chief incidents of the action, but the main emphasis of which lies, nevertheless, in its legal form, in the Summum jus summa injuria.

Objection has been raised against this drama, inasmuch as it has been supposed that the scene in court, with its tragic seriousness, is inappropriate with the cheerful colouring of the whole; that the treatment of the Jew, especially his being compelled to become a Christian, is offensive to the feelings, and disturbing to the state of mind into which the play has thrown us-that, therefore, it remains a matter of doubt as to which species of drama this play ought to belong. But Shakspeare, as I think, has clearly enough intimated that he does not in any way consider Shylock a tragic character. Shylock's conduct, in general, makes rather a decidedly comic impression, and particularly in the scene of the outburst of his sorrow and rage at the elopement of his daughter and the loss of his ducats, which alternates in the sharpest contrast with his diabolical expressions of joy at the losses experienced by Antonio. His very behaviour in the trial scene has somewhat the flavour of comedy, because his whole being, his appearance, his manner of expressing himself in word and gesture, are obviously described intentionally in such a way as always to verge upon caricature. And if the punish

ment which overtakes him is, nevertheless, offensive to our finer feelings, we must bear in mind that the scene of the play is laid in the sixteenth century, and that Shylock forfeits our pity owing to his inhuman, almost devilish wickedness and hardness of heart, and has lost all claim to humane treatment. Moreover, owing to the desultory, irregular manner in which the sentence is pronounced, we feel that it is doubtful whether all the points will be strictly adhered to.

That Shakspeare himself intended the piece to be regarded as a comedy is attested, not only by its being included among his comedies by Heminge and Condell (in the first part of the folio edition), but especially by the fifth act in the play itself, which follows directly upon the trial scene. This last act has been considered a superfluous appendage hobbling in, in a spiritless manner, after all the interest has evaporated. But those who judge

the scene in this way have not understood the poet's intention. This act-in form and substance-is, in fact, absolutely necessary for the external and internal roundingoff of the whole. It not only entirely effaces any tragic impressions that may have been left by the fourth act, but all dissonances, all harsh discords are resolved into the purest harmony. The gay, graceful dalliance of happy and genuine love puts an end to the sharp contrasts between right and wrong, between appearance and reality, between the spirit and the letter; they neutralise each other because they cannot exist in face of truth and love, which are the true anchorage of human life. As previously the tragic sorrow-which is a part of Antonio's fate-was everywhere described in the softest colours, and the bitterness appeared clothed in the form of that peaceful, gentle, submissive sadness, into which Antonio's melancholy resolves itself (which clearly enough gives us a glimmer of the happy issue), so the last act most distinctly gives the piece its comic stamp, and playfully puts a mask over its serious character. We cannot but admire the artistic skill of the poet who, while apparently violating the rules of his art, and thus in danger of being accused by the multitude of failure of effect, nevertheless pursued his object so steadily and consistently, and attained it so surely.

Equally untenable is the accusation that the clown of the piece, Launcelot Gobbo, with his silly jokes, is inappropriate with the spirit and meaning of the whole, and that he stands opposed to the tragic seriousness which forms a part of the main action, or that, to say the least, he is a superfluous character. But he is neither the one nor the other. The clown is here, not only in his right place, but necessary, in so far as in most of Shakspeare's comedies he is the comic representative of the fundamental idea itself; he exhibits it in his own person, and it is, so to say, concentrated in his apparently personal doings and actions, and hence he represents it directly in the most vivid manner possible; he parodies it, at the same time, and thus shows that the whole piece is based upon the comic view of life. Look but a little more closely at the delightful humour in which he balances the right and wrong in regard to the question as to whether he ought or ought not to run o

from his master, Shylock the Jew, perpetually quizzing the question itself (ii. 2); and again when he plays the judge over Jessica and Lorenzo (iii. 5). It is only in these two scenes that he is in some measure brought forward, and accordingly, it is only from them that his significance for the whole can be judged; he has not scope enough to exhibit the further development of this significance of his character, or of his own individuality. But as far as the organism of the work of art would admit, Shakspeare has employed him to set forth the main substance of the fundamental thought.

Moreover The Merchant of Venice' must have been written before 1598, as it is mentioned by Meres. Hence it belongs to the first decade of Shakspeare's artistic labours, and has, most probably, to be assigned to the year 1597; this is also the opinion of Chalmers and Drake, and with them of Tieck and others. Malone, who places it in 1598, without giving any reason, does not appear to have considered that if it had been written in that year it could not well have been mentioned by Meres. The oldest print, in two different quartos, belongs to the year 1600. It is astonishing what progress Shakspeare had made in these few years, when we compare this play with the 'Tw> Gentlemen of Verona,' or with The Comedy of Errors.'

·

CHAPTER VII.

THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

I CLASS these two pieces together, and remove them out of the ideal connection into which I have attempted to arrange Shakspeare's other comedies, because, it seems to me, that as regards character they are entirely different from the others. For instance, they are the only comedies in which Shakspeare has made use of satire, and therefore, in my opinion, they must be looked upon as satirical dramas. The idea of the comic does, it is true, itself contain the satirical element, and in so far comedy is always satirical as well, but satirical in the wider and more general sense. It is objective satire that makes itself felt in comedy, inasmuch as comedy ridicules itself as the representation of human weaknesses and perversities, and makes human life in general ludicrous as a world of contradictions and absurdities. Such general, objective satire, however, is not satire in its narrower and actual meaning. This, in all cases, can be met with only where ridicule attaches itself to the personal tendency of the poet, not to the thing itself. Now a drama cannot exhibit the subjective tendency in a direct manner, for the drama is that very form of poetical art which wholly excludes the poet's personal intervention. (The poet can at most-as in the parabasis of the Aristophanic comedy--place himself between the play and the spectator in the form of some assumed personality, a proceeding which will increase the satirical tendency, but at the cost of the dramatic form.) Hence satire, in accordance with the nature of dramatic art, must always assert itself only indirectly; the tendency of the poet must not shine forth from the background of the representation except as from beneath a veil, or must be so intimately connected with the subject that it appears to belong to it. The more subtly, therefore, the satirical element is con

VOL. II.

K

cealed, and the more that which-owing to its definite subjective tendency-is always inartistic and exists rarely without a disagreeable flavour, disappears behind the general significance of the representation, the finer and more poetically perfect is the satire. And in this respect we shall again have to admire the masterly skill with which Shakspeare has contrived so ingeniously to veil his satire, that we only have the reflex, not the direct exhibition of it.

1. THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

The very cause which gave rise to the composition of 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' intimates at once that this play is different in character from the poet's other works. As far as we know, it is the only one of Shakspeare's dramas that does not owe its origin to the free inclination of his poetic genius, but, to an outward instigation. According to an indeed unauthenticated report,* Queen Elizabeth is said to have expressed the wish to see the doughty Sir John Falstaff whom she had learned to know and esteem in 'Henry IV.'-represented in love. Shakspeare is said to have thereupon written the piece in a fortnight, which in my opinion is as little unlikely as the above wish of the Queen.† This supposition would, on the one hand, explain the different character of the drama, and the hasty and sketchy appearance which it exhibits, notwithstanding the re

* See vol. i. 219.

†The tradition, although from a late source, gains considerably in probability, if the old quarto of 1602 (republished by Halliwell in his already mentioned First Sketch of Shakspeare's Merry Wives of Windsor) be somewhat more closely examined, and compared with the reprint of the piece in the tolio edition. In all probability the quarto is one of those piratical editions,' to which so many old quartos belong. But its deviations from the text of the folio, are throughout so important and yet generally so Shakspearian in character, that—as Halliwell and Knight justly maintain-they cannot be explained as mere oversights and misunderstandings, omission and alterations of the copyist. Probably, therefore, the quarto edition is founded upon the piece in its original form, a shorter and more carelessly finished work, which Shakspeare had written as a hurried sketch; whereas the text of the folio gives a later remodelling, which, however, would not have entirely done away with the original character of haste and carelessness.