OF THE CHARACTER OF SHAKESPEARE AS
RELATED TO THE CHARACTER OF THE AUTHOR OF THE SONNETS
The Sonnets certainly reveal their
author in an attitude of appeal, more or less open
and direct, for the love or favor of his friend.
No fervor of compliment or protestation of affection
allows him to forget or conceal this purpose.
When, as is indicated by Sonnets LXXVII. to XC., he
feared that his friend was transferring his favor or
patronage to another poet, his anxiety became acute,
and in that group he compared not only his poetry,
but his flattery and commendation with that of his
rival. In Sonnets XXXII. to XXXVII., portraying
his grief at his friend’s unkindness, he hastens
to forgive; and, as already stated, in Sonnets XL.
to XLIII. and CXXVII. to CLII., chiding his friend
for having accepted the love of his mistress, he crowns
him with poetic garlands of compliment and adulation.
Smitten on one cheek, not only does he turn the other,
but he bestows kisses and caresses on the hand that
gave the blow.
All we know of the character of Shakespeare
indicates that he was neither meek and complacent,
nor quick and eager in forgiving; but that his character
in those aspects was quite the reverse of the character
of the author of the Sonnets.
Mr. Lee states the effect or result
of the various traditions as to Shakespeare’s
poaching experiences, and his resentment of the treatment
he had received, as follows:
’And his [Shakespeare’s]
sporting experiences passed at times beyond orthodox
limits. A poaching adventure, according to a
credible tradition, was the immediate
cause of his long severance from his native place.
“He had,” wrote Rowe in 1709, “by
a misfortune common enough to young fellows, fallen
into ill company, and among them, some, that
made a frequent practice of deer-stealing, engaged
him with them more than once in robbing a park
that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote near
Stratford. For this he was prosecuted by
that gentleman, as he thought, somewhat too
severely; and, in order to revenge that
ill-usage, he made a ballad upon him, and though
this, probably the first essay of his poetry,
be lost, yet it is said to have been so very
bitter that it redoubled the prosecution against
him to that degree that he was obliged to leave
his business and family in Warwickshire and shelter
himself in London.” The independent
testimony of Archdeacon Davies, who was vicar of Saperton,
Gloucestershire, late in the seventeenth century, is
to the effect that Shakespeare “was much
given to all unluckiness in stealing venison
and rabbits, particularly from Sir Thomas Lucy, who
had him oft whipt, and sometimes imprisoned, and at
last made him fly his native county to his great
advancement.” The law of Shakespeare’s
day (5 Eliz., ca punished deer-stealers with
three months’ imprisonment and the payment
of thrice the amount of the damage done.
The tradition has been challenged on
the ground that the Charlecote deer-park was
of later date than the sixteenth century.
But Sir Thomas Lucy was an extensive game-preserver,
and owned at Charlecote a warren in which a few
harts or does doubtless found an occasional
home. Samuel Ireland was informed in 1794
that Shakespeare stole the deer, not from Charlecote,
but from Fulbroke Park, a few miles off, and
Ireland supplied in his Views on the Warwickshire
Avon, 1795, an engraving of an old farmhouse
in the hamlet of Fulbroke, where he asserted that
Shakespeare was temporarily imprisoned after his
arrest. An adjoining hovel was locally known
for some years as Shakespeare’s “deer-barn,”
but no portion of Fulbroke Park, which included the
site of these buildings (now removed), was Lucy’s
property in Elizabeth’s reign, and the
amended legend, which was solemnly confided to
Sir Walter Scott in 1828 by the owner of Charlecote,
seems pure invention.
The ballad which Shakespeare is reported
to have fastened on the park gates of Charlecote,
does not, as Rowe acknowledged, survive.
No authenticity can be allowed the worthless lines
beginning, “A parliament member, a justice
of peace,” which were represented to be
Shakespeare’s on the authority of an old man
who lived near Stratford and died in 1703.
But such an incident as the tradition reveals
has left a distinct impress on Shakespearean
drama. Justice Shallow is beyond doubt a reminiscence
of the owner of Charlecote. According to Archdeacon
Davies of Saperton, Shakespeare’s “revenge
was so great” that he caricatured Lucy
as “Justice Clodpate,” who was (Davies
adds) represented on the stage as “a great man”
and as bearing, in allusion to Lucy’s name,
“three louses rampant for his arms.”
Justice Shallow, Davies’s “Justice Clodpate,”
came to birth in the Second Part of Henry
IV. (1598), and he is represented in the
opening scene of the Merry Wives of Windsor
as having come from Gloucestershire to Windsor
to make a Star-Chamber matter of a poaching raid
on his estate. The “three luces hauriant
argent” were the arms borne by the Charlecote
Lucys, and the dramatist’s prolonged reference
in this scene to the “dozen white luces”
on Justice Shallow’s “old coat” fully
establishes Shallow’s identity with Lucy.
The poaching episode
is best assigned to 1585, but it may be
questioned whether Shakespeare,
on fleeing from Lucy’s
persecution, at once
sought an asylum in London.’
Halliwell gives the following traditions
of Shakespeare’s sharp encounters or exchanges
of wit:
Mr. Ben Jonson and Mr. Wm. Shakespeare
being merry at a tavern, Mr. Jonson having begun this
for his epitaph,
Here lies Ben Jonson, that was once one,
he gives it to Mr. Shakespeare to
make up, who presently writes,
Who while he lived was a slow thing
And now being dead is nothing.
Another version is:
Here lies Jonson,
Who was one’s son
He had a little hair on his chin,
His name was Benjamin!
an amusing allusion to his personal
appearance, as any one may see who will turn to Ben’s
portrait.
Jonson. If but stage actors all
the world displays
Where shall we find spectators of their
plays?
Shakespeare. Little or much of
what we see we do; We are all both actors and spectators
too. Ten in the hundred lies here ingrav’d;
’Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not saved;
If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb? Oh!
oh! quoth the devil, ’tis my John-a-Combe.
Who lies in this tomb? Hough, quoth the devil,
’tis my son, John-Combe.
The tradition is that the subject
of the last six lines having died,
Shakespeare then composed an epitaph as follows:
Howe’er he lived, judge not,
John Combe shall never be forgot,
While poor hath memory, for he did gather
To make the poor his issue; he their father,
As record of his tilth and seed,
Did crown him, in his latter need.
This is said to have been composed
of a brother of John-a-Combe:
Thin in beard, and thick in purse,
Never man beloved worse,
He went to the grave with many a curse,
The devil and he had both one nurse.
A blacksmith is said to have accosted
Shakespeare with,
Now, Mr. Shakespeare, tell me, if you
can,
The difference between a youth and a young
man?
To which the poet immediately replied,
Thou son of fire, with thy face like a
maple,
The same difference as between a scalded
and a coddled apple.
An old tradition reports that being
awakened after a prolonged carouse, and asked to renew
the contest, he refused, saying, I have drunk with
Piping Pebworth, Dancing Marston,
Haunted Hillborough, and Hungry Grafton
With Dadging Exhall, Papist Wixford
Beggarly Broom, and Drunken Bidford.
The lines inscribed on the slab above
his grave, preventing the removal of his bones, according
to the custom of that time, to the adjacent charnel-house,
are as follows:
Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare
To dig the dust enclosed heare;
Bleste be the man that spare these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.
Mr. Lee gives a statement as to Shakespeare’s
propensity to litigation as follows:
’As early as 1598 Abraham Sturley
had suggested that Shakespeare should purchase
the tithes of Stratford. Seven years later, on
July 24, 1605, he bought for L440 of Ralph Huband
an unexpired term of thirty-one years of a ninety-two
years’ lease of a moiety of the tithes
of Stratford, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Welcombe.
The moiety was subject to a rent of L17 to the Corporation,
who were the reversionary owners on the lease’s
expiration, and of L5 to John Barker, the heir
of a former proprietor. The investment brought
Shakespeare, under the most favorable circumstances,
no more than an annuity of L38; and the refusal
of persons who claimed an interest in the other moiety
to acknowledge the full extent of their liability
to the Corporation led that body to demand from
the poet payments justly due from others.
After 1609 he joined with two interested persons, Richard
Lane of Awston, and Thomas Greene, the town clerk
of Stratford, in a suit in Chancery to determine
the exact responsibilities of all the tithe-owners,
and in 1612 they presented a bill of complaint
to Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, with what result is
unknown. His acquisition of a part ownership
in the tithes was fruitful in legal embarrassments.
Shakespeare inherited his father’s
love of litigation, and stood rigorously by his
rights in all his business relations. In March,
1600, he recovered in London a debt of L7 from one
John Clayton. In July, 1604, in the local
court at Stratford, he sued one Philip Rogers,
to whom he had supplied since the preceding March
malt to the value of L1 19d., and had on June
25th lent 2s. in cash. Rogers paid back
6s., and Shakespeare sought the balance of
the account, L1 15d. During 1608 and
1609 he was at law with another fellow-townsman, John
Addenbroke. On February 15, 1609, Shakespeare,
who was apparently represented by his solicitor
and kinsman, Thomas Greene, obtained judgment
from a jury against Addenbroke for the payment of L6
and L1 5s. costs, but Addenbroke left the town,
and the triumph proved barren. Shakespeare
avenged himself by proceeding against one Thomas
Horneby, who had acted as the absconding debtor’s
bail.’
The same author gives the following
statement as to his reputation for sportive adventure:
’Hamlet, Othello, and Lear were
roles in which he [Burbage] gained especial
renown. But Burbage and Shakespeare were popularly
credited with co-operation in less solemn enterprises.
They were reputed to be companions in many sportive
adventures. The sole anecdote of Shakespeare
that is positively known to have been recorded
in his lifetime relates that Burbage, when playing
Richard III., agreed with a lady in the audience
to visit her after the performance; Shakespeare,
overhearing the conversation, anticipated the
actor’s visit and met Burbage on his arrival
with the quip that “William the Conqueror
was before Richard the Third.”
Such gossip possibly deserves little
more acceptance than the later story, in the
same key, which credits Shakespeare with the paternity
of Sir William D’Avenant. The latter was
baptized at Oxford, on March 3, 1605, as the
son of John D’Avenant, the landlord of
the Crown Inn, where Shakespeare lodged in his journeys
to and from Stratford. The story of Shakespeare’s
parental relation to D’Avenant was long
current in Oxford, and was at times complacently
accepted by the reputed son. Shakespeare
is known to have been a welcome guest at John D’Avenant’s
house, and another son, Robert, boasted of the kindly
notice which the poet took of him as a child.
It is safer to adopt the less compromising version
which makes Shakespeare the godfather of the
boy William instead of his father. But the antiquity
and persistence of the scandal belie the assumption
that Shakespeare was known to his contemporaries
as a man of scrupulous virtue.’
All the extracts I have here quoted
are from writers who admit no question as to the authorship
of the Shakespearean plays. And there is nothing
which they or any biography or tradition bring to us
which presents any act or characteristic at all at
variance with the indications of these quotations.
And it is very remarkable how strong is the concurrence
of indications, from the slab above his grave, from
old, musty, and otherwise forgotten records of court
proceedings, and from traditions, whether from the
hamlet of his birth or the city where he wrought and
succeeded.
I have not quoted the lines which
have been variously handed down as those which the
young Shakespeare affixed to the gate of the wealthy
and powerful Sir Thomas Lucy. Their authenticity
is doubtful. But that the boy Shakespeare, weak
and helpless for such a struggle, resented his treatment
and answered back with the only weapon he had, risking
and enduring being driven from his home and birthplace,
and kept good the grudge in the days of his success,
I think cannot be doubted. The records of court
proceedings, the imprecation above his grave, both
indicate a man of strong will and not unaccustomed
to mastery. We may reject one or another of the
retorts or sallies in verse, but we must, I think,
agree, that the fact that they are brought to us by
recorded and very old traditions, indicates a character
or repute in accordance with their implication; and
especially must this be so, when we find that they
agree with the indications of other evidence not in
any degree in question. These various indications
support each other like the bundle of sticks which
together could not be broken. From them I think
we learn that Shakespeare, however pleasant or attractive
at times, was not a man yielding or complacent to
opposition or injury; but that he was a man of fighting
blood or instincts, quick in wit and repartee, apt
and inclined for aggressive sally, ready to slash
and lay about him in all encounters, in
short, a very Mercutio in temperament, and in the
lively and constant challenges of his life.
I submit that the records we have
of the life of William Shakespeare concur in indicating
a man who could not have written the Sonnets under
the circumstances and with the motives which they reveal.
It should not be overlooked that at
the time these Sonnets were written, certainly as
early as 1597 or 1598, Shakespeare was above pecuniary
want, and had begun to make investments, and apparently
regarded himself and was regarded as a wealthy man.