And

comparatively but few alternate rhymes in 'Richard II.,' and these are characteristic of his earlier dramas. yet, in my opinion, the versification is a decided criterion, for compared with its almost uniform regularity in 'King John,' it is freer, more varied, more fluent and harmoniously blended with the subject of the conversations and their turns. The language also-which in 'King John has still a somewhat dry colour-is fuller, more high sounding, brilliant and richer in thoughts. I think, therefore, that the piece was not written earlier than 1595.

*

It has been concluded from the introduction of tho celebrated parliament-scene (iv. 1), which, as it seems, was a subsequent addition (at least, it is not met with in the two earlier quartos, and is expr ssly mentioned on the title-page of the third of 1608 as a 'new addition'), that Shakspeare may at a later date have remodelled the whole play. But a comparison of the different quartos proves that-as Clark and Wright observe-every subsequent edition is but a reprint of its predecessor, and that the text of the fourth quarto is founded upon that of the first folio. What may have induced Shakspeare to introduce this scene, cannot, of course, be determined, scarcely even conjectured, perhaps simply because he found it necessary for the sake of historical truth and the artistic finish of the play, perhaps because he wished to distinguish his Richard II.' from the politically different (as it seems anti-royalistic) tendency of another lost drama on the same subject. Of this lost drama we have some account in Dr. Forman's notes of the year 1611, and is probably the same 'Richard II.,' which, in 1601, the Earl of Essex and his insurrectionists had performed, in order to rouse the people against the Queen.

* Cambridge Edition of Shakspeare's Works, vol. iv. p. 8.

CHAPTER VII.

HENRY IV. FIRST AND SECOND PARTS.

RICHARD II.' is the first part of the great historical drama of five acts which closes with Richard III.'; it is self-evident that the wrong-doings of 'Richard II.' and their just punishment, can be no excuse for the wrong of Bolinbroke's rebellion. This is shown directly by the two following dramas which bear the name of Henry IV.'; they form the main point in the development of the great cyclic whole, the last link of which is Richard III., and therefore require to be the more fully and closely examined.

6

The usurped majesty of Henry IV. reminds us in the first place of John's borrowed majesty; but the relations in the present case are very different. John is opposed by a claimant to the throne, who is protected by the church, by France and by the English barons; the main stress is laid upon the disturbance, the weakness and the abuse of secular as well as of ecclesiastical power, which for this very reason are at conflict with one another and destroy the foundations of human society. Henry IV., on the other hand, has merely to struggle with some of the barons of his own kingdom; the latter are, it is true, supported by some of the bishops, not, however, as representatives of the church, but as dignitaries of the kingdom. Thus in the present case, as in 'Richard II.,' everything moves within the sphere of the state, and therefore the two parts of Henry IV.,' when regarded as one whole, are either but the continuation, or again but the contrast to 'Richard II.'

For certain as it is that the unkingly Richard was most justly deprived of his royal power, as certain is it that he could not and ought not to have been robbed of all right to the throne. The external, legal right was unquestionably his. The triumphant rebellion, ought

only to have limited Richard's power in so far as to make its abuse an impossibility or, at most, to have suspended his rule till he had become a wiser and better man, and thus combined within himself the outward and inward title. This was demanded by the true and inviolable law which is administered by history. Richard's actual dethronement, therefore, was an undeniable wrong; this Shakspeare has brought fully into view at the close of the drama. In the depth of his humiliation, and distracted by sorrow and repentance, Richard exhibits a nobility of soul and a greatness of mind far superior to that of Henry IV. In prison Richard builds himself an indestructible throne; in prison and in death he becomes a true king.

Notwithstanding this, he remains dethroned and is murdered at Henry's instigation, and the latter then ascends the throne burdened with the crime; open and secret wrong, breach of faith and violence, falsehood and deception were the means by which he obtained possession of the crown. Accordingly the conflict in question is not yet settled, the point at issue has rather only been reversed. Previously the external right was opposed to the internal right, now the internal right stands opposed to the external right. Henry IV. is inwardly well entitled to the English throne, owing to his cleverness, his thoughtfulness and moderation, his bravery and his energy; but outwardly his crown has not only been acquired by an act of violence, but it is disputed by other and nearer claims which cannot be suppressed by force. Nay, a new conflict is added to the old one. Henry's inward title is not complete or adequate. His mental abilities are indeed such as might have entitled him to rule, and he is perhaps the worthiest among the various members of the royal family; but inward justification must above all things possess that which first proves, sustains, and preserves the full title, i.e. the ethical foundation-moral sentiment, moral power and steadfastness-which cannot be either turned or bent, but irresistibly obeys the eternal laws of all existence. This element is wanting in Henry IV. He is not morally corrupt, not actually an immoral character; his moral justification would have

sufficed had the outward legal right been on his side But he has nothing to compensate for the want of the latter, for his morality is wholly devoid of that relation to the ideal substance of the moral law, to the highest, inviolable principles of all resolves and actions, by which alone the morality of the individual receives its value; his morality consists, in fact, but of those subordinate virtues which serve as conditions and means for practical cleverness, for the rational guidance of things and for the gratification of personal interests.

This double conflict into which justice-the living foundation of all political life--has fallen with itself, will not allow the kingdom, under Henry IV., to enjoy peace or to develop its powers freely. The disturbance of justice in the centre of the state is, at the same time, a disturbance to the whole organism. The body-politic itself is internally unsound; but the cure, the solution of the conflict, is, for the moment, an impossibility. For Henry cannot undo what has been done, cannot change the outward wrong into a right; and among his opponents there is none who can equal him in inward justification and ability, none strong enough to dispute the actual possession of the crown. Henry therefore remains king, but, in consequence of the incompleteness of his inward justification, and his entire want of all outward right, he cannot remain in undisturbed possession of the crown; insurrection and rebellion perpetually shake his throne. In constant danger of being overthrown, his reign rocks to and fro like a leaky ship on a stormy sea, between the right of possession and the wrong of usurpation. History, thus, as it were, tacks about in a state of internal restlessness, a continual coming and going, without being able to get into harbour. To describe this state of ferment, this restlessness, as the necessary consequence of the historical relations in their ultimate, ideal causes— both outwardly and inwardly-is the chief task of the historian of Henry IV. For the true historical significance of his reign evidently lies solely in this very unsteadiness, in this movement without a goal, in this striving and struggling without any actual result. It is not till the accession of Henry V. that the history of Englar' again

reaches a point of rest, even though it proves but a temporary one. Henry V. covers the defects of his outward right by the complete justification of his mental and moral qualities. He too, certainly, is unable to convert the wrong into a right—it rather remains standing, and, as Shakspeare subsequently shows, works in silence. till it has destroyed itself in the fall of the House of Lancaster-but Henry V. succeeds in making it harmless to his own person. The greatness of his mind, the nobility of his sentiments, the brilliancy of his deeds, eclipse the dark stains which after all he had but inherited.

In order to direct our attention to this point of rest, i. e. to the nearest end of the restless movement referred to above, the poet found it indispensable not only to introduce into his drama the character of the future Henry V., but to give this character a prominent position. The objection which some critics find in this, cannot hold good in face of the higher necessity of intimating the internal relation between the historical facts and the progress of history dependent upon them, and, at the same time, of connecting the separate parts of the dramatic cycle with one another. It is certainly an anachronism to hear, in 'Richard II.' of the wild doings of the Prince of Wales; the latter was not thirteen years old at the time. It is also true that the persor of the Prince is brought so much into the foreground in 'Henry IV.' that the unity, which arises by concentrating the interest in the chief figure, is disturbed; we do not know whether the father or the son is to be considered the hero of the play. But apart from the inner necessity of pointing out, in the drama, the goal towards which the course of events is tending, this very division of the personal interest belongs to the character of the times represented, to the character of the reign of Henry IV., nay, to the very character of King Henry himself. A person like him is incapable of drawing all interest upon himself; all his actions, his inmost being is divided in itself. He is one of those characters who can excite interest only by their close connection with other entirely different natures; it is only when contrasted with characters such as Richard II. or Henry Percy and his own son, who is so unlike himself, that his