and that it was remodelled by him six years later. This hypothesis is probably founded upon the following entry in the Stationers' registers on the 19th of June, 1594: AL enterlude, entitled the Tragedy of Richard the Third, wherein is showen the deathe of Edward the Fourthe with the Smotheringe of the Twoo Princes in the Tower, with the lamentable end of Shore's wife, and the conjunction of the twoo Houses of Lancaster and York.' This piece, which Tieck very likely considered the first sketch of Shakspeare's play, has however nothing to do with our Richard III.' It is as has been proved by Barron Field's careful reprint of the old edition of 1594-an earlier work which in some respects resembles the later Moralities on historical subjects, and was probably written before 1586; but the subject has not even been made use of by Shakspeare. Still the old print does give us some assistance in determining the date of Shakspeare's 'Richard III.'; for it is probable that the appearance of the latter was the reason of the earlier piece being' warmed up again,' and made known by being printed for circulation, in the hope that the interest awakened by Shakspeare's play might be transferred to the other. This supposition, also, would assign‘Richard III.' to about the year 1593. Richard III.' was followed, about 1595, by Richard II.' and, as I have already observed, the latter piece was succeeded, down to 1599, by the two parts of 'Henry VI.' and Henry V.' · 6 * See The True Tragedy of Richard the Third, to which is appended the Latin Play of Richardus Tertius, etc., by B. Field. London: Pr. for the Shakespeare Soc. Compare also Collier's Shakespeare, v. 343 f.— Shakspeare doubtless did not know anything of the still older Latin play of Richardus Tertius by Dr. Legge, which existed in manuscript only, and has been reprinted by Field, p. 77 ff. CHAPTER XII. HENRY VIII. If we now turn to the conclusion, to the epilogue of the great dramatic cycle from English history, we shall find ourselves upon the same historical ground, it is true, but transferred across a period of about three decades, and entering upon an entirely new and essentially different period. The prayer of Henry VII. for peace-in the last act of • Richard III.'- -was answered. His long reign may be said to have healed the deep wounds which the Civil Wars and Richard's tyranny had inflicted upon the country. This, together with the fact that his reign also became to England a point of transition to the new political relations of Europe--which had become essentially changed since the sixteenth century-constitutes its historical significance. The reign of Henry VII., however, was not suited for dramatic representation because its very character was devoid of dramatic action. Its spirit and effect, accordingly, could be intimated only episodically, as is done at the close of Richard III.' Hence from an historical point of view the poet appears wholly justified in not having attached the last link of his dramatic cycle to the reign of Henry VII., and in having closed with the history and principal events of that of Henry VIII. This reign is the true end, because it is, at the same time, the beginning of a new historical period. The monarchical principle had gained considerably in strength, in consequence of the Civil Wars and of the administration of Henry VII., and was now approaching its culminating point. The nobles, the clergy, and the people have become accustomed to obey; the king's will is now almost unlimited. This the poet shows us in the fate of Buckingham, and also in some important scenes (for instance, in act v. 2, 3), which for this very reason are indispensable. The increase of the royal power manifests itself outwardly in excessive splendour and luxury, which the higher nobility are induced to emulate. Their old tendency to maintain an independent position, politically opposed to that of the sovereign, had changed into the endeavour to be outwardly worthy of standing by his side, and in rivalling him in wealth and magnificence. Accordingly, in the first introductory senes, we have a graphic description of the change in the character of the age. The church, after having attained the object which she so determinately expressed and vigorously pursued in the reign of King John, was now reaping the fruits of her perverse endeavours. Her internal, spiritual influence was broken-she could no longer carry out her pretensions openly, and could only hope to establish them by secret and circuitous paths, by intrigues, by double dealings and double speakings, in fact the royal power has eclipsed the ecclesiastical. The truth of this is most strikingly illustrated in the relation in which Cardinal Wolsey stands to the King and to the state. In other words the Middle Ages, with their knightly combats, their impetuous energy and the secluded, sharply defined form of all their social spheres, were fast approaching their extinction; life had become more inward, more intellectual. In the theological disputations ab ut Fenry's divorce, and in the reference to the time in which God shall be truly known,' we at all events have an intimation of the great religious revolution which was to establish the right of the free, unchecked development of the mind, by gradually dissolving the petrified mental culture of the Middle Ages which had become an empty form owing to the tyranny of the church. Hence, in this case again, in his representation of the general state of things, in his description of the character of the age, and in his conception of the peculiar tendencies and interests, as well as of the principal events in question, Shak speare has remained absolutely faithful to history, and has shown his usual skill in penetrating to its very core. But does he show us this core in the form which it assumes in history? In spite of the long defence of this ་ point by Gervinus, I feel I must abide by my nay. It may not have been Shakspeare's intention to give his great cycle of English histories a fitting conclusion; he may, as Gervinus* thinks, have meant his poem to be a monument to the House of Tudor and to its great Queen Elizabeth, inasmuch as it was under their rule that England first enjoyed the tranquillity which gave scope for mental culture, and Elizabeth's reign which brought about all that which first encouraged and developed Shakspeare's art and which established his celebrity.' It may only have been to mark the contrast between the Tudor dynasty and the houses of York and Lancaster, that Shakspeare placed Cranmer's prophetic speech at the close of Henry VIII.' as a parallel to that at the end of Richard III.' He may, accordingly, have given decided prominence to the fall of Buckingham as the last representative of the decaying nobility whom Henry VII. had systematically kept in check,' simply in order to 'recall the proceedings during the supremacy of the houses of York and Lancaster;' and, on the other hand, may have made Wolsey's fall the centre of the action and of the dramatic interest because his endeavours, had they attained their object, would have newly established the papal throne (which, in fact, was his reason for plotting the ruin of Queen Katherine) and have spread Roman Catholicism in England.' Lastly, it may have been for the same reason --even though not on account of merit' as opposed to precedence of birth,' of which history tells us nothing and of which we also hear nothing in the drama—that the poet gives prominence to the rise of persons of low birth, to Henry's condescending manner towards those inferior to him in rank, and to his (in reality, despotic) harshness towards those of high birth-who boasted of their descent and thwarted his desires. But if these were Shakspeare's intentions, this very glorification of the House of Tudor has led him to commit offences against historical truth in a way that he should * The remarks of Dr. Ulrici on the following points refer to opinions expressed by Gervinus in the first edition of his work on Shakspeare; in his subsequent editions Gervinus altered his views. [TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] not have done, because they are so many offences against poetical beauty and the laws of dramatic art. Shakspeare has, it is true, not spared Henry's character: he appears everywhere as the obstinate, capricious, selfish and heartless man that he was-a slave to his favourites and to his passions. That Shakspeare has not expressly described him as such, that he has rather characterised him tacitly through his own actions, and no doubt sedulously pushed his good points into the foreground, could not-without injustice-have been expected otherwise from a national poet who wrote in the reign of Henry's daughter, the universally honoured Elizabeth. Further, that he does not describe Anne Boleyn exactly as she was—she who, indeed, at first rejected Henry's advances, but afterwards lived with him in adultery for three years-is also excusable, seeing that she was Elizabeth's mother, and her doings had not in Shakspeare's time been ful y disclosed, at all events they were not publicly narrated in the Chronicles and popular histories. Some inaccuracies may be left out of consideration; for instance, that the opinions expressed by the most eminent theologians in regard to Henry's divorce were not in his favour, and that Thomas Cranmer was not quite the noble, amiable Christian character he is here represented. These are secondary circumstances which the poet was free to dispose of as he pleased. But one point, where he certainly is open to censure, is, that he has not given us a full and complete account of the lives of Henry and Anne, but simply a portion of their history; the representation therefore becomes untrue from an ideal point of view as well. Not only does this offend the justice which proceeds from human thought, but it likewise offends poetical justice. Moreover, it is opposed to the true and actual justice of history when a man like Henry-the slave to his selfish caprice, lusts and passions, the play-ball in the hands of such a favourite as the ambitious, revengeful, intriguing Wolsey-a man who condemns the Duke of Buckingham to death without cause or justice, and who for his own low, sensual desires repudiates his amiable, pious, and most noble consort, whose only fault is a pardonable pride |