association with Parolles: 47 Considering the context of the play, it seems appropriate, as Dr. C. L. Finney has pointed out to me, that the character of the Order of Saint James of Compostela is both hospitaller and military. See The Catholic Encyclopedia: An International Work of Reference on the Constitution, Doctrine, Discipline, and History of the Catholic Church, ed. C. G. Herbermann, et al, ΧΙΠ (New York, The Encyclopedia Press, Inc., 1913), p. 353.

146

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

. . . yond's that same knave That leads him to these places: were I his lady, I would poison that vile rascal. (Ill, v, 85-87) Seeing Bertram's honor in danger of corruption, Helena sets about to fulfill the conditions of his letter. As a result of her plot, the social motif of inherited nobility and acquired nobility again is brought into the play and united with the theological theme of human sin and divine grace. For Diana is instructed by Helena to demand of Bertram, in exchange for her virtue, the ring "which never leaves his finger", the ring which has been handed down in his family for generations, the symbol of inherited nobility or honor. Helena knows Bertram well; she is sure the condition will be accepted: . . . this ring he holds In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, Howe'er repented after. (Ill, vii, 25-28) And she is right. With Bertram's ring in her possession, she takes Diana's place at the illicit rendezvous and gives Bertram the ring which had been given to her by the King as a reward for her services. This ring clearly represents honor which has been earned. While Bertram sets about the consummation of his seduction scheme, two French lords, who act as choric characters, comment on his actions. They point out his errors in "shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady", and in incurring "the everlasting displeasure of the king, who had even tun'd his bounty to sing happiness to him". Then the second lord comments on Bertram's plan to seduce Diana: " . . . he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition". The following dialogue ensues: First Lord: Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, what things are we! Second Lord: Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

147

attain to their abhorred ends, so he that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. First Lord: Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? (IV, iii, 23-31) Two doctrines, as Professor Tillyard has observed, are represented here: . . . first and most emphatic, the theological doctrine of man's depravity unaided by divine grace, second, the doctrine that great crime will out, and often by the criminal giving himself away, to his ultimate punishment. Bertram, in his acts, has shown himself to be man cut off from grace, and by his indiscreet confidences, his "o'erflowing himself", has prepared his own detection and punishment.48 After keeping his midnight rendezvous, Bertram returns to camp, where he learns at last of the emptiness of his friend Parolles. Appropriately enough, Parolles is undone as a result of an incident involving a drum. (Bertram's vow to love the drum, which symbolizes war, and to hate love has already been noted). Informed by friends that Parolles is a "bubble", Bertram becomes a party to the plot to expose the braggart soldier, who has pretended to set out on a one-man expedition to recover the drum lost by his company, knowing full well he does not have the courage to make the attempt. Captured and blindfolded by his own comrades, who have disguised themselves, Parolles lives up to his name. Believing his life to be in danger, he talks fluently, disparaging his comrades, Bertram in particular, and betraying their cause. Such an exposure has symbolic significance. Bertram recognizes Parolles for what he is - the vice which has corrupted his nature is unveiled; but Bertram, since he is realistically as well as symbolically presented, is still a young man whose mind has been infected with false values. His own moment of truth, however, is not far off. Having heard that Helena is dead, Bertram returns home where he receives the pardon of the King, who has heard good reports of the Count's conduct in the war and who realizes, like Lafeu, that Bertram, in losing such a wife, has hurt himself more than 48

Tillyard, op. cit., p. 108.

148

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

anyone else. Bertram is ready to take another wife, Lafeu's daughter; but he makes the mistake of sending her Helena's ring as a token. Recognizing it, the King immediately suspects foul play; and at this point Diana enters, ostensibly for the purpose of making Bertram keep his promise to marry her upon his wife's death. Bertram's attempt to wriggle out of this contretemps only makes the situation worse. For Diana is wearing his ring, which makes his statement that she was a common gamester an obvious lie. Then Parolles is brought in to bear witness against Bertram, Diana begins to speak in riddles, and the King throws up his hands in despair. The time is ripe for the entrance of Helena and the ensuing redemption of Bertram. Thus at the end of the play virtue in name and virtue in deeds (as symbolized by the rings) are joined in their union. How in the face of such an intricate design can one doubt the integrity of the conclusion of the play? The pressures to which Bertram is subjected and which reveal the extent of his corruption are necessary to consummate the theological theme. With his back to the wall, the young Count reaches the depths of moral cowardice; the way in which Shakespeare has blackened his character here dramatically reveals natural man's need for divine grace for such a redemption and corresponds to that point in the morality play at which the protagonist, burdened by sin and seemingly about to be carried off to the everlasting torments of hell, calls for mercy.49 If the line we have followed in this interpretation is supported by the context of the play, then a strictly realistic reading of All's Well or a refusal to grant the significance of the theological theme diminishes its scope considerably. But we still have not answered fully the criticisms of those commentators who, though recognizing the diversity of themes in the play, feel that All's Well fails because these themes are not brought together coherently. Shakespeare's imagination, they say, has stuttered; his vision has not been given satisfactory form. And, one suspects, the main trouble springs from the two different roles that the 19 Cf. Mankind's plea at the climax of The Castle of Perseverance, supra, p. 91.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

149

heroine plays. Helena as a divine principle and Helena as a young woman in love - a social climber driven by a "taut passion"? - are difficult to bring together. Helena as God's love and Helena as human love are incompatible. But are they? Scholars, as we have noted,50 are becoming increasingly aware of the extent to which Shakespeare's vision was shaped by the medieval conception of the cosmos. The Elizabethans, as Tillyard has pointed out, modified considerably the immensely complex medieval world view;51 but they retained its essential features, the most important of which was the belief in a God whose rationality was manifested in the logical design of His creation. In the renaissance Weltanschauung, as everyone knows, all aspects of creation were united in a vast and intricate network of correspondences. The prince in the state corresponded, on the one hand, to God in heaven or to the father in the family and, on the other hand, to the sun in the heavens or to the eagle among birds, the lion among animals, et cetera. And in the duality of a poisonous flower Friar Laurence could see an analogy to the duality in man.52 Such correspondences suggest the rationale of creation, the luminous logic which lies behind the structure of the universe and which man can perceive through his intelligence. The habit of mind which found such relationships between the various levels of creation probably may ultimately be traced to an amalgamation of the Platonic conception of the relation of heaven to earth, Plato's theory of forms, and the Hebraic conception of man as an image of God. Since God had created man in His own image, human beings could be expected to possess God-like attributes. And so they did before the Fall. Now, however, according to the Elizabethan view, though, through God's mercy, they still have access to the wisdom of the angels, they may, because of their infected free will, fall to the level of the brute beasts. A human being may love like a Goneril or a Regan, 50

Supra, p. 98. Ε. M. W. Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1944), p. 2. 52 Romeo and Juliet, Π, iii, 23-30. 51

150

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

like a monster of the deep, or like a Helena. Just as the lowest form of human love, the love which is begotten of the senses alone, provides an analogue to animal passion, so the highest form of human love between the sexes - the most chaste and unselfish form of love in which sense is not obliterated by, but subordinated to, spirit - provides an imperfect analogue to God's love for man. The comments of the various characters in All's Well, as we have seen, clearly establish Helena as a divine agent in the world. And her actions make the theme even more specific. For they parallel in a rather striking way the actions of Christ: Because she wished Bertram well - and the eschatological current which the word well generated in Elizabethan times is of great significance throughout the play - 5 3 Helena put a body in her wish; so did God, wishing man well, assume a bodily form. As part of her campaign to heal Bertram spiritually, Helena, who had previously healed the King physically, resorts to a feigned death; and it is through her apparent resurrection that Bertram achieves redemption. Moreover, by substituting herself for Diana, Helena has saved Bertram from the commission of a sin. The substitution motif here, as in Measure for Measure,54 provides an analogue to the ransom paid by Christ for man. One begins to see how Shakespeare's imagination has responded to the folklore motifs which he used as the basis of All's Well. To the physical healing and substitution themes, which provided material for the unifying alchemy of the Christian imagination, he added the theme of spiritual healing through an apparent resurrection. One might suggest too - if only because so many critics have made mouths at the event - that the "degradation" which Helena suffers in becoming the recipient of Bertram's lust for another woman is a significant part of the substitution motif. For love of man Christ descended from the state of pure spirit, much to the horror of the neo-platonists, to that of the flesh and assumed the sufferings of 53 The levels of meaning in well are made explicit by the Clown's punning in II, iv, 1-13. M See Roy W. Battenhouse, "Measure for Measure and the Christian Doctrine of Atonement", PMLA, LXI (December, 1946), 1029-1059.

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

151

that flesh to redeem man. Does not Helena, in a sense, do the same thing? One other point helps to substantiate the analogous action which we have noted here. This action, the substitution of Helena for Diana, is a deception; but, as Helena notes, it is a lawful deception - and not, we might add, simply on the grounds of civil law, not simply because Helena was Bertram's wife. Her action is justified by theological precedent: for the devil was deceived by God when Christ was clothed in flesh. The device was perfectly just, according to theological reasoning, because the devil was himself a deceiver.55 The same type of reasoning applies to Bertram, who in his passion - " . . . for indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and of Limbo and of furies . . ." (V, iii, 260-262) - deceived or attempted to deceive Diana in order to seduce her. The hollowness of his promises is made strikingly evident in the final scene of the play. The lawful deceit practiced by Helena on Bertram is then analogous to that practiced by God on Satan when He clothed Christ in flesh in order to redeem man. If Helena's love is indeed meant to represent analogically the love of God for man - that is, if we can assume that the Elizabethan mind could perceive something of a connection between the purity of Helena's feeling for and unswerving devotion to Bertram in the face of his obstinate perversity, and God's love and devotion for errant humanity - , then one can only admire the art with which Shakespeare has fashioned this play. Those qualities which lead some critics to discern a Machiavellian quality in Helena's character make her a real woman. The tears that she sheds at the first of the play are not, as she tells us, 55

Cf. Gregory of Nyssa's conclusion to his meticulous explanation of the absolute moral purity of the deceit practiced by God upon Satan ("The Great Catechism", Select Writings and Letters of Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, trans, with prolegomena, notes, and indices, by William Moore and H. A. Wilson [ = A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, second series, Vol. V] New York, The Christian Literature Co., 1893), p. 95: "That repayment, adequate to the debt, by which the deceiver was in his turn deceived, exhibits the justice of the dealing, while the object aimed at is a testimony to the goodness of Him who effected it." The fact that such questions are no longer of importance to modern theologians indicates the extent to which the grand and holy alliance between faith and reason has been shredded. This alliance, though under attack, WES still strong in the RENAISSANCE.

152

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

meant for the memory of her father, as the Countess and Lafeu assume, but for the impending loss of Bertram. But how is it possible, realistically speaking, for her to confess this to them? Helena would certainly have lost her verisimilitude at the outset of the play had Shakespeare allowed her to correct their misconception of her sorrow - especially in front of Bertram! It is also perfectly understandable that she would attempt to hide her love for Bertram from the Countess; but when she is pressed on this point by her foster mother, she responds, as we have seen, with admirable sincerity and honesty. Moreover, her faltering at the King's gruffness, her attempt to pass up the reward she had asked for, her departure from Rousillon in order to make a pilgrimage of penance - these things mark her as a human being with the imperfect knowledge and insecurity which are part of the human lot. The folklore motifs which Shakespeare used as the basis of the plot structure of All's Well, though lending themselves conveniently to the Christian theme, do present a problem on the realistic level of the play. The problem of keeping Helena feminine, appealing, and real in the first half of the play Shakespeare met, I think, in the way I have outlined above. But, as H. S. Wilson has observed, it is even more difficult to sympathize with the Helena who is retracing the footsteps of the clever wench.69 The fact, however, that Helena's love is symbolically significant, that she is a divine agent and that Bertram is a young man who is in need of help, takes some of the edge off her actions: The symbolic element, that is to say, softens the outlines of the action on the realistic plane of the drama. But this is not enough. The problem remains; and Shakespeare has handled it as well, it seems, as it could be handled. He skillfully avoids alienating the audience's sympathy by the way in which he at once provides some justification for and camouflages Helena's actions in the second half of the play. To begin with, Helena comes across Bertram quite by accident. And she acts, realistically speaking, in order to save him from dishonor or, to put it on another plane, 56 Harold S. Wilson, "Dramatic Emphasis in All's Well That Ends Well", HLQ, ΧΠΙ (May, 1950), 225.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

153

to save him from himself. Moreover, though, as Wilson observes, the latter part of the plot calls for Helena to act in such a calculating manner that she is in danger of losing her hold on the audience's affection, Shakespeare has managed to divert our attention from Helena as master plotter by spotlighting the actions of other characters. Wilson states: At this danger point in the action, Helena, to whom our allegiance is now fully engaged, ceases to be the center of attention in the developing action. The Florentine widow and her daughter Diana, Parolles and his unmasking as a coward, the ordeal of Bertram at Roussillon, successively provide the focus of interest, while Helena works out her designs unobtrusively in the background. Diana becomes an alter ego for Helena in executing her bolder operations, while our original impression of the heroine is maintained by the attitude of the other characters toward her and what they say of her; it is the idea of Helena that sustains our impression of the consistency of her characer in the second episode, up to the moment when she reappears in her old role of the humble and devoted wife. 57

The symbolic overtones of Helena's character, the careful touches of psychological realism which give her breath, and the shifting of focus in the second half of the play - these devices contribute to the success of the thematic fusion of the real and the symbolic which Shakespeare brings off in All's Well. The phrase which Tillyard uses to describe Helena's passion, "formidable tautness",58 seems to be somewhat misleading. Similarly, in view of the texture of the play, it is a mistake to see in Helena (as well as in Lafeu and the Countess) a romantic flaw of which she is ultimately cured or to doubt the validity of the opinions of Lafeu, the King, and the Countess about Helena. Because she is human, Helena is not perfect, but there is nothing reprehensible in her character or in her actions. Otherwise the correspondence between her human love and the perfect love which it symbolizes would be lost. Furthermore, though it is, in a way, a miracle that Helena could care and continue to care for someone like Bertram, we should not be led to the conclusion of Tillyard, who finds irony in the fact that "with so much " Ibid., p. 226. 58 Tillyard, Shakespeare's Problem Plays, p. 111.

154

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"

intelligence and so firm a mind she can be possessed by so enslaving a passion for an unformed, rather stupid, morally timid, and very self-centered youth.. .".*· There is something ironic here, but not quite the irony which Tillyard sees. Human love is often just as incomprehensible as Shakespeare represents it in All's Well. And, for that matter, it is ironic and incomprehensible that God, with so much intelligence, should continue to love and watch over unformed, rather stupid, morally timid, and selfcentered man. There is a mystery at the heart of this love before which even the most ambitious of the Church Fathers bowed. If there is something ironic in the nature of Helena's love for Bertram, the joke is hardly on Helena. The real irony operates on a higher plane. As for Bertram, Shakespeare has taken pains to represent him as a misguided youth whose passions make him susceptible to dangerous errors. Easily influenced, guided by his emotions, he is an easy mark for showy Parolles. Though he reveals himself a moral coward, he has physical courage; and everyone recognizes that, beneath the fagade of corruption, there is something worthwhile in his character. Because he is natural man the web of Bertram's life "is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together..." (IV, iii, 83-84). Lafeu sums up what is meant to be our reaction to Bertram when he says to the Countess: No, no, no, your son was misled with a snip-taffeta fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour... (IV, v, 1-4) "As we are ourselves, What things are we!" Happily for Bertram, in the world of All's Well Fortune is a good lady - angels office all. In this staged world there is something which brings him out of himself, for the scales of moral sickness are made to fall from his eyes; he will, we may be sure, be able to see everything clearly. The pardon he asks for is forthcoming. He does indeed end well. I have maintained that All's Well is a rich play and that it does not fail in the sense that most of its more discerning critics have »· Ibid., p. 112.

" A L L ' S W E L L THAT ENDS

WELL"

155

believed it to fail. If the analogy between Helena's human love for Bertram and God's love for man can be granted, then the play is thematically secure. Structurally, the play is based on a modified version of the morality play. The ingenuity which characterizes this morality modification is as striking as the ingenuity which clusters the social and theological, the human and divine, the real and the symbolic into one action. Robert Y. Turner has placed All's Well in its historical context by connecting it to a group of dramas which he calls the "prodigal son" plays. Included in this group are How a Man May Fair Maid of Bristow, Measure for Measure, 1605; and The Wise

Choose a Good Wife from, a Bad, 1602; 1603-1604; The Dutch Courtesan, 1603; 1603-1604; The London Prodigal, 1603Woman of Hogsden, 1604. Though, he

observes, these plays appear to derive from satire and romance, they may represent a return to the morality version of the prodigal son and Griselda plays. They differ, however, from their predecessors in this way: . .. ideologically, the new prodigal son plays are distinguished from the old because the purgation prepares the sinner not for heaven but for married love. Structurally, the action does not progress by the struggle of the forces of good and evil for the soul of the hero; rather, the circumstances are arranged to be so unpleasant that by implication they cause the hero to undergo a change of character. In other words, the peripeteia is internalized.00

In All's Well, as I have attempted to show, the preparation for marital love on the realistic level of the play has eschatological overtones. The morality conflict has been modified in this way: Allegory has been transposed into a combination of psychological realism and symbolism. The fact that Bertram is attracted to Parolles indicates that he is dazzled by shiny appearances. And the symbolic nature of the conflict between reality and appearance, good and evil, is suggested in the structure of the play by the numerous juxtapositions of Parolles and Helena. Their symbolic struggle begins with the debate - the clash in a sense beM Robert Y. Turner, "Dramatic Conventions in All's Well That Ends Weir, PMLA, LXXV (December, I960), 498.

156

"ALL'S W E L L THAT ENDS W E L L "

tween body and soul, sense and spirit. Their paths cross again when Parolles, much to his dismay, learns that it is Helena who has healed the King. But Helena's victory is short-lived. Bertram leaves her for the second time, again in the company of Parolles, and this time to go to war. The qualities which a young man may acquire in camp as well as in court, we discover, are dubious ones. And when Helena sees Bertram again, she finds that he is engaged in a dishonorable enterprise, much of the responsibility for which is placed on Parolles. Helena is not present when Parolles is unmasked; but he is in on the final scene, shorn of all his pretense and influence, witnessing against Bertram. Clearly the Parolles-Helena junctures represent one of the most significant structural patterns in the play, even though Parolles' role is essentially passive while Helena's is active. The morality motif, we may conclude, is of the utmost importance in the structure of the play. On the one hand, Parolles represents appearances, the things of this world to which susceptible young noblemen can become addicted. But, the action of the play tells us, appearances are empty and deceptive; and the implication is that they can lead to damnation. Parolles, the "good drum", as Lafeu has called him, is associated with Mars or the blustering emptiness of war. Social appearances, the emptiness of the drum of war, the sin of lust, the corruption of honor - all form one part of the harmonious and complex vision of All's Well. In opposition to this element stands Helena: wisdom and virtue, action rather than words, acquired rather than inherited nobility, the "fullness" of chaste love (the happy union of Love and Diana), faith, the divine principle in the universe which resurrects fallen man - that aspect of life which saves a young man from what he is in himself. The morality pattern has also been modified in another, less obvious way. In the conventional morality the protagonist was openly tempted to sin by the vices and urged to good by the virtues. He, after falling away from the advice offered by the virtues, is saved when he calls for the mercy afforded him by Christ's ransom. In All's Well Bertram is not formally tempted or incited either to good or evil. It is clear, however, that he is

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS W E L L "

157

saved when he asks Helena's pardon. And this implicit eschatological salvation rests on the same premise as the explicit salvation of the morality protagonist. But whereas in the morality play the action of Christ is part of "the given" in the structure of the play -it is something which has been enacted before the play begins - , in All's Well the actions of Christ are duplicated, shadowed, or re-enacted on another plane by the actions of the chief character. The motifs of physical and spiritual healing, of bodily degradation, of the substitution, of death, of the deception of the devil in man, and of the resurrection - all are given substance in this drama through the principle of analogous action. All's Well That Ends Well does not represent a failure of Shakespeare's poetic imagination; the richness of its themes and the ingenuity of its dramatic construction reflect a superb amalgamation of form and meaning.

V. MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Like All's Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure is a play about which critics have had, and continue to have, sharply differing opinions. Prior to the publication of the interpretations of G. Wilson Knight 1 and R. W. Chambers,2 many prominent interpreters of Shakespeare considered Measure for Measure to be a product of Shakespeare's disillusionment with life. U. M. EllisFermor, in her investigation of The Jacobean Drama, maintained that, in this play, "the lowest depths of Jacobean negation are touched . . .".3 John Dover Wilson asserted that, when Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure, he "quite obviously believed in nothing; he was as cynical as Iago, as disillusioned as Macbeth . . .".4 And Ε. K. Chambers went so far as to say that, in this drama, "the searchlight of irony is thrown upon the paths of Providence itself'. 5 Taking issue with the biographical school of Shakesperian criticism, R. W. Chambers set about to refute the dark interpretations of those critics who read nothing but cynicism and disenchantment into Measure for Measure. His witty and compel1 G. Wilson Knight, "Measure for Measure and the Gospels", The Wheel of Fire (London, Oxford University Press, 1930), pp. 73-96. 4 R. W. Chambers, "The Jacobean Shakespeare and Measure for Measure", Proceedings of the British Academy, XXIII (London, Oxford University Press, 1937), pp. 135-192. 3 Ibid., p. 161. Quoted by Chambers from U. M. Ellis-Fermor's The Jacobean Drama (1936). 4 Ibid., p. 163. Quoted by Chambers from J. Dover Wilson's The Essential Shakespeare (1933). 5 Ibid., p. 184. Quoted by Chambers from Ε. K. Chamber's article in the Encyclopaedia Britannica (1911).

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

159

ling corrective rejoinder to this point of view stands as a milestone in the critical history of Measure for Measure. Though Knight's interpretation supersedes his by several years, Chamber's article appears to have exerted more influence on succeeding interpreters. In it he maintains that Measure for Measure is a Christian play, "a consistent tale of intercession for sin, repentance from and forgiveness of crime".® It appears that he would be in full agreement with Knight's view that, whenever the thought or action of the play appears unreasonable, it does so because it reflects "the sublime strangeness and unreason of Jesus' teaching".7 This position has been supported by an impressive array of interpretations from such scholars as M. C. Bradbrook,8 W. M. T. Dodds,» R. W. Battenhouse,10 Nevill Coghill,11 and J. A. Bryant, Jr.12 Though these critics approach Measure for Measure from different perspectives and though they do not agree in all particulars either with Chambers or with each other, they do proceed on the assumption that the vision which informs this drama is Christian. The Christian point of view, which has apparently become the majority point of view, has, however, not found acceptance in all quarters. Clifford Leech, for example, acknowledges the Christian coloring in Measure for Measure but believes that it is only intermittent and that it is not consciously employed; in « Ibid., p. 189. 7 Knight, op. cit., p. 96. Chambers was apparently unaware of Knights's interpretation at the time he wrote his article. 8 M. C. Bradbrook, "Authority, Truth and Justice in Measure for Measure", The Review of English Studies, XVII (October, 1941), 385-399. 9 W. Μ. T. Dodds, "The Character of Angelo in Measure for Measure", Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, ed. with Introduction by Robert Ornstein (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1961), pp. 88-96. 10 Roy W. Battenhouse, "Measure for Measure and the Christian Doctrine of Atonement", PMLA, LXI (December, 1946), 1029-1059). 11 Nevill Coghill, "Comic Form in Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey 8 (1955), pp. 14-28. 12 J. A. Bryant, Jr., "Measure for Measure", Hippolyta's View: Some Christian Aspects of Shakespeare's Plays (University of Kentucky Press, 1961), pp. 86-108.

160

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

short, "it does not determine the play's characteristic effect". 1 * The most detailed attack on this position, however, comes from Mary Lascelles, who is particularly disturbed by the figurative interpretation made by some of the Christian interpreters. The analogy which these critics see between Vincentio and God she considers indefensible; for the fact that the Duke is responsible for the corruption in Vienna, she says, nullifies the possibility of allegory: Even under an ideal system of justice . . . the discovery of wrong might well be impossible were it not for the intervention of divine providence whioh, on some particular occasion, puts it into the heart of this or that human agent to make a pertinent inquiry. Now, this is in keeping with popular thought, which comes very near to supposing an element of caprice in divine government, because it does not look ahead, but complacently descries pieces of pattern in particular events, without considering the ugly unreason of the total design which such parts must compose. But, how fearfully the distance between this false start and its logical conclusion diminishes, if the ruler is regarded not as agent but as emblem of divine providence! It is difficult to believe that those who would have us interpret the Duke's part so can have followed the implied train of thought all the way.14 The right way to approach the play, says Miss Lascelles, is through a study of the characters in relation to one another and not through "a pursuit of phantoms: of inner and innermost meanings derived from word or phrase that has been isolated from its context; of an intention not demonstrably the dramatist's".16 18

Clifford Leech, "The Meaning of Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 3 (1950), pp. 66-73. 14 Mary Lascelles, Shakespeare's Measure for Measure (London, The Athlone Press, 1953), p. 99. 15 Ibid., p. 142. It is interesting to note that Professor Lascelles, in presenting her own interpretation of the play, finds the Duke to be analogous to Shakespeare: " . . . it surely appears that the Duke's activity in presenting what I have called his interlude of Justice bears some analogy with the activity of a writer of tragi-comedy, when he propounds a situation from which no happy issue seems possible, and then deploys a power strong enough to avert the expected ill. So, indeed, does the part for which he has cast himself, in this Interlude, with his course throughout the play active alternating with passive, in each, according to a preconceived plan.

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

161

Standing between these two positions is the interpretation of Ε. M. Pope, who finds the play thoroughly Christian but who, like Miss Lascelles, denies the implications of the figurative interpretation. According to renaissance theory, Miss Pope observes, the authority of the ruler derived from God; the ruler is God's substitute on earth. She thus comes to this conclusion: Any Renaissance audience would have taken it for Duke did indeed "stand for" God, but only as "stood for" Him: and if he behaved "like power because that was the way a good ruler was expected self."

granted that the any good ruler divine", it was to conduct him-

An analysis of a Shakespeare play should begin with a study of the relationships of the characters to each other within the context of the play as a whole; here we may certainly agree with Miss Lascelles. But it is important to observe, as J. R. Bryant does, that if we stop our analysis at this point, we may well lose that aspect of the drama which may be considered as poem 17 and which may, we should add, cast much light on the overall significance of the action which has transpired. Whether such a pursuit turs out to be "a pursuit of phantoms", whether the critic who follows such a trail finds an "intention not demonstrably the dramatist's" depends, after all, upon the line of reasoning that the critic uses and upon the weight of the evidence that he presents to support his conclusions. To deny the significance of connotation and allusion, to repudiate all analogy which is not allegory - this seems to me to constrict the potentiality of literary creation. (It is difficult to believe that Miss Lascelles has followed her implied train of thought all the way.) This kind of analysis is, of course, the only kind which can substantiate the position which the Christian interpreters have taken. Also, it is only this kind of interpretation which can cast doubt on Miss I think it probable, therefore, that - whether by a train of thought or some swifter, intuitive process - Shakespeare acknowledged a correspondence between the Duke's undertaking and his own, even as he was to acknowledge, more explicitly, his kinship with Prospero" (p. 146). 18 Elizabeth Marie Pope, "The Renaissance Background of Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 2 (1949), p. 71. 17 Bryant, op. cit., p. 87.

162

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

Pope's assertion that the King-God analogy is not employed as anything more than a conventional metaphor in the structure of the play. But let us begin on absolutely solid ground. Let us review the action of the play, noting the more significant actions and speeches so that, by seeing them in compressed form, we may be better able to begin an assessment of the significance of the action as a whole. In order to be able to see central structural nodes of the play in their relation to one another, we shall, in our summary, omit references to minor characters and minor actions whenever possible. The significance of these to the structure of the play may be more profitably considered later. Measure for Measure begins with Duke Vincentio's hasty preparations for departure from Vienna. He has decided, we learn, to leave the reins of government in the hands of two men, Escalus and Angelo. Though Escalus is the elder of the two, Angelo is elected to assume the authority of the absent Duke. One of the prominent themes of the play is forecast when the Duke, in informing Escalus of the honor which he plans to confer upon Angelo, muses over the question of how his deputy will conduct himself in his new position: What figure of us think you he will bear? For you must know, we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply, Lent him our terror, dress'd him with our love, And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power... (I, i, 17-22) The way in which Angelo responds to his deputation, the manner in which he reacts to the power which is thrust upon him, sets the thematic course of the play. When we next see the Duke, he is in a monastery where he has gone into hiding in order to assume a disguise so that he may move about the city freely. His purpose in giving up for a time the government of his kingdom he explains to Friar Thomas. It seems that the Duke has been too merciful a ruler; consequently his realm is plagued with disorder: " . . . . liberty plucks jus-

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

163

tice by the nose; / The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart / Goes all decorum" (I, ii, 29-31). Feeling that, since it was his "fault to give the people scope", it would be tyranny for him to enforce the long-neglected statutes, he has selected Lord Angelo, a man whose strictness of temper and severe personal discipline are well known, to rule for a time in his place. By virtue of his disguise the Duke intends to keep a close watch on his people and the new deputy prince. With regard to the latter he comments: . . . hence shall we see, If power change purpose, what our seemers be. (I, iii, 53-54)

The two themes of liberty and power have been drawn together by a preceding scene in which Claudio, a young man in love, is carried off to prison because of the pregnancy of Juliet, his fiancee. The new deputy has already put into force a law that prohibits cohabitation before marriage and that calls for the death penalty for transgressors. Claudio's present restraint, his arrest by the law, he tells his friend Lucio, comes from "too much liberty". Claudio then bitterly questions the motives of the man responsible for his arrest: Angelo's severity, he suggests, may be due to "the fault and glimpse of newness" (I, ii, 162) power may have turned his head, or he may be afraid that his power will not be respected. In either case, according to Claudio, the deputy . . . for a name Now puts the drowsy and neglected act Freshly on me: 'tis surely for a name. (I, ii, 173-175)

The final scene of Act Claudio's sister Isabella, and Francisca, a sister theme is echoed in their

I opens with a conversation between a novice of the order of Saint Clare, of that nunnery. The liberty-restraint speech:

Isab.: And have you nuns no farther privileges? Fran.: Are not these large enough? Isab.: Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare. (I,iv, 1-5)

164

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

The dialogue is interrupted by the arrival of Lucio, who, in compliance with the request of Claudio, has come to ask Isabella to intercede for her unhappy brother by begging mercy of Angelo. Lucio puts the matter clearly into focus. Against the plenary authority of Angelo, "a man whose blood / Is very snowbroth . . ." (I, iv, 57-58), and who is determined to chastise the excesses of liberty, Isabella must employ her "grace" (69) and "power" (75) to soften Angelo's rigid heart and save her brother's life. At first doubtful of her abilities, Isabella, upon being incited to action and encouraged by Lucio, becomes confident of success in the undertaking. The opening scene of Act II attests to the validity of Claudio's analysis of Angelo. It is indeed true that his office has turned his head. When Escalus pleads for mercy for Claudio, the pompous Angelo, pushing aside an appeal to his humanity, coldly assumes the impersonality of the abstract law and haughtily asserts his willingness to be tried by the same standards he is applying to the conviction of Claudio: . . . What's open made to justice, That justice seizes; what knows the laws That thieves do pass on thieves? . . . You may not so extenuate his offence For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, When I, that censure him, do so offend, Let mine own judgement pattern out my death, And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die. (II, i, 21-23, 27-31)

The appeal to human fallibility that Escalus makes in his attempt to convince Angelo to mitigate the severity of Claudio's punishment falls on proud ears. Angelo stands for absoluteness. All traces of the humility with which he had accepted his assignment - "Now, good my lord, / Let there be some more test made of my mettle, / Before so noble and so great a figure / Be stamp'd upon it" (I, i, 48-51) - have disappeared. Escalus' aside seems aptly to sum up what has happened to Angelo: Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. (II, i, 38)

165

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

Scene two finds another advocate for Claudio, the Provost, being summarily shunted aside. Angelo never doubts the wisdom of his course. Then comes the first high point of the play, the interview between Isabella and Angelo. Urged on by the overt encouragement of Lucio - "Giv't not o'er so: to him again, entreat him . . . You are too cold . . . (II, ii, 43, 45) - and the moral encouragement of the Provost whose demeanor must reveal to her that which his asides tell the audience - "Heaven give thee moving graces!" (II, ii, 36) and "Pray heaven she win him!" - Isabella, after a somewhat tame beginning, confronts Angelo's cold justice with what may well be called the logic of mercy. Like Escalus, she attempts to make Angelo aware of the conditions of his humanity. If Angelo were to change positions with Claudio, she says, he would not find her brother to be so severe. When this fails to move Angelo, who attempts to dismiss his eloquent gadfly, she cries: I would to heaven I had your potency And you were Isabel! should it then be thus? No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner. (II, ii, 66-70)

Still Angelo does not shift from his position: she is wasting her time; her brother "is a forfeit of the law . . ." (II, ii, 71). His choice of words directs Isabella to the peak of her argument. The executor of human justice is confronted with the precedent of divine mercy: Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.

But Angelo refuses to allow himself to be personally involved; it is the law, he contends, which is responsible for the sentence of Claudio. And he goes on to explain the logic of the position of the law. Had the law been enforced, had the first person who

166

"measure f o r measure"

committed Claudio's sin been punished, then many sins would never have been committed. Angelo says that, by punishing Claudio, he is showing pity for those he does not know, the ones who might suffer in the future from the consequences of a dismissed offence, and for the guilty one himself, who, having suffered the consequences of one "foul wrong", is spared from committing another. Such specious logic leads Isabella to great heights of emotion. Though it is well, she says, to have a giant's strength, to use it like a giant is to be a tyrant. And how pathetic, laughable, and painful it is to see man misuse his authority: Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder; Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. (II, ii, 110-123)

The theme of authority misconceived and misdirected could hardly be presented more sharply. This reprimand delivered, Isabella returns to her original argument, that all human beings are united in the bondage of sin: Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's f a u l t . . . (II, ii, 136-138)

Isabella is not suggesting that the law be abrogated, that license for evil be granted. But in this instance the penalty for the crime is extreme; and no human being has the right to exact such a penalty for such a crime, particularly in view of the fact that the judge may well be, in some measure, as guilty as the prisoner.

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

167

Authority, as Isabella points out, though it may err like everything else human, has "yet a kind of medicine in itself,/ That skins the vice o' the top" (II, ii, 135-136). Authority, that is to say, has the power to offer mercy - and the precedent for it; for it is only because of the mercy of the Supreme Authority that all representatives of earthly authority are not forfeit souls. Thus Isabella, ending a powerfully sustained plea, sums up by asking Angelo to spare her brother's life: If you find in your heart, she says, "A natural guiltiness such as is his, / Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue / Against my brother's life" (II, ii, 139141). At last Angelo is moved: She speaks, and 'tis Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. (II, ii, 142-143)

He promises to think over the case and asks Isabella to return the next day. Ironically enough, the speech on natural guiltiness has hit closer home than Isabella realizes. Apparently for the first time in his life Angelo's senses have been stirred lasciviously. Her very goodness arouses that which is most evil in him, and he cries out against the devil which tempts him: Ο cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, With saints dost bait A y hook! (II, ii, 180-181)

His attempts to ward off temptation, however, are fruitless. Like the Claudius of Hamlet, Angelo is able to send only empty words to heaven. His mind "anchors on Isabel" (II, iv, 4). He admits to himself that he has taken pride in his gravity, that his appearance of good is belied by the ugly reality of his character: . . . Ο place, Ο form, How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, Wrench awe from fools and tie the wiser souls To thy false seeming! (II, iv, 12-15)

and gives himself over to evil and the gratification of his passion:

168

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

. . . Blood, thou art blood: Let's write good angel on the devil's horn . . . (II, iv, 15-16)

When Isabella returns for her second interview, Angelo offers her the opportunity to exchange her virtue for her brother's life. And when the horrified Isabella, out of desperation, threatens to expose his hypocrisy: . . . Seeming, seeming! . . . Sign me a present pardon for my brother Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world aloud What man thou art, (II, iv, 150, 152-154)

Angelo reminds her of his impeccable reputation. No one would believe her: "Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true" (II, iv, 170). Isabel is given a day in which to make her decision, but her mind is already made up. She is certain that her brother would never allow her to make such a dishonorable exchange. Confidently she asserts: More than our brother is our chastity. I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. (II, iv, 185-187)

Before Isabella arrives to tell Claudio of Angelo's villainy, the Duke, who in his disguise as Friar Lodowick has already made sure of Juliet's repentance (II, iii), now proceeds to test Claudio's mettle. Claudio's hope for living he dismisses as unreasonable in view of the cruelty of life. After hearing the Duke out, Claudio assures him that his mind is changed: To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on. (Ill, i, 43-44)

But he is nonetheless eager, when Isabella comes to visit him, to find whether her pleas have been successful. He discovers that there is indeed one hope for life - that, as Isabella puts it, there is a "devilish mercy" in this "outward-sainted deputy". Claudio's first reaction to the offer is shocked surprise: "The

169

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

prenzie Angelo!" (Ill, i, 94). But even though her brother has already bravely offered to "encounter darkness as a bride, / And hug it in mine arms" (III, i, 84-85), Isabella must read weakness in his eyes. Thus, apparently in an effort to preclude the possibility of a surrender to the temptation of evil, she reminds Claudio of what Angelo stands for: O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, The damned'st body to invest and cover In prenzie guards! (Ill, i, 95-97)

But Claudio gives way to his desire to live anyway. Thoughts of the finality and the degradation of death To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod . . . -

break his spirit, overcoming the force of his sister's implicit plea to remain a man of courage and honor and the Duke's lesson of life, that it is foolish to fear death; for, as he sees it now: The weariest and most loathed wordly life That age, ache, penury and imprisonment Can lay on nature is a paradise To what we fear of death. ( I l l , i, 1 2 9 - 1 3 2 )

Thus he begs: Sweet sister, let me live . . . (Ill, i, 133)

But if this is Claudio's lowest point as a man, it is also, in some ways, Isabella's nadir as a woman.18 She has not been successful in overcoming the weakness which she sensed in Claudio, and perhaps there is as much frustration as disappointment in her shrilly brutal and bitterly contemptuous denunciation: Ο you beast! Ο faithless coward! Ο dishonest wretch! 18

Cf. Bryant, ibid., p. 97.

170

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? Is't not a kind of incest, to take life From thine own sister's shame? . . . Take my defiance! Die, perish! Might but my bending down Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed: I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, No word to save thee. (Ill, i, 136-140, 143-147)

It is at this point that the Duke, who has been observing the proceedings, steps directly into the action of the play. Henceforth the reins are in his hands. After first securing Isabella's promise to wait for him while he talks to her brother, he goes to Claudio to tell him that he is Angelo's confessor and that the suggestion Isabella had told him of was made only to test her virtue. Thus, he observes, the hope which led Claudio to attempt to barter his sister's honor was ill-founded. This news converts the unhappy prisoner to the state of mind which the Friar-Duke had engendered in him earlier. He is ready to ask his sister pardon and so out of love with life that he will depart from it willingly. Like his partner in sin, Juliet, he is truly repentant. Then the Duke approaches Isabella to tell her that he is aware of her predicament. "How", he wonders, "will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother?" (Ill, i, 193). Isabella's determination to retain her chastity has not been altered by her brother's plea. She says that she plans to let Angelo know that his wishes will not be carried out. But the Duke tells her he has a plan - "To the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself" (III, i, 205-206). He knows of a young woman, Mariana, whose engagement to Angelo was broken when her dowry was lost at sea. The Duke suggests that Isabella accept Angelo's proposal; he will then ask Mariana to take Isabella's place at the dark and silent assignation which she is to arrange. Thus his plan should "most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit: redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious person; and much please the absent duke . . . " (Ill, i, 207-210). He assures her that the benefit from the plan "defends the deceit from reproof" (III, i, 271-272).

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

171

Isabella having accepted his proposal, the Duke sets out to present his plan to Mariana. On the way he meets Lucio, who engages him in conversation. Lucio, not realizing, of course, that the Friar he is talking to is really the Duke,19 comments freely on the Duke's character. "It was", he says, "a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to" (III, ii, 98-100). The garrulous rogue then comments on the unnaturalness of Angelo's behavior and assures the Friar that the Duke would not punish Claudio for such a sin because the Duke himself was guilty of the like and worse crimes of lust. Thus the theme of the slander of princes enters the play; and, after Lucio's departure, the Duke soliloquizes: N o might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? (Ill, ii, 196-199)

The Duke then sees Mistress Overdone being led away to prison and learns that it is through Lucio's information that she has been caught. Ironically, Mistress Overdone had been taking care of Lucio's child by one of her employees, Mistress Kate Keepdown, whom he had promised to marry after she became pregnant. Since the child is now over a year old and Lucio is still a bachelor, it is obvious that his word is not to be trusted. The Friar-Duke next encounters Escalus, who also enters into conversation with him. Escalus tells of his unsuccessful attempt to change Angelo's mind about the sentence of Claudio: . . . but my brother justice have I found so severe, that he hath forced me to tell him be is indeed Justice. (Ill, ii, 265-267)

Also important structurally is Escalus' appraisal of the Duke's character, which seems designed to contrast with the evaluation that Lucio has delivered not long before. In response to the Friar's 19 The reference to the Duke's beggary leads Coghill (op. cit., pp. 23-24) to believe that Lucio has penetrated the disguise. I would be more inclined to regard this reference as an example of dramatic irony. Lucio, I take it, uses the phrase figuratively, not realizing just how apt it is.

172

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

query, Escalus observes that the Duke was "One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself" (III, ii, 245246). He was, continues Escalus, a man "rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at any thing which professed to make him rejoice: a gentleman of all temperance" (III, ii, 248-50). After Escalus departs, the Duke broods on the evil of Angelo: O, what may man within him hide Though angel on the outward side! (Ill, ii, 285-286)

To thwart such vice, he adds, he must make use of craft: Mariana must lie with her fiancee that night: So disguise shall, by the disguised Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting. (Ill, ii, 294-296)

The Duke then visits Mariana and convinces her that there is no sin in the deception he plans: He is your husband on a pre-contract: To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin, Sith that the justice of your title to him Doth flourish the deceit. (IV, i, 72-75)

She agrees to act as a substitute for Isabella; and the Duke proceeds to the prison. He waits there, fully expecting Angelo to live up to his bargain with Isabella and reprieve her brother; but to his surprise he discovers that the Provost has received a message admonishing him to go ahead with the execution of Claudio and his fellow prisoner Barnadine. The Provost is further instructed to send Claudio's head to Angelo afterwards. Upon learning that Barnadine is "A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep . . . " (IV, ii, 149-150), the Duke conceives the plan of substituting Barnadine's head for that of Claudio. In an arresting passage, he tells the Provost that, unless his ancient skill beguiles him, he reads honesty in him; and he goes on to say:

" M E A S U R E FOR M E A S U R E "

173

. . . in the boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenced him. (IV, ii, 165-169)

He asks the Provost to trust him and secures his consent by showing him the seal of the Duke, who will, he says, unawares to Angelo, be returning soon. He concludes: Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but easy when they are known. (IV, ii, 218-221)

The Duke's second projected deception, however, receives a momentary setback, when, in what is surely the most amusing scene in the play, the unregenerate Barnadine, awakened by the substitute executioner, Pompey, sullenly refuses to die that day and contribute his head to the Duke's plot. The Duke finds himself in a dilemma, for "to transport him in the mind he is / were damnable" (IV, iii, 72-73); but he is rescued by "an accident that heaven provides" (IV, iii, 81), the unexpected death by fever of another prisoner, Ragozine. In effect, heaven has provided a substitute for the substitute. The Duke decides to keep his plan from Isabella, intending "To make her heavenly comforts of despair, / When it is least expected" (IV, iii, 114-115). Believing that Claudio has been executed, Isabella reacts angrily and bitterly: "Ο, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! . . . Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! / Injurious world! most damned Angelo!" (IV, iii, 124, 126-127). The Duke calmly points out that such outbursts are of no use whatsoever and urges her to give her cause to heaven. If she will follow his directions, he says, she will receive grace from the Duke, revenge to satisfy her heart, and general honor. Again, Isabella allows herself to be guided by the Friar, who has become her spiritual adviser. In the meantime Angelo has received several communications from the Duke, the last of which instructs him as to the time of his return and the place appointed for the relinquishment of the deputy's authority. Angelo finds the Duke's letters "uneven" and "distracted". "His actions", he says, "show much like to madness: pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted" (IV, iii, 3-5). But

174

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

Angelo is more preoccupied with the enormity of his crime, even though he does not believe it possible that Isabella will accuse him publicly: " . . . her tender shame / Will not proclaim against her maiden loss . . . " (IV, iii ,26-27). He wishes that he could have let Claudio live but believes that it would have been too dangerous. The shame of such a ransom might have led him to revenge. It is obvious, however, that Angelo is stricken with remorse. He cries: "Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, / Nothing goes right: we would, and we would not" (IV, iii, 36-37). Yet he feels safe; he has no idea of the plot that is directed against him. In accordance with the Duke's instructions, Angelo meets his superior at the City Gate, where he is praised by the Duke for his faithfulness in discharging his duties. Then, to Angelo's consternation, Isabella, led by Friar Peter, a confederate of the Duke's, steps forth and demands justice from the Duke. The Duke refers her to Angelo, who, he says, shall give her justice. By so directing her, she answers, he bids her seek "redemption of the devil"; for Angelo is a liar, murderer, hypocrite, virginviolator, and thief. Though the Duke accepts Angelo's explanation that the girl's wits have not been firm since her brother's execution, he comments that her madness seems to have a frame of sense. Encouraged by the Duke's response, Isabella, who is still unaware that the Duke is the Friar who has conceived the scheme of which she has become a part, begs him to use his reason "To make the truth appear where it seems hid,/And hide the false seems true" (V, i, 66-67). But the Duke, upon hearing her story, pretends to scorn it. Angelo's integrity witnesses against such acts, he observes; and, furthermore, surely, "if he had so offended, / He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself / And not have cut him off" (V, i, 110-112). He then demands to know who has put her up to such an accusation. When the name of Friar Lodowick is mentioned, Lucio, who has been trying to ingratiate himself with the Duke, asserts that this Lodowick has spoken against the Duke. The pressure begins to be lifted from Angelo, as the Duke says angrily:

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

175

Words against me! this is a good friar, belike! And to set on this wretched woman here Against our substitute. (V, i, 131-133)

And then Friar Peter steps forward to say that Angelo has been wrongfully accused by Isabella: The deputy is not guilty of soiling her honor. He says that he speaks for Lodowick, who is "sick . . . of a strange fever", and he brings Mariana forward to disprove Isabella's story. But Angelo's relief is short-lived. For Mariana, who regards herself as Angelo's legal wife,20 reveals that she had substituted herself for Isabel in the illicit assignation arranged by Angelo. The uncomfortable deputy defends himself from this latest charge by asserting first that he had broken relations with Mariana not merely because of her lost dowry but mainly because "her reputation was disvalued / In levity . . . " (V, i, 221-222). He goes on to say that he has had no relationship with her of any sort for five years and adds that he suspects Mariana and Isabel are "instruments of some more mighty member / That sets them on . . . " (V, i, 235-238). He requests permission to ferret him out. The Duke, after granting his request and giving him full power to deal with the offenders, excuses himself from the proceedings. Angelo now must believe himself completely safe from the danger of exposure which has treatened him. The Duke, however, returns in his disguise as Friar Lodowick. And the incorrigible Lucio, ever the opportunist, loses no time in attempting to ingratiate himself with Angelo. Believing he knows which way the political winds are blowing, he boldly accuses the disguised Friar of his own crime - slander: And was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? (V, i, 336-338) 10 Cf. W. W. Lawrence (Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, second edition, New York, Frederick Unger Publishing Co., 1960, p. 95): "Such a betrothal as Mariana's was held in Elizabethan days to have much the binding force of the complete marriage ceremony, and to confer marital rights." See also Davis Harding's "Elizabethan Betrothals and Measure for Measure", JEGP, XLIX (April, 1950), 139-158.

176

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

Pretending great anger when the Friar turns the charges back upon him, Lucio pulls off the Friar's hood, and much to his own dismay, exposes the Duke, who promptly takes charge of the proceedings. After calling for the release of Friar Peter, Mariana, and Isabel, and ordering the arrest of Lucio, the Duke turns his attention to Angelo, who has only this to say for himself: Ο my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive your grace, like power divine, Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince, No longer session -hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession: Immediate sentence then and sequent death Is all the grace I beg. (V, i, 371-379)

The Duke dispatches Angelo and Mariana to be married. He then calls Isabella to him and, continuing part of his deception, says that he had been unable to save Claudio because Angelo's duplicity had taken him by surprise. Thus, when the newly-married Angelo returns, Isabella, who has revealed herself to be a woman of fiery temper, is, in effect, offered the "revenges to your heart" promised earlier by the Duke. As he points out before sentencing Angelo: The very mercy of the law cries out Most audible, even from his proper tongue, 'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!' Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure: Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still for MEASURE. (V, i, 412-416)

But, upon hearing the Duke order Angelo to the block, Mariana falls to her knees in supplication. When her gesture fails to win a reprieve for her husband, she turns in despair to Isabel, crying: "Lend me your knees . . . " (V, i, 436). Such a request, interrupts the Duke, is against all sense; for "Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact, / Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, / And take her hence in horror" (V, i, 439-441). In spite

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

177

of the Duke's protestations, Mariana continues to hope "Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me . . . Ο Isabel, will you not lend a knee?" (V, i, 442, 450). The Duke again makes clear the nature of such a decision: "He dies for Claudio's death" (V, i, 448). Nevertheless, Isabel rises to the occasion: Most bounteous sir, Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my brother lived... (V, i, 448-450)

Isabel, in the face of all that has happened, kneels to ask mercy for Angelo! The Duke, however, tells her that her suit is unprofitable. He then calls for Barnadine. While they are awaiting that worthy's entrance, kind old Escalus speaks to Angelo of his sorrow for the heat of blood and lack of judgment that have led the unhappy deputy to such an unfortunate position. Angelo's reply reveals his sincere and complete repentance: I am sorry that such sorrow I procure: And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart That I crave death more willingly than mercy; 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. (V, i, 479-482)

At this point Barnadine enters, and the Duke tells this "stubborn soul", who does not think beyond this world, that he is pardoned for all his faults; he urges him to "take this mercy to provide / For better times to come" (V, i, 489-490). Then the Duke unveils his last surprise. Claudio is revealed alive, and Angelo receives a pardon. There remains the matter of Lucio, who is ordered to marry the mother of his child. He is then to be hanged for his slanders. The latter punishment the Duke remits, and the play concludes with the Duke's prognosis for a happy future: Claudio is to marry Juliet, Angelo to love Mariana, the Provost to be promoted, and Isabel to be afforded the chance to become a duchess. Now that we have viewed the actions of the chief characters

178

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

within the context of the larger action that the play embraces, let us isolate the two most significant structural patterns in the drama. These patterns are woven by the actions of Angelo and Isabella. Angelo is a young man whose impeccable reputation was, to a great extent, a result of a fugitive and cloistered virtue. At the time of his political elevation he was, we may assume, almost a stranger to temptation. Certainly he was not, at any rate, strongly conscious of the frailty of his own flesh. So it was that, upon receiving power, he set about to remake the world, or Vienna, in his own image. He lost sight of his own humanity in the process, having attempted to assume the impersonality and abstractness, the grandeur, of the law. In defending the sentence which he passed upon Claudio, he pompously asserts, "When I, that censure him, do so offend, / Let mine own judgement pattern out my death. . ."; and this, his judgment on himself, is echoed by the Duke several times during the course of the play. Ironically and significantly enough, the temptation presented by Isabel's saintliness and beauty results in Angelo's being put into a position which corresponds almost exactly to that of Claudio.21 Even more ironically, the offense which he desires to commit is far more reprehensible than the one that Claudio has committed. Angelo is spurred on only by the hot breath of lust; Claudio, for all his frailties, loved Juliet and fully intended to marry her. Angelo's predicament strikingly dramatizes the folly of human pride. This richly ironic situation is at the core of Measure for Measure. Actually, without realizing it, Angelo had begun to sin even before succumbing, or attempting to succumb, to the corruption which his infected senses demanded. He sinned in failing to realize the frailty of his own flesh. Man cannot, in the Christian scheme of things, live by the law alone. This is the lesson which Angelo learns the bitter way. When he begins to enforce the longneglected statutes, he does it, not impersonally as he thought, but, as Claudio suspected, for a name, for the sweetness of a " It is interesting to note that Angelo gave up marriage because his fiam^e lost her dowry while Claudio only put off his marriage so that his fiancee would be sure to have a dowry.

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

179

grand appearance. Yet he is, apparently, not at first consciously hypocritical. It is not until he gives way to his feeling for Isabel - as she herself points out (V, i, 450-452) - that he becomes consciously a hypocrite as well as a sinner. Escalus' comment on the adamantine firmness of Angelo's decision to execute Claudio, " . . . some by virtue fall", well explains Angelo's position prior to his meetings with Isabel. There is, however, another part of this remark which also has thematic significance: "Some rise by sin." For this, too, proves true for Angelo. The temptation which Isabella presents him and his consequent plummeting from any pretense of grace do have a most important result: Angelo learns to know himself, to know what it is to be a man. He realizes what perhaps heretofore he has been careful to keep from himself, that he has taken pride in his reputation for gravity. And knowing himself at last for what he is, a sin-ridden man, the devil within him though angel on the outward side, he abandons himself to evil; he becomes a derelict soul. But - and this is important - not without remorse. At one point, thinking of Claudio's death and the necessity for it, he observes despairingly that once we - and here he includes himself with all humanity - have forgotten our grace, nothing goes well. Moreover, when he finds himself confronted with his evil, his repentance is complete and satisfying. He does not attempt to mitigate his faults; he seeks only death. But because his criminal lust has been thwarted - thanks to Mariana's substitution - and because he has not become guilty of sentencing a human being to death for a crime of which he himself is guilty - thanks to the substitution of Ragozine's head - , Angelo is saved from death. Angelo's salvation, we may say, in short, is a result of two factors: (1) the intercession on the part of a power or authority that supersedes Angelo's law and (2) the remorse and repentance that the corrupted deputy displays. In the pattern which Angelo's folly traces we may see, if we adopt the Christian viewpoint, the plight of all human beings; we shall return to the larger implications of this pattern when we explore the symbolic aspects of Measure for Measure. For now it is sufficient to note the specific theme suggested by the rise

180

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

and fall of Angelo: The ruler or justicer who forgets the essential condition of his humanity, that were it not for the ransom of Christ he would be a forfeit of the law, one more powerful and decisive than the one he himself represents - such an individual may play such ape-like tricks before the glass of heaven as to make the angels weep. Complementing the structural pattern which emerges from the actions of Angelo is that which may be discerned by tracing Isabel's course through the play. If Angelo does indeed become Justice, human and fallible, then Isabel becomes that Mercy which is of divine origin but within the range of the human spirit. Just as Angelo sets up a test for his puritanical self-righteousness, so Isabella, early in the play (II, ii, 66-70, 73-79), outlines a test for her character. She tells Angelo that, were their positions reversed, she would show him what it means to be a judge; and she goes on to cite the supreme example of mercy made by the Supreme Judge. The implication is that Isabel would not, in any human judgment, forget the example which Christ had set. At the outset of the play there is a obvious parallel drawn between Angelo and Isabel. Like Angelo, Isabel desires more restraint and less liberty. Like Angelo, she is a saintly creature; perhaps, too, she is like Angelo in lacking a certain amount of human warmth. (One thinks of Lucio's comments when Isabella seeks mercy for her brother, "You are too cold", II, ii, 45, 56). But, again like Angelo, though not on the same scale, she is capable of tremendous passion. To understand the full significance of her request to pardon Angelo, we must keep in mind her responses to Claudio's quite human, if regrettable, desire to live at the expense of his sister's honor and to the news that Angelo has, by executing Claudio, failed to live up to his part of the bargain that Isabel pretended to negotiate with him. Though one cannot blame Isabel for being disappointed in her brother - and certainly no one should expect her to comply with his weakness - the passion in her response suggests an appalling human infirmity, the inability to sympathize with a frightened young man who, in shuddering at the icy implications of the grave, lets all thought of honor slip from his mind; such an infirmity is, in a

" M E A S U R E FOR

MEASURE"

181

way, almost as reprehensible as the fire of passion which ravages Angelo's integrity. Also something less than virtuous is the feeling that first leads Isabel to seek revenge for the death of Claudio - " I will put out his eyes" she is pacified, we remember, only when the Duke promises her revenges to her heart. Thus, when, in spite of the Duke's protestations, Isabel kneels to ask mercy for Angelo, she has indeed come a long way. When Angelo said, "Let mine own judgment pattern out my death", when he assumed the stance of impersonal and abstract justice, he was supremely confident of his own powers, totally unaware of the human weaknesses which made such an attitude ridiculous, ape-like. He learned, as we have noted, the hard way. So, too, did Isabella, confident in her own limited experience, fail to realize how much was necessary to live up to her magnificent expression of the case for mercy. The fiery Isabel who savagely turns on Claudio and who vengefully longs to pluck out the eyes of Angelo is not the Isabel who kneels to ask forgiveness for the man who, she thinks, murdered her brother and who, she knows, was the pursuer of her honor. Mariana's entreaties at this climactic moment of the play - "Sweet Isabel, take my part; / Lend me your knees... Isabel, sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me . . . Ο Isabel, will you not lend a knee?" (V, i, 435-56, 441-442, 447) - echo strangely. They seem designed to remind us of an earlier call to Isabel. One hears again the voice of Claudio: "Sweet sister, let me live . . . hear me, Isabel . . . Ο hear me, Isabella!" But then Isabella could listen only to her outraged sense of honor. 'Might but my bending down / Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed..." Though the graph of her fall and rise is not so striking as Angelo's, the patterns are roughly parallel. These two patterns, it is important to note, are arranged by the Duke. We must now turn our attention to his character and function in the play. Two appraisals of the Duke's character are given in the play; one by Lucio; the other by Escalus. There seems little doubt as to which we are to believe in. Lucio's lack of respect for the truth is dramatized for us. Escalus, on the other hand, is presented as a man of reason, one whose judgment is to be respected. And Escalus sees the Duke as a man who is more concerned for

182

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

the happiness of others than for his own well being. He sees the Duke as an ideally temperate man who, above all else, sought to know himself. This desire, as Miss Pope has pointed out, is a characteristic of the ideal prince.22 But the Duke, though admirable, is not perfect. Like the Helena of All's Well, he himself explains the blemish on his character. This fault, or flaw in his character, is almost a virtue. Given the context in which it is presented, one is, in a way, more disposed to admire it than to condemn it. The Duke is too lenient. Perhaps as a result of his study of himself, perhaps because he has, in the course of this study, become increasingly aware of his own frailties as a human being, he has been unable to rule with the decisiveness which characterizes the reign of an ideal prince. But if he has failed in this way, he has not at least made the far graver error which Angelo falls into. He has not forgotten his humanity. He has not forgotten the implications of the great sacrifice made by Christ. The vice of mercy which is a part of the Duke's character, while making him an imperfect human being, at the same time, in a sense, raises him above the level of the ordinary human being. It seems logical to accept the Duke's explanation of his decision to hand over his authority to Angelo. That he is not abandoning his responsibility is evident; otherwise he wouldn't be around to circumvent the projected sins of Angelo. Nevertheless, if we remain solely on the realistic plane of the play, not all of the Duke's actions can be explained away. If he has doubts about the character of Angelo — "Now we shall see what our seemers be . . ." - , why does he place him above Escalus? Why does he not intercede directly when he receives unmistakable proof of the infirmities of Angelo? Why does he choose to play a role which makes Lucio's epithet, "the old fantastical Duke of dark corners" (IV, iii, 164-165), so apt? Even his reason for keeping the fact that Claudio is alive from Isabella may appear, to the cold cyclopean eye of the realist, somewhat cruel. But these questions - and more could be raised - are, to anyone who has studied Shakespearian drama in the light of its origins, somewhat 22

Pope, op. cit., p. 73.

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

183

frivolous. Shakespeare, as W. W. Lawrence has pointed out,23 often employed narrative conventions in his plays at the expense of realism. Moreover, such conventions, as we have noted,24 may be invested with symbolic import. Compared to Isabella and Angelo, or, for that matter, to almost any other important character in the play, the Duke is thinly drawn. If we look no further than the realistic level of the play, we may well conclude with Lawrence that this is a stage Duke, a mannequin who assumes the function of a dem ex machinal But Lawrence is on to something more important when he observes that the Duke assumes the function of both church and state when he takes command of the action: As Duke, he is supreme ruler of Vienna, who returns at the end to straighten out the tangles of the action, and dispense justice to all. In his disguise as Friar, he represents the wisdom and adroitness of the Church, in directing courses of action and advising stratagems so that good may come out of evil.20

For it certainly appears that the Duke is as much interested in the souls of his subjects as he is in the political stability of his state. We have already examined in some detail the way in which he brought Angelo and Isabella to spiritual maturity. Their patterns of behavior are paralleled in abbreviated form by those of Claudio and Juliet, both of whom receive spiritual instruction from the Duke. In this connection, the characters of Lucio and Barnadine are also important. Though these unscrupulous rogues are not brought to repentance for their misdeeds, they share in the general pardon at the end of the play. And the Duke does the best he can for both of them. Lucio is forced to marry the woman he has wronged; and Barnadine is released in the custody of a friar who is to give him spiritual counsel. To a number of critics the fact that the Duke takes over the action of the drama in this fashion has symbolic significance. And G. Wilson Knight's suggestion that Measure for Measure be read as a parable in the light of Jesus' parables has culminated 23 24 25

2

See Chapter I, footnote 23. See Chapter IV, p. 126. Lawrence, op. cit., pp. 110, 112.

« Ibid., pp. 103-104.

184

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

in R. W. Battenhouse's interpretation of this drama as a parable of the Atonement. On one level of the play, according to this reading, the Duke represents God, and the action of the substitution which he inaugurates and directs symbolizes the great redemptive action which is at the heart of Christianity. But this view of the play, as we have noted, has not met with approval in all quarters. And anyone who wishes to accept it must confront the objections of such critics as Clifford Leech, Mary Lascelles, and Elizabeth Pope. A close reading of the play on the literal level, such as the one we have already undertaken, surely casts strong doubt on Leech's assertion that the Christian elements are unconscious. The import of the action as well as the number of Christian allusions in the play suggests that the Christian element is neither inconstant nor unconscious, but pervasive and functional. Mary Lascelles' stringent criticism of the Christian interpreters of Measure for Measure seems somewhat unfair. For she has set up a straw critic, an effigy of her own shaping, which obligingly shrivels up under the steady magnified heat of her logic. I do not believe that the figurative interpreters read Measure for Measure in quite the way that Miss Lascelles implies that they read it. Measure for Measure is not an allegorical drama which simply retells on another plane, by means of a point-by-point equivalence of characters and events, biblical story or legend. This play, like All's Well, is meant to be read realistically and analogically, not allegorically. By analogical interpretation an imperfect human character whose act of sacrifice is an unselfish act of human love can reflect the perfect human being whose act of sacrifice was an act of divine love. In this sense, as we have seen, Helena's act in interposing her body to save Bertram from sin takes its significance from its correspondence to the act of Christ which afforded salvation to mankind. Similarly, a Duke who sets about to reform his kingdom by means of subterfuges or deceptions which culminate in mature hearts, rather than severed heads, may reflect, in human terms, the God of the New Testament who, out of His great mercy and goodness, arranged for the salvation of humanity.

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

185

Such an analogy might hold good then even if the Duke is partially to blame for the conditions which he sets about to correct. Moreover, it is interesting to note that it is possible for the skeptic to raise the same kind of objections to the God depicted in Christian story that Miss Lascelles levels against the Christian interpretation of the Duke in Measure for Measure. Nevill Coghill has, I think, effectively anticipated Miss Lascelles' line of thought: It is of course intellectually possible to twist the story of the Incarnation so as to make it seem as if God the Father and God the Holy Ghost had conspired to slay God the Son. That is what Langland calls "drivelling on the dais" and "gnawing God with the gorge." In like manner we are drivelling on the dais if we accept what is irrelevant or distort what is apparent in the behaviour of the Duke - if we complain that he pretends to be what he is not, that he lies to Claudio, that he pimps for Mariana, and so on.27

The Christian interpreters of Measure for Measure are historical as well as aesthetic critics. They read the play in the light of the philosophy of the time in which it was written. During this period the medieval belief in the transcendence of human actions was still operative. Man was not yet struggling on a darkling plain; the battle lines were clearly drawn. The conflict between Christ and Satan, the Son of Man and the Adversary, continued in every human heart. And just as the Old Testament stories of sin and sacrifice and redemption forecast the redemptive act that was to form the heart of the New Testament, so all significant human actions occurring after that event were shadowed by it. The critics who refer to biblical verses, to Church homilies, or to the writings of the Fathers in their interpretations do not, as Bryant notes, suggest that Shakespeare was a bibliolater: "The point is that Shakespeare, unlike ourselves, got at some time during his life the substance of such things as part of his daily intellectual bread." 28 They seek to recreate the intellectual atmosphere in which Shakespeare's artistic vision was shaped. This renaissance vision, in some respects, was a continuation of that part of the " Coghill, op. cit., p. 21. w Bryant, op. cit., p. 87.

186

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

medieval vision reflected in the figural interpretation of history. Such an interpretation, as Erich Auerbach has observed, "implies that every occurrence, in all its everyday reality, is simultaneously a part in a world-historical context through which each part is related to every other, and thus is likewise to be regarded as being of all times or above all time". 2 " So it is that, in Shakespeare's plays, the representation of human characters and events which have a reality all their own may at the same time reflect a level of meaning which, since it is not time-locked, is above reality. Thus, in Measure for Measure, Nevill Coghill can see both a real and a typological Duke: We know that he had long since ordained laws the breach of which he has never himself punished, because his personal intervention would seem "too dreadful" (I, iii, 34); he has withdrawn himself into invisibility from the world of which he is the Lord, but remains as it were omnipresent and omniscient, in the guise of a priest, seeking to draw good out of evil; he reappears like "power divine" (V, i, 372) in righteousness, majesty and judgment in the last scene. It is not very difficult to see what is here suggested on the anagogical plane, without taking away a particle of the Duke's humanity on the literal plane. One has to think both thoughts at once, to be "multiconscious" as S. L. Bethell has so well explained.30 Miss Pope's view that the King-God metaphor has no significant structural or thematic significance in Measure for Measure is more difficult to contravert than the positions of Professors Leech and Lascelles. Roy W. Battenhouse's interpretation of the play, which is not convincing to Miss Pope, suggests, in effect, that this commonplace metaphor is given life in a rather startling way. For Battenhouse believes that, while Measure for Measure can be read on the realistic level alone, the major part of its meaning is missed unless it is also read in the light of the conceptual framework of the Atonement story. He begins by noting that the factual story of the Atonement corresponds to the factual situation in Measure for Measure in the following re29

Erich Auerbach, Mimesis:

The Representation

of Reality

in

Western

Literature, trans, by Willard R. Trask (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1953), p. 156. m Coghill, op. cit., p. 21.

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

187

spects: In Measure for Measure a sovereign mingles with his people as a servant and plants the processes which lead to a judgment and salvation; in Christian story a benevolent ruler, who wishes a non-tyrannical restoration of order, undertakes a remedy for the disorder that has been caused by the abuse of free will.31 In this fashion Battenhouse develops at great length the basis for an analogical reading of Measure for Measure. He has brilliantly traced and elucidated those Christian echoes which haunt the attentive reader of the play, echoes which suggest the great events that loom above all time and, for the Christian, shadow every earthly action - echoes which, in short, link Measure for Measure with the conceptual framework of the Atonement story. Battenhouse's main points may be briefly summarized as follows: Angelo's position suggests that of the devil, who, according to Christian tradition, was deceived by the ransom of Christ.32 The dual position of Vincentio (whose name means "the conquering one") appears to correspond to that of God in the New Testament. For according to the theological conception of the Atonement God is in a double position: He is in conflict with evil, yet he is omnipotent. "He makes the Atonement by a victory over the powers that hold men in bondage; yet at the same time these very powers are in a measure executants of his own judgment on sin." 33 Also obliquely reflected in Measure for Measure is the action of the Atonement. After successfully avoiding the temptation of the fallen Angelo, Isabella, under the guidance of the Friar-Duke, plays a part in a kind of Passion-play that results in the binding of the Adversary (Angelo, whose name has an obvious significance) and the freeing of sinful man (Claudio, whose name means "lame one", an old way of designating sinful man).34 The substitution of Marian for Isabella, asserts Battenhouse, makes for an atonement in several senses: it fulfils the "promise of satisfaction" (the phrase is Shakespeare's 31 3S 33 34

Battenhouse, op. cit., pp. 1032-1034. Ibid., p. 1035. Ibid., p. 1049. Ibid., pp. 1046, 1035.

188

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

at the end of Act III. Sc. i.) exacted by the Adversary; it accomplishes her own physical at-one-ment with her estranged husband; and it makes possible the eventual reconciliation between the Prince and his (spiritually) estranged people.35 Finally, another important aspect of the Atonement theme may be seen in the Duke's offer of marrage to Isabella, for the Atonement story contains the elements of a divine romance. In the Pauline epistles, for example, the union between Christ and the Church is described figuratively in this fashion: Christ is described as the Husband who is to marry a pure virgin, the Church.36 Battenhouse's reading, generally speaking, is supported by the Christian symbols that are woven into the texture of the play. The reference to the shepherd and the "unfolding star", the fishing imagery, the allusion to ransom - all were associated in medieval Christianity, as Professor Battenhouse makes clear, with the story of the Atonement.37 The interpretive trail which Battenhouse blazes is clear to see. Though one may not agree with every detail of his complex reading of Measure for Measure, the number of allusions which he uncovers and ties together - the way in which the pieces of the play seem to form a pattern - should give even the most skeptical critic pause. Whether or not the configuration of symbolism that he finds in Measure for Measure is an interpretive mirage will be determined by the critics of the future. But one thing seems certain. So thorough is his exposition and so well equipped is he for this kind of criticism as a result of his theological training that there seems little, if anything, to be added to it. Perhaps, however, one may, by pursuing another line of investigation, add some weight to his thesis that Measure for Measure is meant to be read on two levels. Battenhouse focused his essay on the doctrinal import of this drama and supported his reading by an explanation of the way in which symbol, imagery, 35 3

Ibid., p. 1038. « Ibid., p. 1049.

3 ' Ibid., pp. 1040-1042, 1044-1045. Note the fishing imagery and the references to ransom in "The Great Catechism", supra, Chapter Π,ρρ. 56-58.

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

189

and myth traditional in Christian story functioned in the structure of the play. It seems to me that the structure of the play can also be illuminated through an examination of its relationship to the dramatic tradition which formed the structural backbone of renaissance drama - a tradition which, as we have noted, provides a dramatic rendering of those events which supply the interpretive basis of Christian doctrine.38 For a close investigation of the structure of Measure for Measure suggests that Shakespeare has telescoped the patterns of the morality play and the mystery cycle in this drama. Let us explore the morality element in the play first.3" It seems apparent that the debate between Angelo and Isabella reflects the debate between Justice and Mercy in the morality play; but since this allegorical debate has in Shakespeare been humanized, it is important to note the differences. Angelo and Isabella represent symbolically, not allegorically, the human equivalents of justice and mercy. The heart of the play, as we have seen, is concerned with their testing: We learn the extent to which they are able to live up to their words. Angelo fails miserably; but, by the grace of the Duke and the love of Mariana, he is saved from the judgment which he has, in his ape-like, human arrogance, called down upon himself. Isabel, on the other hand, though an imperfect human being, manages to live up to her words, after having been schooled in humility by the Friar-Duke. Trusting in him, she humiliates herself publicly, surely no easy task for such a proud and narrow spirit. And she reaches great heights of char38

See Chapter II, p. 66. " The morality element in Measure for Measure has been observed by several interpreters. The most important analysis of this element is that by M. C. Bradbrook, who sees evidence of the late medieval morality in the play: "It might be named The Contention between Justice and Mercy, or False Authority unmasked by Truth and Humility; Angelo stands for Authority and for Law, usurping the place of the Duke, who is not only the representative of Heavenly Justice but of Humility, whilst Isabel represents both Truth and Mercy" (op cit., pp. 385-386). She is, it is important to note, in agreement with F. R. Leavis' observation that, though Measure for Measure "bears a relation to the M o r a l i t y . . . , the Shakespearean use of convention permits far subtler attitudes and valuations than the Morality does" (The Greatness of Measure for Measure", Scrutiny X Jan., 1942, p. 241).

190

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

acter in her plea for Angelo's life, thus making herself worthy of the Duke's offer of marriage. The most important modification which Shakespeare has made in his use of the morality form may be found in the character and action pattern of Angelo, who is, in effect, both the Justice which demands the life of a guilty human being and a representative himself of sinful humanity. Angelo's action pattern in Measure for Measure corresponds closely to the pattern of Everyman in the morality play. He begins as a human being relatively free from sin - his blood is snow broth! Then, tempted by the beauty of Isabella, he succumbs to sin. Though stricken with remorse, he is unable to bring himself back to grace. When he is confronted by the Duke, however, he confesses and repents of his evil. As penance he marries Mariana, thereby rectifying the wrong he has done her. And because of the substitution of Mariana for Isabella and the substitution of Ragozine's head for Claudio's, Angelo becomes eligible for the pardon which he receives. (The substitutions and the judgment - the assignment of penance and the granting of pardon - , it is important to note, are directed by the Duke.) If this pattern of temptation, sin, remorse, repentance, penance, and pardon does not reflect the pattern of the morality play,40 if Angelo does not suggest the character of Everyman, if the Duke does not suggest the character of God - one must at least admit the similarities are striking. The fact that the substitution (which, together with his repentance, provides the logical basis for the pardon that Angelo receives) is incorporated in this morality pattern points to another modification which Shakespeare has made in the morality structure. In this connection we have noted the way in which Shakespeare altered the morality pattern in All's Well.*1 In the morality play, we observed, the Atonement is something which is established before the drama begins; it is part of "the given" 40

It is worth observing that the action patterns of at least two of the minor characters in the play echo the larger pattern we have found by tracing the course of Angelo through the play. Juliet and Claudio sin, are brought to repentance by the Duke, and then receive a full pardon. 41 See Chapter IV, pp. 155-157.

" M E A S U R E FOR M E A S U R E "

191

in the structure of the play. (And we have also noted that the morality play, in order to be fully understood, must be read in the light of the more comprehensive structure of the mystery cycle.42) But in All's Well and Measure for Measure Shakespeare, we may say, makes explicit, in a sense, what is implicit in the morality play. In these plays the great action of Christ is duplicated, shadowed, or re-enacted on another plane by the actions of realistically-presented human characters. What Shakespeare does then, in effect, is to draw together elements from the mystery cycle and the morality play. The action pattern which we associate with Angelo echoes the action pattern of the morality protagonist. And the substitution, less clearly, echoes the pivotal event in the mystery cycle.43 For, we must hasten to add, if an incident in Measure for Measure suggests an element in the mystery cycle, it does so through analogy. If the substitution of Mariana for Isabella, an action which saves Angelo from sin and makes him eligible for redemption, may be regarded as a shadow of that great selfless and loving action which split the iron seams of time and flowered into eternity, that action which transcends the logic of time and hovers over all earthly actions, then one of the central events in Measure for Measure parallels the central event in the mystery cycle. No point-by-point equivalence may be found; nor, indeed, is such a perfect correspondence necessary or desirable. A precedent for this kind of literary craft may be seen in the dramatization of those Old Testament stories in the mystery cycle which foreshadowed the Atonement.44 The precedent does not, of course, present an exact correspondence to what Shakespeare does; but, 42

See Chapter II, p. 85. This point in itself is of such minor significance that it is not worth mentioning. The fact, for example, that there may be an element of the mystery cycle reflected in Helena's substitution for Diana in All's Well is not important because it tells us nothing significant about the structure of that play. And, for that matter, we can't even be sure that the analogy is a reflection of the central event in the mystery cycle; it may be derived from some other source. But, as I hope to show, the analogy to the Atonement in Measure for Measure falls into a framework which suggests that of the mystery cycle. 44 See Chapter II, pp. 74-77. 43

192

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

given the thought pattern of the time,45 it does not seem too much to assume that a writer with Shakespeare's creative imagination could have altered a literary device to suit the purposes of his own dramatic vision. Following a number of the Christian interpreters, then, we suggest that the dark, fantastical actions of the Duke have a frame of reference that reflects the wisdom of God. And following Battenhouse in particular, we suggest that the substitution of Mariana is analogous to the sacrifice of Christ and that the deception of Angelo is analogous to the deception of the devil. It seems important to point out, however, that the Atonement analogy is split into two parts because of the exigencies of the action on the realistic level of the play. Angelo is in jeopardy of committing two sins: (1) ravaging the pure Isabella and (2) executing a man who is no more a forfeit to the law than he is. He is saved from these sins by two acts of substitution, both of which are arranged by the Duke. These substitutions, which save Angelo from sins that would compel an inexorable earthly judgment, are obliquely analogous to the Atonement of Christ. Realizing perhaps the indirectness of the second analogy, Shakespeare seems deliberately to violate the realistic texture of the play to call intention to another level of meaning. For the Duke's assertion to the Provost, ". . . . in the boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard .. .", has little relevance on the realistic level of the play. 45 Battenhouse, after observing that the renaissance man was educated in the grammatical tradition stemming from Sts. Augustine and Bonaventura, makes this point: "According to Bonaventura, a student should apply to the book of Nature the same fourfold method of interpretation which he applies to Scripture, for the literal and immediate sense of the book of Creation is less important than the theological, moral and mystical lessons that it contains. Did not Solomon view creation in this way? By studying creation as a sort of representation of divine wisdom, Solomon discovered, so Bonaventura thought, the only perspective in which the created universe ceases to be an unintelligible confusion. A student's best logic then, following Solomon, is to reason by analogies, conformities, correspondences, and mystical comparisons. This aspect of Bonaventura's teaching, Gilson has remarked, revived during the Renaissance 'with such luxuriance that it is readily admitted to be one of the most distinctive and characteristic features of the period'" (op. cit., p. 1043).

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

193

But what we have said here seems to reveal a rather striking contradiction concerning the function of Angelo. We have already connected Angelo with Everyman; now it seems that we must also see in his character a reflection of the devil. The number of allusions to the Satanic element in Angelo seems to provide some warrant for such an interpretation. When, for example, the fallen Angelo first comes to a recognition of the evil within him, he cries: Let's write good angel on the devil's horn. And Isabella, after alluding to Angelo's "devilish mercy" in explaining his offer to Claudio, observes: O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, T h e damned'st body to invest and cover In prenzie guards!

Later, when the Duke refers her to Angelo for justice, she cries that he bids her "seek redemption of the devil". With these allusions in mind let us turn our attention to the opening action of the play, the deputation scene, which may also, less directly, point to a connection between the fallen Angelo of Measure for Measure and the fallen angel of Christian tradition. Lord Angelo, who, in reputation, surpasses all others in Vienna for saintliness, is chosen to act as deputy for the Duke, who, without giving any reason for his hasty action, says that he must leave Vienna for a time. What scene might this suggest to an Elizabethan audience familiar with the medieval drama? One may well speculate as to whether this opening episode, for which no direct source has been found,48 may be traced to the first scene 4

· As Geoffrey Bullough has pointed out (Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare: The Comedies, 1597-1603, Π, London, Routledge & Paul, 1957, p. 406), the exact relationship of Measure for Measure to earlier versions of the Isabella-story is not easy to determine. Whetstone's Promos and Cassandra and Cinthio's story (Decade 8, Tale 5) in the Hecatommithi (1565) seem to be the most important sources. Possibly Shakespeare also made use of Cinthio's dramatic version of the story, Epitia (1583). (See Madeleine Doran's compelling case for this possibility, Endeavors of Art: A Study of Form in Elizabethan Drama, Madison, The University of Wisconsin Press, 1954, pp. 386-389.) If this can be allowed, it seems probable that Shakespeare borrowed Angelo's name from Angela, sister of Juriste in Epitia. Cinthio's Angela, of course, is quite different in character from Shakespeare's Angelo. But one line in Cinthio's drama may have given

194

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

of the mystery cycle, in which God, without giving any reason for his departure, appoints Lucifer, the brightest of the angels, to govern in his absence. Almost immediately the position inflates Lucifer's pride to the point that he considers himself better fitted to rule than God, who then appears, sentences the proud deputy, and dismisses him to hell. Thus begins the drama of the temptation, fall, and ultimate salvation of man. Obviously the analogy is not exact. For the fall of Angelo, the deputy who becomes infected with pride, reflects obliquely, in human terms, the fall of Satan. The significance of his name, the number of allusions to the Satanic element in his character, the overall context of the drama — these things appear to lend some support to such an interpretation. The rather paradoxical telescoping of the connotations associated with Everyman and Lucifer in the character of Angelo is a brilliant creative stroke. For there is a Christian logic in such an alchemy. Just as every Christian who emulates Christ can be considered a type of Christ, so every man who emulates Satan becomes a type of Satan. In the full context of the play Angelo is not simply a representative of the devil; he seems to suggest symbolically the devil in Everyman. (One thinks of the Duke's brooding observation: "O, what may man within him hide / Though angel on the outward side!") For though Angelo, like the devil, is deceived; he is also, like Everyman, saved by vritue of this deception. Elements from the morality play and the mystery cycle also seem to coincide at the conclusion of the play, the judgment scene. After the "debate" between the human representatives of justice and mercy - between Isabella and the Duke, who has taken over the role of the False Justice, Angelo - the fallen deputy is pardoned. This scene, then, reflects the ending of the morality play where the focus is on the fate of Everyman; the fact that others Shakespeare the hint for the symbolic role which Angelo performs in Measure for Measure. Epitia, upon being betrayed by Juriste, turns savagely on his sister and cries: Angela? no, Alecto come from Hell Your brother's twin, more cruel than the a s p . . . ΙΠ.4 (Bullough, p. 436)

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

195

are punished and pardoned in the final scene may suggest the more comprehensive conclusion of the mystery cycle. The Duke's "last judgment" in Measure for Measure, that is to say, echoes Christ's last judgment in the mystery cycle. If the deputation scene suggests the appointment of Lucifer in the first playlet of the mystery cycle; if Mariana's substitution for Isabella, which is made at the instigation of the Duke, reflects Christ's atonement for the sins of humanity because of God's love in doing good; if the final judgment of the Duke mirrors the depiction of the last judgment in the mystery cycle - if these events are analogous, then the scope of Measure for Measure is patterned on the scope of the mystery cycle. And if the pattern of Angelo's action echoes the pattern of the morality protagonist, then this pattern is contained within the structure of a drama which has the scope of the mystery cycle. The vast and awesome scope of the mystery cycle and the intimacy and intensity of the narrower range of the morality play somehow are transposed into a single drama which has, at the same time, a life of its own. It is always difficult and awkward to attempt to track the imagination of a poet, to trace the creative process. The heresy of paraphrase becomes glaringly apparent; for the logic of analysis must, of necessity, soil the logic of the imagination. Prose prostitutes poetry. Nevertheless, in this instance, the attempt seems worthwhile. Let us try to make a prosaic paraphrase of an imaginative creative process which may never have reached this literal a level in the mind of the artist who shaped Measure for Measure. Let us try to explain the way in which phantom actions, echoes derived from earlier dramatic forms, combined to help shape the structure of Measure for Measure. The play begins with a scene which parallels the first scene of the mystery cycle. The brightest of the Duke's deputies assumes the role of substitute. This deputy, Angelo, becomes infected with pride. Then he falls prey to the sin of lust. As Angelo gives way to the devil that is within him, the corrupted Lucifer, in effect, becomes Everyman and begins to follow the track of the morality protagonist. Or, to put it another way, the Satan which lurks in Everyman assumes control of Angelo's life. An action which is derived

196

"MEASURE FOR MEASURE"

from the mystery cycle slides into a pattern that comes from the morality play. Then Mariana, out of a love for Angelo that is strong enough to ignore his unfaithfulness and unworthiness, interposes her body for Isabella's, thereby saving Angelo from the commission of a far graver sin than the one he commits. Similarly, the Duke "lays . . . / himself in hazard" in order to save Claudio, who is no more a forfeit to the law than Angelo; and he sees to it that a head is substituted for Claudio's. The Duke's bait is swallowed by Angelo. At one stroke the devil is deceived and Everyman is saved. For Angelo plays both roles. Thus, at the conclusion of the play Angelo-Everyman is saved because Angelo-Lucifer had been deceived. Because of his remorse and repentance and because of the love of Mariana and the machinations of a Duke who, out of his love of doing good, sought a merciful remedy for the sins of his subjects - because of these things Angelo-Everyman is pardoned in the course of a more general pardon that suggests the comprehensive ending of the mystery cycle. Finally, we should note briefly the way in which Shakespeare has focused attention on key thematic points in the play through parallel actions or iterative phrasing in the minor actions of the play. We have, for example, already called attention to the significance of the allusion to restraint in the dialogue between Isabella and Francisca. Apparently Shakespeare intends for us to see a similarity in the characters of Angelo and Isabella. Another kind of verbal connection between actions is made in scenes one and two of Act III. The Duke, having sounded Isabella's feelings on Angelo's proposal, says: ". . . to the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself" (III, i, 204-205). The ultimate meaning of remedy, in the context of this play, is determined, as Battenhouse notes, by an earlier speech of Isabella in which she pointed out to Angelo that God had sought a way to circumvent his own just claims on man: " 'And he . . . found out the remedy' is a clear allusion to the work of redemption wrought by Christ - God's remedy at a time when all souls were forfeit under the Law." 47 The importance of this word is 47

Battenhouse, op. cit., p. 1037.

"MEASURE FOR M E A S U R E "

197

stressed by its repetition in the comic scene which follows the Duke's explanation of his remedy. Elbow, who has arrested Pompey, says to that worthy: Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.

It is interesting to note further that the Duke, who comes upon the scene, urges Pompey to change his ways: "Go mend, go mend" (III, ii, 28), and sends him off to prison where "Correction and instruction must both work / Ere this rude beast will profit" (III, ii, 33-34). And in prison the redemption theme is carried on in comic fashion. The Provost offers Pompey a chance to become assistant to the executioner Abhorson: "it shall redeem you from your g y v e s . . . " (IV, ii, 10-11). After indulging in witty word play with Abhorson, Pompey accepts: "Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness" (IV, ii, 52-54). Pompey's pattern of repentance is comic, of course; but it does serve, in parodic fashion, to underscore the predominant action pattern of the play, the most complete example of which, as we have seen, may be found in the actions of Angelo. Because of the prominence of the morality structure in All's Well and Measure for Measure, these plays, as we have noted, represent the medieval comic pattern in dramatic form. Their protagonists move from what is, in effect, metaphysical adversity to metaphysical prosperity; for the secular pardons - that which Helena grants Bertram and that which the Duke affords Angelo - reflect a higher level of meaning. Though Hamlet is a tragedy and though the action of that play is focused on the motif of retribution rather than that of mercy, its structure, as we have observed, also is, to a certain extent, based on this pattern. Let us now turn our attention to the last of the so-called problem plays, Troilus and Cressida, a tragedy which, we shall find, is not based on the medieval comic pattern because its frame of reference is entirely secular.

VI. TROILUS AND

CRESSIDA

A hasty survey of the numerous interpretations of Troilus and Cressida may lead one to the despairing conclusion that, where criticism of this Shakespearian play is concerned, chaos is come again. Further study reveals, however, that the situation is not quite this bad. But so rich is the construction of Troilus and Cressida that the opportunities for structural analysis seem almost infinite. Characters, events, and themes balance one another directly and obliquely; and each reading of the play (or of an interpretation) unfolds new intricacies in its structure. Consequently, the consensus of the modern critics - interpreters who have written on the play within the past thirty years - seems to be that Troilus is brilliantly constructed.1 The real problems of the play, so far as the modern critics are concerned, may be summed up in these two questions: (1) To what genre does Troilus and Cressida belong? and (2) What does the play mean? The problem of genre is explained by Kenneth Muir in the following paragraph: Troilus and Cressida has always been something of a puzzle. The title-page of the Quarto described it as a History, the Epistle to the Reader spoke of it as a Comedy, and the Folio as an afterthought put it between the Histories and the Tragedies. Oscar J. Campbell calls it a comical satire. John Palmer spoke of it as a tragedy in 1912, and as a Comedy in 1914. To Hazlitt it was loose and desultory; Coleridge 1

I am speaking here about the design of Troilus, the relation of the various parts of the play to one another, and not about the question of what genre the drama belongs to.

" t r o i l u s and cressida"

199

found it hard to characterize; Swinburne said it was a hybrid which "at once defies and derides all definitive comment." 2 John Palmer's confusion on this point anticipated the dichotomy in modern criticism. While no one now, so far as I am aware, would say that Troilus fits either category perfectly, most investigators of this problem find the play to be tilted toward either comedy or tragedy. And it appears that the question of whether Troilus is meant to be taken as a tragedy or comedy is answered according to the view which the individual critic takes of the protagonist of the play. A determined minority of the commentators supports the position of O. J. Campbell, who believes that "the play is Shakespeare's highly original version of a recently devised form - the comicall satyre of Jonson and Marston". 3 Mr. Campbell feels that Troilus lacks tragic stature: "Throughout the play Troilus' infatuation is presented in a way to provoke mingled feelings of revulsion and amusement." 4 The case for tragedy, on the other hand, has been well put by Brian Morris, who notes that, though there are some features alien to the tragic effect in Troilus and Cressida, the sense of waste, which is present in all tragedies, is emphasized to a degree not found elsewhere in Shakespeare. 5 Mr. Morris believes that Troilus does have tragic stature: "He has all the potentialities of greatness, 2 Kenneth Muir, "Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), p. 28. 8 Oscar James Campbell, Shakespeare's Satire (London, Oxford University Press, 1943), p. 120. Campbell developed this thesis earlier in Comicall Satyre and Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida (1938). His discussion in that work of the pattern developed by Jonson and Marston between 1599 and 1602 has been summarized by Harold N. Hillebrand as follows: The pattern is made up of "(1) a collection of fools and knaves who (2) are subjected to the castigation of two commentators, one (the author's spokesman) philosophically sound, the other wrongheaded and buffoonish; who (3) are placed in such situations as will best expose their knavery or folly; and who (4) are by this means either 'purged' of their ill humors (which happens oftenest) or else are cast out of the society of decent men." (A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Troilus and Cressida, ed. Η. N. Hillebrand and T. W. Baldwin, Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Company, 1953, p. 383). 4 Ibid., p. 117. 5 Brian Morris, "The Tragic Structure of Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Quarterly, X (Autumn, 1959), 489.

200

"troilus and

cressida"

his speech has the ennobling note of high tragedy, but his nature is to love 'not wisely, but too well'." 6 Several views of the ultimate meaning of the play have been advanced. Una Elles-Fermor maintains that "The writer of this play is a man to whom values have become suspect".7 Within the play, she says, . . . towering thoughts and ideals topple down before 4 destiny as implacable as that foreseen by Ulysses for the doomed towers of Troy; and if we look immediately f r o m these ideals to the last phases of the action, the ambush and murder of Hector, we have no choice but to measure the chaos and the discord by the gracious assurance, the magnanimity, and the seeming stability that they destroy. Just as we feel the value of the Oedipus or the Oresteia to be in one way commensurate with the depth and the power of evil which Sophocles and Aeschylus meet and transmute, so in Troilus the nobility of that order which in the end proves perishable gives us the measure of the destructive forces which triumph over it. The existence of the principle of cause and order (in the cosmos and in the affairs of men) is therein questioned; it vanishes, revealing destruction as the principle underlying all life. 8

Professor Fermor's interpretation appears to be echoed by Albert Gerard. Troilus and Cressida, he says, tells us that the core of love is lust and that everything else is deception. All important ideals - love, reason, chivalry - are swept away.' The mood of the play, he concludes, is one "of utter despair, arising not from any romantic pose of sentimental melancholy, but from a deeplyconsidered philosophical conviction that life is a tale that signifies nothing".10 A somewhat related line of interpretation is pursued by W. Μ. T. Nowottny and A. S. Knowland. Each asserts, in effect, that the play says this: There is no inherent principle of order in β

Ibid., p. 491. Una EUis-Fermor, " 'Discord in the Spheres': The Universe of Troilus and Cressida", Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, ed. with an Introduction by Robert Ornstein (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1961), p. 23. 8 Ibid., p. 25. • Albert Gerard, "Meaning and Structure in Troilus and Cressida", English Studies, XL (June, 1959), 156. 10 Ibid., p. 157. 7

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

201

the universe, but Π/an's attempt to live up to the values that he creates is noble. Mr. Nowottny maintains that, in Troilus, Shakespeare asks what attitude toward life will stand up in view of the descrepancy between appearance and reality. And the answer is Troilus' - "not Troilus' idealization of Cressida, for that is confuted by Cressida, but his refusal, even in the face of the misshapen fact of her treachery, to deny the reality of the values by which he has lived." 11 Similarly, Mr. Knowland says that man's attempt to set up values which are eternal may be seen in the ideals of love, chivalry, and order in Troilus. But they fail to endure because of some principle of contradiction which resides in events and character.12 "The achievements themselves are transient, the impulse to erect them endures." 13 In contrast to these interpretations is the reading of Kenneth Muir. Shakespeare, notes Muir, doesn't say that life is meaningless; rather: He was asserting something much more limited, and much less pessimistic. He was saying that men are foolish enough to engage in war in support of unworthy causes; that they are deluded by passion to fix their affections on unworthy objects; that they sometimes act in defiance of their consciences; and that in the pursuit of selfinterest they jeopardize the welfare of the State.14

Essentially the same point, made less concretely, is presented by Robert K. Presson: One theme, and a traditional one (the triumph of the Passions over Reason which results in blind judgments which bring disillusionment or deterioration), binds together the various points of the play, and gives the drama its unified effect. Yet an impression of great variety is never lost.15 11

Winifred M.T.Nowottny, "'Opinion' and 'Value' in Troilus and Cressida", Essays in Criticism, IV (July, 1954), 291. A. S. Knowland, "Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Quarterly, X (Summer, 1959), 363-364. 13 Ibid., p. 365. 14 Muir, op. cit., p. 36. 16 Robert K. Presson, "The Structural Use of a Traditional Theme in Troilus and Cressida", Philological Quarterly, XXXI (April, 1952), 186. This view is, in effect, supported by the conclusions reached in T. W. Baldwin's brief discussion of "Faculty Psychology in Troilus and Cressida",

202

"troilus and cressida"

My own reading of this drama leads me to the following conclusions: (1) though O. J. Campbell is probably right in seeing the influence of comical satire in some elements of the play, Troilus is essentially a tragedy; and (2) the play suggests that disorder is a consequence of the frailty of men and not an inevitable result of a chaos at the center of creation. A close structural analysis of Troilus will, I believe, support this interpretation. Though critical attitudes toward Troilus and Cressida vary, everyone would agree with Ε. M. W. Tillyard that the subject is a double one: love and war. Both plots have as a motive a woman, each bad in her own way. One brings destruction to a nation; the other, to a young man's vision of an ideal love. The plots are linked further by the character of the young man whose ideals are shattered, for Troilus is both lover in one story and knight in the other.18 The play begins in the middle of things. Helen of Troy has been stolen by Paris, and the Greeks have invaded Troy to avenge the insult to her husband, Menelaus. But little progress has been made. In Act I, scene iii, the main theme of the play is presented, a theme which is applicable not only to the war plot but also to the love story. For Ulysses' explanation of the reason for the inability of the Greeks to carry through their enterprise stems from a pattern of thought, a philosophy of life, that casts A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Troilus and Cressida, op. cit., pp. 416-418. Also Presson's study of the sources of Troilus and Cressida supports his thesis in this article. He concludes that, though the medieval treatment of the legend played a large part in the formation of the play (see Tillyard, op. cit., pp. 37-49), it is important not to overlook "the 'new' or classical conception as understood and made available by C h a p m a n . . . " 0Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida and the Legends or Troy, Madison, University of Wisconsin Press, 1953, p. 8). For the impression that Troilus and Cressida leaves "is not unlike that of the incomplete Iliades as translated and interpolated by Chapman. The trials and harms dissension brings to a society, and the perturbations passion when unbridled by reason brings to the possessor and to his dependents are familiar humanistic ideas abundantly exemplified by the behaviour of the characters in play and poem. The chaos that follows from judgments blinded by emotions is presented in lively fashion by the ancient 'example'" (Ibid., pp. 7-8). 16 Ε. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's Problem Plays, 3rd ed. (London, Chatto and Windus, 1957), p. 52.

"troilus and cressida"

203

light on the entire thematic structure of the play. The moral chaos which afflicts the Greeks, the ignominious death of Hector, the disillusionment of Troilus, the impending fall of Troy - all are a result, in one way or another, of disorderly passion, lack of attention to the rule of personal, national, and natural order. Here is what Ulysses has to say: Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master, But for these instances. The specialty of rule hath been neglected: And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions. When that the general is not like the hive To whom the foragers shall all repair, What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded, The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre Observe degree, priority and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office and custom, in all line of order; And therefore is the glorious planet Sol In noble eminence enthroned and sphered Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad: but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander, What plagues and what portents! what mutiny! What raging of the sea! shaking of earth! Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shaked, Which is the ladder to all high designs, The enterprise is sick! How could communities, Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities, Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, The primogenitive and due of birth, Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, But by degree, stand in authentic place? Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets

204

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores And m a k e a sop of all this solid globe: Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead: Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then every thing includes itself in power, Must make perforce an universal prey, And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon, This chaos, when degree is suffocate, Follows t h e choking. And this neglection of degree it is That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd By him one step below, h e by t h e next, That next by him beneath; so every step, Exampled by the first pace that is sick Of his superior, grows to an envious fever Of pale and bloodless emulation . . (I, iii, 74-134) T h e situation then is a familiar one to any student of Shakespeare's history plays. A s one critic puts it: "A whole world is breaking up o n the windy plains of Troy. Everywhere disorder and confusion reign supreme." 18 Obviously, what disturbs Ulysses is not simply unrest in the ranks; the problem is far graver than that. For "The anarchy the Ulysses so much dreads is a moral as well as a military anarchy: it engenders the chaos in which treachery flourishes." 19 It is clear that Ulysses has not overstated his case. Achilles, "the sinew and forehand" of the Greek army, "having his ear full of his airy fame" (I, iii, 143), lies in his tent mocking the efforts of his superiors, crying "O, enough, Patroclus / Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all / in pleasure of m y spleen" 17 The ideas expressed in this speech are, of course, Elizabethan commonplaces. For a summary of the sources that have been suggested, see A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Troilus and Cressida, op. cit., pp. 389-397. 18 Henri Fluchere, Shakespeare, trans, by Guy Hamilton (London, Longmans & Green, 1953), p. 212. 19 Ibid.

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

205

(I, iii, 176-78), as his friend parodies the postures of the Greek leaders. Moreover, as we learn later, Achilles is remaining out of action because he is in love with one of Priam's daughters. At one point, after receiving a token from Polyxena, he cries: "Fall Greeks; fail fame, honor or go or stay / My major vow lies here, this I'll obey" (V, i, 48-49). Ajax, another outstanding warrior, who has "grown self-willed, and bears his head / In such a rein, in full as proud a place / As broad Achilles . . ." (I, iii, 188-90), likewise keeps to his tent where he rails against Greek policy. There isf then, a great breach in the ranks of the Greeks: a breach between the instruments of thought and the instruments of action. The "ram that batters down the wall" is placed before the "hand that made the engine, / Or those that with the fineness of their souls / By reason guide his execution" (I, iii, 206, 208-10). (The absurdity of this situation, the ludicrousness of the battering ram's sneering at the reason which guides it, is well illustrated by old Nestor: "Let this be granted", he says, "and Achilles' horse / Makes many Thetis' sons", I, iii, 211-12.) Thus it is that love and pride are placed before the good of the state. Individual appetite has upset degree, and the Grecian cause languishes. In Act II, scene ii, a somewhat parallel situation is revealed in the Trojan council scene. Here the Trojan leaders discuss the offer of the Greeks to call off the war in exchange for Helen; and Hector's response indicates that he is the spokesman for reason: . . . Let Helen go: Since the first sword was drawn about this question, Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes, Hath been as dear as Helen . . . (II, i, 17-20) The point is that it is stupid to sacrifice so much in an unworthy cause. But Hector's youngest brother, Troilus, opposes such a course: Fie, fie, my brother! Weigh you the worth and honour of a king So great as our dread father in a scale Of common ounces?

(II, ii, 25-28)

206

"troilus and cressida"

And when another brother, Helenus, rebukes Troilus for his failure to be rational, he counters sharply, picturing reason as the last refuge of the coward: You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest; You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons: You know an enemy intends you harm; You know a sword employ'd is perilous And reason flies the object of all harm: Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds A Grecian and his sword, if he do set The very wings of reason to his heels, And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove Or like a star disorb'd. Nay, if we talk of reason Let's shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect Make livers pale and lustihood deject. (II, ii, 37-50) When Hector interposes again that Helen is not worth the cost of holding, Troilus asserts that value resides not in an object itself but in the valuer. Hector still maintains the cause of reason: Value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god; And the will dotes that is attributive To what infectiously itself affects, Without some image of the affected merit. (II, ii, 53-60) There is only one way for such logic to be met effectively: by begging the question. And this is what Troilus proceeds to do in masterly fashion, befogging logic with a full-breathed appeal to the emotions. He reminds them that they all had applauded Paris' venture and cheered its success, an assertion which, of course, does not justify the situation. To persist in error, as Hector points out later, does not obviate the initial fault. And as for Paris' prize: " . . . why, she is a pearl, /Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships, / And turn'd crown'd kings to mer-

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

207

20

chants." Concluding his argument, the fiery young knight cries: ". . . O, theft most base, / That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!" (II, ii, 81-83, 92-93). At this point Cassandra, the only character in the play with access to divine wisdom, prophesies that Troy will burn unless Helen goes. And Hector inquires of Troilus whether he will listen to divination: " . . . or is your blood / So madly hot tbüt no discourse of reason, / Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, / Can qualify the same?" (II, ii, 115-118). But Troilus remains adamant, asserting that Cassandra's brain-sick raptures cannot nullify the worth of a quarrel which has their "several honors all engaged / To make it gracious" (II, ii, 124-25). He will listen neither to reason nor to intuition. And Paris backs him up, protesting that he would have "the soil of her fair rape / Wiped off, in honorable keeping her", not only for himself but for the reputation of the kingdom. Clearly, as the rasp of his diction reveals, he is as illogical as Troilus. It is Hector, once again the voice of reason, who caps the argument: Paris and Troilus, you have both said well, And on the cause and question now in hand Have glozed, but superficially; not much Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought Unfit to hear moral philosophy: 20

Earlier, it is interesting to note, he refers to Cressida in somewhat the same terms: Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl: Between our Ilium and where she resides, Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood, Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark. a, i, 103-107) Though the merchant imagery is not as extensive as the appetite and animal imagery in the play, it is significant. Troilus' glorification of the merchant suggests the confused nature of his thinking in somewhat the same way that his association of reason with appetite does in the rebuke he gives to Helenus: . . . Nay, if we talk of reason Let's shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cramm'd reason . . . (Π, ii, 46-49)

208

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

The reasons you allege do more conduce To die hot passion of distemper'd blood Than to make up a free determination 'Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision. Nature craves All dues be rendered to their owners: now, What nearer debit in all humanity Than wife is to the husband? If this law Of nature be corrupted through affection, And that great minds, of partial indulgence To their benumbed wills, resist the same There is a law in each well-ordered nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory. If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king, As it is known she is, these moral laws Of nature and of nations speak aloud To have her back return'd: thus to persist In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion Is this in way of truth; yet ne'ertheless My spritely brethren, I propend to you In resolution to keep Helen still, For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance Upon our joint and several dignities. (II, ii, 163-193) Obviously the two council scenes are designed to balance each other, and this speech of Hector's is as important, thematically speaking, as Ulysses' discourse on the significance of order and degree. The Greeks are having trouble because they can't get their best men into action, Achilles primarily because of love and Ajax because of pride. Now the Trojans can't keep out of action, although it would be to the public good to do so, because Paris' lust for Helen guides his reasoning and Troilus' pride (his desire for honor) motivates him. In each camp, then, love and pride in individuals thwart the public good. In the Greek camp these private emotions stop action and imperil ultimate success; in the Trojan band they impel the nation into action that will ultimately lead to catastrophe. Also, in each camp there is a spokesman for reason. The wisdom of Hector corresponds to that of

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

209

Ulysses. Each analyzes the situation of his country correctly from the standpoint of moral order: Each abhors the upsetting of degree in the individual and in the nation, and each explains the consequences of the reign of appetite. But while Ullysses follows his rational faculties (he attempts to rouse Achilles into action by striking at his pride), Hector ignores the dictates of his reason. For Troilus succeeds in bending Hector's will to his own. And we may conclude, as Professor Tillyard does, that Hector is strong in wit but weak in will. We may also say that the character of Troilus provides a contrast to that of Hector: The younger warrior is strong-willed, but his understanding is subservient to his emotions.21 For Troilus is driven by his emotional lust for honor; he is contemptuous of the intellect. Hector, on the other hand, recognizes that the intellect should rule over the emotions; but, though he is able to recognize what is right, he is unable to put his wisdom into action. Thus, in effect, he places honor above wisdom. With the above in mind let us now turn our attention to the main plot,22 the ill-fated love of Troilus and Cressida. Like the war plot this story begins in medias res. Troilus, who represents the Elizabethan conception of the chivalric lover,28 is overwhelmed by his unrequited passion for Cressida. In this connection his opening speech is significant: "Why", he exclaims, "should I war without the walls of Troy / That find such cruel battle here within?" (I, i, 2-3). Later he says with regard to Helen: "I cannot fight upon this argument; / It is too starved a subject for my sword" (95-96). But the line of his thought, as we have noted, is quite different in the council scene. Such instability, we may 11

Tillyard, op. cit., p. 65. For a different opinion regarding the importance of the Troilus-Cressida plot to the structure of the play, see T. W. Baldwin, A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Troilus and Cressida, op. cit., pp. 450-454. 23 As W. W. Lawrence (Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, second edition, New York, Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1960, 142) has made clear, "The most superficial reading of Troilus and Cressida shows that its manners are those of mediaeval chivalry and chivalric love, as the Elizabethans understood them." See Lawrence, pp. 142-154, for a discussion of the chivalric background of the love story and the Elizabethan adaptation ot the chivalric code. 22

210

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

assume, is, to a great extent, a consequence of his passion for Cressida. It is, however, important not to associate Troilus' love for Cressida with the attitude toward love that her uncle, Pandarus, upon whom Troilus depends to plead his suit, assumes.24 For, as Tillyard observes, the two do not inhabit the same world. The kind of love that possesses Troilus is quite outside Pandarus' experience or power of imagination.25 Pandarus may be fairly called a merchant in flesh. His profit is made, it seems, not in terms of money but of vicarious sensuality. When he pretends indifference to Troilus' impatient desires in Act I, scene i, one may assume that he is, in Miss Bradbrook's words, employing "the salesman's trick of pretending indifference to stimulate the customer".26 In contrast to such sophistication stands the naivete of Troilus, which becomes apparent when he says: Ο gods, how do you plague me! I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar; And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo, As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. (I, i, 97-100)

Troilus' interpretation of the situation suggests that, where matters of love are concerned, he is indeed as ". . . skilless as unpractised infancy" (I, i, 12), as " . . . true as truth's simplicity / And simpler than the infancy of truth" (III, ii, 176-177). That Pandar is not so "tetchy" to act as a go-between and that Cressida is not insensible to the attentions of Troilus are clearly revealed by Act I, scene ii. The dialogue of Pandarus and Cressida, as Tillyard observes, shows them to belong to the same world, for Cressida's wit and sophistication reveal her to be an efficient society woman.27 She exasperates Pandarus by refusing to acknowledge the truth of what he says about Troilus' beauty and 24

114. 25

O. J. Campbell sees no distinction. See Shakespeare's Satire, pp. 111-

Tillyard, op. cit., p. 53. M. C. Bradbrook, "What Shakespeare Did to Chaucer's Troilus", Shakespeare Quarterly, IX (Summer, 1958), 314. 27 Tillyard, op. cit., p. 54. 26

" t r o i l u s and cressida"

211

valor. But when he leaves her, she reveals her true feelings, as well as her worldliness: Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise: But more in Troilus thousand fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing; Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing. That she beloved knows nought that knows not this: Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is . . . (I, ii, 308-15)

The love affair of Troilus and Cressida is conducted under the code of courtly love, which, by the time of Elizabeth, was considered to be little more than refined sensuality. Before the play is over we are quite aware that Cressida is indeed a daughter of the game and Pandarus a broker-lackey, but Troilus' idealism, innocence, and naivete redeem him from a similar stigma even though he accepts all of the conventions of the code. Helen deserves to be classified, in this regard, with Pandarus and Cressida rather than with Troilus. Act III, scene i, clearly reveals her character. Pandarus has come to ask Paris to make excuses for Troilus at supper that evening, since an assignation has been arranged with Cressida. All three of the principal characters in this cloying scene, Helen, Paris, and Pandarus, stand out as frivolous, shallow sensualists. The lady who has been made almost a religious cause, for whom so many tithes of Trojan souls have been offered up, whom Troilus called " a theme of honor and renown', "a spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds" - this lady compliments Pandarus thus: 'By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead" (116-17), and asks for a song while, because of her, blood flows outside the city walls. "Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. Ο Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!" (Ill, i, 119-20) she simpers. And, moreover, doubtless for no noble purpose, she has kept Paris out of the conflict: "I would fain have armed today, but my Nell would not have it so" (III, i, 14950). The following scene sees the consummation of the love affair

212

" t r o i l u s and c r e s s i d a "

of Troilus and Cressida. Lasvicious Pandarus has succeeded in drawing them together. Troilus' inexperience seems to be revealed by Pandarus' comment on his shyness: "Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a baby. Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again? . . . Why do you not speak to her?" (Ill, ii, 42-45, 46-47). Later Cressida pretends to be embarrassed because she has been so bold as to confess her love for Troilus and to appear to hint for a kiss. She attempts to leave, asserting with what seems to be a studied bewilderment: I have a kind of self resides with you; But an unkind self, that itself will leave, To be another's fool.

(Ill, ii, 155-157)

How prophetic a speech this is she does not know. Nor does Troilus, whose rapturous exclamation of love proclaims him to be something more than a mere sensualist: Ο that I thought it could be in a woman As, if it can, I will presume in you To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; To keep her constancy in plight and youth, Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind That doth renew swifter than blood decays! Or that persuasion could but thus convince me, That my integrity and truth to you Might be affronted with the match and weight Of such a winnow'd purity in love; How were I then uplifted! a i l , ii, 165-167)

Then Cressida pledges her constancy, and she, her uncle, and Troilus step for an instant into the characters of allegorical figures when Pandarus says: Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness. Here I hold your hand, here my cousin's If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name; call them

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

213

all Pandars; let all constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all brokers-between Pandars! 2 8 (Ill, ii, 204-11)

While Troilus' love is being consummated, however, circumstances begin to conspire against him. Calchas, Cressida's father, who has "abandoned Troy" and "incurred a traitor's name", asks a boon of the Greeks: that a notable Trojan prisoner be exchanged for his daughter. His request is granted, and Diomedes comes to Troy to effect the transfer. While Aeneas hastens to deliver the news to Troilus and Cressida, Paris and Diomedes engage in a significant exchange. "Who, in your thoughts", asks Paris, "merits fair Helen best, / Myself or Menelaus?' (IV, i, 53-54). "Both alike . ..", answers Diomedes, whose uncompromising realism stands in contrast to the idealism of Troilus. Helen is worthless, he observes; Paris and Menelaus have degraded themselves in desiring her: He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins Are pleased to breed out your inheritors . . .

(IV, i, 61-64) Moreover, Diomedes echoes Hector's evaluation of Helen when he adds: She's bitter t o her country: hear me, Paris: For every false drop in her bawdy veins A Grecian's life hath sunk; f o r every scruple Of her contaminated carrion weight, A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, She hath not given so many good words breath As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death. (IV, i, 68-74)

The news is delivered, and Troilus and Cressida bemoan their fate. Each swears constancy to the other. But Troilus fears that 28 What S. L. Bethell (Shakespeare and the Popular Dramatic Tradition, Durham: Duke University Press, 1944, pp. 118-119) has to say about allegory in Shakespeare is pertinent here: "Specifically in relation to character, I use the term 'allegory' to signify the representation of a virtue or vice or of some other abstraction, by a stage personage . . . Shakespeare nowhere introduces characters which are overtly allegorical, but his representational characters frequently have about them a suggestion of allegory or symbol."

214

" t r o i l u s and cressida"

the talents of the Greeks may charm Cressida's mind away from thoughts of him. For, he tells her, . . . sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency. (IV, iv, 97-99) Then, reluctantly, he delivers her into the hands of Diomedes, who says to Cressida: The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek, Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. (IV, iv, 120-22) Sensing a rival, the jealous idealist cries: . . . I tell thee, lord of Greece, She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant. The realist, disturbed neither by the accompanying threats nor by the insult, replies: I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth She shall be prized; but that you say "be't so", I'll speak it in my spirit and honour, "no." (IV, iv, 135-137) In the next scene Diomedes leads Cressida into the Greek camp, where Agamemnon salutes her with a kiss. Ulysses suggests that the salute be general; and since Cressida makes no protest, all present seem to enter enthusiastically into the spirit of things. But when Ulysses' turn comes, Cressida teasingly delays her greeting. He then, in effect, renounces his desire for a kiss: Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss, When Helen is a maid again, and his.

(IV, v, 49-50)

Obviously the first condition is unlikely to be fulfilled. Mr. S. L . Bethell believes that, in this scene, Ulysses assumes the role of a morality character; acting as a kind of impersonal wisdom, the wily Greek devises a test for Cressida, and she fails. 29 Significant2»

Ibid., pp. 120, 122.

215

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

ly, during the course of the kissing, Cressida wittily alludes to the cuckolding of Menelaus by Paris and Helen. After listening to the banter, old Nestor calls her "A woman of quick sense" (IV, v, 54). And we learn that he speaks more truth than he means. So alive are Cressida's senses and so speedly can they be enlivened that she is shortly to fall into the arms of Diomedes. Ulysses sums up her character thus: Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body. O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give accosting welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts To every ticklish reader! set them down For sluttish spoils of opportunity And daughters of the game. (IV, v, 54-63)

Mr. Bethell may be right when he sees the influence of convention in this scene, but there is realism as well. He himself observes that we could think more of Ulysses for refusing the kiss if he had not devised the test.30 The fact is, however, that the general kissing does not in itself call for a condemnation of character. Cressida would not be condemned for following an Elizabethan custom. Perhaps it is the way she goes about it that brings down the censure of Ulysses. For, after all, there are kisses and there are kisses. It appears to be the dumb language of her body and her adeptness at social flirtation which disturb Ulysses. But we should also note that Ulysses' caustic appraisal may be somewhat prejudiced; for it seems to be, at least partially, a consequence of his chagrin at her teasing delay in giving him the kiss he has requested: Ulyss.: May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? You may. I do desire it. Why, beg, then. (IV, v, 47-48)

Cr es:. Ulyss.: Cres.: 30

Ibid., ρ 121.

216

"troilus and cressida"

However this may be, Ulysses' commentary on Cressida carries weight: The impression which the audience has received of a lightness in the lady's character is reinforced by this scene. And it is here that the great disparity between the characters of Troilus and Cressida becomes evident. For later in the scene Ulysses has occasion to comment on the character of Troilus; asked by Agamemnon to identify Troilus, he says: The youngest son of Priam, a true knight, Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word, Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calm'd; His heart and hand both open and both free; For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows; Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath; Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes To tender objects, but he in heat of action Is more vindicative than jealous love: They call him Troilus, and on him erect A second hope, as fairly built as Hector. Thus says Aeneas; one that knows the youth Even to his inches, and with private soul Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.31

Later Troilus asks Ulysses to lead him to the tent of Calcas, and the stage is set for the disenchantment of the immature and idealistic young knight. Act V, scene ii, a dramatic tour de force, finds Ulysses and Troilus watching Diomedes and Cressida. These four are, in turn, being observed by the scurrilous Thersites, about whom more will be said later. Here Troilus' image of Cressida is shattered, and here Cressida gives herself over to another and more unworthy lover, one who is, it becomes clear, impervious to her :u Richard C. Harrier ("Troilus Divided", Studies in the English Renaissance Drama, ed. J. W. Bennett, Oscar Cargill, and Vernon Hall, Jr., New York University Press, 1959, pp. 144-145) has made this significant point: The fact that Aeneas, "the single Trojan figure whose virtue and magnificence were unquestionable to an Elizabethan audience," is the source of Ulysses' approving assessment of Troilus makes it clear that this evaluation is meant to be accepted by the audience.

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

217

womanly wiles; not to be duped by her stratagems, demanding and crass almost to the point of brutality in his treatment of her, Diomedes strips Cressida of all her feminine pretense and forces her to accept love on his terms. When she falters and wishes to take back the pledge of her love that she has given him (a sleeve which had been given to her by Troilus), he refuses to return it and insists on knowing whose it was originally. Realizing full well the implications of the change of lovers - "'twas one's that loved me better than you will" (IV, ii, 88) - , Cressida, nevertheless, cannot overpower the sway of her emotions. She explains the nature of the weakness that has caused her to betray the love of Troilus: Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind: What error leads must err; O, then conclude Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. (V, ii, 109-12)

Diomedes, the realist who has already evaluated the subject of the war accurately, now has, we see, evaluated Cressida accurately, thus, in effect, exposing Troilus' idealistic misconception of her. The great Trojan warrior discovers the terrible chasm between his Cressida and Diomedes' Cressida, which parallels the disparity between his oratorical appraisal of Helen ("a pearl", "a theme of honor and renown") and Diomedes' interpretation of Menelaus' wife ("a flat tamed piece"). As he observes Diomedes and Cressida, the world divides and almost slips away from him. His mind and heart cannot believe those calumniators, his eyes and ears. The horrible yawning disunity of experience has manifested itself to him for the first time, and he finds his new perspective of life difficult to accept. This Cressida he sees is not the real Cressida: . . . this is Diomed's Cressida: If beauty have a soul, this is not she; If souls guide vows, of vows be sanctimonies, If sanctimony be the god's delight, If there be rule in unity itself, This is not she. Ο madness of discourse,

218

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

That cause sets up with and against itself! Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt Without perdition, and loss assume all reason Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid. Within my soul there doth conduce a fight Of this strange nature that a thing inseparate Divides more wider than the sky and earth, And yet the spacious breadth of this division Admits no orifex for a point as subtle As Ariachne's broken woof to enter. Instance, Ο instance! strong as Pluto's gates; Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven: Instance, Ο instance! strong as heaven itself; The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolved, and loosed; And with another knot, five-finger-tied, The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed. (V, ii, 137-60) Charles Williams' commentary on this scene is worth regarding: The crisis which Troilus endured is one common to all men; it is in a sense the only interior crisis worth talking about. It is that in which every nerve of the body, every consciousness of the mind, shrieks that something cannot be. Only it i s . . . There is a world where our mothers are unsoiled and Cressida is his; there is a world where our mothers are soiled and Cressida is given to Diomed . . . Agamemnon and Nestor had made orations about the disappointments of life, the failure of 'the ample proposition that hope makes,' and the need of courage and patience. Ulysses had answered by pointing out that degree and order were being lost. It was all very wise, very noble, talk. But in Troilus the thing has happened: the plagues, portents, and mutinies have begun to "divert and crack, rend and deracinate" his being.82 Bitter sorrow and despair turn to rage, and Troilus sweeps all the passion of his thwarted love into his hatred of Diomedes, which, he says, " . . . shalle be divulged well / In characters as red as Mars his heart / Inflamed with Venus . . . " (V, ii, 163-165). Thus the themes of love and war are again pulled together. 32

Quoted by Tillyard from Charles Williams' English Poetic Mind (1932), p. 78.

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

219

We have examined the thematic symmetry of the enveloping action and the love story. Let us now investigate what we may call the main sub-plot, the Hector-Achilles action. The theme of this aspect of the play is not merely symmetrical to, but rather integral in, the enveloping action. Hector and Achilles are indexes or, to borrow a phrase from Nestor, "baby figures of the giant mass" of the enveloping action. Ulysses' appraisal of Achilles is significant in this connection. Achilles is possessed with his own greatness, And speaks not to himself but with a pride That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse That 'twixt his mental and his active parts Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages And batters down himself . . . (II, iii, 181-86)

The kingdom of the man Achilles is upset; thus he may be called a microcosm of the Greek state, in which private passions undo reason and in which the physical instruments of action are severed from the instruments of thought. For, as D. A. Traversi has observed, Ulysses' reference to Kingdom'd clearly refers the personal issue back to the general theme of degree: "The individual warrior, like the Greek polity at war, should be a unity founded upon 'degree'; and 'degree' in the individual is an ideal correspondence between thought and action, impulse and control, 'blood' and 'judgement.' " 3 8 Similarly, Hector is an index of the Trojan state, in which private passions overcome reason and concern for the public good. Here, too, action and thought are at odds. Reason, then, calls for Achilles to be put into action and Hector to be taken out of action for the public good of their respective states. But reason has failed. Achilles lolls in his tent; Hector threshes in the field. To see how far Hector's initial error has led him from the path of reason, one has only to look at Act V, scene iii. Here the great Trojan warrior prepares for battle despite the protests of his 83 D. A. Traversi, "Troilus and Cressida", Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, op. cit., p. 15.

220

"troilus and cressida"

wife, Andromache, who has been troubled by ominous dreams. She finds reinforcements in her arguments when Cassandra enters. But Hector refuses to budge from his position, for he has made a vow to go to the field. Ironically, as Professor Tillyard observes, Cassandra, in trying to hold Hector back, uses exactly the same arguments he had used in the council scene for sending Helen to the Greeks. And, Tillyard concludes: "Just as with his understanding he knew that for the general good Helen should be restored, so he must now know that it is for the general good that he should avoid fighting on this fatal day. Again his will follows not his understanding but the emotional direction of his sense of honor." 84 Ulysses had prophesied in his great speech of Act I, scene iii, that, with order undone, power usurps justice, becomes will, and then turns to appetite. The appetite imagery which pervades this drama of disorder in nation and individual alike underlines the truth of his words. One event, in particular, is of interest in this regard - the conversation between Hector and Achilles that takes place during the course of the Trojan's visit under the flag of truce to the Greek camp. Achilles' pride is wounded. He is smarting from the effects of Ulysses' plot to get him back into action. For his fellow Greeks, acting under the instructions of Ulysses, have begun to snub him; and Ajax has been selected to respond to the challenge of Hector, who, as the flower of chivalric knighthood,35 has sent this message to the Greek camp: If there be one among the fair'st of Greece That holds his honour higher than his ease, That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril, That knows his valour, and knows not his fear, That loves his mistress more than in confession, 34

Tillyard, op. cit., p. 66. Hector's challenge, as Lawrence states (op. cit., p. 143), "is wholly in the spirit of the fantastic code of chivalry. Such matters as these were thoroughly familiar to the Elizabethans from romantic narrative, the heritage of by-gone days." Ironically in view of the way he dies, Hector carries the chivalric code to the extreme. Troilus rebukes him for his "vice of mercy" (V, iii, 37), pointing out that "When many times the captive Grecian falls, / Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, / You bid them rise, and live" (V, iii, 40-42). 35

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

221

With truant vows to her own lips he loves, And dare avow her beauty and her worth In other arms than hers, — to him this challenge. Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks, Shall make it good, or do his best to do it, He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer, Than ever Greek did compass in his arms, And will to-morrow with his trumpet call Midway between your tents and walls of Troy, To rouse a Grecian that is true in love: If any come, Hector shall honour him; If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires, The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth The splinter of a lance. (I, iii, 2 6 5 - 8 3 )

Moreover, to make sure that Achilles has not missed the point, Ulysses, in one of the most famous speeches of the play, has carefully explained the corrosive effects of time and inactivity on even the greatest reputations. Thus it is that Achilles, in a surly mood, asks that Hector be directed to his tent, where he engages him in a significant conversation, part of which follows: Achil.: Now Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; I have with exact view perused thee, Hector, And quoted joint by joint. Hect.: Is this Achilles? Achil.: I am Achilles. Hect.: Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. Achil.: Behold thy fill. (IV, ν, 231-236) Achilles' pride, we may assume, causes him to lust for the death of Hector: Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name And make distinct the very breach whereout Hector's great spirit flew: answer me, heavens! (IV, v, 242-246) Nevertheless, as we have already noted, Achilles, because of the token which he receives from Polyxena, stays away from the

222

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

field of battle, his desire for love overcoming his lust to kill Hector. It is only when the news of Patroclus' death at the hands of Hector comes that Achilles is roused to action. No noble motive moves him; it is personal passion that sends him into battle. The passion which now drives him, one suspects, is even more reprehensible than the passion that caused him to ignore his duty to his country. For there is a suggestion of homosexuality in the realationship between Achilles and Patroclus.38 At last Hector and Achilles meet on the field of battle. The first encounter is a brief one. They separate and Hector is attracted to a mysterious figure in splendid armor. When the strange Greek knight refuses to fight, Hector cries: . . I like thy armour well; I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all, But I'll be master of it: wilt thou not, beast, abide? Why, then fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide. (V, vi, 28-31)

Having achieved his victory, Hector removes his helmet and shield in order to strip the armor from the knight he has killed; he comments: Most putrefied core, so fair without, Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. N o w is my day's work done; I'll take good breath: Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death. (V, ix, 1-4)

The symbolic meaning of this scene has been well analyzed by Professor Bethell, who says: "The sumptuous armour with its putrified core thus becomes a symbol of all the play presents to us, the theme of 'fair without, and foul within,' which is applicable almost everywhere in the Troy and Troilus stories . . . " 87 While the unarmed Hector is stripping the armor from his 38 Thersites calls Patroclus "Achilles' male varlet" (V, i, 15), which he defines as "masculine whore" (V, i, 17). 37 Bethell, op. cit., p. 126. Mr. Bethell finds this scene defective on the realistic level because of the reference to putrified core. How, he asks, could the carcass of the dead knight have decayed in so short a time? I suggest that Hector uses the term "putrified" figuratively. The man inside the armor has revealed himself to be a coward; hence he is the "putrified core".

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

223

victim, Achilles' Myrmidons come upon him and, at their master's command, slay him. Ironically, at this point we find Achilles pushed into action by unworthy motives and Hector pausing from action for unworthy motives. Achilles seeks revenge for the grief that is a result of an illicit passion; Hector is suddenly overcome by covetousness.38 And Achilles in action, as a result of the cowardly slaying of Hector, sinks to ignominy; somewhat similarly, Hector, resting from action because of an ignoble motive, dies ignominiously. Significantly, in this scene the imagery of appetite is used by both warriors: Hector, after disposing of the knight in splendid armor, says: "Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death" (V, ix, 4). And, after the death of Hector, Achilles observes: "My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed, / Pleased with dainty bait, thus goes to bed" (V, ix, 19-20). Now that we have completed an examination of the TroilusCressida story and of the Hector-Achilles story, it might be well to note what appears to be another significant parallel in the design of the play: the structural relationship of the characters of Achilles and Cressida. Each acts as an agent in the personal catastrophe of a Trojan leader. Also each proves faithless to an idealistic code, Cressida to the chivalric code of love and Achilles to the chivalric code of war. I mentioned earlier the lust of Achilles for the death of Hector because it appears, in a sense, to correspond to the desire of Cressida for Troilus. Before the first meeting between Achilles and Hector, which we have already discussed, Achilles says: . . . I have a woman's longing An appetite that I am sick withal, To see great Hector in his weeds of peace, 18 According to Lydgate's version of the story in the Troy Book, as Tillyard points out (op. cit., p. 44), Hector died because of his covetousness: Desyre of havynge, in a gredy thought, To highe noblesse sothly longeth nought, Now swiche pelfre, spoillynge, nor robberie Apartene to worthi chivalrye; For covetyse and knyghthod, as I lere, In ο cheyne may not be knet y-fere. (ΠΙ, 5361-5366)

224

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

T o talk with him and to behold his visage, Even to m y full of view. (Ill, iii, 2 3 7 - 2 4 1 )

Moreover, both Cressida and Achilles are progressively degraded as the play continues until in their final scenes they have reached the depths of ignominy. The possibility that such an interpretive parallel was intended seems to be reinforced by Shakespeare's use of corresponding imagery with regard to the two turncoats to idealism. In Act III, scene ii, Troilus meets Cressida in Pandarus' orchard. Some instinct of Cressida's troubles her. Troilus asks, "What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?" (Ill, ii, 71-72). "More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes" (III, ii, 73), is her reply. Achilles is similarly disturbed in Act III, scene iii. The stage is set for the challenge match between Ajax and Hector, and the words of Ulysses about his waning reputation have troubled him. He sends a message to Ajax asking him to invite Hector to come unarmed to his tent. And then he says, "My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; / And I myself see not the bottom of it" (III, iii, S U SI 2). The dregs in the fountain of love appear to forecast the infidelity of Cressida; the cloudy fountain of Achilles' mind appears to anticipate his dishonorable conquest of Hector. Thus both Achilles and Cressida are troubled instinctively by approaching degradation.39 In our discussion of the design of the play we have failed to include one significant motif: the time theme. So powerfully is this theme presented in one great speech - that of Ulysses to Achilles (III, iii, 195-100) - and in numerous other shorter speeches, that one critic, D. A. Traversi, has been led to say that "The tragedy indeed consists less in the personal suffering of the lovers than in the overriding influence exercised by time upon all human relationships and feelings".40 Likewise, Dr. Till39 It is perhaps significant, too, that in the scene preceding that in which Troilus discovers the discrepancy between the picture of what Cressida is to him and what she really is, Thersites exclaims to Achilles: "Why. thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee" (V, i, 7-8). 4I) Traversi, op. cit., p. 10.

" t r o i l u s and cressida"

225

yard says that Troilus and Cressida presents a world "in which human plans count for little and the sheer gestation of time and what it reveals count for much". 41 The characters in this play, he maintains, do not dominate time; they are caught up in its movement, whereas in the great tragedies the characters force the pace of time. So it is that Troilus, like Hamlet, is a drama in which "the sheer wealth of the display counts for more than the lessons we learn from the way events are disposed".42 It seems to me that time is not the dominating theme in the play but an aspect of the cosmic theme of disorder and order. According to the Elizabethan view, men who leave the realm of reason for that of the lower faculties are at the mercy of time and their own raging appetites. It is true that, in the great tragedies, one is not as conscious of the effects of time as he is in Troilus and Cressida. Nevertheless, I count it an error to say, as Tillyard does, that " . . . Shakespeare did, in this play, choose to show things happening rather than men so making things happen as to imply a clear and powerful moral scheme".48 There is, I think, a strong moral theme in this play. Disorder in the individual, the play tells us, causes disorder in the state and may lead to catastrophe in both. Hector and Troilus are noble individuals infected with a flaw that upsets their personal orders and leads to the downfall of the Trojan state. Both place a mistaken concept of honor above thought; ironically, Hector knows it is mistaken, but he allows his natural inclinations to overcome his reason when they are encouraged by the ardent rhetoric of his youngest brother. Paris, too, suffers from a flaw. But he could never be a tragic figure, for his defect is on a much lower plane; the passion of pride moves him not so much as his lust for Helen - "Sweet", he tells her, "above thought I love you" (III, i, 172). Though there is a strong and natural sexual element in Troilus' love for Cressida and though, as we have noted, there is a purposive structural parallelism between the two triangles, the nature of Troilus' love and the nature of 41 42 43

Tillyard, op. cit., p. 82. Ibid., p. 83. Ibid., p. 86.

226

"troilus and cressida"

Troilus' flaw are not to be equated with those of Paris'. Troilus is a young man who learns the hard way that experience is not always whole: that what the senses command and what the mind desires are not always one and the same thing. Cressida's outward beauty and his own imperious sexual urges persuade him that she is as beautiful within as without. The discovery that his vision is false combined with a second bitter jolt, the news of the ignominy of Hector's death - "He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail, / In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field" (V, x, 4-5) - these things wreck whatever possibility there has been of his attaining maturity. Though, at the conclusion of the play, Troilus repudiates Pandarus - "Hence, broker-lackey! ignomy and shame / Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!" (V, x, 33-34) - we do not feel that bitter experience has taught him wisdom. We remember his contorted emotions and his wild prophecy of revenge: Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed! Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy! I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sure destructions on! . . . You vile abominable tents, Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains, Let Titan rise as early as he dare. I'll through and through you! and, thou great-sized coward, N o space of earth shall sunder our two hates: I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. (V, x, 6-9, 23-29)

Though Troilus never really attains wisdom, he may be regarded as a tragic hero. In order to see him otherwise, to see him as an object of scorn, it is necessary to give more thematic weight to the characters of Pandarus and Thersites than they can carry. One must be prepared to say, as O. J. Campbell is, that "Pandarus acts as the official commentator for the love story just as does Thersites for the events of the war".44 But we have already suggested that the kind of love which animates Troilus is outside 44

Campbell, op. cit., p. 117.

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

227

the comprehension of Pandarus, for the fact that Troilus bestows his love on an unworthy object does not put him in the same category with his crassly sophisticated go-between. To differentiate between the minds of Pandarus and Troilus is, of course, not to deny the fact that Troilus' concept of love is as misguided or immature, in some respects, as his argument for the continuation of the war. Consider, for example, this statement: "This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite and the execution confined, that the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit" (III, ii, 88-90). Nevertheless, all things considered, it seems to me that Lawrence is right when he says that Troilus is an "object for the beholder's compassion - an ardent high-spirited boy who gives all the fervor of his idealistic young love to a false and shallow woman, and tastes the bitterest dregs in the cup of disillusion".45 Like Pandarus, Thersites is incapable of evaluating Troilus properly. When, for example, Troilus vows revenge on Diomedes after expressing his disillusionment at the perfidy of Cressida, Thersites sneers: "He'll tickle it for his concupy" (V, ii, 176). Much, needless to say, is lost in such an interpretation of the situation. Thersites, it seems, is derisive because he is incapable of understanding ideals, mistaken or otherwise. A malcontent from birth apparently - at least there is no indication that his sour vision is the product of a personal disillusionment - , he is unable to appreciate the pathos of distorted nobility. Structurally, however, Thersites plays an important part in the play. The images which he uses in his vulgar comments serve to link the war and love themes; and, in this play of infinite balance and variety, Thersites has a counterpart. As Fluchere has noted: On the one side there is the loud-mouthed Thersites, the professional scoffer, the embodiment of cynicism, who reduces the grand design of the War of Troy to a struggle for a whore and a cuckold... On the other side, there is the shady character of Pandarus, the hero's pimp . . . The one sees nothing in human nature but stupidity, pride, useless cruelty, instinctive and arrogant bestiality. The other is in a 45

Lawrence, op. cit., p. 142.

228

"troilus and cressida"

good mood only when he can further illicit amours; he is at ease only in immorality.4' Troilus and Cressida, then, belongs in the realm of tragedy. But it is less satisfying, in many respects, than most of the other Shakespearian tragedies because the protagonist has not come to an understanding of himself. He remains confused. Disillusionment without wisdom, despair without an illumination of the spirit - these are the withered fruits of Troilus' experience. The last view we have of Troilus, that of a proud young warrior who has been twisted by the sway of wild and whirling emotions, evokes pity and perhaps fear. Lacking, however, is the sense of awe which comes at the end of the great tragedies. Though there are religious images (including several Christian allusions) in the language of Troilus and Cressida47 and perhaps at times elements of the morality play in its characterization,48 411 FluchSre, op. cit., p. 213. The language of Pandarus, like that of Thersites, we might note, often links the love-war themes. See, for example, the song which he sings at Helen's request: Love, love, nothing but love, still more; For, O, love's bow Shoots buck and doe: The shaft confounds, Not that it wounds, But tickles still the sore. These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die! Yet that which seems the wound to kill, Doth turn oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha! Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha! Heigh-ho! (IH, i, 125-137) And, for that matter, almost every character in the play, at one time or other, performs this function. Here is Troilus on Helen: . . . Helen must needs be fair, When with your blood you daily paint her thus. (I, i, 93-94) And here is Aeneas describing his eagerness to go to the field: Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity, Let us address to tend on Hector's h e e l s . . . (IV, iv, 147-148) 47 For an interesting interpretation based on the Christian allusions in the play, see J. A. Bryant's chapter on Troilus and Cressida in Hippolyta's View: Some Christian Aspects of Shakespeare's Plays, (University of Kentucky Press, 1961), pp. 68-85. 48 In addition to the allegorical elements already mentioned, it is interesting to note the references to Hector's "vice of mercy" (V, iii, 37) and

"troilus and cressida"

229

they are not thematically or structurally functional to the extent that such elements are in Hamlet, All's Well That Ends Well, and Measure for Measure. For what separates Troilus in this respect from the rest of the so-called problem plays is the lack of a metaphysical suggestion with respect to the ultimate destiny of the protagonist. Angelo, Bertram, and Hamlet are seen in the light of eternity; Troilus stands alone in the dusk of a dying civilization, the victim of his own passionate infatuation with false ideals. The world of Troilus and Cressida is one of retribution only; it lacks the implication of redemption - in this world or in the next. The fact, however, that the play ends with the protagonist in the throes of an emotional and moral chaos does not imply that Shakespeare is suggesting the same thing that Hemingway suggests in our own century: that external values do not exist, or that the individual must create his own values in order to achieve meaning and order in an otherwise chaotic universe. Quite the contrary. In modern literature the existentialist hero, like the protagonists of Hemingway's novels, achieves a kind of triumph over the nada that haunts his consciousness by erecting his own system of values and remaining faithful to it. But the Shakespare hero who, like Troilus, attempts to set up personal ideals born of Troilus' vice of truth and simplicity. These character traits, however, are not directly connected with the action of the play; structurally, they are peripheral to the action. That flaw of Hector's, for example, which is structurally pertinent is the weakness of his will. Troilus' vice of simplicity is perhaps more pertinent structurally than Hector's vice of mercy, but the emphasis in the passage which calls attention to this vice is actually on Troilus' conventional character as the constant lover (here, it seems, Troilus' role is the same as it was in III, ii, 204-11): Cres.: My lord, will you be true? Tro.: Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault: Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity; Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit Is 'plain and true'; there's all the reach of it. (IV, iv, 104-10) Thematically, these allegorical or morality elements are of little importance because they are not connected to the action pattern of the morality play.

230

"TROILUS AND CRESSIDA"

passion in place of the traditional values of reason must come to disaster. We may admire the thrust of his spirit, but we must also deplore the spectacle of distorted greatness. In form and mood then, Troilus and Cressida is something of an anomaly in the Shakespeare canon. However, though no other Shakespeare play has its tone or its indecisive conclusion, it belongs in the category of tragedy. And the system of ideas that gives it form corresponds to the main current of thought that runs through Shakespeare's other plays and, for that matter, through the Elizabethan era.

VII. CONCLUSION

The analyses of the problem plays in the preceding chapters have led us to the conclusion that the structures of three of the plays in this group are based on a pattern similar to that employed by Dante in the Divine Comedy. This pattern comes to Shakespeare through the framework of the mystery cycle and the morality play. Dante and Shakespeare, we have said, are alike in this respect only because they were working within the same pattern of thought. For, from their common Christian perspective, an individual who follows the pattern of temptation, sin, remorse, repentance, penance, and pardon is in the position of Everyman; and the small drama in which he works out his salvation must be seen in the light of the great events of the history of the race - the Fall of Satan, the Fall of Adam, and the Triumph of the Second Adam. Everyman thus plays a part in the great cosmic drama of sin and salvation, and the forces that war within him may be traced to the influence of the great archetypal figures who set the patterns for human conduct - Satan, Adam and Eve, Cain, and Christ. Those Shakespeare plays in which the morality framework plays a dominant part, then, follow, generally speaking, the structural pattern of Dante's Comedy. We have found that two of the problem plays, All's Well That Ends Well and Measure for Measure, are particularly indebted, structurally speaking, to the morality pattern. Of the two All's Well is the closer to the morality, for its protagonist is flanked by two characters who, though they have been made into human beings with distinctive personalities, are obviously representatives of the virtues and

232

CONCLUSION

vices which, in the morality, struggled for the possession of man's soul. Moreover, Parolles, the vice of the play, is, through several allusions, connected with the devil while Helena, the virtue, is, through her action of substitution, made analogous to Christ. The bones of the morality play are more fully fleshed in Measure for Measure. Here there are no outward representatives of the morality virtue or vice. The action pattern of Angelo, however, along with that of several other characters in this drama, is clearly similar to the pattern of the morality protagonist. Because of the religious or theological associations that such a pattern implies, one may see in these plays a moral, a Christological, and an eschatological significance. On the literal level of All's Well Bertram is a young man who wants to choose his own wife and who spurns Helena because she is, by birth, beneath him. It quickly becomes evident to the audience that, morally speaking, Bertram is in trouble. He places too much importance on social appearances, and the consequences of such an error can be grave,. Helena's substitution supplies the Christological element in the drama. The sacrifice that she makes out of her human love for Bertram reflects the sacrifice that Christ made out of divine love for all of humanity, and the pardon that Bertram asks for and receives anticipates or reflects salvation on a metaphysical plane. Like Bertram, Angelo is morally blind. Because he is guilty of excessive pride, he is not sufficiently aware of his own human frailty; and this too is a dangerous condition. He is saved from the consequences of his sins through actions of the Duke and Mariana, which, in the context of the play, suggest the significance of the action of Atonement for Everyman. And the secular pardon that the Duke affords Angelo, like that which Bertram receives from Helena, seems, in view of the allusiveness of the play, to suggest or anticipate another pardon on a higher plane of reality. Though the pattern of mercy governs the structure of these plays, the pattern of retribution is not ignored. The mental anguish that Bertram is subjected to at the conclusion of All's Well corresponds to the penance that Everyman must make before becoming eligible for pardon. Angelo undergoes a similar ex-

CONCLUSION

233

perience, and he makes restitution to Mariana for the ill he has done her before he is allowed to experience the balm of pardon. The motif of retribution for moral error is clearly reflected also in the action patterns of Parolles and Lucio. The other two problem plays, Troilus and Cressida and Hamlet, are not medieval or Dantean comedies; they are tragedies. But, structurally speaking, Hamlet may be associated with All's Well and Measure for Measure. Though the ending of Hamlet is not a happy one, the implication of an afterlife suggested by Horatio, whose character gives authority to what he says, puts Hamlet into the same metaphysical position occupied by Bertram and Angelo at the conclusion of their respective dramas. Also Hamlet's action pattern, though not as clearly a derivative from the morality, is quite similar to that of Bertram and Angelo. Like them, he moves from the state of sin to that of salvation. But since there is within his tragic world no substitution to keep him from error, he must accept the consequences of what he has done. His recognition of his error and his acknowledgment of the justness of his impending punishment account, however, for the implication of Christian salvation. The motif of retribution plays a far more prominent part in Hamlet than it does in either Measure for Measure or All's Well, and the slight suggestion of a happy ending on another, higher plane of reality than this world, which allows us to associate the structure of Hamlet with the frameworks of All's Well and Measure for Measure, does not, as we have tried to show, dilute the tragic impact of the play. The morality play, we have noted, is meant to be read against the background of the mystery cycle. It derives its significance, for the most part implicitly, from the significance of the major events depicted in the mystery cycle. It is interesting to observe that those Shakespeare plays which we have discussed thus far in this chapter - All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Hamlet also, in one way or other, make use of this background. We have pointed out, for example, the use of Christian analogy in the characterization and in the action of these plays. In Claudio we are reminded of both the serpent and Cain, in Gertrude we see overtones of Eve, in the Duke we may discern a reflection of God.

234

CONCLUSION

It is not easy to make a generalization that would explain the technique that Shakespeare employs in this regard. If he telescopes the connotations of the serpent and Cain in such a way that they help us to understand the significance of a Claudio, he also associates Lucifer and the morality protagonist to explain an Angelo. Traces of the same kind of creative proces also appear in the character of Helena. Her role in All's Well is, to a certain extent, derived from that of the virtue in the morality play; but, if our speculations are correct, her act of substitution associates her character with that of Christ. We should again emphasize a point we have made earlier: that Shakespeare's technique is symbolic rather than allegorical. All of these characters are human beings; the allusions or actions that connect them with the great archetypal figures of Christian story or with the allegorical tradition of the morality play merely indicate the nature of the philosophical and religious framework within which we are to read the significance of what happens to them. Just as the characters are symbolic rather than allegorical, so it is with those actions which, in their rich allusiveness, call attention to things outside the plays in which they occur. The fall of Angelo, the poison in the Danish orchard, the substitutions of Helena and Mariana, the pardons of Bertram and Angelo - the universal implications of these acts illuminate the human predicament. The problems of a country, or a city, or of an individual are projected onto a cosmic screen that is timeless. And we see the more clearly the evil that lurks in circumstance and in human character, and the remedy for it. Whether Shakespeare was entirely conscious of the extent to which the medieval Christian theological and dramatic tradition influenced his art is conjectural. But this question is of small importance. Μ Shakespeare had kept a notebook like that of Coleridge and if there were a John Livingston Lowes to interpret it, perhaps some of the suggestions we have made in the analyses would be more compelling. Surely it is not necessary to assume, say, that Shakespeare set out deliberately to combine the patterns of the morality play and the mystery cycle in Measure for Measure. The important thing is that this is, apparently, what he has

CONCLUSION

235

done. And, I think, before passing judgment on such an interpretive point, one would do well to keep in mind the fact that the logic of poetic creation is essentially the same in all ages. The kind of subtlety we have found in Shakespeare's conscious and/ or unconscious dramatic and poetic technique is freely granted to the modern poets by modern critics. Given the background of thought and the dramatic tradition within which Shakespeare was working, the subtlety that we have suggested in some of our interpretations does not seem beyond the range of a mind which everyone would agree was the most powerfully creative that the world has ever known. How valid these interpretations are should be judged, then, according to the weight and authority of the evidence mustered in the individual chapters. The framework that has guided our interpretations of All's Well, Measure for Measure, and Hamlet is not applicable to Troilus and Cressida. This play remains wholly on the secular level of reality. Though perhaps the influence of the morality play may be discerned in some of the characters in Troilus and Cressida (see note 48, Chapter VI) and though there are several Christian allusions in it, these elements are not pervasive or significant enough to influence either the form or meaning of the drama. The pattern of thought that informs Troilus and Cressida, however, is not alien to that which we have found in Hamlet, All's Well, and Measure for Measure. If our conclusions about Troilus carry weight, then we can say that the motif of a retribution that comes inevitably to those men who succumb to disorder suggests a rational, orderly principle in the universe. And, in the eyes of the Elizabethans, this principle was associated with Christianity. The only remedy for the consequences of such disorder lies in the Christian concept of repentance, penance, and pardon, which, in Troilus and Cressida, is conspicuously lacking. As Tillyard has pointed out, the angelic part of the great chain of being is omitted in Ulysses' speech on degree, "and this is typical of the whole of Troilus and Cressida.1 The bow has been bent and drawn. It is now time to present 1 Ε. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's Chatto & Windus, 1957), p. 84.

Problem

Plays, 3rd ed. (London,

236

CONCLUSION

as briefly as possible our conclusions about the problem plays as a group. The analyses we have made of All's Well and Measure for Measure appear to contradict Dowden's belief that the darkness in these plays is unrelieved by a metaphysical framework. And our study of Troilus and Cressida has led us to the conclusion that this play is not a bitter comedy. Accordingly, we should find it difficult to believe that these plays reflect a period of philosophical disillusionment in Shakespeare's life. The fact that we have found an implicit Christian framework in Measure for Measure and All's Well also leads us to disagree with Lawrence's conclusion that the "problem mood" dominates these plays, that issues which can have no satisfactory conclusion in the framework of comedy are dealt with. And, consequently, we also are unable to accept Tillyard's conclusion that these plays contain abstract speculations which are not fully absorbed into the action of the dramas and that there is no supreme theme reflected in their structures. Structurally and thematically, All's Well and Measure for Measure are very much alike in that they are based on the great cosmic scheme of sin and redemption through the grace of God. With regard to characterization and structure Measure for Measure is unquestionably the better of the two plays. But All's Well, as I have attempted to show, is a better play than has been generally acknowledged. Hamlet belongs to a different genre, but its overall pattern is, generally speaking, not unlike that of All's Well and Measure for Measure. Troilus, which also belongs to a different genre, lacks the morality action pattern and the implication of a metaphysical redemption, those important elements which allow the structure of Hamlet to be associated with the structures of All's Well and Measure for Measure. The structural importance of Ulysses' speech on degree and the way the implications of this speech are reflected in the action pattern of the drama indicate, however, that its framework is based on a pattern of thought that was very much a part of the Elizabethan Weltanschauung. Though Hamlet, because of its complexity, will always be something of a mystery to interpreters, and though Troilus,

CONCLUSION

237

structurally speaking, may always be somewhat puzzling to critics, the phrase "problem plays" seems to be a poor designation for this group of dramas. The phrase is probably best regarded as an idiom of Shakespearian interpretation, a convenient tag for four plays that have provoked much critical controversy.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Adams, John F., "All's Well That Ends Well: The Paradox of Procreation", Shakespeare Quarterly, ΧΠ (Summer, 1961), 261-270. Alighieri, Dante, The Convivio of Dante Alighieri. Translated by Philip H. Wicksteed (Temple Classics) (London, J. M. Dent & Sons, 1924). , The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri. Translated by Charles Eliot Norton ( = Great Books of the Western World, Vol. XXI) (Chicago, Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., 1955). , A Translation of the Latin Works of Dante Alighieri. Translated by A. G. F. Howell and P. H. Wicksteed (Temple Classics) (London, J. M. Dent & Sons, 1929). Arthos, John, "The Comedy of Generation", Essays in Criticism, V (April, 1955), 97-117. Atkins, J. W. H., English Literary Criticism: The Renascence (London, Methuen and Co., 1947). Auerbach, Erich, "Figurative Texts Illustrating Certain Passages of Dante's Comedia", Speculum, XXI (October, 1946), 474-489. , Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature. Translated by Willard R. Trask (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1953). Augustine, Saint, Sermons on the Liturgical Seasons. Translated by Sister Mary Sarah Muldowney (New York, Fathers of the Church, Inc., 1959). Battenhouse, R. W., "Measure for Measure and the Christian Doctrine of Atonement", Publications of the Modern Language Association, LXI (December, 1946), 1029-1056. Bethell, S. L., Shakespeare and the Popular Dramatic Tradition (Durham. Duke University Press, 1944). Bradbrook, M. C., "Authority, Truth and Justice in Measure for Measure", The Review of English Studies, XVII (October, 1941), 385-399. , "Virtue Is the True Nobility: A Study of the Structure of All's Well That Ends Well", The Review of English Studies, New Series, I (October, 1960), 289-301. , "What Shakespeare Did to Chaucer's Troilus", Shakespeare Quarterly, IX (Summer, 1958), 311-330. Brooke, C. F. T., and Paradise, Ν. B. (eds.), English Drama: 1580-1642 (New York, D. C. Heath & Co., 1933). Brown, Ivor, Shakespeare (London, Collins, 1949).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

239

Brown, John Russell, "The Interpretation of Shakespeare's Comedies: 19001953", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), pp. 1-13. Bryant, J. Α., Jr., Hippolyta's View: Some Christian Aspects of Shakespeare's Plays (University of Kentucky Press, 1961). Bullough, Geoffrey, Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare: The Comedies, 1597-1603, Vol. Π (London, Routledge & Paul, 1957). Campbell, Lily B., Shakespeare's Tragic Heroes: Slaves of Passion (New York, Barnes & Noble, 1959). Campbell, Oscar J., Shakespeare's Satire (London, Oxford University Press, 1943). Chambers, Ε. K., The Mediaeval Stage, Vol. Π (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1903). Chambers, R. W., "The Jacobean Shakespeare and Measure for Measure", in Proceedings of the British Academy, XXIII (London, Oxford University Press, 1937), pp. 135-192. Charlton, Η. B., Shakespearian Comedy (London, Methuen & Co., 1938). Chydenius, Johan, The Typological Problem in Dante: A Study in the History of Medieval Ideas (Helsingfors, 1959). Coghill, Nevill, "The Basis of Shakespearian Comedy", in Essays and Studies 1950, ed. G. R. Hamilton, ΙΠ (New Series; London: John Murray, 1950), pp. 1-28. , "Comic Form in Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), pp. 14-28. Craig, Hardin, English Religious Drama of the Middle Ages (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1955). , An Interpretation of Shakespeare (New York, The Citadel Press, 1948). Danielou, Jean, From Shadows to Reality: Studies in the Biblical Typology of the Fathers. Translated by Dom Wulstan Hibberd (London, Burns & Oates, 1960). Deimling, Dr. Hermann, and Dr. Matthews (eds), The Chester Plays ("Early English Text Society," Extra Series, Vols. LXII and CXV) (London, Oxford University Press, 1959). Dodds, W. Μ. T., "The Character of Angelo in Measure for Measure", in Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, edited with an Introduction by Robert Ornstein (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1961), pp. 88-96. Doran, Madeleine, Endeavors of Art: A Study of Form in Elizabethan Drama (Madison, The University of Wisconsin Press, 1954). Dowden, Edward, Shakespeare: A Critical Study of His Mind and Art (New York, Harper & Brothers, 1875). , Shakspere (New York, D. Appleton and Co., 1889). Ellis-Fermor, Una, " 'Discord in the Spheres': The Universe of Troilus and Cressida", in Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, edited with an Introduction by Robert Ornstein (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co,. 1961), pp. 17-28. Farnham, Willard, ' T h e Medieval Comic Spirit in the English Renascence", in Joseph Quincy Adams Memorial Studies, ed. James G. McManaway, et al. (Brattleboro, E. J. Hildreth & Co., 1948), pp. 429-437.

240

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Farnham, Willard, The Medieval Heritage of Elizabethan Tragedy (Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1956). Fergusson, Francis, Dante's Drama of the Mind: A Modern Reading of the Purgatorio (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1953). Fluchere, Henri, Shakespeare. Translated by Guy Hamilton (London, Longmans and Green, 1953). Frye, Northrup, "The Argument of Comedy", in English Institute Essays: 1948, edited by D. A. Robertson, Jr. (New York, Columbia University Press, 1949), pp. 58-73. Furnivall, F. J., and Pollard, A. W. (eds), The Macro Plays ("Early English Text Society," Extra Series, Vol. XCI) (London, Oxford University Press, 1924 [1904]). Gerard, Albert, "Meaning and Structure in Troilus and Cressida", English Studies, XL (June, 1959), 144-157. Grandgent, C. H. (ed.), La Divina Commedia (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1913). Gregory of Nyssa, Select Writings and Letters of Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa. Translated with prolegomena, notes, and indices, by William Moore and H. A. Wilson ( = A Select Library of Nicene and PostNicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series, Vol. V) (New York, The Christian Literature Co., 1893). Hanson, R. P. C., Allegory and Event: A Study of the Sources and Significance of Origin's Interpretation of Scripture (Richmond, John Knox Press, 1959). Harding, Davis, "Elizabethan Betrothals and Measure for Measure", The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, XLIX (April, 1950), 139-158. Harrier, Richard C., "Troilus Divided", in Studies in the English Renaissance Drama, ed. J. W. Bennett, et al. (New York, New York University Press, 1959), pp. 142-156. Herbermann, C. G., et al. (eds.), The Catholic Encyclopedia: An International Work of Reference on the Constitution, Doctrine, Discipline, and History of the Catholic Church, Vol. XIII (New York, The Encyclopedia Press, Inc., 1913). Hillebrand, Η. Ν., and Baldwin, Τ. W. (eds.), A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Troilus and Cressida (Philadelphia, J. B. Lippincott Company, 1953). Hunter, G. K. (ed.), All's Well That Ends Well. "The Arden Edition of the Works of William Shakespeare" (London, Methuen & Co., 1962). Jonson, Ben, Ben Jonson. Edited by C. H. Herford and Percy Simpson, Vol. Ill (Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1927). Kernan, Alvin, The Cankered Muse: Satire of the English Renaissance (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1959). King, Walter N., "Shakespeare's 'Mingled Yarn' ", Modern Language Quarterly, XXI (March, 1960), 33-44. Knight, G. Wilson, The Wheel of Fire (London, Oxford University Press, 1930). Knowland, A. S., "Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Quarterly, X (Summer, 1959), 353-365.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

241

Krieger, Murray, "Measure for Measure and Elizabethan Comedy", Publications of the Modern Language Association, LXVI (September, 1951), 775-784. Lascelles, Mary, Shakespeare's Measure for Measure (London, The Athlone Press, 1953). Lawrence, W. W., Shakespeare's Problem Comedies. 2nd edition (New York, Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1960). Leavis, F. R., "The Greatness of Measure for Measure", Scrutiny, X (January, 1942), 234-247. Leech, Clifford, "The Meaning of Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 3 (1950), pp. 66-73. , "The Theme of Ambition in All's Well That Ends Well", A Journal of English Literary History, XXI (March, 1954), 17-29. Lewis, C. S., A Preface to Paradise Lost (London, Oxford University Press, 1954). Mack, Maynard, "The World of Hamlet', in Shakespeare: Modern Essays in Criticism, ed. Leonard F. Dean (New York, Oxford University Press, 1961), pp. 237-257. Morris, Brian, "The Tragic Structure of Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Quarterly, X (Autumn, 1959) 481-491. Morris, H. C., "Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Criticism of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies." Unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1957. Muir, Kenneth, "Troilus and Cressida", Shakespeare Survey, 8 (1955), pp. 28-39. Murry, J. M., Shakespeare (New York, Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1936). Nargarjan, S., "The Structure of All's Well That Ends Well", Essays in Criticism, X (January, 1960), 24-31. Nowottny, Winifred Μ. T., " 'Opinion' and 'Value' in Troilus and Cressida", Essays in Criticism, IV (July, 1954), 282-296. Owst, G. R., Literature and Pulpit in Medieval England (Cambridge, The University Press, 1933). Parker, M. D. H., The Slave of Life: A Study of Shakespeare and the Idea of Justice (London, Chatto and Windus, 1955). Parrott, Τ. M., and Ball, R. H., A Short View of Elizabethan Drama (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1943). Parrott, Τ. M., Shakespearean Comedy (New York, Oxford University Press, 1949). Philo Judaeus, Philo. Translated by F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker (= Loeb Classical Library, Vol. I) (London, William Heinemann, 1949). Pope, Elizabeth Marie, "The Renaissance Background of Measure for Measure", Shakespeare Survey, 2 (1949), pp. 66-82. Presson, Robert K., Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida and the Legends of Troy (Madison, University of Wisconsin Press, 1953). , "The Structural Use of a Traditional Theme in Troilus and Cressida", Philological Quarterly, XXXI (April, 1952), 180-188. Shakespeare, William, The Complete Works of Shakespeare. Edited by Hardin Craig (Chicago, Scott, Foresman and Co., 1951).

242

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Sidney, Philip, The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney. Edited by Albert Feuillerat, Vol. ΙΠ (Cambridge, At the University Press, 1923). Siegel, Paul N., Shakespearean Tragedy and the Elizabethan Compromise (New York, New York University, 1957). Singleton, Charles, "Dante's Allegory", Speculum, XXV (January, 1950), 78-86. Spencer, Hazleton, The Art and Life of William Shakespeare (New York, Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1940). Spencer, Theodore, Shakespeare and the Nature of Man (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1942). Stauffer, Donald, Shakespeare's World of Images: The Development of His Moral Ideas (New York, W. W. Norton & Co., 1949). Taylor, H. O., The Mediaeval Mind: A History of the Development of Thought and Emotion in the Middle Ages, Vol. Π (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1919). Thompson, Ε. N. S., The English Moral Plays (= Transactions of the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences, Vol. XTV) (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1910). Tilden, Frank W., Philo Judaeus, On the Contemplative Life (= Indiana University Studies, Vol. DC, No. 52) (Bloomington, 1922). Tillyard, E. M. W., The Elizabethan World Picture (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1944). , Shakespeare's Problem Plays. 3rd edition (London, Chatto Sc. Windus, 1957). Traversi, D. Α., An Approach to Shakespeare (Garden City, Doubleday and Co., 1955). , "Troilus and Cressida", in Discussions of Shakespeare's Problem Comedies, edited with an Introduction by Robert Ornstein (Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1961), pp. 8-16. Turner, Robert Y., "Dramatic Conventions in All's Well That Ends Weir, Publications of the Modern Language Association, LXXV (December, 1960), 497-502. Wilson, Harold S., "Dramatic Emphasis in All's Well That Ends WelF, Huntington Library Quarterly, ΧΙΠ (May, 1950), 217-240. Wilson, J. Dover, The Essential Shakespeare (Cambridge, University Press, 1933).