Shakespeare’s Double-Dealing Comedies : Deciphering the “Problem Plays” [1 ed.] 9781443818056, 9781443816366

Citation preview

Shakespeare’s Double-Dealing Comedies: Deciphering the “Problem Plays”

Shakespeare’s Double-Dealing Comedies: Deciphering the “Problem Plays”

By

Myron Stagman

Shakespeare’s Double-Dealing Comedies: Deciphering the “Problem Plays”, by Myron Stagman This book first published 2010 Cambridge Scholars Publishing 12 Back Chapman Street, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2XX, UK

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Copyright © 2010 by Myron Stagman All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-1636-1, ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-1636-6

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction............................................................................ 1 I. Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama................................... 3 A Few Examples of Shakespearean Parody........................ 3 General Marks of Parody .................................................... 4 A Few More Examples of Shakespearean Parody .............. 5 Shakespeare Self-Parody and Subversive Sexual Quibbles... 6 Shakespearean Satire........................................................... 7 Jacobean ‘Tragedy’ ............................................................. 7 a) The Malcontent ............................................................... 8 b) The Revenger’s Tragedy ............................................... 12 c) The Athiest’s Tragedy ................................................... 18 d) The White Devil............................................................. 26 e) Bussy D’Ambois ............................................................ 28 Conclusion to Jacobean Tragedy....................................... 30 II.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona ................................... 31

III.

All’s Well That Ends Well........................................... 37

IV. Measure for Measure ................................................... 73

vi

V.

Table of Contents

Cymbeline ..................................................................... 97

VII. Henry V....................................................................... 109 VIII. The Tempest............................................................... 119 IX. The Two Noble Kinsmen ............................................ 161 Conclusion........................................................................... 167 Bibliography ....................................................................... 169 Index.................................................................................... 175

 

INTRODUCTION

It has been my experience with William Shakespeare that, when there is sharp criticism, Shakespeare proves right and critics prove wrong. We have failed to appreciate one aspect of his vast Achievement—ironic comedy. Here we have a shortfall, and Shakespeare’s DoubleDealing Comedies intends to demonstrate the playwright’s simply splendid sense of tongue-in-cheek humor, thus correcting the somber and censorious reactions to his zestful parody (satire in the case of “problem play” All’s Well That Ends Well). We have been missing so much fun. Let’s have a go at the so-called “problems” to see beneath the surface in order to fathom Shakespeare’s covert comic meanings.

I.

PARODY AND MOCK-SOBRIETY DRAMA

A Few Examples of Shakespearean Parody Shakespeare often composed parody so close to the line of sober romance and drama that they have exasperated critics, leaving them to mutter about “problem plays”. Moreover, to be frank about it, critics have never been particularly savvy when it came to refined ironic humor, even an otherwise sharp fellow like George Bernard Shaw. Take, for instance, what should be an obvious piece of comic irony: In The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Valentine's gift of his ladylove (a Valentine’s gift) to false friend and ready-rapist Proteus. There's nothing overly elusive about irony of this kind (a parody of ideal male friendship themes in literature, particularly that of Titus and Gisippus), yet it has been repeatedly ridiculed, having been taken ever so earnestly. The parody which pervades Cymbeline, in contrast, is subtle, requiring close scrutiny (and a good knowledge of Othello). Two of Shakespeare’s finest comedies, All’s Well That Ends Well and Measure for Measure, are often enough deemed two of his worst. The critics blame Shakespeare, but a little understanding—plus a sense of humor—would shift the blame to censorious critics. An entire field of English Literature, miraculous to say, has been created thanks to a failure to comprehend light-hearted comic irony. We call it “Jacobean Tragedy”. There does exist such a thing as Jacobean Tragedy (e.g. John Webster’s The

4

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

Duchess of Malfi), but much of what glides under that name is parody. “Grim tragedies”, often depicting “corrupt Italy”, have been written by first class authors—William Chapman, Robert Middleton, John Webster, Cyril Tourneur, John Marston, and (if he did but change the final passages and kill someone off) William Shakespeare. Yet these murderous “tragedies" happen to be hilarious comedies, replete with mock-tragic speeches, mock-heroism, mock-evil, and mock-virtue where storybook heroines à la Cinderella utter obscene remarks right to our faces while we commiserate and commend their virtue under such trying circumstances. The real tragedy is that these clever playwrights do not reincarnate today to read our literary criticism. They could then return to their eternal homes, and laugh forever.

General Marks of Parody This type of humor can be confused with artlessness, melodrama, oddity, strange authorial values, over-enthusiasm, or serious drama. In the latter case, the more sensitive reader may feel a mite uncomfortable or suspicious now and then, but the irony can nonetheless slip by. Rule number 1: If a good writer seems surprisingly inept and has been known to be a wit or humorist, suspect parody. “Artlessness” can assume various forms: excess and exaggeration, incongruity, extravagance, melodrama, flamboyance, all-too conventional themes, irksome unreality, apparent imitation of someone or something you recognize, anything which implies that this fine writer ought to know better.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

5

A Few More Examples of Shakespearean Parody In Henry V, Young kisses the wounds of his dead friend and delivers a flowery oration with his dying gasps. Shakespeare meant such gruesome sentimentality no more gravely than he intended The Comedy of Errors. In The Two Noble Kinsmen, Shakespeare adopted a similar macabre-comic motif when his suppliant women describe the corpses of their dearly departed. When in I Henry VI he has Talbot terrorize a French army by throwing stones at it, one must interpret parody. How could he have written that seriously?! In Cymbeline, Shakespeare uses a deus ex machina, a classical artifice just begging for a comic twist. Read the speeches of Jupiter and the ghosts with a wary eye. Not an earnest thing is involved there. The Duke at the conclusion of the Measure for Measure “problem-play” acts in rather the capacity of a deus ex machina, does he not? He dictates marriages that resolve everything and nothing. The Measure for Measure finale cannot be taken at face value, and—as we shall see—the same can be said for the entire play. George Bernard Shaw blockishly panned Cymbeline’s finale, which spins out one recognition after another. Indeed, there are over 20 of them, and the whole scene thereby registers quaint parodying fun—nothing sober about it. (One must add that Posthumus’ slapping of Imogen who is disguised as a page, a seemingly pointless act, was designed to mimic Othello's slapping of Desdemona.) Big buildup and then deflation is an ironic comedy technique employed by the playful Mr. Shakespeare. For but one example, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona. The knight Eglamour, an exemplar of chivalry devoted to the memory of

6

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

his deceased love, escorts Silvia through the woods. One glimpse of the bandits and he leaves her high-and-dry. The cavalier Eglamour may still be running. Mock-heroic, mockchivalric. Not "odd”. It likewise delighted Shakespeare to parody other writers. Henry V features mock-Marlowe. The Falstaff death-scene of Henry V parodies the death of Socrates in the Phaedo. The Two Noble Kinsmen caricatures Chaucer's Knight's Tale. Speaking of that greatly underrated play, The Two Noble Kinsmen, most anyone who has read Hamlet ought to at least suspect that the Jailor’s Daughter is a comic caricature of Ophelia. An outstanding feature of Shakespearean comedy involves ironic comic imitation of the entire tradition of romance narrative conventions, of which the Valentine-gift / Eglamour jests are samples. The Tempest and Cymbeline together hit virtually all of these targets. What they do not hit, Measure for Measure and All's Well That End's Well do. In this jovial onslaught targeting romance literature, Shakespeare affords us much mirth that has gone unappreciated. Once we have distinguished between Appearance and Reality, the “problems” end and Shakespeare receives his due.

Shakespearean Self-Parody and Subversive Sexual Quibbles We should remark two special characteristics of Shakespeare’s ironic comedy. First, Shakespeare spoofs Shakespeare, mocking his own plays. The Tempest does this wholesale to Macbeth, and contains humorous allusions to

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

7

Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, and The Comedy of Errors. Cymbeline does a grand job on Othello, and The Two Noble Kinsmen mimics Hamlet. Bottom and the mechanicals obviously parody Romeo and Juliet. So, when Shakespeare cunningly alludes to Shakespeare, this signals danger to nonironical, solemn interpretations of the play at hand. Sexual quibbles (puns, play-on-words) covertly uttered by precious-and-pure heroines call for an immediate revision of viewpoint. We see this pre-eminently proven in Measure for Measure, Cymbeline, and The Tempest.

Shakespearean Satire The previous sentence portends the fall of three heroines. They drop from parody. Shakespeare loaded All’s Well That Ends Well with as much irony as the above comedies, but this comedy is dark satire, meant to bite—a smashingly ironic work.

Jacobean "Tragedy" In all likelihood inspired by Shakespeare, the genre receives such notices as “obsessions” with “death and sexual passion”, “death and physical decay”, “hatred”, "corruption”, “murder” and “insanity”, “lust”, “adultery” and “sexual sin”. Jacobean revenge tragedy is “the tragedy of blood”. The Revenger's Tragedy, emblem of the sardonic, salacious species, has a “dark savagery” which, "from the very first lines” plunges us into a wicked world of “uncontrolled selfseeking passion”. The Revenger's Tragedy envisions “a world of almost unrelieved bestiality” whose aim is to "frighten the sinner with a perpetual reminder of mortality”. Come with me as we cautiously, quietly approach the curtain, slowly drawing it back for a glimpse of "the tragedy

8

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

of blood”. Follow me, and be careful not to step in the red ooze. Follow me, and remember we enter a den of inconceivable wickedness and corruption, so hold on to your morals.

a. The Malcontent (John Marston, c. 1603) A touchstone of a Jacobean author's intent, whether grim and grave or clandestinely comic, is the incidence of sexual quibbling when the dialogue on the surface expresses dramatic, even deadly, purpose. Let us quote from Marston’s excellent mock-tragic comedy. The protagonist Malevole and the villain Mendoza engage in the kind of bantering, extravagant (and covert sex) talk— meant to be humorous, not sinister—which never stops in the play. (Distinguish continuous humor from comic interludes during serious drama.) (“Egistus”= Greek mythology’s Aegisthus, paramour of Clytemnestra who murdered her husband, King Agamemnon.): Malevole. Mendoza, hark ye, hark ye. You are a treacherous villain, God bwy ye. Mendoza. Out, you base-born rascal. Malevole. We are all the sons of heaven, though a tripe-wife were our mother; ah, you whoreson hot-rein’d he-marmoset — Egistus, didst ever hear of one Egistus?

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

9

Mendoza. Gistus? Malevole. Ay, Egistus, he was a filthy incontinent fleshmonger, such a one as thou art. Mendoza. Out, grumbling rogue. Malevole. Orestes, beware Orestes. Mendoza. Out, beggar. Malevole. I once shall rise. Mendoza. Thou rise? Malevole. Ay, at the resurrection. “No vulgar seed but once may rise, and shall, No king so huge, but 'fore he die may fall.” I.5.19 [In English Renaissance comedy jargon, “die” means to have a sexual orgasm. ‘Tis very important to remember this pun.] New Testamenting an erection and ejaculation is not a true sign of genuine tragedy or a philosophical analysis of moral issues.

10

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

At the end of Act II, Malevole proffers a series of rhymed couplets in iambic pentameter on the subject of illicit sex. By the late 1590s, the better English dramatists understood that rhymes, when contrasted with enveloping blank verse or prose, could offer a fine instrument for irony. This type of couplet is ideal for taking the serious sting out of a discourse on the “brutish sting”: Stick candles ‘gainst a virgin wall's white back, If they not burn, yet at the least they'll black. I have yet to read lines like that in a sober work, and since The Malcontent at no point desists from such talk, this is no exception to the rule. [Pietro takes his wife Aurelia to dance.] Aurelia. Wouldst then be miserable? Pietro. I need not wish. Aurelia. O. yet forbear my hand. away. Fly, Fly, [fly? A double meaning in those days too?] O seek not her, that only seeks to die. Pietro. Poor loved soul. Aurelia. What, wouldst court misery?

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

11

Pietro. Yes. Aurelia. She'll come too soon: O my griev'd heart! meaning for too – as well as “come”] V.4.115

[a double

We quote part of Pietro’s speech in Actus quarta, scena tertia, a symptom of what Marston has assayed in this comedy, and so successfully. Extravagant language to convey common thought, together with the evident mimicking of Hamlet, has "parody" clearly stamped on it. [Horatio, in the First Act of Hamlet: But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.] Pietro. Now had the mounting sun's all-ripening wings Swept the cold sweat of night from earth's dank breast ... The difference between “dew” and “cold sweat” represents the distance between what Marston appeared to be doing and what Marston in fact did. In sum, The Malcontent does not present a "moral position" or “righteous indignation”. It most assuredly “has affinities with the old morality tradition”, but as a burlesque of it. A critic opines: “... much deliberate moralizing, which tends to become stiff and contentious; and a comparison between Malevole's meditations on lust (II.v.141ff) with Leantio's (Women Beware Women III.i.95ff) shows the comparative limitations of Marston's dramatic technique.” On the contrary, this comment shows the limitations of the critic. Marston did just fine.

12

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

b. The Revenger's Tragedy Originally believed to have been written by Cyril Tourneur and now usually attributed to Thomas Middleton, written about 1605, The Revenger’s Tragedy is mock-revenge tragedy at its ultimate. Mock-Morality play, mock-Italianesque, and mock-Hamlet, it was written around the time of Ben Jonson's Volpone (1605-6). Comedy in the same setting as Volpone but uproarious parody rather than satire, Revenger's shares the blatant name-symbolism of Jonson's play. The latter gives us “Volpone” (fox), “Mosca” (fly), “corvine” and “corbaccio” (raven and crow). Middleton serves up “Vindice” (vengeance), “Lussurioso” (lechery), “Castiza” (chastity), “Spurio”, “Ambitioso:,” and the enchanting “Supervacuo”. From the dramatis personae one might already suspect The Revenger’s Tragedy to be comedy. Middleton, after all, was not a medieval allegorist. Lussurioso has lines reeking with grave Italianate corruption, such as: I am past my depth in lust And I must swim or drown. I.3.90 That was a forerunner of the hardcore to come. In Act III, sc. 1, Vindice delivers a soliloquy in blank verse, so depraved and past most anyone's depth in sexual innuendo, that I am reluctant to quote it for fear I shall offend. And shall not, to your relief.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

13

Mock-Hamlet 1. In Act II, sc. 3 we have the splendid farce of the Duke's son, Lussurioso, bursting into the Duchess' bedchamber with drawn sword. (He thinks his bastard brother is in bed with his mother, but he need not bother, for she is in bed with his father.) Gaze upon this ‘tragic’ dialogue (but first, Hamlet for comparison in the Claudius-at-prayer scene: Hamlet. Now might I do it pat, now ‘a is a-praying. . . . 'A took my father grossly, full of bread, With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May. And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? Am I reveng'd to take him in the purging of his soul, When he is fit and season’d for his passage? No. Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid bent. When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage; Or in th’ incestuous pleasure of his bed ... no relish of salvation in’t ... [Also recall Gertrude's role in Shakespeare's play.] Lussurioso [bursting into the bedroom, à la Hamlet’s fantasy, with drawn sword]. Villain, strumpet— Duke. You upper guard defend us— Duchess. Treason, treason. Duke. —Oh take me not in sleep,

14

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

I have great sins, I must have days, Nay months, dear son, with penitential heaves, To lift 'em out, and not to die unclear. O thou wilt kill me both in heaven and here. Lussurioso. I am amaz’d to death. Duke. Nay villain, traitor, Worse than the foulest epithet, now I’ll gripe thee E’en with the nerves of wrath, and throw thy head Among the lawyers. Guard! [Among the lawyers!! What a great line.] Enter Nobles and Sons. Duke. This boy that should be myself after me, Would be myself before me, and in heat Of that ambition bloodily rusht in Intending to depose me in my bed. 2 Noble. Duty and natural loyalty forfend! [A line like this is what we call "camp”.] Duchess. He call'd his father villain; and me strumpet, A word that I abhor to file my lips with. [ab-whore!] Ambitioso. That was not so well done, brother. II.3.26

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

15

Much more mock-Hamlet can be uncovered in Middleton’s spoof: 2. Enter Vindice, with the skull of his love drest up in Tires [head-dress, including mask]. This scene (III.5) takes off on Hamlet-and-the-skull in the Graveyard-scene, features Vindice's “famous address to the skull” and co-stars “the bony lady” (“Sh'as somewhat a grave look with her.”) (118, 134) Vindice poisons the lips of the skull for the Duke to kiss. (Hamlet holds the skull of Yorick, jester of his boyhood. “Here hung those lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft.”) Another terribly tragic line, grim and reeking with death and corruption: Vindice. See ladies, with false forms / You deceive men, but cannot deceive worms. (97) 3. Gertrude’s Closet-scene with Hamlet (Gertrude: “What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me?”): Enter Vindice and Hippolito, bringing out their Mother [Gratiana], one by one shoulder, and the other by the other, with daggers in their hands. [She's up on a morals charge: pandering off their sister, her daughter Castiza, Chastity.] Gratiana. What means my sons? what, will you murder me?

4. Lussurioso. ‘Twixt my stepmother and the Bastard, oh, incestuous sweets...

IV.1.22

16

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

[Hamlet: “O, most wicked speed, to post with such dexterity to incestuous sheets . . .”] 5. Polonius (the slick minister who was buried, in Claudius’ words, “in hugger-mugger”): Vindice. Show him the body of the Duke his father, and how quaintly he died, like a politician in hugger-mugger. V.1.16 6. Is the following not Hamlet’s “The time is out of joint.”? Lussurioso. Farewell to all, He that climbs highest has the greatest fall. My tongue is out of office. V.3.78 Middleton knew his Hamlet, and other Shakespearean tragedies. Do you recognize this one?: Vindice. Wet will make iron blush and change to red: Brother it rains, ‘twill spoil your dagger, house it. Try, Othello. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. I.2.59 Or, Lussurioso's “Talk to me my Lords, Of sepulchers, and mighty emperors’ bones.” (V.2. 140)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

17

Richard II: “Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.” 7. Enough for the spoofing given Shakespeare. Mock-moral indignation-and-divine-justice: Vindice (Aside). Has not heaven an ear? Is all the lightning wasted? ..... Is there no thunder left, or is’t kept up In stock for heavier vengeance? (Thunder) There it goes! IV.2.153, 193 8. Mock-Morality play ends the Fourth Act (note the rhyme): Gratiana. O happy child! faith and thy birth hath sav'd me; ‘Mongst thousand daughters happiest of all others, Be thou a glass for maids, and I for mothers. The mother acting as bawd to her virtuous daughter: perhaps also an allusion to Polonius as a “fishmonger”, i.e. pandering his daughter Ophelia. 9. The mock-tragic, indeed mock-poetic-justice finale finds Vindice unnecessarily admit to murder, his beneficiary Antonio condemning him to execution. The ensuing 27 lines which end the so-called tragedy are in tell-tale rhyme, including “he, me”, “brass, ass”, “slipp'd, clipp’d,”, “true, adieux” and “season, treason”.

18

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

The Revenger’s Tragedy is an outstanding comedy. Rarely (ever?) performed today, I strongly recommend that it be made into comic opera. It already is comic opera but lacks the music and critics' comprehension. Set it to music, and bill it as comic opera. The average modern audience, given such warning, will understand the sexual quibbling (such as Vindice’s “box-and-cuff” soliloquy), and some of them can explain the innuendo to the literary critics in their midst.

c. The Atheist’s Tragedy (Cyril Tourneur, 1608) Uncomprehendingly called “inferior” and, by T. S. Eliot, disparaged as “more regular verse, more conventional moralizing, more conventional scenes”, this play puts in a lower key and on a more elevated plane what The Revenger’s Tragedy rollicked and frolicked in. The Atheist’s Tragedy is sophisticated, often delicate and always delightful in its lighthearted knavery. Cyril Tourneur has given us high camp, camp of the highest order. Its characters as unrealistic as its language is extravagant and ethereally ridiculous, Atheist’s achieves its effects through the Italianata of mock-Neo-Platonism and—here it is again—mock-Hamlet. The comedy begins with a parody of Neo-Platonism, shows us plenty of Hamlet and Gertrude, then ends with mock-Spanish Tragedy and a rousing clown’s joke. Well done, Cyril. Neo-Platonism with a hint of unPlatonic love: D’Amville, the Villain. Then if death casts up

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

19

Our total sum of joy and happiness, Let me have all my senses feasted in Th’abundant fullness of delight at once, And with a sweet insensible increase Of pleasing surfeit melt into my dust. Borachio. That revolution is too short me thinks. If this life comprehends our happiness, How foolish to desire to die so soon! [Remember that “die”, “death”, in a comic context, can mean a sexual climax.] And if our time runs home unto the length Of Nature, how improvident it were To spend our substance on a minute’s pleasure, And after live an age in misery! [Surely the last line refers to syphilis.] I.1.30 Something similar, but more “substance” than in the opener, and as unctuous a piece of metaphysical sleaze as you will read: Charlemont [the hero to the heroine, Castabella]: Within this habit which thy misinform’d Conceit takes only for a shape, live both The soul and body of thy Charlemont. Castabella. I feel a substance, warm, and soft, and moist subject to the capacity of sense. III.1.83

20

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

If that seems “regular” and “conventional” and “moralizing”, well . . . Neo-Platonist slapstick. (Tourneur plays on the metaphysical dichotomy of “spirit” and the “senses”, “body” and “soul” throughout the comedy): Charlemont had been reported dead. Enter Charlemont. Sebastian. What art thou? Speak. Charlemont. The spirit of Charlemont. Sebastian. The spirit of Charlemont? I’ll try that. (Strike, and the blow return’d.) ‘Fore God thou sayest true, th’art all spirit. III.2.25 Charlemont is a forbearing hero who eschews revenge to let nature take its just course. Given the abundant Hamletian parody in the play, one might suppose that this basic attribute of the protagonist takes off on Hamlet’s procrastination. The following Neo-Platonist camp speech by Charlemont involves the revenger’s non-vengeance: Charlemont. No Sir. I have a heart above the reach Of thy most violent maliciousness; A fortitude in scorn of thy contempt Since Fate is pleas’d to have me suffer it; That can bear more than thou hast power t’inflict.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

21

I was a baron. That thy father has Depriv’d me of. Instead of that, I am Created king. I’ve lost a signory, That was confin’d within a piece of earth; A wart upon the body of the world. But now I am an emp’ror of a world, This little world of man. [Is this not Hamlet’s “confines, wards, and dungeons … I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite space.” ? Certainly appears so.] My passions are My subjects; and I can command them laugh, Whilst thou dost tickle ‘em to death with misery. More Mock-Hamlet:

Enter the Ghost of Montferrers.

Montferrers [Charlemont sleeps and the Ghost speaks to him]. Return to France; for thy old father’s dead; And thou by murther disinherited. [the Hamlet storyline] Attend with patience the success of things; But leave revenge unto the King of kings. [Exit. (Ghost of Hamlet pere, to Hamlet: “Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive / Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven.”)

22

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

Charlemont (starts and wakes). O my affrighted soul! (Hamlet, to the Ghost’s revelation of murder. “O my prophetic soul!”) Charlemont waxes anti-feminine à la Hamlet upon hearing that Castabella has married while he was gone: Marry’d! Had not my mother been a woman, I should protest against the chastity Of all thy sex. How can the merchant, Or the mariner, absent whole years Promise themselves to find their sheets Unspotted with adultery, at their Return, when you that never had the sense Of actual temptation, could not stay A few short months? III.1.106 (Hamlet: “And yet, within a month … a little month …”) The Atheist’s Tragedy has a graveyard scene with the melancholic, meditative hero (Hamletian): D’Amville. Sad melancholy has drawn Charlemont, With meditation on his father’s death, Into the solitary walk behind the church. Borachio [D’Amville’s henchman; his name implies “drunkard”]. The churchyard? This the fittest place for death. Perhaps he’s praying. Then he’s fit to die, We’ll send him charitably to his grave.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

23

IV.2.17 That pointed to the Claudius-at-prayer scene. Charlemont has a graveyard meditation: “This grave— Perhaps th’inhabitant was in his lifetime the possessor of his own desires…. [as Hamlet on the inhabitants therein] To be lower than a worm is to be higher than king!” Charlemont and Borachio fight in the Churchyard. Borachio falls and Charlemont has an interesting soliloquy which seems a rather witty commentary on Hamlet’s inner conflict, suicide talk, and self-recriminations: What? Have I kill’d him? Whatsoe’er thou beest I would thy hand had prosper’d. For I was Unfit to live, and well prepar’d to die. What shall I do? Accuse myself. Submit Me to the law, and that will quickly end This violent increase of misery. But ‘tis a murther to be accessory To mine own death. I will not. I will take This opportunity to ‘scape. It may be Heav’n reserves me to some better end. IV.3.32 Then comes the camp scene in the charnel house where the Villain tries to rape the Heroine amidst the skulls and bones, but the damsel-in-distress is saved in the nick-of-time by the Hero: Charlemont. Now Lady! with the hand of Charlemont, I thus redeem you from the arm of lust, — My Castabella!

24

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

Castabella. My dear Charlemont! The distracted Villain finally has the opportunity to speak one of Hamlet’s lines: I could now commit A murder, were it but to drink the fresh Warm blood of him I murder’d. (233) (Hamlet: “ ‘Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood.”) We have slighted the Villain and must give him a few more lines: D’Amville (to a Servant’s, “He’s dead.”): Dead be your tongue. Drop out mine eye-balls, and let envious fortune play at tennis with ‘em.” [What a line!] II.4.27 This charnel house affair probably takes off on the Romeo and Juliet charnel house scene. [Finale] We proceed to the furious finale which takes place in a Court of Law, Charlemont accused of murder. The hero (addressing the villain), “to show with what light respect I value death and thy insulting pride”, Leaps up the scaffold. Castabella leaps after him.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

25

Spared hanging, they are taken to execution by decapitation, the executioner to be the villain D’Amville himself. The hero and heroine together in their best camp style: Charlemont. Let him crow my resolution, with An unexampled dignity of death. Strike home. Thus I submit me. (Ready for execution. Castabella. [with a rhyming couplet]. So do I. In scorn of death thus hand in hand we die. D’Amville. I ha’ the trick on’t, Nephew. You shall see How eas’ly I can put you out of pain.— Ooh. (As he raises up the axe, strikes out his own brains. Staggers off the scaffold.) A clown’s joke. “Brained”, he staggers away to deliver a speech of 20 lines, concluding with this mock-morality couplet: The lust of death commits a rape upon Me as I would ha’ done on Castabella. (Dies.

26

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

d. The White Devil (John Webster, 1611) Those Jacobean dramatists could write genuine tragedy and mock-tragedy with equal brilliance. John Webster has achieved renown for The Duchess of Malfi, a gripping and horribly beautiful play in the true tragic genre. The White Devil may rank with it, but as a travesty of tragedy. A very good one. The parody, which ends in farce, presents a mock-tragic spoof of adultery, intrigue and murder Italiana. Webster's comedy offers an uninterrupted round of jests, lewd puns, and comic banter. Even the last word of the prefatory “To the Reader” ends in the Latin word “mori”, die—to repeat, in Renaissance English comedy, a sexual pun referring to an orgasm. Vittoria's trial for adultery and murder is a masterpiece. The Cardinal (who becomes Pope) orates on the celestial subject, “What's a whore?”—a burlesque of Falstaff’s Honour-speech. Vittoria defends herself against the adultery charge via sexual puns alluding to male and female genitals. Webster wrote another scene (IV.2) which imitates Shakespeare's sexual-intercourse (“bedroom”-scene) tour de farce in Measure for Measure. [See chapter dealing with this play.] The picture perfumed with poison recalls The Revenger’s Tragedy’s poisoned-skull parody of Hamlet. The Fifth Act offers a splendid takeoff on Hamlet’s poisonmotif and Hamlet’s ways-to-kill-him, send-his-soul-to-hell soliloquy in the Claudius-at-prayer scene. Lodovico contemplates the deaths he would relish inflicting on

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

27

Brachiano, especially the idea of poisoning the handle of his tennis racket: T'have poison’d his praier booke, or a paire of beades, The pummel of his saddle, his looking-glasse, Or th'handle of his racket—O, that, that! That while he had bin bandying at tennis He might have sworne himselfe to hell, and stroke His soule into the hazard! V.1.72 “Stroke his soul into the hazard!”—that’s awfully good! Webster also joshingly combines Hamlet's “in his rage ... at game, a-swearing, or about some act that has no relish of salvation in't,” with Polonius’ remarks in his instructions to Reynaldo. He here parodies first Polonius, then Hamlet: Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, There was a gaming; there o’ertook in’s rouse; There falling out of tennis ...” II.1.59 The “falling out at tennis” alludes humorously to the notorious Thomas Nashe (the writer)-Gabriel Harvey (the scholar) feud which began on a tennis court. The farcical finale embraces a mock-suicide, Lucian satire, and the resuscitation of the “dead” only to be strangled by his startled but improvising enemies. If a “white devil” signifies people who are not what they seem, who might be the white devil of the play? Answer: John Webster.

28

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

e. Bussy D’Ambois (George Chapman, c. 1604) It befits the translator of Homer to write mock-heroic comedy. The mock-heroism begins with Bussy, an unemployed nobody, playing Achilles-moping-in-his-tent. It ends with Bussy propping himself up on his sword and expiring with the camp anthem, I will stand till death hath made me marble. In between such parody, we have the protagonist, who is little more than a mouth, related to Hercules and Hector. Adding mock-courtly love to mock-heroism, Bussy flamboyantly insists on seducing another man's wife. The King's brother, Monsieur, flamboyantly comments on the hero's determination: Monsieur (aside). His great heart will not down, 'tis like the sea That partly by his own internal heat, Partly the stars’ daily and nightly motion, Ardour and light, and partly of the place The divers frames, and chiefly by the Moon, Bristled with surges, never will be won (No, not when th’hearts of all those powers are burst) To make retreat into his settled home, [prepare now, dear reader, for one of the best lines in comic literature] Till he be crown’d with his own quiet foam. I.2.183

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

29

Bussy's mock-courtliness includes addressing the ladies with phrases "prick-song" and “leap year”. (A brothel was a “leaping-house”.) Bussy backs up his noble enterprises with (mock-) heroic lines such as, “We shall meet where your heart’s buffoonly laughters will cost ye the best blood in your bodies.” (I.2.240) Chapman, who knew enough epic to realize it did not apply to a jobless Frenchman of the contemporary era, embellishes even Homer's heroism with mock-combat description in impeccable Homeresque: Storm-like he fell, and hid the fear-cold Earth. II.1.101 Chapman loaded the play with classical references which he applied to trivial events and trivial people. Listen to this bombastiloquent messenger: What Atlas, or Olympus lifts his head So far past covert, that with air enough My words may be inform'd? II.1.27 One passage like that from any character, least of all a messenger, should inform anyone past covert what Chapman was doing in this play. A critic comments, “It is obvious that one familiar moral theme is being presented in the play, the opposition of humble virtue to corrupt ambition.” Yes indeed, such as Monsieur’s philosophizing on the vagaries of political life: For there is no such trap to catch an upstart

30

Parody and Mock-Sobriety Drama

As a loose downfall; and indeed their falls Are th' ends of all men’s rising: if great men And wise make ‘scapes to please advantage ‘Tis with a woman: women that worst may Still hold men's candles. III.2.156 This type of sexual subterfuge also appears in the guise of character analysis: “A man may go a whole voyage with her, and get nothing but tempests at her windpipe.” And: “Here's one, I think, has swallowed a porcupine, she casts pricks from her mouth.” [certainly no emphasis required here] When you see undercover pornography reiterated unendingly throughout the text, please do not classify under “tragedy”. Chapman does a shimmering imitation of Falstaff: Monsieur [to Tamyra, Countess of Montsurry]. Honour, what's that? your second maidenhead: And what is that? a word: the word is gone, The thing remains. II.2.62 The thing that remains is not genuine tragedy.

Conclusion to Jacobean “Tragedy” This subtle, brilliant comic genre seems to have passed from Shakespearean parody to Jacobean mock-tragedy. Well done! All of you. And now, let us proceed to the plays of the Pioneer and Master—Shakespeare.

II.

THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA

Literary Criticism This play has presented “puzzles”, “inconsistencies and peculiarities” to critics. These problems include the so-called “two Eglamours”, more than one peculiarity about the Outlaws, and of course, first and foremost, Valentine’s “absurd” gift of his lady Silvia to his friend Proteus, her aspiring rapist. Some commentators have speculated upon a possible collaborator, “serious misrepresentations” in the First Folio text, or the play having been written in two phases.

Parody Oddities become familiar friends as soon as one reads the play as Parody. For The Two Gentlemen of Verona begins Shakespeare’s long romance with mock-romantic comedy. It will be followed by other mock-romances, either as parody (the norm) or satire, notably Measure for Measure, All’s Well That Ends Well, Cymbeline, The Tempest, and The Two Noble Kinsmen, not to forget a notorious segment of Henry V. The Two Gentlemen of Verona parodies Friendship (Valentine-Proteus taking off on Titus and Gisippus of Elyot’s story), parodies Love (including the Hero and Leander story related in Marlowe’s recent poem), joshes with Chivalry

32

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

(Eglamour), and even lights into Robin Hood and his Merry Men (the Outlaws). Read as a takeoff on these subjects, 2GV defies this general literary opinion: “The Two Gentlemen of Verona has the unenviable distinction of being the least loved and least regarded of Shakespeare’s comedies.” Call it “least” if you like, but still very good. Friendship Proteus’ treachery comes with perfect timing, mirthfully mocking Valentine’s encomiastic address to the Duke hyperbolizing his friend to him in expansive figures and euphuistic antitheses: Valentine. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy We have convers’d and spent our hours together; And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that’s his name [which connotes Protean changeability], Made use and fair advantage of his days: His years but young, but his experience old; His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe; And, in a word, for far behind his worth Comes all the praises that I now bestow, He is complete in feature and in mind, With all good grace to grace a gentleman. II.4.70

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

33

Extravagant inflation as a prelude to pin-popping deflation is an old trick of parodying humor. Valentine’s “overgenerous offer” to his treacherous, would-be rapist friend in the Fifth Act: Proteus. My shame and guilt confounds me. Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow Be a sufficient ransom for offence, I tender ‘t here; I do as truly suffer As e’er I did commit. Valentine. Then I am paid; And once again I do receive thee honest. Who by repentance is not satisfied Is nor of heaven nor of earth, for these are pleas’d; By penitence th’ Eternal’s wrath’s appeas’d. And, that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine in Silvia I give thee. V.4.83 He does it as if she were chattel property, and in rhyme. Thus does Shakespeare parody Love. Thus, more centrally to this comedy, does he mock the ideal-male-friendship motif of literary convention, in particular and very specifically that “right goodly example of friendship” between Titus and Gisippus narrated in Sir Thomas Elyot’s book, The Governour. In that tale, the lady belongs to Gisippus, Cupid darts his ideal friend Titus, who languishes. Gisippus pries out the

34

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

cause of his sorrow and, after Titus’ revelation, Gisippus responds, Gentill frende Titus, dismay you nat at the chaunce of love, but receive it joyously with me, that am with you nothinge discontented, but mervailous gladde, sense it is my happe to finde for you suche a lady, with whome ye shall lyve in felicitie, and receive frute to the honour and comfort of all your linage. Here I renounce to you clerely all my title and interest that I nowe have or mought have in that faire mayden. (Book 2, ch.12) In Elyot’s story, Titus does nothing but suffer and sorrow. Shakespeare subtracts the grief from his symbolically named protean character, and adds deceitful scheming and attempted rape. Then when Valentine makes his grand offer, it comes as parodying humor—and a right goodly example thereof. Such humor fares felicitous, and must not be degraded by resort to the moralities game. To cap off the jest, who other than “Valentine”—presenting a Valentine’s gift—should wax so munificent with a crumby pal, for is not Valentine the patron saint of lovers? Eglamour Critics ask, Why are there two Eglamours? What does happen to the second Eglamour? How can the chivalrous knight abruptly abandon Silvia when they meet the outlaws in the forest?

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

35

That rare knight, who parodies the knightly hero of the ante-1400 romance Eglamour, who has been built up in Act IV, scene 3 as Silvia. Sir Eglamour, thou art a gentleman … Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish’d, (3) who is devoted to his deceased lover, commences Act V with the following preamble to Silvia’s appearance (he is to escort the damsel on her perilous journey): Eglamour. The sun begins to gild the western sky, And now it is about the very hour That Silvia at Friar Patrick’s cell should meet me. She will not fail, for lovers break not hours Unless it be to come before their time, So much they spur their expedition. The parfait gentle knight just said something lewd under cover of romance, another edge cutting at the Love-theme. Next thing you know, Galahad deserts the damsel-indistress at the first sign of trouble. An astonished outlaw comments on how fleet afoot he was, outrunning all of them. Maybe he’s still sprinting! There is only one Eglamour in The Two Gentlemen of Verona, but Shakespeare makes more than one parodying jest with regard to him.

36

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Concluding Note The Valentine gift was a jolly good jest. The play has suffered critically because the joke, and the whole pattern of such nice joshing, has gone over critics’ heads. The Two Gentlemen merits better press, and will receive it once Shakespearean mock-drama has been recognized and appreciated. This comedy essentially represents the beginning of Shakespeare’s career of parody. 2GV is not as subtle a comic mockery as later plays, and little wonder that Measure for Measure and All’s Well That Ends Well (and portions of The Tempest, Cymbeline, and Henry V) have occasioned some of the worst comments in the Shakespearean canon—worse, because they offer even better and subtler ironic comedy than The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

III.

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

All’s Well That Ends Well is a bonded “problem play”, meaning that it has caused serious interpretational problems for critics. It has been called “a stepchild among Shakespeare’s plays”, and “eminent readers . . . have rarely spoken well” of it. The “ambiguous tone of the finale” and the creation of “discords” and “new irresolutions” have been cited.

Satire The solution to any and all problems in this marvelously clever work rather depends upon one’s understanding that All’s Well That Ends Well is a satire. That key unlocks the door to its cynical and daring delights. Approximately one year after having written Troilus and Cressida, Shakespeare took the same fundamental themes and said essentially the same things but in an entirely different way. All’s Well has the darkish script of Troilus and Cressida, substituting for Homeric mythology the subtle, ironic use of folk-tale elements. Troilus and Cressida says outright its view of Honor in Love and War. All’s Well demands a little reaching, and then one grasps identical messages. When readers, eminent or otherwise, treat this play as a Morality, they necessarily come away puzzled and

38

All’s Well That Ends Well

dissatisfied. Moreover, if one fails to look keenly at each individual character and makes a snap judgment, the Morality trap will close. A dire mistake consists in setting up any character as a standard. Do it with Helena, Lafeu, the Countess or the King, and distortion arises. Conversely, condemn Bertram and Parolles wholesale, and a similar distortion occurs. Shakespeare raises the ‘virtuous’ to be whittled down, and lowers the ‘despicable’ to be lifted up. Morality-play stereotypes are the author’s foils.

Dramatis Personae A few brief comments introducing the characters will suffice for the moment. The King of France. Notice the subtle sexual innuendo of his nostalgic talk, ostensibly brimming with wisdom. The playwright enjoys cutting his persons of ‘high ethical bearing’ in this way. Revealingly, the Boccaccio source (Decameron, ninth story of the third day) for the King shows an opposite sympathy. Cured by Giletta, daughter of a rich physician (Helena, to the contrary, is poor), the thankful King nevertheless feels averse to deliver Beltramo over to his admirer. That smacks of realism, from which Shakespeare’s version deliberately deviates. Bertram. On the one hand, is Parolles in fact his misleader, as unanimous opinion in the play has it? On the other hand, is Bertram truly “dismissed to happiness” at the end? Lafeu. The old lord’s name, “Lafeu”, implies a double entendre in the French language. In the Third Act, and again

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

39

in the Fourth, Shakespeare will play on its literal meaning, fire. Speaking of Parolles, 2 Lord says in Act III, “He was first smok’d by the old Lord Lafeu.” (III.6.107) Perhaps punning has come into disrepute largely because we lack the facility with language possessed by those Renaissance people. That was a rather dandy bilingual pun Shakespeare handed his bit player. However, for almost any Englishman (or practically anyone not natively French-speaking), the name will sound closer to “Lafou” (la-foo) than to the unpronounceable French “eu”. The meaning of “fou” is crazy, or foolish. Both fire and crazy/foolish apply to Lafeu, for he is fiery and something of a fantastik, and, as such, one must be cautious in equating the caustic old curmudgeon with a wise old counselor. Parolles. His name signifies “words”, implying big and empty ones. Because he has been “found out”, found to be a “coward”, that does not, of its own, determine him a dishonest or base person. Indeed, why not prepare a case for Parolles as an honorable and decent fellow derided and victimized by many people all of whom are his moral inferiors. Finally, is Parolles really a coward? The Countess of Rousillon. Beware the Greeks bearing gifts. Beware an aristocratic mother who forces her only son to marry beneath him. Beware a matronly standard of judgment who paraphrases Polonius. Helena. More than once is she called “Helen” in the play, and the clown, Lavaches, quickly picks this up to sing of Helen of Troy. Shakespeare does more than hint that Helena is Helen of Troy, related to his unflattering (cynical worthless jade) Helen of Troilus and Cressida. The mystery of this All’s

40

All’s Well That Ends Well

Well problem-play mainly concerns a correct judgment on this character, Helena, the heroine of the piece. If you think Bertram misprized Helena, consider Shakespeare’s view of her prototype. The English dramatist cared not a lot for Paris’ prize. [Question: In what city does the King of France award Bertram as prize to Helen? Paris.] Diana, daughter to the Widow. The unassailable virtue of Diana counts for much in the plot. Her name symbolizes chastity, the classical Diana being the goddess of chastity. Is she all that her name implies? Where do Diana and her mother live? What does the Widow for a living?

Running Commentary Act I, scene 1 Lafeu. Your Commendations, madam, get from her [Helena] tears. Countess. ‘Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; go to, no more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have— Helena. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. Lafeu. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead: Excessive grief the enemy to the living. (60)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

41

If you think to have heard something like this before, you have—Act I, scene 2 of Hamlet. Here Helena affects both a sorrow and a Hamlet. Now comes the Countess Polonius: Countess [speaking to Bertram-Laertes]: Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend Under thy own life’s key; be check’d for silence, But never tax’d for speech. What heaven more will, That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down, Fall on thy head! Farewell. (74) “Fall on thy head!” that recalls Arcite’s parodied fate in Chaucer’s “Knight’s Tale” (see chapter, “The Two Noble Kinsmen”). And first the Countess does Gertrude, then Polonius. Shakespeare undermines a character when he does that, shaking the pedestal upon which the Countess’ judgment rests. All save Helena exit, and Parolles enters. Helena (aside) calls him “a notorious liar … fool … coward.” Yet the supposedly virtuous and exemplary storybook heroine proceeds to banter with him on the subject of “virginity”. She uses the nice term “die a virgin” (the quibble “die” = have a sexual orgasm) and the choicer “blow up men” (140, 128). Even the gaudy Helen of Troilus and Cressida was nowhere so coarse as this romance heroine. When the King recommends her to his nobles in the Second Act, he says,

42

All’s Well That Ends Well

Virtue and she is her own dower. II.3.145 Does that fairy-tale moral genuinely apply to “Cinderella”?

this

After more cheeky repartee with Parolles, and after his exit, Helena closes the scene with a 15-line soliloquy. It ends, 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. “Disease” and “deceive” seem to connote calculation in an unsavory way. That closes out the soliloquy, and the following initiated it: Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven. Hamlet did not say that. The unscrupulous and scheming (like Helena) Edmund of King Lear might have, by inverting his great speech which begins, This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behavior, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars. (I.2.121) Was Shakespeare thinking along the same lines in these two plays? (King Lear would soon follow All’s Well.]

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

Act I, scene 2.

43

The King speaks with faint erotic intimation:

King [to Bertram about his deceased father whom the King knew]: He lasted long; But on us both did haggish age steal on, And wore us out of act. It much repairs me To talk of your good father. In his youth He had the wit which I can well observe To-day in our young lords; but they may jest Till their own scorn return to them unnoted Ere they can hide their levity in honour. So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, His equal had awak’d them; and his honour. Clock to itself, knew the true minute when Exception bid him speak, and at this time His tongue obey’d his hand. Who were below him He us’d as creatures of another place; And bow’d his eminent top to their low ranks, In their poor praise he humbled. Very subtle sexual insinuation. And the King continues in this style to expose his own problem: ‘Let me not live’— This his good melancholy oft began, On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, When it was out—‘Let me not live’ quoth he ‘After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff Of younger spirits whose apprehensive senses All but new things disdain; whose judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies Expire before their fashions’. This he wish’d.

44

All’s Well That Ends Well

I, after him, do after him wish too, Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, I quickly were dissolved from my hive, To give some labourers room. (67) This preoccupation (i.e. impotence, that’s his “malignancy”, hardly a terminal one as we are led to believe) measures the sagacity of the King. He will coerce Bertram into a rude marriage, then damn him, and finally come close to imprisoning and killing him. The King asks Bertram, King. How long is’t, Count, Since the physician at your father’s died? [Helena’s father] Bertram. Some six months since, my lord. (71) What did Helena say in the previous scene about her father?: Helena (solo). I think not on my father; And these great tears grace his remembrance more Than those I shed for him. What was he like? I have forgot him; my imagination Carries no favour in’t but Bertram’s. (85) After six months. Better than Gertrude, to whom the author alludes, but not the kind of everlastingly filial sentiment

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

45

attributed to her by the Countess, or what we expect from a romance figure. Furthermore, wedged between the Edmundian opening of her first scene soliloquy and her final reference to “the King’s disease”, we hear the words “mounts my love” and “feed mine eye” (206-7). Her earlier bawdiness with Parolles, and now “mounts”, “feed” and “disease”, conjoins with forgetting her father. We have an evocation of Hamlet’s Gertrude—and the Troilus and Cressida thematic pattern: “love” amounts to lust, feeding, and disease. More of this will appear in the text. So far, so bad for Love, one of the two principal subjects of All’s Well (and of its thematic prototype, Troilus and Cressida). As for War, the King starts off the second scene by saying, “The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears.” No epic combat or chivalrous encounter here. If “Honor” will be won, it need be sought in this dogfight. The King continues, For our gentlemen that mean to see The Tuscan service, freely have they leave To stand on either part. The ethical issues of the conflict stand in dubious battle. Scene 3.

The Palace at Rousillon.

The Countess asks the Clown why he would marry: Clown. My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. (I.3.29)

46

All’s Well That Ends Well

Lavaches divulges his motivation openly and honestly. This comments revealingly on the King’s innuendo and on the nature of Helena’s love and moral character. Countess. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean. “Helen”, not “Helena”, and Shakespeare stresses the point with “I mean”, so we do not miss it. Clown (Sings). ‘Was this fair face the cause’ quoth she Why the Grecians sacked Troy? He relates Helena to Helen of Troy, and goes on to joke about “one good [woman] in ten”. The clown is no fool and Helena is no Cinderella. She is Helen of Troy as Troilus and Cressida depicted her. Enter Helena. The conversation that ensues between her and the Countess is burlesque. It begins, Countess. You know, Helen [again, “Helen”, not “Helena”] I am a mother to you. Helena. Mine honourable mistress. Countess. Nay, a mother. Why not a mother? When I said ‘mother’, Methought you saw a serpent. What’s in ‘mother’

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

47

[“What’s in a name?”—Romeo and Juliet] That you start at it? I say I am your mother, And put you in the catalogue of those That were enwombed mine. [That may parody, “Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.” —Macbeth] In the bare space of 30 lines we get “mother… mother…mother…mother…mother…mother’s…mother’s… maiden…mother…daughter…mother…madam….brother… brother…mother…mother…madam…brother…mother… mothers…sisters… daughter …brother…daughter-in-law … ’daughter’ and ‘mother’.” In short, the dramatist hereby proclaims the venerable Countess a silly old bird. [Helen’s contribution to this blatant anti-poetry indicates her echoing of the Countess here, and her presumably habitual time-serving echoing designed to nestle her in the Countess’ good graces.] Sandwiched in, we have Helen’s sexual allusions, I his servant live, and will his vassal die, Which the Countess tops with, Now I see the myst’ry of your loneliness, and find Your salt tears’ head. Now too all sense it is gross You love my son. Gross indeed.

48

All’s Well That Ends Well

Helen admits her love for Bertram with a disclaimer: I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit. (200) We know this to be a lie. She finishes a long speech with her customary sexual quibbling: Wish chastely and love dearly that your Dian … 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! (219) Her mixing of sexual intimation with “chastely … Dian” signifies hypocrisy, which symbolizes her character, or lack thereof. “Dian” prefigures the arrival of Diana, a similar character. [regarding the King’s affliction] Helen. There is a remedy, approv’d, set down, To cure the desperate languishing whereof The King is render’d lost. Countess. This was your motive for [going to] Paris, was it? Helen. My lord your son made me to think of this, Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King Had from the conversation of my thoughts Haply been absent then.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

49

Countess. But think you, Helen … (237) Helen, Helen, Paris, Paris, and the Clown’s song of Helen of Troy: Shakespeare has given us hints to help unravel his yarn. One last matter before the Second Act. Helen spoke of the “desperate languishing” of the King whereof he is render’d “lost”. As already indicated and will become increasingly clear, his “desperate languishing” is sexual, and not his life but his pleasure is in peril of perpetual loss. By the end of the First Act, Love has been diminished to Lust, and War is a sordid scrap. Helena is lustful and scheming, associated with Helen of Troy; the Countess is silly and doting; the King decrepit and bemoaning a lack of sexual potency. Bertram we do not know yet. So far, the only person held up as an exemplary human being would be Bertram’s deceased father—and he was quite the lecher. The living generations, including the older one which eulogizes the past and bears itself as morally superior, leaves much to be desired. Act II, scene 1. Enter the King with diverse lords taking leave for the Florentine war. The King speaks of “honor”, “fame”. 2 Lord. O, ‘tis brave wars.

50

All’s Well That Ends Well

Then Shakespearean subversion sets in as Bertram wants to join them: Bertram. I’ll steal away. 1 Lord. There’s honor in the theft. Parolles. Commit it, Count. 2 Lord. I am your accessory. (35) War and Honor as theft: that pretty well sizes up the testimony to date regarding Love also, and the testimony prefigures genuine theft. Parolles. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals … Mars dote on you for his novices. II.1.46 That is mock-heroic talk and says something about the pretensions of the speaker. In between “noble heroes” and “Mars”, Parolles brags, You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrench’d it. Say to him I live; and observe his reports for me.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

51

This kind of thing could be verified, and Parolles is not fou. There may be more than a kernel of truth in it. Of course, Captain Spurio, as in “spurious”, was no Hector, and “entrenching” a facial wound sounds somewhat incongruous and hyperbolic. Yet the odds are Parolles actually fought him and cut the fellow. Parolles evidently tries to convey more than he accomplished, but very likely he stood his ground. Lafeu. I am Cressid’s uncle, That dare leave two together. (99) This time Helen is associated with Cressida (the slut) and Lafeu with Pandarus (the pimp)—worse and worse. Lafeu exits, and Helena says to the King, … hearing your high Majesty is touch’d With that malignant cause wherein the honour Of my dear father’s gift stands chief in power . . . (114) King. I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malady To empirics. (124) A cursory reading could lead one to consider the King’s disease to be fatal. Shakespeare uses the words “malignant cause” and “past-cure malady” to trap the unwary. But “malignant” and “past-cure malady” means that the malady is

52

All’s Well That Ends Well

past cure, not necessarily that the malignant malady is lifethreatening. The King’s malady, in fact, does not threaten biological life, only his sex life. The next quoted passage approaches as near a direct statement of the true problem as Shakespeare dares without plainly giving the game away: King. Upon thy certainty and confidence What dar’st thou venture? Helena. A strumpet’s boldness, a divulged shame, Traduc’d by odious ballads; my maiden’s name Sear’d otherwise; nay, worse of worst—extended With vilest torture let my life be ended. King. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak His powerful sound within an organ weak. (178) The last two lines represent grammatical legerdemain at its most cunning and slippery slyness. Shakespeare did not write “your organ weak”. He wrote, “an organ weak”. He pumps up the presumption with “in thee”, and leads us to believe that the King refers to Helena’s voicebox. In point of fact, however, the King refers to his own weak organ. And “some blessed spirit doth speak his powerful sound” may indicate that the King already perceives a faint stirring. So what does Shakespeare imply with all this talk of Cressida and Pandarus, of leaving Cressida alone with the

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

53

King? What should we infer when he uses language such as “stain”, “corrupt”, and “prostitute”? If Helena fails to cure him why will “a strumpet’s boldness” result in “a divulged shame” and sear her “maiden’s name”? If Cressida’s “medical” treatment be still unclear, the author rather graphically describes of what that treatment doth consist: King. Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, That ministers thine own death if I die. If it happens to me, it happens to you, and the King does not speak of physical destruction. Helena. If I break time, or flinch in property Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die; And well deserv’d. Not helping, death’s my fee; But if I help, what do you promise me? The first line is most graphic. Therefore, until the King said “thine own death if I die”, a conservative interpretation might conclude that she meant only to take the problem “in hand”. But now she unquestionably plans to earn her reward with a full “strumpet’s boldness”. In presumably good rhythmic time, Helena succeeds in curing the King of his ‘malignancy’, and gets to pick a noble husband: Helena. I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest

54

All’s Well That Ends Well

That I protest I simply am a maid. II.3.68 She protests too much, as we know. But this statement also appears to have a second meaning. She misrepresents herself to the nobles, yet she does not actually lie. The word “protest” affords an example of Helena’s shrewd plausibility— and another example of Shakespeare’s uncanny linguistic sleight-of-hand. On the surface she seems to protest against objections which might be raised that being a maid and candid would be insufficient reason for one of them to marry her. But does she not technically admit she is no longer a virgin? Does she not “protest (i.e. deny) I simply am a maid”? The calculatrix thinks it over and chooses…Bertram, who recoils from the idea. The King lauds Helen, “Virtue and she is her dower,” his recommendation arising by virtue of her, how shall we say, manipulations. So the King adds another credit—a fraudulent one—to her resumé, and character after character from here on will chastise Bertram for escaping his “virtuous wife”. Note also that during the selection process, Lafeu observed, Do all they deny her? Naturally. No nobleman in his right mind would desire to marry an unknown, poor commoner. Something else may be detected here. Bertram knows her, for a long time. He ignored her in the earlier scene with the Countess, and I gather he never did like her, for no reason exists to believe Bertram a snob. And Parolles knew her well enough to assume she would bandy sex talk with him.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

55

In short, Bertram likely knows Helena as we do—shrewd, saucy, lascivious, low-born and poor. Not an ideal match. Lafeu approaches Parolles and insults him, repeatedly—a person Lafeu has not met before: Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. II.3.187 Parolles is a gentleman, not a lackey, and rightfully objects to such insolence. Lafeu persists, Parolles controlling himself and responding with some dignity: My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. ..... I have not, my lord, deserved it. ..... He is my good lord: whom I serve above is my master. Lafeu acts the fantastik in this scene, the only ready explanation being that Helena has slandered Parolles to him. Lafeu knows nothing firsthand about Parolles, and in scene 5 Bertram contradicts Lafeu’s opinion: Lafeu. I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. Bertram. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. Lafeu. You have it from his own deliverance.

56

All’s Well That Ends Well

Bertram. And by other warranted testimony. Lafeu. Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark for a bunting. I pray you make us friends; I will pursue the amity. II.5.13 Independent confirmation. Parolles has earned more than a respectable reputation. The Clown insults Parolles in the brief fourth scene of this Second Act. Lavaches’ ridicule amounts to prediction, and foreshadows Parolles’ humiliation. (Clown: “many a man’s tongue … to say nothing … much fool may you find in you, even to the world’s pleasure and the increase of laughter”). Bertram declares, War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife. II.3.295 Parolles says bluntly: “The King has done you wrong.” We can vouch for that, and for Parolles to make such a blanket statement about the King provides an insight into his outspoken integrity, which also serves to foreshadow his downfall. Helena. Like a timorous thief, most fain would steal What law does vouch mine own. II.5.84

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

57

That’s just what she has done, stolen a husband. Such words about Love echo ‘steal’-‘theft’ references to the dogfightWar. The Countess, to Helena: He was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child. III.2.70 An unnatural sentiment given social structure, if nothing else. The silly Countess has a need to mother-mother-mothermother Helen. She goes on to condemn Parolles: A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness, My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement. Here we have another bare opinion inveighing against Parolles, contending that Parolles leads Bertram astray. Scene 2 of Act III concludes with Helena delivering a mock-heroic speech (“none-sparing war … the mark of smoky muskets … leaden messengers that ride upon the violent speed of fire”). It concludes with the suggestive line which echoes reinforcingly the mock-heroic language of Bertram and the Lords going to war (“brave wars”, “steal away bravely”, Bertram’s “I’ll steal away”, “honour in the theft”, “accessory”):

58

All’s Well That Ends Well

Helena. For with the dark, poor thief, I’ll steal away. Love as Theft and War as Theft; these two satiric messages inform from beginning to end All’s Well That Ends Well. Act III, scene 4. The Countess receives a letter from Helena which reads, I am Saint Jaques’ pilgrim, thither gone. (4) In the next scene, our “Raphael-like” beauty elucidates her destination as “Saint Jaques le Grand” (34) This constitutes another of Shakespeare’s clever-dirty gags, for a “Jaques” (“Jack”) was made for a Jacquenetta—“so is the weaker vessel called” (Love’s Labour’s Lost, I.1.255), and one need not thence explain how “le grand” enlarges upon a Jaques. Act III, scene 5 Diana. They say the French count has done most honourable service. Widow. I have told my neighbor how you have been solicited by a gentleman his companion. Mariana. I know that knave, hang him! one Parolles; a filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl. (17)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

59

Again the claim that Parolles is Bertram’s misleader. Enter Helena in the dress of a pilgrim. Widow. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie at my house. You bet she’ll lie. Helena will tell one lie after another to further her scheme. And she will lie in bed with Bertram. So she does a good deal of lying in the guise of a religious pilgrim. Note the play on “clothes”: Parolle’s clothes, those of a dandy, are held against him by Lefeu who claims the man has nothing more of worth, despite independent testimony of his earned reputation. Helena’s clothes, a hypocritical counterfeit, land her credibility as a virtuous woman and pilgrim. Such is the Way of the World. Diana. Is’t not a handsome gentleman [Bertram]? Helena. I like him well. Diana. ‘Tis pity he is not honest. Yond’s that same knave [Parolles] That leads him to these places. (83)

60

All’s Well That Ends Well

We have accented one of the most significant phrases in this play. It ranks above “organ weak”. Scene 6. Two French Lords call Parolles a “bubble” as they disclose a plan to Bertram, a means to exhibit Parolles as a liar and coward. 2 Lord. Let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. . . . He says he has a stratagem for’t. (17, 35) Enter Parolles. Parolles. Is’t but a drum? A drum so lost! There was excellent command: to charge in with our horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! 1 Lord. That was not to be blam’d in the command of the service; it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command. (54) Here we see literary testimony to a recurring phenomenon in the history of real warfare. The High Command (i.e. the Lords) show themselves grossly incompetent by commanding a charge upon their own wings. Then the fatuous alibi invoking Julius Caesar. The officers in the field, who take all the chances, seldom have the courage to charge the Command

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

61

to its face. But Parolles does. And we may infer that he has done this on prior occasions. No wonder the Lords are out to get him, and they have spotted a means for undoing their critic, utilizing Bertram in the same scheming manner as Helena uses practically everyone. Parolles, I conclude, is indeed a capable, clear-sighted officer, and at least passing brave. He shows himself too valiant vis-à-vis his superiors for his own good. Parolles, however, has a weakness, which his enemies remark. He has pretensions to be something more than capable. He wishes to be a hero. But for that he has only the mouth and not the heart. Parolles spoke jauntily of “entrenching a cicatrice” on Captain Spurio, indicating exaggeration. Now he has incautiously mentioned within earshot of his enemies a possible stratagem for fetching the drum, minimizing the danger and exaggerating his own prowess. “Parolles” = “words”, and a person who is straightforward, competent, and daringly critical of the Way of the World and the PowersThat-Be, can talk himself into a passel of trouble. Bertram lures the wordy Parolles into agreeing to a suicidal venture which Parolles is nowhere near crazy enough to genuinely attempt. So he must fake it. Bertram has done something mean. He has turned on a helpful associate of proven ability on the mere word of others who have an ax to grind. Bertram thus sets the trap and ruins a good officer. Parolles and 1 Lord exit. Bertram says to 2 Lord, Now will I lead you to the house, and show you The lass I spoke of.

62

All’s Well That Ends Well

2 Lord. But you say she’s honest. Bertram. That’s all the fault. I spoke with her but once, And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her By this same coxcomb that we have i' th’ wind, Tokens and letters which she did re-send; And this is all I have done. She’s a fair creature; Will you go see her? 2 Lord. With all my heart, my lord. III.6.122 This passage discovers much. (1) Bertram casts aspersion on himself by calling, and seeking to entrap, an associate and friend a “coxcomb” on mere allegation. (2) Bertram attests that it was he, Bertram, who employed Parolles on his nefarious missions—not Parolles who played Bertram’s misleader. Hence for public opinion. (3) What does this say about Diana? Bertram speaks of her lightly as a “lass” and invites the Lord to see her. Clearly Bertram does not consider Diana to be a respectable woman. This will become significant, for in judging Bertram we associate Diana with her chaste goddess namesake. The seventh scene illuminates the situation. Scene 7. Florence. The Widow’s House. Widow. Though my estate be fall’n, I was well born, Nothing acquainted with these businesses.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

63

Taken together with Bertram’s “lass speech”, and the prior statement by Mariana (“leads him to these places”), the above passage reveals one thing unmistakably: the Widow’s house is located in the Red Light district. It also raises the very likelihood that she herself has one of “these businesses”. In other words, the Widow appears to be the Madam of a whorehouse. Most certainly her house is surrounded by brothels, and Bertram quite reasonably assumes Diana to be a saleable commodity. That she showed herself “wondrous cold” at their first meeting only portends that he will not get what he wants cheaply. Helena proceeds to bribe the Widow liberally to advance her cause. As critics have pointed out, she has earlier bribed the Rector to provide her with a false death certificate. Whether she paid with money or in kind we can only guess. That ends the Third Act of Shakespeare’s satire on Love and War, reiterating the themes recently staged in Troilus and Cressida. Helena-Helen-Cressida represents a satiric inversion of the Cinderella theme. The poor, simple, virtuous girl who wins Prince Charming proves herself bribebestowing, endlessly cunning, sexually primed and moving. She buys, intrigues, and compromises her way after a Prince Charming who is noble in birth only.

Act IV, scene 1. Parolles is undone in this Act. He admits in what he wrongly thinks to be soliloquy that I find my tongue is too foolhardy. . . . What the devil should move me to undertake

64

All’s Well That Ends Well

recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? (38) Because you’re a miles gloriosus—though not an empty and outrageous braggart—and an overreacher, Parolles. Words are your problem, and the delusions of grandeur which prompt them. If you could keep dreams and words under control, you would be in fine shape. You do your job much better than most. You are otherwise honest and wellintentioned, never—as are the other characters—malicious, calculating, hard-hearted, or devious. To my way of thinking, you are the only likeable person in the play. Scene 2. Bertram relinquishes his ancestral ring for a promise of Diana’s “Jewel”. So much for his jewel, Honor. Parolles will accurately allude to “that lascivious young boy the Count”. (IV.3.232) Scene 3. Parolles is caught (he thinks, by the enemy) and blabs with energy, the blindfolding and apparent inability to communicate really frightening him. He confesses, with mirthful Shakespearean shots at military leadership: [The Horse] very weak and unserviceable. The troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live. IV.3.141 The soldier elicits testimony after testimony of the High Command’s worthlessness (1 Lord. Why does he ask him of me?). This is comic irony; the interrogating soldier enjoys

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

65

humiliating the Hierarchy. Parolles punctiliously complies, with references to them as “cowards” and “lackeys”, “thieves” and “rapists”. On behalf of the playwright, interrogator and interrogated distinguish the true nature of War from its glorious literary and political-propaganda portraits. They remove Parolles’ blindfold and his superior officers appear to him. After their departure, Parolles soliloquizes: Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great, ‘Twould burst at this. Captain I’ll be no more; But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft As a captain shall. Simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and, Parolles, live Safest in shame. Being fool’d, by fool’ry thrive. There’s place and means for every man alive. I’ll after them. (355) The thrust of this is not abject. It is honest, humble, and leaves Parolles the “unaccommodated man” King Lear refers to—stripped of the clothing and accoutrements of pretension and ambition which the other characters still carry with them, along with their eminent malices and dishonesties. Parolles’ humility and frankness are refreshing, for all else in All’s Well is Patchery, juggling, and knavery. Troilus and Cressida, II.3.67

66

All’s Well That Ends Well

And Shakespeare dignifies this speech by putting it in poetry. Scene 4. Helena bribingly enrolls Diana and the Widow in her scheme, alluding to a monarch’s backing because she “did him a desired office, dear almost as his life”. “Almost”: there’s the unequivocal confirmation that the malady did not threaten the King’s life. Her scheme is a pivotal one, which perhaps she learned from Boccaccio’s Decameron, something known as the “bedtrick”. ‘Tis arranged that Bertram will arrive to bed Diana, but unwanted wife Helena will take her place under the sheets in the dark. And that’s what happens. As in Boccaccio’s story, Bertram doesn’t know the difference. Scene 5. Rousillon. Lafeu. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow. We know that now to be false. Bertram was always the initiator. The Clown heralds the arrival of Bertram: Clown. O madam, yonder’s my lord your son with a patch of velvet on’s face; whether there be a scar under ‘t or no, the velvet knows; but ‘tis a goodly patch of velvet. His left cheek is a cheek of twopile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. (99)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

67

A patch? “The velvet patch on the face of the returning warrior may conceal wounds inflicted by syphilis rather than the sword.” (Anne Barton, Riverside Shakespeare 501) Shakespeare meant something by the Clown’s talk. What? To intimate that Bertram picked up venereal disease from a common prostitute would be a paltry joke, and not in this author’s line. But the intimation exists that Bertram has acquired something other than a battle wound. Shakespeare hints, I suggest, that Bertram did indeed contract syphilis in a sort of folk-tale fashion……via the bed-trick, from Helena. She gave it to him, all right. The outstanding question concerns where Helena got it. If Bertram contracted it from her, than reasoning by analogy—given a satire—one must conclude that Helena, the physician, was dosed by her patient, the King. Act V. scene 1. Helena finishes the scene: “We must to horse again.” This has bothered readers, her going fruitlessly to Marseilles only to be informed that the King has removed to Rousillon. Then she, Diana and the Widow must repair to Rousillon. The scene succeeds merely in Helen’s giving to a gentleman a petition to be handed to the King, “since you are like to see the King before me”. 38 lines and a separate scene hardly seem necessary to convey the petition information; the King or someone in his Court could do it in 2 lines. Apparently pointless, this 38-line scene must have significance or the playwright would have dispensed with it. We should suspect symbolism whenever Shakespeare does something like this.

68

All’s Well That Ends Well

He evidently offers us one additional hint to comprehend his Helena-character, and does it by echoing an exchange of mediocre comic value—and otherwise pointless—just heard a moment before. I think that with two pointless dialogues Shakespeare makes one important point. Thus, Lafeu and Lavaches clash in the preceding scene: Lafeu. Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well look’d to, without any tricks. Clown. If I put any tricks upon ‘em, sir, they shall be jades’ tricks, which are their own right by the law of nature. Lafeu. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy. Countess. … he [the clown] has no pace, but runs where he will. [i.e. willful, unruly] (68) All this talk of horse-jade-pace-and-run will be followed in the next scene by Helen on horseback going from town to town. And horses, tricks, jades’ tricks add to the LafeuClown horsing. Even Lafeu’s “fall out” and “go thy ways” links up with Helen’s “whate’er falls more” and “to horse again; Go, go.” So the two dialogues are connected, and the key phrase is “jades’ tricks”. This alludes both to the Trojan Horse and to the jade (i.e. wanton woman) Helen, not so much of Troy as

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

69

of All’s Well That Ends Well. For it is this jade’s tricks the reader must catch on to. Shakespeare hints and hints and hints. Scene 3. Bertram produces a ring which had originally been the King’s, given to Bertram by ‘Diana’-Helen during the bed-trick. [As said, Bertram thought he was in bed with Diana, but Helena ‘pinch-hit’ for her.] The King accuses Bertram of murdering Helen. Guards seize Bertram and take him off. The King receives a petition with reference to unhappy Bertram: “He stole [that word again] from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice. Grant it me, O King! In you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.”—DIANA CAPILET Her family name represents a parodying allusion to Romeo and Juliet (the feuding families, Montagues and Capilets). For we know that Diana and Helen are scarcely sweet, innocent, and estimable as that brave young heroine of Verona. Bertram, guarded, re-enters. Poor Bertram, first trapped by Helena—the frying pan—now faces the fire, Diana, whom he thinks (probably quite correctly) to be a harlot. And, significantly as to her character, she accuses him falsely, because Bertram had sex with Helena, not her, in that bed. She’s pawning herself off as a “poor maid”, with virtual certainty that’s a lie too. Bertram. My lord, this is a fond and desp’rate creature

70

All’s Well That Ends Well

Whom sometime I have laugh’d with. ..... She’s impudent, my lord, [You can say that again, when she has the nerve to perpetrate this fraud on the King!] And was a common gamester of the camp. (186) This may well be hyperbola. But Diana surely has experience as a prostitute, whether or not commonly.] Bertram has been universally condemned for a vile, wild lie here. But with very good personal reason does he believe Diana to be a prostitute. In fact, the woman (actually Helena) he has been to bed with, he knows to have been no virgin. And by her movements—which the King could validate—he truly may have thought her to have had a fair bit of experience. Therefore, Bertram speaks honestly. And look what he seems to face (whether with wife Helena or this one), if we cite from the next chapter, Measure for Measure Lucio’s dictum, Marrying a punk [prostitute], my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging. V.1.525 Bertram finds himself “dismissed to happiness” (Samuel Johnson’s phrase) with the frying pan, not the fire. His fate is an awful one, and a satire on the tragic hero, a satire on the virtuous heroine, and a satire on Love in literature, in life, or anyplace. The King hammers the last nail into the ironic coffin of this play:

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

71

King [to Diana]. Choose thou thy husband, and I’ll pay the dower. (328) Will she take her noble husband back home to live in a bordello??? Shakespeare provides the King with subtle mocking words to cap off the satire. Recalling that Helena has twice said, “All’s Well That Ends Well”, he says, King. All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. (334) “Seem” and “if”. Considering the sources of the “All’s well” refrain, one may infer that Love and War neither went well nor ended so. But the play’s the thing, and it, Mr. Shakespeare, was terrific.

Concluding Note 1: Plot and Subplot The Parolles-subplot comments satirically on the main Helena-plot. Parolles, well-intentioned but pretentious and indiscreet, falls precipitously. Helena, thoroughly dishonest but shrewd and plausible, thrives ascendingly. A success nonpareil, she marries into the high nobility and perhaps remains intimately connected with the King.

72

All’s Well That Ends Well

On the other hand, Parolles may not have been “dismissed to happiness”, but he was, happily, shoved into it. As for Helena again, she may be wallowing in material prosperity, yet it bodes ill, given her propensities, that she lives in an age before penicillin.

Concluding Note 2: “Bertram” and “Helena” The Sonnets indicate that “the poet encountered a double disloyalty”. M.C. Bradbrook suggests the possibility that the Bertram-character contains an allusion to Southampton. Southampton may have been the disloyal young male friend. Now if perchance Southampton were he, and Bertram be kin to Southampton, could the Helena-character contain an allusion to “the dark lady”?

IV.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Introduction Appearance: Just another conventional romance yarn, like All’s Well That Ends Well. The Duke of Vienna claims to go on vacation and leaves the government in charge of Angelo, a puritan who has a reputation for integrity. Escalus, a good magistrate, seconds him while the Duke as per the folk-tale motif adopts the disguise of a monk and stays around to watch. There was an unenforced law against extramarital sexual intercourse. The Duke had winked at it, but Angelo instantly enforces it with rigor. Death by decapitation to anyone who transgresses. Claudio is the first to fall afoul, having had unlawful—but not immoral—congress with his fiancée. Angelo has him imprisoned and slated for shortening by a head. Claudio’s sister Isabella is a novice in a cloister, a highly religious young woman. Accompanied by Lucio (a true “fantastik”: a lively, peculiar, amusing character), she goes to Angelo’s house to plead for her brother’s life. He denies her request yet allows her to return to discuss the matter. Isabella does; this time Lucio does not attend. Alone with her, Angelo has a proposition to make: Go to bed with

74

Measure for Measure

me and I will release your brother. The puritan, overcome by passion, thus unfolds his unholy offer. But Isabella refuses, and must tell her brother of her failure in the matter. In prison, she speaks with Claudio of what has transpired. The condemned man appreciates her virtue and, at first, supports her decision. But after second thought, he wishes she might give up her virginity just this once. Isabella fires off a few righteous volleys at the sinful notion, and departs. The Duke in monk’s clothing has been eavesdropping on the conversation in the prison cell. He instructs Isabella to contact Angelo and appear to accord with his desires. When the time comes to deliver, we will substitute Angelo’s former, jilted girlfriend. In the dark, he will not know the difference. (Suspend your scepticism, reader, this is the old Boccaccio Decameron bed-trick. It was used also in All’s Well That Ends Well when Bertram, thinking he sleeps with Diana, actually gets his own wife Helena. Hence the velvet patch.) Isabella agrees to the Duke’s scheme. And it works. Angelo bonks what he thinks to be Isabella, then Mr. Niceguy promptly orders Claudio’s execution. In the conclusion, the Duke uncowls and resolves everything. He had arranged that a pirate’s head be substituted for Claudio’s, so Claudio makes an appearance and the Duke sanctions the marriage to his affianced. The Duke himself latches onto Isabella for his wedding partner. The fantastic, Lucio, had spoken disparagingly of the Duke to the disguised Duke, and His Eminence now marries off the petrified Lucio to a “punk”, a whore. And one more marriage: Angelo must wed his jiltee. Finis to Measure for Measure.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

75

Literary Criticism One critic states that “moral issues . . . dominate the play”. Another calls it “a profound examination of moral issues”. A “cynical” play about “sin”, says a third; and a play “about forgiveness” comments a fourth. Attempts have been made to see Measure for Measure as “a Christian allegory”, one of which claims that “the atmosphere, purpose, and meaning of the play are throughout ethical … [and] must be read as a parable”. Such moralization of Measure for Measure has inevitably led to immense dissatisfaction with the comedy, deemed one of Shakespeare’s “problem plays”. Commentary on the finale: “its notoriously troublesome final scene”; “something forced and blatantly fictional about the Duke’s ultimate disposition of people and events”; its “implausible happy ending”; “the treble-dyed Angelo is merely told that his evil quits him well”. So-called “dark comedy”, “this strange unfulfilled play” seemed to infuriate nineteenth-century critics such as Samuel Coleridge. He denoted various aspects of the drama as “painful”, “disgusting”, “horrible”, “degrading”, and said it “baffles the strong indignant claim of justice”.

Parody Measure for Measure is a parody, a spoof. To earnestly discuss its moralities is to fall into the snare Wily William Shakespeare has set for us. In this counterfeiting play, we have delectable comic irony and fine-spun farce. Shakespeare deals mockingly

76

Measure for Measure

with the Morality-play and romances with their endemically conventional moral themes. The playwright necessarily makes special reference to his main source for the plot, George Whetstone’s play, Promos and Cassandra (1578). Whetstone adapted one of Giraldi Cinthio’s prose stories from the Hecatommithi collection (which includes “The Moor of Venice”). As was true of the sardonic All’s Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure is a bawdy play, more bawdy below the surface than above. Its very theme is fornication, and the ideological structure of the comedy revolves around a sexual quibble—“die”, i.e. to have a sexual orgasm. Shakespeare employed that word (and cognates “died”, “death”) so multitudinously and unpoetically often (some 85 times) in order to keep the joke alive from Act to Act and scene to scene. When a critic wrote that “the comedy as a whole is obsessed with the idea of death”, the comment strayed unerringly to the mark. Claudio has been sentenced to die for having “died” with his betrothed. There lies the precise jest at the core of Measure for Measure. That the jest should be reiterated in supposedly solemn or tragic circumstances marks the ironic, humorous use of contrast at which Shakespeare excelled. Two scenes deserve special commendation: Isabella’s initial pleading with Angelo, and the brother-sister dialogue in prison. Both scenes would be farcical, save the dramatist reins them in to keep the humor at parody. Less skillfully done, and the ambiguity of a “problem play” would lose its cover, farce becoming all too manifest.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

77

Act II, scene 2. The “bedroom” scene. Enter Isabella and Lucio to Angelo’s office. That the fantastik Lucio acts a part in this augurs ominous for sobriety. In fact, Shakespeare does something daringly and ingeniously comic here, a milestone in the history of humor. Do you know what Shakespeare does? He analogizes the Isabella-Angelo dialogue to sexual congress, and has Lucio act as a coach to the proceedings. Lucio coaches Isabella on what to do during intercourse to “warm up” Angelo and induce him to “come”. Look at the language. (My underlining of pregnant parts.) It begins with, Isabella. I have a brother is condemn’d to die. Provost (Aside). Heaven give thee moving graces! Lucio (to Isabella). Give’t not o’er so; to him again, entreat him, Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; You are too cold: If you should need a pin [remember the tailor joke, a pin pricks], You could not with more tame a tongue desire it. To him I say. Isabella. Must he needs die? Angelo. Maiden, no remedy.

78

Measure for Measure

Lucio [to Isabella]. You are too cold. Isabella. If he had been as you, and you as he, You would have slipp’d like him; but he, like you, Would not have been so stern. Angelo. Pray you be gone. Isabella. 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. Lucio [to Isabella]. Ay, touch him; there’s the vein. [!!] Angelo. He must die tomorrow. Isabella. Tomorrow! O, that's sudden. Who is it that hath died for this offence? There’s many have committed it. (“Giant’s strength … use it like a giant … great men thunder as Jove himself does … thy sharp and sulphurous bolt splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak than the soft myrtle ... little brief authority … glassy essence” happens to be more of the same from Isabella.)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

79

Lucio [to Isabella]. O, to him, to him, wench! He will relent; He’s coming; I perceive it. [Especially from Lucio, that’s not a subtle line.] Isabella. Authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself That skins the vice o’ th’ top. [The virtuous Isabella has uttered the most obscene remark of the play.] Angelo (Aside). She speaks, and ‘tis Such sense that my sense breeds with it. [finally warm!] ..... Come again tomorrow. Isabella. Hark how I’ll bride you . . . with such gifts that heaven shall share with you. Lucio [to Isabella]. You had marr’d all else. Isabella. Not with fond sicles of the tested gold, Or stones . . . Angelo. Well; come to me to-morrow. That was quite a session. It most assuredly does speak of lust, temptation, and fall. Isabella’s lewd “fond sicles … tested …

80

Measure for Measure

stones” sentence continues with “prayers”, “heaven”, “souls” and “fasting maids”. I verily suspect that the Elizabethans perfected a special irreligious nomenclature which likened a nun’s marriage to Christ to something far more earthly. “Nun”, as you may know from Hamlet, has another, a sexual meaning. A critic, by the way, has referred to Lucio’s “moral support” at Isabella’s first encounter with Angelo. That’s a quaint way to describe a pimp’s function.

Act II, scene 3. The brief third scene serves principally to prolong the echo of the “die” pun: Provost. She [Juliet] is with child; And he that got it, sentenc’d— a young man More fit to do another such offence Than die for this. This brings up the subject of Claudio’s betrothed’s name, Juliet. Claudio and Juliet are meant to parody Romeo and Juliet. Claudio makes Juliet pregnant, which provides evidence against him so he must die for having “died”. Earlier, Claudio bandied the word “name”: Claudio. . . . for a name, Now puts the drowsy and neglected act Freshly on me. ‘Tis surely for a name. I.2.174

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

81

This very probably alludes to “What’s in a name?” A racy Romeo and Juliet allusion certainly arises in the scene following “[Juliet] is with child”: Angelo. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isabella. My brother did love Juliet. And you tell me that he shall die for’t. II.4.142 The second meeting between Isabella and Angelo (II.4), as indicated in the preceding quote, plugs away at the “die” play. This overt seduction scene echoes the covert one and reverses the roles of seductor-seductee: Angelo. Then must your brother die. Isabella. And ‘twere the cheaper way: Better it were a brother died at once Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever. [a most evocative line] (108) Angelo. You seem’d of late to make the law a tyrant; And rather prov’d the sliding of your brother A merriment than a vice. Isabella. O, pardon me, my lord! It oft falls out,

82

Measure for Measure

To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean: I something do excuse the thing I hath For his advantage that I dearly love. (120) Every one of the above quoted passages contains subterranean sexual allusions. It takes consummate skill to compose such double-dialogue. Angelo. I give my sensual race the rein: Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To ling’ring sufferance. (167) Here the author combines the surface sex-talk with the submerged one. And, on the surface, Angelo implies torture; but the biological organism tends to receive a different impression. Isabella. Had he twenty heads to tender down On twenty bloody blocks, he’d yield them up Before his sister should her body stoop To such abhorr’d pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die. (184) (1) The pun makes for antithesis between “chaste” and “die”.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

83

(2) “Bloody blocks” refers to maidenheads. (3) “Twenty heads to tender down” involves the very important “head”-quibble, intimately linked in this play to the “die”-quibble. If “dying” lies at the core of the plot, then “losing one’s head and dying” signifies the warp-and-woof of it. Shakespeare has the tapster-bawd Pompey more-or-less define the head-quibble in the Fourth Act: Provost. Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man’s head? Pompey. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a married man, he’s his wife’s head, and I can never cut off a woman’s head. [This”head” is not above the shoulders!] IV.2.4 Hence for Isabella’s “skins the vice o’ th’ top” scatology in the “bedroom”-scene. To finish discussion of Isabella’s “twenty heads … twenty bloody blocks” passage, “abhorr’d pollution” not only connotes “whore” but points the reader in the direction of Pompey’s explanatory jesting, because his lines are quickly followed by the entrance of the executioner, Abhorson [i.e. whoreson]. Act III. The first scene effortlessly sustains the “die” business, taking place in the prison, and featuring Isabella’s wondrous talk with her doomed brother. And the Duke’s opening speech in the scene revels in parodying allusions to previous Shakespearean tragedy and history, adding to the Romeo and Julietiana. Such allusions

84

Measure for Measure

are signposts that the dramatist has not felt a serious stitch since commencing the composition of his comedy. (i.e. not Morality-play!). (a) Duke [disguised as a friar speaking to Claudio in the prison]. Be absolute for death; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep . . . (8) This takes off on Gaunt’s speech to his son Bolingbroke (Richard II) who departs for exile: Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus. I.3.277 So, if one recognizes the reference, it becomes savorily evident that the Duke seeks to console Claudio with the thought that he departs for a “happy haven”—this, when the Duke could save him whenever he wishes. b) Duke [continues]. A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences, That dost this habitation where thou keep’st Hourly afflict. Merely, thou art Death’s fool. (11)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

85

This seems to mimic or allude to Hotspur’s death speech: Hotspur: “Thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time’s fool . . . Percy, thou art dust. Our alleged play about ‘morality’ is a A to Z tongue-incheek comedy, and Shakespeare’s having some fun by parodying his own lines. And there may be an in-group guess-the-allusion game going on here—which, as we’ll see, is almost certainly the case with The Tempest. (c) Duke. For him thou labour’st by thy flight to shun And yet run’st toward him still. Thou art not noble; For all th’ accommodations that thou bear’st … That undeniably parodies King Lear: Lear. Thou’dst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, Thou’dst meet the bear i’ th’ mouth. III.4.10 “Accommodations” in the Duke’s speech: “meet the bear i’ th’ mouth” a few lines away encounters Edgar, “unaccommodated man”. (d) The next seems to be simple joking, sans literary reference that I can spot: Duke. Like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey, And Death unloads thee.

86

Measure for Measure

(28) [Imagine an almighty Authority doing this to an innocent man on Death Row!] (e) Julius Caesar: Duke. Thou hast nor youth nor age, But, as it were, an after-dinner’s sleep, Dreaming on both….What’s yet in this That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid moe thousand deaths; yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even. (41) That summons up Calphurnia’s dream and Caesar’s speech on Death-and-Cowardice: Cowards die many times before their deaths: The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will. II.2.37 (f) Now Claudio replies to the Duke. The dramatist glimmeringly, daringly mixes sex with New Testament theology: Claudio. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find I seek to die;

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

87

And, seeking death, find life. Let it come on. The Renaissance was a time for all time. The Isabella-Claudio Prison-Scene Brother and sister engage in their renowned (or notorious) discussion. Consider the head-and-die background, the coached sex bout, the Romeo and Juliet parody, and joking references to Shakespearean tragedy i’ th’ mouth of a Providence-playing Duke teasing a man on Death Row whom he could save at any moment, the same almighty arbiter who will become infuriated by a fantastik’s droll lies. Mark those things, then weigh the immediate situation: a sister visits in prison her ethically innocent brother to inform him that her chastity is worth a good deal more than his life, and as she nicely phrases it, “Tomorrow you set on.” To render the conversation even more ‘in dead earnest’, the Duke eavesdrops on it (a voyeurism hint?). Claudio. Now, sister, what’s the comfort? Isabella. Why, as all comforts are: most good, most good, indeed. Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift ambassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger [resident]. Therefore your best appointment make with speed; Tomorrow you set on.

88

Measure for Measure

One obviously must infer the deliberately comic from such flippancy. Nobody but a parodist talks like that to someone who really is about to depart precipitously and permanently. She’s a novice in a convent and pricks her brother on like that? In fact, she echoes the Duke’s teasing. Isabella proceeds to linger out her bequest of death for nearly 20 unnecessary lines. She teases poor Claudio with a double entendre on “perpetual durance” (referring erotically to perpetual ‘stiffness’), thereby raising his hopes to life imprisonment only to drop him down through the trap. She concludes this cat-and-mouse play with an orgasmic discourse: Isabella. Dar’st thou die? The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle that we tread upon In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. III.1.82 Beetle or giant, the experience comes out the same, our aspiring nun informs us. True to a theme, Isabella echoes her first meeting with Angelo when she spoke of “your potency” and “it is tyrannous to use it like a giant”. I would suppose that Claudio did not mind his sister’s sensualizing of death. He was, after all, dying to get into prison. But how irksome to find his own sister imaging a poor beetle that we tread upon, and all the while herself doing it to him. Claudio implicitly describes what he did to get where he is:

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

89

Why give you me this shame? Think you I can a resolution fetch From flow’ery tenderness? If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride [“darkness”, as in Marlovian Dido’s “darksome cave”] And hug it in mine arms. [“Here lies the sword that in the darksome cave he drew.” —Marlowe’s quibblica erotica.] V.1.295 Isabella. Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble to conserve a life In base appliances. A divine double meaning. If it eludes you, think of a principal message the author of the Sonnets addressed to the “noble” young man; an allusion to the Sonnets may be intended. . . . . It means, “die” and use your sperm to produce children. Isabella. This outward-sainted deputy, [The wily grammatical usage points the reference also, and to Isabella, not alone to Angelo.] Isabella. Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' th’ head. [This rivals “vice o’ th’ top” in the scatology sweepstakes.] Isabella continues their tete-a-tete: Dost thou think, Claudio,

90

Measure for Measure

If I yield him my virginity Thou mightst be freed? Claudio. O heavens! It cannot be. Isabella. Yes, he would give’t thee, from this rank offence, So to offend him still. This night’s the time That I should do what I abhor to name [she just named it], Or else thou diest tomorrow. Claudio. Thou shalt not do’t. (104) That, of course, mimics the Ten Commandments. Claudio makes up his mind to die, then changes it: Ay, but to die, and go we know not where. Now he parodies Hamlet’s “undiscover’d country”, and his 15-line (fabulous) extravaganza of inflated talk takes off on the “To be, or not to be” speech: Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; These lines would seem to specifically reverse the opening of Hamlet’s First Act discourse,

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

91

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! I.2.130 Claudio. and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison’d in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling—‘tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment, Can lay on nature is a paradise To what we fear of death. Shakespeare does not alone parody Hamlet’s life’s-troubles and suicide-question speech with extravagant language. He takes particular interest in these lines of Hamlet: Who would these fardels [burdens] bear To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death— The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn No traveller returns—puzzles the will. III.1.80 Shakespeare has Claudio speak of a traveller, but ‘tis neither Claudio, nor the human species. This astonishing playwright in this amazing speech refers to the journey of …….. semen.

92

Measure for Measure

To continue. Claudio pleads, “Sweet sister, let me live,” to which the holy Isabella offers not the cup of Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy: Isabella. O you beast! O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! I’ll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, No word to save thee. ..... Mercy to thee would prove a bawd; ‘Tis best that thou diest quickly. (152) Thus the brilliant skit comes to an end with Isabella damning her brother to “die” prematurely. The disguised Duke enters and Isabella tosses him a line which crowns her prison performance with grand hauteur: Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you . Isabella. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs. (159) Act IV, scene 3 introduces the bizarre Barnardine. His head is slated for the block too, but Barnardine I will not consent to die this day,

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

93

That's certain. I will not die today for any man’s persuasion. (52,56) [I am of the persuasion that the name and droll nonchalance and surrealism of Barnardine suggests him to be the model for Herman Melville’s splendid character, Bartleby the Scrivener. It was that uncanny Bartleby who drolled the refrain, “I would prefer not.”] Disposition and Distress: The Finale. What a battering the final scene of Measure for Measure has taken over the centuries. Yet if the play be understood as parody, the finale comes off swimmingly. No ending could be more appropriate or delightful. The four arranged marriages mock the ritualized “happy everafter” pairing-conclusions to fairy tales and romances. Since the play presents a comic mockery of the Morality-play and moralizing stories, why should not the Duke simply seize upon the novice whose sacred chastity shouted her brother into hell? And should not Angelo be spared for furnishing us the only “straightman” in this spoof? Shorn of lines like “What dost thou? Or what art thou, Angelo?” (“Wherefore art thou Romeo?”), the play might lose its pretense to deal with moral issues. Added to these benefactions, all fanciers of drollerie will applaud the pardoning of Barnardine. He honestly would not consent to die this day, or any day, that’s certain. So you may as well release him. I do have one complaint however. It touches on the only quasi-realistic element in this fantasy. I refer to the fate of the fantastik, Lucio. The dastardly Duke married him to a “punk”

94

Measure for Measure

(a prostitute), which is, saith poor Lucio, “pressing to death, whipping, and hanging”. The Duke peevishly responded, “Slandering a prince deserves it.” Like it or not, Lucio now has the same job as the “tapster” Pompey. Let’s hope she’s a good provider. Paradox. The charming conclusion to Measure for Measure amounts to something like this: The main body of the play, whose theme was fornication, involves the paradox of a man about to die because he died. The Duke rearranges the paradox so that everyone can legitimately die without dying.

Concluding Notes 1. Morality-Plays We wrote at the start that Shakespeare was parodying, for one thing, the Morality-play. Look at the characters in Measure for Measure; they may be considered personified abstractions—as in a classic Morality-play. Isabella = Chastity. Angelo = Lust, and the Devil too, I suppose. Claudio represents the Young Man sinner. The Duke is God; he remains hidden yet knows all and renders final judgment. (His disguise also associates him with religion.) Lucio, of course, is the Vice. So Shakespeare parodies (1) moralistic romances and folk tales (which specifically include the major source for plot and character, Promos and Cassandra), and (2) the Morality-play.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

95

2. Mystery Tales All’s Well That Ends Well and Measure for Measure, written a couple of years apart, are tandem tales which we might style “Mysteries”. The difference between Shakespeare’s Mysteries and our Whodunits, aside from the dramatist allowing his characters to “die” without being killed, lies in Shakespeare’s throwing an extra curve into his work: the most difficult part of the mystery pertains to discovering that it is one.

V.

CYMBELINE 1.

Thermopylae Posthumus. Close by the battle, ditch’d, and wall’d with turf, which gave advantage to an ancient soldier with his two striplings … made good the passage….Three thousand confident, in act as many … Lord. A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys … preser'vd the Britons, was the Romans’ bane. V.3 Shakespeare took this decisive event of his scene from Holinshed’s chronicle of a “Scoto-Danish Battle”: There was neere to the place of the battle, a long lane fensed on the sides with ditches and walles made of turfe, through the which the Scots which fled were beaten downe by the enimies on heapes. Here Haie with his sonnes [who were, astonishingly, farmers tilling their field and watching the nearby combat], supposing they might best staie the flight, placed themselves ouerthwart the lane, beat them backe whome they met fleeing, and spared neither friend nor fo: but downe they went all such as came within their reach, where with diuerse hardie personages cried vnto their fellowes to returne

98

Cymbeline

backe vnto the battell, for there was a new power of Scotishmen come to their succours, by whose aid the victorie might be easily obtained of their most cruell aduersaries the Danes. Shakespeare was in no position to avail himself in Cymbeline of the truly amazing aspect of this account: ordinary farmers about their chores interceding in warfare and turning the tide. I suggest he chose to duplicate the military scenario, not alone because he may have relished the whole episode, but that it awakened remembrance of a famous battle which took place in ancient Greece two thousand years before him— the Battle of Thermopylae. In Cymbeline, Posthumus Leonatus describes the heroic stand of Belarius and his two “sons”. At Thermopylae, the Spartans who held the narrow pass were led by their king. Do you remember his name? It was Leonidas. Shakespeare did not find the name “Posthumus Leonatus” in any source. A “Posthumus” can be discovered in one of Holinshed’s chronicles, and a “Leonatus” in Sidney’s Arcadia. One might contend that Shakespeare placed these two names together in order to signify the Spartan leader at Thermopylae. Hence his character is a posthumous Leonidas.

2.

Parody A critic has called Cymbeline “crude and naïve”, an apt phrase for Shakespeare to describe the acumen of modern critics who so comment upon his play. From among the foremost in their ranks, he might have singled out for goodnatured ribbing one George Bernard Shaw, who wrote:

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

99

“Shakespeare never could invent [a plot]. Unfortunately, instead of taking nature’s hint and discarding plots, he borrowed them all over the place and got into trouble through having to unravel them in the last act, especially in The Two Gentlemen of Verona and Cymbeline. The more childish spectators may find some delight in the revelation that Polydore and Cadwal are Imogen’s longlost brothers and Cymbeline’s long-lost sons, that Iachimo is now an occupant of the penitent form and very unlike his old self; and that Imogen is so dutiful that she accepts her husband’s attempt to have her murdered with affectionate docility. I cannot share these infantile joys.” Shakespeare’s fine comic irony sailed blithely over Shaw’s swelléd head. [Bernard Shaw, Geneva, Cymbeline Refinished, and Good King Charles. London: Constable, 1946, 135-6.] Certain instances of Cymbeline parody appear prominently. One takes off on Seneca, and another spoofs a typical romance narrative motif (surely with Aristotle’s Poetics in mind). Another employs a technique dear to the heart of Shakespeare—the chaste and virtuous heroine covertly uttering sexual quibbles. The seventh awaits us on a platform in the Greek theatre. We will begin our discussion with that one. (a) Deus ex Machina [Literally: God from the Machine. Supernatural deities made their entrances in the ancient Greek theatre via a crane which lowered them onto the stage.]

100

Cymbeline

Shakespeare uses the deus ex machina qua parody in Act V, sc. 4. The entire scene, starring the ghosts of Posthumus’ family, with a special cameo descent of Jupiter on his eagle, is pure and fairly-high camp. The true nature of the skit sallies forth when Jupiter “throws a thunderbolt” and “the ghosts fall on their knees”, followed by Jupiter’s patriarchal and all-too literal explanation of folk-tale morals, and crowned by Sicilius’ manifest mock-wonder-and-exaltation. [Jupiter ascends. Sicilius. He came in thunder; his celestial breath was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle Stoop’d, as to foot us. His ascension is More sweet than our blest fields. His royal bird Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, As when his god is pleas’d. All. Thanks, Jupiter! Sicilius. The marble pavement closes, he is enter’d His radiant roof. Away! And, to be blest, Let us with care perform his great behest. [Ghosts vanish. William Shakespeare did not write such stuff in consummate seriousness. The playwright augments the effect— and forewarns—of this ironically comical, tongue-in-cheek skit by prefiguring it with references to Jupiter: once when Posthumus conceives wrongly that Imogen was unfaithful to him, the other time

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

101

when Imogen conceives wrongly that Posthumus lies headless in front of her. Posthumus. Back my ring. Render to me some corporal sign about her, More evident than this; for this was stol’n. Iachimo. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm! Posthumus. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears. ‘Tis true—nay, keep the ring, ‘tis true. II.4.122 Imogen. A headless man? The garments of Posthumus? I know the shape of’s leg . . . . but his Jovial face— Murder in heaven! IV.2.312 Imogen’s speech, as we shall see in a moment, is pure parody, and a punchline of it—Jovial face—anticipates Jupiter’s “our Jovial star” allusion to Posthumus, just as Imogen thought she was alluding to him. These prefigurements add a small humorous note if you recall them once the deus descends into the sleeping Posthumus’ cell. Especially piquant is the word “Jovial”, which has a double meaning whether spoken by Imogen or Jupiter, the second meaning (not Jupiter-like) informing us what truly transpires here.

102

Cymbeline

(b) The Recognitions Scene. To begin with, someone has counted 24 revelations in the space of 455 lines of Act V, scene 5 of Cymbeline. That reveals the kind of excess we do not normally associate with Bardic realism. But parody, yes. Most humorous, to my sense, is the Queen’s revelation that she abhorr’d her husband, married him because he was king, and planned to kill him slowly with a magic mineral. I also like Iachimo’s droll confession (“He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams and she alone were cold.”). The proverbially loyal page has a good line when telling ‘his’ master, “Shuffle for yourself.” Cymbeline reacts, “Who is’t can read a woman? Is there more?” Posthumus’ exclamation, “Italian fiend!”, fits in with the “corrupt-and-vile-Italy” takeoff fancied by Jacobean mock-tragedy [and see section (c) for the Othello-connection]. In sum, the whole Fifth Act represents subtle and delightful parody. A deluge of disclosures and faintly ironic lines commenting upon them, I for one consider that a pretty good Fifth Act.

(c) Othello. Another element of the vast Recognitions scene which tops off a Shakespeare-parodying-Shakespeare motif involves Posthumus’ striking of Imogen, his beloved-in-disguise. Do not be angry with him, he meant it in good fun—at least the playwright did. Cymbeline parodies Othello. Iachimo substitutes for Iago, Othello’s “Italian fiend”. Iachimo’s name likely stems from “Iago”. [In the Boccaccio Decameron source, the analogous character has the name Ambrogiuolo.]

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

103

Posthumus’ long, excessively long, diatribe against women (II.5.1-35, the entire scene)—coming after Iachimo’s lies in the style of Iago—mimics Othello. As with the Moor, Posthumus repeats the word “devil”, adds three “vices” and a cry for revenge (“O, vengeance, vengeance!”). Posthumus’ Othello-like credulity, jealousy, and murderous temper leads to the-killing-of-heroine-by-devoted-husband motif which parodies Othello and Desdemona. Under Iago’s influence, Othello began to speak like Iago. And some of Posthumus’ lines under Iachimo’s influence are so Iagoesque as to conjure up that devil himself, only this time we can smile. His line in that Act II, sc. 5 speech which likens Iachimo possessing Imogen to a full acorn’d boar, a German one, is rather good. Of course, when Posthumus strikes the “page”, that parodies Othello’s striking of Desdemona. Mark that he had no realistic reason to hit the page, no reason outside the audience’s knowledge that the heroine resides under that disguise. To the understanding elect among the playgoers, that heroine was Desdemona.

(d) Imogen, the Maculate Heroine. Look at her speech in Act IV. sc. 2, which furnishes an exemplary piece of sexual innuendo. It has both mock-heroic description (“his foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh, the brawns of Hercules”) and hardcore erotic symbolism. When the virtuous heroine asks,

104

Cymbeline

O Posthumus! alas, Where is thy head? she not only speaks with unrealistic language and sentiment, but—as Francisco speaking of Fernando in The Tempest— does not alone refer to the head above his shoulders.

(e) Mock-Tragedy. Cymbeline sports a succession of mock-tragic-death speeches. Guiderius and Arviragus’ over Imogen was one, in song and rhyme no less: Fear no more the heat o’ th’ sun Nor the furious winter’s rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. IV.2.264 What is serious and tragic about that excellent (comic) line? must, like chimney-sweepers, come to dust?!! Passages introducing this song, spoken after the discovery of Imogen’s apparently lifeless form, also belong to the realm of ironic comedy: Arviragus. I had rather. Have skipp’d from sixteen years of age to sixty, To have turn’d my leaping time into a crutch, Than have seen this. (201)

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

105

“Leaping time” [“leaping” refers to sexual intercourse] disqualifies solemnity from the thought. And I am too fainthearted to point out a line of Belarius echoing the Arviragus conception. A second parodying death-speech was Imogen’s over “Posthumus”. The Gaolor obviously parodies the “Fear no more the heat o’ th’ sun” mock-lament with his “Fear no more tavern bills” speech. (V.4.158)

(f) The Folk-Tale Foundling In Cymbeline, Shakespeare mocked a number of motifs from romance narratives. One of them: the long-lost relative who eventually surfaces to be recognized by some token. Shakespeare’s Recognitions-parody most evidently includes an allusion to Aristotle’s Poetics. In the context of the Fifth Act’s comprehensive parody, the suggestion of Aristotle signifies a delicate, ironic jest. Belarius discloses the true identity of Polydore and Cadwal: Bel. This gentleman, whom I call Polydore, Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius; This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus, Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp’d In a most curious mantle, wrought by th’ hand of his queen mother. V.5.362 AND, Cymbeline then says,

106

Cymbeline

Guiderius had Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine . . . For that sanguine . . . we turn to Aristotle’s Poetics and his enumeration of the kinds of Recognition: “First, the least artistic form, which, from poverty of wit, is most commonly employed—recognition by signs.” That’s the reason for Shakespeare’s tokens-recognition, and the subtle jest associated with it: because Aristotle deemed such things artless and impoverished. The Greek scholar, philosopher, logician, and what else, goes on to give examples of signs: “Of these some are congenital,—such as ‘the spear which the earth-born race bear on their bodies,’ or the stars introduced by Carcinus in his Thyestes.” To finish Cymbeline’s sentence, Guiderius had upon his neck a mole, “a sanguine star”. Since Shakespeare cannot be rationally accused of a ‘poverty of wit’—even by as redoubtable a personage as G. B. Shaw—we may securely infer an abundance of wit on the Elizabethan’s part. And leave the poverty to his critics.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

107

Concluding Note Cymbeline contains subtle parody. Such ironic, lighthearted comic mockery glides as close to the line of straight sobriety as the genre will pretty much allow, a superb accomplishment.

VI.

HENRY V

Henry V concludes both the second Tetralogy and Prince Hal's journey towards, I suppose, ideal kingship. He emerges as an embodiment of Lion, Fox and Pelican. The Lion—at Shrewsbury, Harfleur and Agincourt. The Fox—at his momentary unmasking in I Henry IV (“I know you all and will awhile . . .” I.2), and at his unmasking of treason in Henry V. The Pelican—in his disinterestedness and total dedication to kingship, purifying himself of appetites and purging all his erstwhile pals: Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym . . . Shakespeare ridding us of these disreputable objects of righteous policy.

Quandary Now, what about this very controversial play which has excited so much caustic criticism and desperate defense? As this writer views the situation, Shakespeare confronted an extremely difficult task in composing Henry V, wending a way strewn with pitfalls of conflicting requirements. Above all, he needed to create an ideal hero-king who partook both of reality and the storybook paragon, and one who could be both admired and still tolerated. In addition, he must satisfy Queen Elizabeth and all she signified in her Tudor royalty-nobility, and rouse the crowd who would pay to see the final installment of two monumental epic national tetralogies.

110

Henry V

Next, as an intellectual and an artist, he had to come to grips with historical fact without deviating too far from it. After all, Henry V's popularity depended to a considerable extent on the glory achieved in aggressive warfare. So what might he do? He could play all-out to the grandstand, which would have been inartistic, crude, and utterly unShakespearean (what some have accused him of doing). Or he could present Henry V in a frankly unfavorable light, which would demolish the gist of the first seven plays and cost him his job. Or he could call on Christopher Marlowe to pull him out of a jam. We think that is what he did, and that he did it passing well or better. Tamburlaine Before writing anything about Henry V's exploits in France, Shakespeare would of necessity turn to the English stage's hitherto most famous, rousing and groundbreaking spectacle, its colossal bloodiest-and-gutsiest masterpiece— Christopher Marlowe’s Tamburlaine. In T I and II, we witness a similar type (to Henry V) of epic drama in theme, language, and (too-close-for-comfort) in heroic characterization. Marlowe faced a problem when writing something as highly astounding as Tamburlaine. How does one present such incredible action and language, Act after Act, scene after scene, then play after play without people either becoming cloyed or, worse, smiling and chuckling? He needed to defuse the possibility of Tamburlaine being taken in a parodying vein. A vital means he used was a dash of comedy, specifically parody. Mycetes in T I, and the fine comic character Calyphas in T II, afforded the amusement shrewd spectators might otherwise derive from the hero.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

111

Thus, Tamburlaine offered Shakespeare a model to work from, and a strong hint on how to resolve his conflicting objectives. Therefore, although Henry V is certainly not a thoroughgoing parody, it does contain elements of mock-heroism and other ironic comedy. Most of the so-called 'brutality' in Henry, and all of the alleged inartistry of his creator, dissolve in Shakespeare's ironic humor. 1. In IV.6 Exeter describes the death of young Duke of York in the perfect manner of mock-heroic parody, steering clear of melodrama and stopping short of burlesque and farce: Exeter. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty. King Henry. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting; From helmet to the spur all blood he was. Exeter. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie. Larding the plain [Shakespeare has not forgotten it was Falstaff who “lards the lean earth” at Gadshill—II.2.120]; and by his bloody side,— Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,— The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies. Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over, Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd, And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes That bloodily did yawn upon his face; [The last two lines were scarcely written in dead earnest].

112

Henry V

And cries aloud, “Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk! My soul shall thine keep company to heaven; Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast, [which surely mimics a memorable verse from Henry Vl, Part I, “Two Talbots winged through the lither sky,” said after the hero Talbot and his valiant son both die in battle] As in this glorious and well-foughten field, We kept together in our chivalry!” Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up: He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand, And with a feeble gripe says, 'Dear my lord, Commend my service to my sovereign.' So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips; and so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd A testament of noble-ending love. The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd. That was mocking macabre humor, a nice dose of it. 2. Shakespeare gives Fluellen, his sturdy and sharp-tongued Welsh soldier, a cute line which comically imitates kings Richard II and Henry V at one and the same time. Henry says before Agincourt: Not today, O Lord! O! not today, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown. I Richard's body have interr'd anew, And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears Than from it issu'd forced drops of blood.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

113

IV.1.317 Richard had said, Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. RII, III. 2.54 So Fluellen welshes, All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody. IV.7.113 3. Hostess Quickly's description of Falstaff’s death was obviously patterned after the death of Socrates in Phaedo—a risqué imitation of it, almost an exact copy of the Phaedo commentary except for a faint lewdness to Falstaffianize poor Socrates. 4. We hope to have softened you up for Harfleur. In the eyes of many critics, Hal met his moral Waterloo there. And Shakespeare his artistic Elba. Whether Henry V's words before the walls of the city are delicately referred to as “disturbing”, or more colorfully called “his ravings”, “almost incredible in their mingled brutality and hypocrisy”, the following speech gets a rise out of almost everyone: King Henry. ... as I am a soldier,— A name that in my thoughts, becomes me best,— If I begin the battery once again. I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur Till in her ashes she lie buried.

114

Henry V

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, In liberty of bloody hand shall range With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. What is it then to me, if impious war, Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats Enlink'd to waste and desolation? What is it to me, when you yourselves are cause, If your pure maidens fall into the hand Of hot and forcing violation? Therefore, you men of Harfleur, Take pity of your town and of your people, Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command. If not, why, in a moment look to see The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; Your fathers taken by the silver beards, And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls; Your naked infants spitted upon pikes III.3 We have accentuated pure parody. (or is it spoof?) “Mowing like grass your fresh-fair virgins”?? One may doubt whether anyone on earth could have written such a line soberly. The great ironist Shakespeare was serious when penning it? “Fresh-fair”, “flowering infants”, “shrill-shrieking” alliterative atrocity alone should tip off the reader to what's going on.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

115

Besides, Shakespeare specifically parodies Tamburlaine. "Mowing ... virgins" must recall Marlowe's Damascus virgins whom the doctrinaire Tamburlaine butchered instead of deflowering. Shakespeare joshes about it. King Henry stands before the walls of Harfleur issuing an ultimatum to the Governor, and repeatedly menaces their virgins. Tamburlaine stands before the walls of Damascus issuing an ultimatum to the Governor, and the outcome—all about four maidens—finds virginal offerings led to the slaughter. [Holinshed’s Chronicles, an essential Shakespearean source for English history, says nothing of Henry delivering a speech at Harfleur. It mentions only that an ultimatum was given.] The First Marlovian Virgin (who, by the way, has very good speeches; a fine supporting role; she has dignity and eloquence) addresses Tamburlaine: Pity our plights! O, pity poor Damascus! Pity old age, within whose silver hairs Honour and reverence evermore have reign'd! V.2.19 The emphasized words point to Henry's “Your fathers taken by the silver beard And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls.” That denotes a particular connection between Harleur and Damascus, reinforcing the strong thematic connection. And 15 verses later she speaks these entreating lines: For us, for infants, and for all our bloods, That never nourish’d thought against thy rule, Pity O pity, sacred emperor, The prostrate service of this wretched town.

116

Henry V

Henry follows “silver hairs ... reverence” with “your naked infants spitted upon pikes.” Indeed, Tamburlaine is about to spit the maidens upon spears. Therefore, Henry V's Harfleur-speech takes off on Act V, scene 2 of Tamburlaine I. If you read Shakespeare's speech that spoofing way, you will find it gloriously entertaining and will take back all of the nasty things you have said about Henry and his creator. “Mowing ...” happens to be one of Shakespeare's mighty nice lines. Let us begin to give the Bard credit for his freshfair flight of de-flowering fancy. To conclude, although Marlowe skillfully avoids the comic response to his hero’s speeches, a little imagination crosses the line into parody. The possibilities are definitely there, and Shakespeare could disport tragedy into comedy quicker than Jaques could suck melancholy out of an egg. Shakespeare gave the Henry V finale to his second tetralogy a goodly dose of ironic jesting. Note: There exists an interesting Marlovian source for the Tamburlaine protagonist himself—Ivan the Terrible. Russia's scarcely believable yet non-fictional monarch, in all probability the most bloodthirsty monster born to the human species, was a contemporary of Elizabeth I. In fact, he proposed marriage to Queen Elizabeth, who tactfully turned him down. Later, he sought to marry a grand-niece of hers, the suit hampered by Ivan's reputed stabbing (he really did it) of his own son to death. (Mass murder evidently was all right, but doing in one's own kin gives rise to scandal.) When Marlowe has Tamburlaine commit the very same act against his son Calyphas (something the historical Tamburlaine never did), Ivan's deed most assuredly fostered it.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

117

One might conjecture that much of the force and cruelty and possibly the long powerful speeches of Tamburlaine (did Marlowe know that a favorite pastime of Ivan was the long bombastic speech?) were inspired by the inimitable Russian king who died shortly (hence safely) before Marlowe composed Tamburlaine. This greatest of torturers (frying people alive in giant skillets was one of his refinements of the art) thought of God as his accomplice in these matters. Ivan needlessly butchered some 25,000 folks of Novgorod, after which he walked into the local cathedral and directed the choir with his spear.

VII. .

THE TEMPEST

Introduction The Tempest includes three essential components: (1) Prospero the Sorcerer’s Self-Conquest, the mastery of his bitter Passion for Revenge by the final, triumphant exercise of Reason. (2) Parody. The Tempest is not a “tragicomedy” which has a serious, tragic plot comedized by a happy ending. The story has an element of serious drama—Prospero’s inner struggle— but the mass of the play consists of mock-seriousness, covert sexual mirth, parody and satire. The conspirators, the lovers, the aged counselor—all parody stock types in romance literature. Much of the dialogue is meant to mimic and mock, and not to be accepted in earnest as the verisimilitude of adventure and love. A sure index of the author’s ironic and droll humorous intent is deliberate incongruity: cryptic obscenities spoken by an innocent, nature-girl heroine and her Prince Charming; crude, vulgar, and frivolous talk and behavior from ostensibly sophisticated, politic persons of the nobility; shockingly inept poetry and prose; the toying with an essay by Montaigne; and manifest parodying of lines and motifs from Macbeth, plus spot playful allusions to other Shakespearean plays. There

120

The Tempest

may also be mocking references to persons of Shakespeare’s acquaintance, perhaps including the author himself. (3) Satire, on Colonialism and on Montaigne’s utopia. Centuries of European Colonialism began shortly before Shakespeare’s time, and The Tempest tends to denote Shakespeare an early sceptic or critic of the movement. Since an interpretation of The Tempest as parody scarcely moves along the mainstream of Shakespearean criticism, we must assay to prove the contention by means of a running commentary on the play. The Tempest is a difficult play, and I do not pretend to have all the answers. But conventional interpretations are flat wrong They make Shakespeare appear amateurish in many places, his poetry sometimes awkward and crude (to be kind); his characterizations simplistic and insipid; the plain sense and import of many lines oddly in doubt, and whole passages altogether tedious. The mixture of such surface ineptitude alongside some truly sparkling effects demands explanation—and there is one. The conception of parody, which totally clears up the Measure for Measure mystery, does much of the job here. We find it (plus a guess-the-allusion-to-my-previous-plays game) more than satisfactory to account for many of The Tempest’s joint-and-several problems, rendering meaningful and amusing what would be otherwise dull and incoherent. What remains to confound us might be the result of ingroup allusions. For I believe the comedy alludes to familiars of Shakespeare and to conversation or incidents which he makes mocking reference to in the play. Among

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

121

precedents for such contemporary persona symbolism would be humour-plays of his good friend Ben Jonson, and possibly Shakespeare’s own Love’s Labour’s Lost. Significantly, The Tempest was Shakespeare’s last uncollaborated work, which lends credence to the theory that he intended the epilogue as a farewell. Under such circumstances, one might expect the author to indulge in certain highly personal touches. Act I, scene 1. A tempest rages and the ship may, finally does, founder. Sebastian and Antonio shout abuse at the Boatswain while he works desperately to save the ship. Given the situation, their behavior seems wholly incongruous. Seb. A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur! Hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker. (45) Churlish, senseless behavior. If one had not read the dramatis personae, what manner of people might we presume these two to be? Drunken examples of a vulgar sort. But they are not drunk, and they happen to be the Duke of Milan and the brother to the King of Naples. Indeed, according to Prospero’s description of his usurping brother, Antonio proved himself a patient, astute and capable individual:

122

The Tempest

Pros. Thy false uncle . . . Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who t’ advance, and who To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang’d ‘em, Or else new form’d ‘em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th’ state To what tune pleas’d his ear. I.2.77,85 Compare that politic ruler with the Antonio who irrationally curses the Boatswain during the tempest. Antonio of the first scene (and Sebastian) will remain in character to the end of the play, antithetical to objective expectation. They pose a kind of low, wearisome comedy, a chorus of uninspired satyrs. Persistent incongruity. How does Gonzalo act during the emergency? He is the “honest old counselor”, the benevolent salvation of Prospero’s books who accompanied the ousted, exiled Duke of Milan and child Miranda to the boat, the same Gonzalo who will discourse on the ideal commonwealth once on Prospero’s isle. Prospero’s recommendation: Mir. How came we ashore? Pros. By Providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity, who being then appointed Master of this design, did give us, with

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

123

Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish’d me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. Pros. [Fifth Act] O good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him thou follow’st! V.1.68 First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measur’d or confin’d. V.1.120 What does Gonzalo convey of his “gentleness“, “charity”, “honour” and “nobility” during the tempest? Boats. Out of our way, I say. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows … I’ll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. A vulgar reference to a rogue’s either drowning or hanging, capped by a lewd joke, which seems hardly appropriate in the circumstances, and highly irregular in light of all else we will learn of him. Furthermore, he spoke in prose, not poetry.

124

The Tempest

One can easily forget as the play proceeds that Gonzalo spoke these lines in the first scene. But if you recollect them during one of Prospero’s eulogies, or during Gonzalo’s reverie on the ideal commonwealth (especially the line “And women too, but innocent and pure”), the inconsistent characterization acquires a somewhat droll effect. [Perhaps Shakespeare is satirizing inconsistent, unskillful romance-narrative characterizations. Or pointing up the difference between certain people’s reputation and their true, coarser selves—in fiction or in real life. ] Act I, sc. 2 (1) Macbeth Miranda. If by your Art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them…. O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, (Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,) Dash’d all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart. In romance literature, one might well expect “some noble creature” to be on “a brave vessel”. The irony lies in the contrast with the surly, fatuous talk we have heard on the ship a moment ago, and the fact that two of the noble personages aboard are unscrupulous and evil. When Antonio addresses his crony as “Noble Sebastian” (II.1.210) in the Macbethparody assassination-scene, Shakespeare uses the word with irony and places Sebastian in a category with “honest Iago”.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

125

The last two verses quoted begin the Macbeth parody in our comedy. The great tragedy’s motifs mirror those of The Tempest, a play which is, in the main, a lighthearted, ironic and comic effort. “Some noble creature Dash’d all to pieces” possibly mimics Lady Macbeth’s image, “Dash’d the brains out [of her baby!]”. “The cry did knock against my very heart” certainly plays on Macbeth’s Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs. (2) “Wench” Miranda: “Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us?” Prospero: “Well-demanded, wench.” This word has two meanings: girl, maid; and wanton woman. Prospero echoes the “wench” of Gonzalo’s ribaldry in the previous scene, and both uses of the infrequently employed noun arise in connection with boats and danger. Hence no chance exists that Shakespeare inadvertently duplicated the usage. In relating the two wenches, he casts a faint slur on his Miranda. To reinforce this impression, Prospero will call Miranda “wench” twice again in this scene (413, 480), both times with regard to her infatuation with Ferdinand, a relationship to which there is much sexual allusion by Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. Again, in short succession, we have Antonio’s Temperance was a delicate wench, II.1.43

126

The Tempest

part of his rude quipping with Sebastian and, I think, Shakespeare’s wry, prefiguring comment on Miranda and the Betrothal masque. Gonzalo’s, Prospero’s, and Antonio’s ‘wenching’ serves to undercut the pristine image of l’ingenue Miranda by attaching a racy appellation to her. Miranda will reinforce and settle the aspersion on herself in the Third Act. (3) Milan as Seaport. Prospero tells Miranda of their banishment from Milan by boat. Shakespeare makes inland-Milan a seaport. Did he confuse Milan with Genoa? That seems quite unlikely. In The Winter’s Tale, critics customarily lament Shakespeare’s ignorance of, or heedlessness of geography, because he gives inland-Bohemia a seacoast. Bohemia with a coast, however, was a highly and excellently symbolic stroke by the author, not a mistake in geography. [He was cryptically alluding to Palestine.] Here in The Tempest, Shakespeare would logically want a port of embarkation to strengthen his tempest-imagery. So why not specify Genoa or another real or imaginary port? Everyone knows Milan to be far away from the sea. The answer I propose again is parody. This squares not only with the many incongruities and ironically jesting nature of the play, but fits in with Prospero’s manipulation of people and events. We will discuss momentarily Prospero the magician’s symbolism as a literary conjuror, signifying authors who create illusions, especially unrealistic, romantic

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

127

ones—such as an inland-Milan situs for a dramatic and poignant exile by sea. (4) “Mark me!” Another oddity involves Prospero’s repeated interjections of “Mark me!”, meaning in this context “Pay attention!” or “Stay awake!”, during his recital to Miranda of the usurpation-and-exile story. He says, “I pray thee, mark me,” “Dost thou attend me?”, “Thou attend’st not?”, “I pray thee mark me,” and “Dost thou hear?” She assures him emphatically of her alertness, and when his recital reaches its more-or-less conclusion, she falls off to sleep. Then Ariel enters. Was Miranda dozing off despite her sharp rejoinder, “Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.”? Yet she does sleep immediately upon the story’s conclusion. Perhaps Shakespeare or Prospero puts her to sleep in order that Prospero and Ariel may speak without being overheard. But the odd-sounding interjections are not necessary; she could simply be put to sleep at the conclusion, or leave on an errand. I see no purpose in creating such a curious ambiguity— other than (1) the parodying effect of having the wizard tell a fascinating tale of yore to a listener who should be enraptured yet keeps nodding off. AND/OR (2), Is she in the clutches here of that great bore who was silenced by Hamlet? To wit, Polonius. As thus: ‘I know his father and his friends, And in part him’. Do you mark this, Reynaldo? Reynaldo. Ay, very well, my lord.

128

The Tempest

Polonius. Marry, sir, here’s my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of warrant: You laying these slight sullies on my son, As ‘twere a thing a little soil’d wi’ th’ working, Mark you, Your party in converse, him you would sound … I was about to say something; where did I leave? Hamlet, II.1.51 Hence, evidently, Shakespeare has Prospero dish out an extensive Polonius-allusion. (5) Macbeth (again). When Prospero says, “Come away, servant, come, and Ariel’s first words are “All hail, great master!”, that conjures up, “All hail, Macbeth!” from the three Witches (I.3), and the trailer to Hecate’s speech, (Song within: ‘Come away, come away,’ etc. (III.5) Macbeth will come back many times in The Tempest, and a mock-serious rationale prompts it. Just joshing. There may also be a guess-the-reference game played here. (6) Magician = Author, Literary Conjuror? Miranda. I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Prospero (Aside). It goes on, I see,

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

129

As my soul prompts it. I.2.421 Ferdinand. Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. [suggesting Hamlet’s “dungeons … bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space”] Prospero (Aside). It works. One might interpret these as symbolic scenes containing a dual meaning: (a) “It works” and “as my soul prompts it” indicate that Prospero has created these starry-eyed, hyperbolic lovers. This symbolizes authors creating fictional characters of a romantic and unrealistic hue, said characters being objects of much Shakespearean mirth prior to The Tempest, and subjects of parody in the present play. (b) In Platonic doctrine—to which Shakespeare may be referring or kidding about in the play—the soul possesses a noble, spiritual side, and an ignoble, base side. Given the Reason versus Passion Platonic dualism which signifies Prospero’s inner conflict, we may not be going too far in ascribing to Prospero’s “soul prompts it” the notion of the better part of the soul-creating love. As a corollary, Ariel would symbolize one part, and Caliban the other. And of course, there are the two sides to Gonzalo, Antonio and Sebastian.

130

The Tempest

While we’re at it, Macbeth had two opposing sides: Conscience (“milk of human kindness” as Lady Macbeth mentioned) and Ruthlessness. Conscience lost out. Perhaps the playwright featured Macbeth-allusions in The Tempest because he associated Prospero’s and Macbeth’s inner conflict. (7) Macbeth (yet again) Between lines 470 and 501 we appear to have a series of allusions to Macbeth: Prospero [to Ferdinand] Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak’st show, but dar’st not strike, thy conscience Is so possess’d with guilt. These terms—traitor, conscience, guilt—are not appropriate to Ferdinand; they bespeak Macbeth. The “sword” summons up the visionary dagger, and the passage with angry tone might have been spoken by Macduff. Prospero upbraids Miranda, “What! An advocate for an impostor!” This too makes little sense, save possibly spoken about Lady Macbeth as advocate for her impostor husband (usurper and “dwarfish thief” in “a giant’s robe”). Prospero responds to Miranda’s “I have no ambition to see a goodlier man,” with “Come on; obey: / Thy nerves are in their infancy again,” which certainly hints of,

Macb. Come, we’ll to sleep …

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

131

We are yet but young in deed. Macbeth says this when his nerves are out of joint after the banquet during which he says of the ghost, “Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves shall never tremble.” Prospero turns to Ariel, saying, “Thou shalt be as free / As mountain winds: but then exactly do / All points of my command.” Ariel answers in unmistakable Macbethese: To th’ syllable. (“To the last syllable of recorded time”, from Macbeth’s great nihilistic speech.) End of First Act. interesting mélange.

Parody, Satire, and Macbeth—an

Act II, scene 1 Gonzalo opens it, hinting of The Comedy of Errors: Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause So have we all, of joy; for our escape Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe Is common; every day, some sailor’s wife, The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, Have just our theme of woe. The inartistic repetition—“hint of woe”, “theme of woe”— may be excused, for shipwreck, escape, woe and woe may drily allude to the woeful Egeon-frame of The Comedy of Errors. That work, as The Tempest and Macbeth, involves a

132

The Tempest

dualism of Reason (or Clarity) versus Passion. This allusion, if we are right, continues the hints-for-former-plays game Shakespeare evidently plays in The Tempest. Macbeth plus Who-Knows-What Now, Antonio and Sebastian, pursuant to their Act I, sc.1 performance, act together in sarcastic harmony, commenting with the lowest possible comedy, much of which we find unintelligible, on the conversation around them. To quote snatches of it: Alonso. Prithee, peace. Seb. [Aside to Ant.] He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. [Aside to Seb.] The visitor will not give him o’er so. Seb. (Aside to Ant.) Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike. II.1.15 Gonzalo. When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d, Comes to th’ entertainer – Seb. A dollar. Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

133

Begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Ant. The cockerel. Gon. That our garment, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies? Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Such silly quipping, boorish and boring, casts aspersion not only on the two characters, Antonio and Sebastian, but on the author of the piece. This is not Shakespearean—unless he parodies romance ideas of “nobility” and/or mocks people he and his friends knew—and yet again there is Macbeth. Gonzalo’s mention of “garment” echoes Ariel’s earlier talk of unblemished garments (I.2.118). And quickly after Gonzalo’s reference, Antonio says, Look how well my garments sit upon me. (267) Without question this parodies Macduff’s “Lest our old robes sit easier than our new” (II.4.37), and the chain of garmentsreferences in The Tempest mimics the chain of garments-

134

The Tempest

references in Macbeth. “Look how well my garments sit upon me” from Antonio was designed to evoke Macbeth’s “giant’s robe upon a dwarfish thief”. The Tempest’s assassination-scene will bring us again to Macbeth. First, however, we must deal with the most badly written and atrocious dialogue in the whole Shakespearean canon, the benumbing, notorious saga of “widow Dido”. Widow Dido Antonio, Sebastian, Adrian, and Gonzalo, who starts it off: Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king’s fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. (II.1.74) Seb. ‘Twas a sweet marriage and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never grac’d before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon Not since widow Dido’s time. Ant. Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? widow Dido! Seb. What if he had said “widower Aeneas” too? Good Lord, how you take it!

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

135

Adr. “Widow Dido” said you? You make me study of that, she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage? Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Sep. He hath rais’d the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay.

136

The Tempest

Ant. Why, in good time … Etc., Etc. It’s ghastly. Parody and/or guess-the-allusion would seem to answer much of this puzzle. The difficulty is to figure out the nature of the banter. Some of it, I duly suspect, involves in-group mirth perhaps limited to Shakespeare’s intimates. Some of the fun may include a wider audience. The Arden editor comments: “Widow Dido was the widow of Sychaeus. She was perhaps not often thought of in this connection; hence, presumably, the merriment. There is some punning on Dido and Aeneas in Middleton’s The Roaring Girl (1607/8), III. ii. 69 ff (ed. Bullen) which turns on Dido—die, do; Aeneas—any ass.” [i.e. sexual punning] That, or something like that pertains to the problem. Let me attempt to answer what I can; later dialogue in the scene can confidently be explained as parody. Antonio and Sebastian act as a low sort of satyr chorus. They evidently serve to parody “Nobility.” There may be mocking imitations of one or more of Shakespeare’s acquaintances. Carthage-Tunis must parody something (or someone confused about them), I know not what; but harp-walls seems to take off on Ovid. “Only the walls of Thebes rose to the music of Amphion’s harp, but Gonzalo, by identifying Carthage with Tunis, fabricates a whole city. Cf. Ovid, Met. , VI. 178; Heroides, XVI. 179. (Luce.)” [Arden Tempest 47n] “He will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple” indeed parodies—and/or alludes to in the conjectured allusion-game)—Antony and Cleopatra:

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

137

Cleopatra. For his bounty, There was no winter in’t; an autumn ‘twas That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like: they show’d his back above The elements they liv’d in. In his livery Walk’d crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp’d from his pocket. V.2.92 Antonio takes off on Cleopatra’s “reaping” for his “And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.” Antonio and Sebastian mirror Cleopatra’s sexual implications (“dolphin-like … back above the elements they lived in”—“elements” referring to Cleopatra) beginning with “sowing” and “bring forth”. Then, Gon. Ay. Antonio may hear this as “I”. Ant. Why, in good time. Probably, to “I”, Antonio says (after “sowing”, “bring forth” = “breed”, “You will breed—have sexual intercourse—in time”. Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

138

The Tempest

Ant. And the rarest that e’er came there. Antonio has just played straightman to Sebastian who answers, Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Sebastian picks up on Antonio’s unintentional sexual pun, “came”. “Widow Dido”—widow, supposed to be chaste until remarrying—came there (had a sexual orgasm) before the present Queen came there. That sizes up widow Dido as best we can: mock-Roaring Girl, mock-Ovid, mock- (and/or referential) Antony and Cleopatra, then obscene punning for the, er, climax. After this, they immediately launch into another mock-Shakespearean exchange: Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish’d for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage? These would be drivel-lines if Shakespeare were not parodying and/or making playful allusions to Hamlet: Lord Hamlet with his doublet all unbrac’d

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

139

pictures Ophelia in the first scene of the Second Act. Gonzalo’s “in a sort” is excruciatingly awkward and wholly unnecessary. It seems to have one raison d’etre: to set up Antonio’s “sort … fish’d for”. “Sort”: Polonius says to his daughter in the same Act II, sc. 1: “It is common for the younger sort to lack discretion.” “Fish” has a sexual connotation, as in Hamlet’s calling Polonius a “fishmonger”, a panderer of his daughter who had best repair to a “nunnery”, with a second meaning of “brothel”. Sebastian says to Alonso after Francisco’s speech, Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather loose her to an African. That is Polonius’ “I’ll loose my daughter to him.” Thus so far we have had mock-Macbeth, mock-Comedy of Errors, mock-Antony and Cleopatra, and now mock-Hamlet on The Tempest’s Shakespearean agenda.

Mock-Heroic virtuoso The following passage is simply glorious!! (II.1.118ff) Alonso bemoans the loss of his son Ferdinand. Francisco responds in patent mock-heroic lyrics, sexual innuendo, and mimicry of Antony and Cleopatra and Julius Caesar. Francisco. Sir, he may live: I saw him best the surges under him,

140

The Tempest

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him, his bold head ‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To th’ shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bowed, As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt He came alive to land. “Ride upon their backs” appears to contemplate the previously quoted Cleopatra lines, “dolphin-like … they show’d his back above the elements they liv’d in,” but there surely seems to be something much lewder (and homosexual) as a double entendre. [Antonio at lines 134-35 strengthens the likelihood of A & C parody as he evidently alludes to Antony’s words regarding Octavia. Antonio: “The fair soul herself weigh’d between loathness and obedience, at which end o’th’ beam should bow”—a very obscene reference, one might add. Compare Antony’s poetic verses: “the swan’s down feather, that stands upon the swell at the full of tide, and neither way inclines” (III.2.50)] To continue, “he flung aside … in lusty stroke” has Ferdinand parody Caesar and Cassius’ adventure, “we did buffet it with lusty sinews, throwing it aside.” “His bold head” does not refer to the one atop his neck; that “oared himself … in lusty stroke” should not be explained in polite company, except to say that the motion which propels him would not be allowed in Olympic competition. “th’ shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bowed” images the shore as above him, hence appearing to him as if he were

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

141

below it, and so (I think) he moves along the water on his back; and “he came alive to land” suggests that Shakespeare was thinking of Marlowe‘s line in Hero and Leander when Leander undresses before diving into the Hellespont and proclaims, “Love, I come.” Shakespeare’s image here is too sensational to delineate more graphically. Assassination-scene and Macbeth-parody Everyone sleeps except Antonio and Sebastian. Ariel has brought on this situation. When Antonio says, “Nor I [am disposed to sleep]; my spirits are nimble” (II.1.206), Shakespeare playfully refers both to Ariel and to Puck of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. When Theseus in the opening scene calls, Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth, he prefigures the arrival of Puck as Antonio in The Tempest echoes the arrival of Ariel. The playwright evokes Puck again in Caliban’s speech of Act II, sc.2: They’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' th’ mire Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid em. (7) Robin Goodfellow was wont to “mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm.” (II.1.39) And again in the Fourth Act: Prospero. Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,

142

The Tempest

Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly! IV.1.57 Now begins the Macbethan parody of a regicidal conspiracy. For Shakespeare likened the scene to Macbeth, as Coleridge pointed out: “The scene of the intended assassination of Alonzo and Gonzalo is an exact counterpart of the scene between Macbeth and his lady, only pitched in a lower key throughout . . .” (Shakespearean Criticism. vol. 1, 121-2) For instance, Ant. My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. [the visionary dagger] A spoof of Lady Macbeth’s sleepwalking: Seb. What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb. I do; and surely It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving And yet so fast asleep.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

143

Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let’st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; Wink‘st Whiles thou art waking. Metaphoric burlesque: Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There’s meaning in thy snores. Seb. Well, I am standing water. (This prefigures Ariel’s “I left them / I’th’ filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, / There dancing up to th’ chins, that the foul lake / O’erstunk their feet”, and Trinculo’s “Monster, I do smell all horse piss.”—IV.1.184, 199) Ant. I’ll teach you how to flow. Seb. Do so: to ebb Hereditary sloth instructs me.

Ant. O, if you knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mock it! (Lady Macbeth: “Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valour, as thou art in desire?”)

144

The Tempest

Ant. Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run By their own fear or sloth. (“flow”, “ebb”, “sloth”, “ebbing men”, “the bottom”, “sloth” parodies—or refers to in an allusion-game —I Henry IV, “sloth” indicating Falstaff: Prince Hal: “The fortune of us that are the moon’s men doth ebb and flow like the sea … in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.” —I.2.36. [“Ebb” and “flow” in Antonio’s speech also have extremely lewd connotations. “Ebbing men” and “bottom” . . .!!] The flow of apparently inane verses continues: Ant. Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth’d hath here almost persuaded,— For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade,—the King his son’s alive, ‘Tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d As he that sleeps here swims. Seb. I have no hope That he’s undrown’d. [I doubt “undrown’d” sounded much better in Renaissance English than it does today.]

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

145

Ant. O, out of that “no hope” What great hope have you! No hope that way is … that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand drown’d? Therefore, within a space of some 40 lines (206-248) we have: sleepy, sleep, repose, asleep / standing, speaking, moving / asleep, sleep, wink’st, waking, snore, snores / standing water, flow, ebb, ebbing / remembrance, memory / persuaded, persuasion, persuade / undrown’d, sleeps, swims, undrown’d / no hope, hope, great hope, no hope, a hope / wink, drown’d. This is by no means vintage Shakespeare, but it is a teasing, toying, mirthful Shakespeare. A Performance Nonpareil Antonio and Sebastian turn their attention to Claribel, Queen of Tunis. After hyperbolic language stating that she lives conveniently far away, Shakespeare has Antonio conceal the import of the last four lines of his speech under the cloak of theatrical puns: She that from whom We all were sea-swallow’d though some cast again, And that by destiny, to perform an act Whereof what’s past is prologue; what to come, In yours and my discharge. Were that insufficiently prurient, Shakespeare compensates in the next ten lines. I shall intimate only that the theatrical puns

146

The Tempest

duly speak of the man’s part, then the author describes the woman’s part, and finally the two together.

More Macbeth, Sexual Quibbles, and Boredom Shakespeare’s parody of his own Macbeth tragedy proceeds: Ant. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. [Macb: “choughs, rooks …” ] O, that you bore The mind that I do! (i.e. boring!) (271) This seems to echo line 112, Alonso’s “You cram these words in to mine ears against the stomach of my sense,” and Alonso’s “thou dost talk nothing to me” in reply to Gonzalo’s “do you mark me, sir?” which echoes Prospero’s admonition to Miranda not to fall asleep. All these sentences imply what Antonio’s words say practically outright: “This is boring!” That would be Shakespeare’s jesting and true comment, were the dialogue taken seriously. Seb. I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True: And look how well my garments sit upon me. [Macbeth: “giant’s robe upon a dwarfish thief”, of course]

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

147

Seb. But for your conscience. [Macbeth’s] Ant. . . . twenty consciences that stand ‘twixt me and Milan . . . [suggesting Murderer’s “twenty trenched gashes” on Banquo’s head, and Macbeth’s “twenty mortal murthers on their crowns”—both from the Banquet-scene] Ant. Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever; [both lines, obscene double entendre] Seb. Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got’st Milan, I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest; And I the king shall love thee. [More sexual punning; “case” must mean the codpiece.] Ant. Draw together; And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb. O, but one word. [They talk apart.] Hardly realistic, this parodying delay gives Ariel an opportunity for a romance narrative’s just-in-the-nick-of-time

148

The Tempest

melodramatic rescue. Ariel immediately appears to validate this point: My master through his Art foresees the danger That you, his friends [Gonzalo] are in. Shakespeare seems to relate a pronounced parodying element to the creator’s art, hence—if we believe correctly—alluding to traditional romance writers’ lack of realism. Alonso awakens to say to the conspirators, “Why are you drawn?”—a sexual pun. (II.1.311) Sebastian answers, Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions, which drolly paraphrases Psalm 22, 12-13, “… bulls of Basan close me in … as it were a ramping and a roaring lion.” Act II, sc. 2. Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano meet up. Trinculo’s first speech has reminders of the Witches’ opening scene in Macbeth: “storm”, “foul”, “thunder”, “thunderbolt”, “(thunder)”, “storm”, “storm”. That the jester should be surrounded by paraphernalia of the Witches aptly emblemizes the parody of Macbeth presented by the Tempest. Trinculo’s words strongly imply that Caliban has something of a fish’s appearance (hence lechery): “What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? “A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like; a kind of, not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had this fish

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

149

painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg’d like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm o’ my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an islander.” We see an element of the Hamlet-Ophelia parody or allusion again: “loose my … ”, the fish-talk (as in Antonio’s “fish’d for” and Hamlet’s “fish-monger”), and “a kind of” perhaps again mimics Polonius “the younger sort”. Colonialism The bulk of this second scene of the Second Act involves a parody and satire on Colonialism: the noble and ignoble savage, and the exploitation-racism syndrome associated with European colonialism in the New World. Trinculo’s speech exudes satiric comment, and let us quote some other pertinent verses. Stephano. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that hath him and that soundly. (78) Caliban (Aside). That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him. (123) I’ll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject. Hast thou not dropp’d from heaven?

150

The Tempest

Ste. Out o’ the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i’ th’ moon when time was. (143) Prince-carrying-logs Act III, scene 1. The scene opens before Prospero’s cell, Ferdinand bearing a log. Ferdinand’s initial line mimics words of Macbeth: Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off. Macb. The labour we delight in physics pain. II.3.49 The log-motif of the play, first Caliban and now Ferdinand, parodies the traditional motif in romance and folk literature of the prince-carrying-logs. After all, why the incessant need for fuel? Montaigne specifies a “temperate” clime, and the location of the island in the “Bermoothes” (I.2.229), probably Bermudas, precludes any such necessity. Are we amused without the playwright’s authority to find the prince and “romantic lead” of the comedy doing Caliban’s work? But we are indeed authorized to chuckle at Ferdinand pressed to lug and pile “some thousands” (III.I.10) of logs before sundown to meet the “sore injunction” of Ben Jonson’s Unities of time and place.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

151

The Unities of time and place Renaissance theorists, in the name of Aristotle, insisted upon conditions for a play which he did not. Shakespeare adheres to the Unities in The Tempest as he did only once before, in The Comedy of Errors. I submit that Shakespeare was jesting about the unities and his friend Ben Jonson’s reverence for them. Thus, Ferdinand. I must remove Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction…. O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do. (10, 23) The sexual pun in Ferdinand’s speech adds to the probability that the playwright was joking about this matter. Ferdinand and Miranda: bawdry and parody Shakespeare also makes this scene parody romance literature and its lustless lovers. The total debunking of pristine Miranda, which the author initiated with Prospero’s echoing of Gonzalo‘s ribald “wench”, occurs here in III.1. Ferdinand as the honorable Prince Charming joins her in diminishment. Ferdinand’s first words to Miranda in the scene echo Antonio’s (II.I.249) erotic “discharge”: Fer. O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.

152

The Tempest

Prospero will warn him against said “discharge” [i.e. not before the sanction of marriage], and a Betrothal-Chastity masque will be performed on this account. Ferdinand speaks of women he has known and of unchaste adventures with the phrase, And put it to the foil. (45) Miranda speaks of her own innocence: I do not know One of my sex; no woman’s face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men than you, good friend, And my dear father: how features are abroad, I am skilless of; but, by my modesty, The jewel in my dower . . . Shakespeare’s Jacobean audience knew well enough that the “jewel” in her “dower” was not “modesty” but something quite a bit different. Prospero (At a distance, unseen). Fair encounters Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between ‘em! Fer. Wherefore weep you? Mir. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

153

And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me plain and holy innocence! I am your wife if you will marry me; If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant, Whether you will or no. Miranda has just delivered a masterpiece of pornography. To begin with, “die”, as you well know by now, signifies a sexual orgasm. “This” and “it”, when in the form of “bigger bulk”, will cause her to “die”. (“Bigger bulk” has a secondary meaning of pregnancy. The non-sexual import—her sentiment—finishes a distant third in significance.) When Miranda says she will “die his maid”, it means she will have sex with him even if they do not marry. In short, Miranda is a parody of a pure-and-innocent girl of nature, a mockery of romance heroines. Shakespeare had already, not long since, given us the true ideal in Perdita of The Winter’s Tale. Miranda is something of a sham, but not an unlikeable one. Masque of Chastity Act IV, scene 1 continues the sexual theme with a classicalstyle Masque of Chastity. As a prelude, Prospero warns Ferdinand not to “break her virgin-knot before all sanctimonious ceremonies may with full and holy rite be minister’d.” The innocent spirit Ariel seems to comment wryly on such a sanctimonious theme when he answers Prospero’s call: What would my potent master? when he promises to hurry about his mission,

154

The Tempest

Before you can say “come,” and “go”, and when Prospero tells him not to approach till called, Well, I conceive. [Exit. Ariel hereby restates, though more succinctly, Miranda’s projected ‘encounter’, which likewise will end in “bigger bulk” conception. Macbeth again III.3. Ariel has appeared and vanished as a Harpy, and Shapes enter dancing and moaning. With this as a background, one recalls Lady Macbeth’s invocation to dark spirits when Prospero says, With good life And observation strange, my meaner ministers (87) [Lady Macbeth: “You murth‘ring ministers”] Their several kinds have done. My high charms work, And these mine enemies are all knit up In their distractions. [Macbeth’s distracted mind wants “sleep that knits up the ravel’d sleave of care”.] Alonso. My son i’ th’ ooze is bedded. (100) Gonzalo. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after,

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

155

Now ‘gins to bite the spirits. (106) [Macbeth: “This even-handed justice [for his great guilt] commends th’ ingredience of our poison’d chalice to our own lips.”] In IV.1, the buffoonish assassins Stefano and Trinculo, dressed in their newly appropriated wardrobe, are chased by “divers Spirits, in shape of dogs and hounds, hunting them about.” This Clothes-scene echoes Prospero’s “mine enemies are all knit up in their distractions.” It might also perhaps evoke a Macbeth, wearing the “giant’s robe” on his “dwarfish” form, hounded by the furies of his conscience. “Insubstantial Pageant”-speech Act IV, scene 1 Prospero. Like the baseless fabric of this vision. The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe [his Globe theatre as well as planet] itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. [a beautiful, beautiful verse] Sir, I am vex’d; Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled. (159)

156

The Tempest

Shakespeare’s marvelous Insubstantial Pageant philosophic speech reminds of Macbeth’s marvelous Life-as-a-Shadow nihilistic dirge. The Classical Dichotomy Act V, scene 1. Prospero sounds the explicitly Platonic theme of Reason versus Passion, specifying Virtue against Vengeance: Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th’ quick, Yet with my nobler reason ‘gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance. (28) Prospero speaks to his treacherous brother Antonio in Macbethan terms: Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain’d ambition, Expell’d remorse and nature; whom, with Sebastian,— Whose inward pinches therefor are most strong,— Would have kill’d your King; I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art. (80) [Macbeth’s “vaulting ambition” which prompted him to expel his good nature (“milk of human kindness”) and conscience, leading to the “unnatural”—symbolized by the carnivoroushorses imagery—act of killing King Duncan.] Reason has failed Macbeth in his struggle with his Passions. But to Prospero belongs that inner victory.

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

157

Chess Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda “playing at chess”. Mir. Sweet lord, you play me false. Fer. No, my dearest love. I would not for the world. Mir. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, And I would call it fair play. (174) Whatever Miranda’s somewhat ambiguous but disingenuous words signify, the game and her talk separate this Miranda from the “O the heavens!”, “Alack, for pity!”, “How came we ashore?” girl of only a few hours ago. One might believe Shakespeare intended this chess tableau, in one sense at least, to be mock-aristocratic and another parody of a romantic literary heroine. The essential incongruity is of a difficult-to-master, aristocratic game being played in primitive surroundings by an innocent girl of nature; a country girl who has not seen “more than I may call men than you, good friend, and my dear father”, yet engages in the art of courtly love. Shakespeare would thus convey in his overall Mirandacharacter, a sex-obsessed, sophisticated woman-of-the-world in the guise of a pure, native and natural girl of a Montaigne utopia.

158

The Tempest

Prospero’s Epilogue: [Shakespeare’s Farewell-speech] Now my charms are all o’erthrown, And what strength I have’s mine own, Which is most faint…. Release me from my bands With the help of your good hands; Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please. Now I want Spirits to enforce, Art to enchant; And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev’d by prayer, Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon’d be, Let your indulgence set me free. [Exit. A common sentiment, shared by your author, has this speech represent Shakespeare’s farewell to the world of drama. The force of the language argues the interpretation. The speech indeed sounds too serious in a play brimming with parody, sexual innuendo, and burlesquing drunkenness not to hint of something extratextual. If there were contemporary personal allusions in the play, then this would surely be one of them. Possibly Prospero’s Platonic dichotomy was Shakespeare’s inner tension (which it is for all of us, comprehended or not), and he felt now his victory or his determined aim. Earlier, Prospero declared,

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

159

I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book. V.1.57 Before that, Caliban said, “Burn but his books,” (III.2.90), all of which adds up to Marlowe Faustus’ last line, I’ll burn my books. Faustus, however, spoke with desperation. Prospero adopts the resigned tone of Chaucer’s “Envoy to Scrogan”: Ne thynke I never of slep to wake my muse That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees.

IX.

THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN [BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND JOHN FLETCHER]

The Two Noble Kinsmen is a smiling, laughing comedy from beginning to end in a sparkling, spoofing style—pure blarney. It is not a "tragicomedy" or "romance" as commonly designated, but a jolly parody—exaggerated, extravagant, flamboyant, mock-heroic, mock-romantic, mock-tragic, everso-nicely mock-Hamlet (especially mock-Ophelia), and not a serious stitch in it anywhere you look. Non-stop joshing, smooth, flitting and delightful, this play—underrated as they come due to misinterpretation— belongs in the upper echelon of most any list of light comedies. The plot takes off on the ideal-male-friendship theme, like The Two Gentlemen of Verona whose title Shakespeare and his collaborator John Fletcher very probably had in mind when entitling 2NK. And the co-authors specifically parody the sworn-friendship-and-demise-thereof found in Chaucer's story of Arcite and Palamon, “The Knight's Tale”. In quick summary of our play, two knightly refugees from vanquished Thebes, Arcite and Palamon, are perfect friends. Until they catch a glimpse of Emilia, that is, after which they try to kill each other. They have a showdown joust, the winner to get Emilia and the loser to be led off to execution. The winner, Arcite, displays additional military prowess by falling off his horse while wearing the victory wreath. The horse falls

162

The Two Noble Kinsmen

on top of him and he dies. Before expiring, he awards Emilia to his former friend. Note: Chaucer's story contains delightful parody, and may well have sparked the original idea to Shakespeare or Fletcher for a frolicsome takeoff on the whole piece. The fundamental notion of sworn friends, both high-born knights actually related by blood, suddenly becoming dire and deadly enemies upon mere sight of a maid, implies comical mockery. That each insists he loves and "serves” the maid Emilia, to whom neither has ever spoken, further mocks the chivalry and courtly love ideals. Chaucer's parody is rather gentle: the basic plot incongruity, the rhyme, plus the occasional parodying line or event convey an incessant, lightly mocking tone. An instance of blatant comic mockery occurs in the denouement when the victorious Arcite, to “show his face” to the applauding multitude, rides around the field and proceeds to fall off his horse. Chaucer has Arcite fall on his head; Shakespeare and Fletcher have the horse fall on him. Either way, we have an ironically humorous account. Shakespeare and Fletcher will take Chaucer's lightly ironic tale and exaggerate everything. They invent the Ophelian Jailor's Daughter and various comic situations which bring their parody oft-times to the verge of burlesque. A few examples will suffice. Once you see what the authors are up to, you will love reading the play. (a) Shakespeare's First Queen. He [“cruel Creon”, king of Thebes] will not suffer us to burn their bones, To urn their ashes, nor to take th'offence Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

163

Of holy Phoebus, but infects the winds With stench of our slain lords. I.1.47 Or, Second Queen [to Hippolyta, wife of Duke Theseus]. Lend us a knee: But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a dove's motion when the head's plucked off. Tell him, if he i'th' blood-sized field lay swoll'n, Showing the sun his teeth grinning at the moon, What you would do. Mournful wives do not generally use such terminology with regard to their departed beloveds. Grotesque humor we find here. (b) Ideal Friendship. Act II, scene 1. Theseus has the two devoted friends put in prison where the Jailor's Daughter comments, somewhat grandly for the circumstances though quite commonly for this play: The prison is proud of 'em, and they have all the world in their chamber. (25) They echo her lofty observation: Palamon. Two souls Put in two noble bodies, let ‘em suffer The gall of hazard, so they grow together, Will never sink.

164

The Two Noble Kinsmen

II.2.68 Arcite. Here being thus together, We are an endless mine to one another. They go on and on in this vein, capping it with 'famous last words': Palamon. I do not think our friendship Should ever leave us. Arcite. Till our deaths it cannot. [Enter Emelia and her women (below). Palamon sees Emelia and is silent.] That spells the end of their ideal friendship. Almost instantly will they be at each other's throats: Palamon. I shall live To knock thy brains out with my shackles. Notice the grandiose buildup, then the popping deflation without a semblance of realism. Shakespeare used the same parodying technique with Eglamour in The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Another chivalrous knight was he. (c) The Jailor's Daughter too is love-struck, and has lines such as, Once he kissed me—

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

165

I loved my lips the better ten days after. This was her style of talk while she was sane. Now some Hamlet: Wooer [to Jailor]. Alas, sir, where's your daughter? IV.1.32 (Hamlet to Polonius: “Have you a daughter?” Hamlet to Ophelia: “Where's your father?”) The Wooer then alludes to Ophelia with an entire spoofing speech on the Ophelia-syndrome's singing, madness, eroticism, father's burial, flowers, willow tree, mermaid, and drowning pool. As per the Wooer's narrative (for the record, he woos the Jailor's Daughter, not the Jailor), the Jailor's Daughter (like Ophelia) goes mad, and (like Ophelia) Freudian slips her way through verses such as, I must lose my maidenhead by cocklight, 'Twill never thrive else. (113) and (IV.3.52), one cries, 'O that ever I did it behind the arras!" That is a very clever line. Recall that Ophelia's father Polonius was behind the arras when Hamlet skewered him. (d) The doctor who arrives to examine the Jailor's crazy nymphOpheliac daughter delivers a diagnostic oration in

166

The Two Noble Kinsmen

language no doctor on this earth has used, except possibly Rabelais: Doctor. That intemperate surfeit of her eye hath distempered the other senses. They may return and settle again to execute their preordained faculties, but they are now in a most extravagant vagary. (e) The denouement: Arcite, wearing the garland of victory and seated upon his prancing horse while pal Palamon's head is on the block, finds “boist'rous and rough jad'ry” seeking to "disseat his lord": Arcite's legs, being higher than his head, Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor's wreath Even then fell off his head, and presently Backward the jade comes o'er and his full poise Becomes the rider's load. V.6.82 “His full poise becomes the rider's load”: Oh, I like that. (f) Theseus has the last speech of the play. Given the many marvels of the combat and its aftermath, he speaks in the mode of a mock-marvel deadpan: Theseus. O you heavenly charmers, What things you make of us!

CONCLUSION

This study hopes to have fairly well indicated the full comic genius of William Shakespeare, especially his fabulous gift for parody. All's Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure, and The Two Noble Kinsmen are splendid comedies. The first two are decidedly not "problem plays", but tour de force satire and parody, respectively. 2NK is anything but an ordinary romance comedy. Cymbeline fares considerably better than acknowledged; and The Two Gentlemen of Verona happens not to be marred by the Valentine and Eglamour episodes, but merrily enhanced by them. As for Prince Hal, now Henry V, the monarch is by no means a bloodthirsty barbarian at the walls of Harfleur. He is Tamburlaine in comic disguise. P.S. Jacobean "tragedy" must be re-evaluated, and raised upon a deserving pedestal. All those fine humorous playwrights have been virtually ignored because critics of Renaissance literature have lacked the acumen and sense of humor so heartily displayed by those double-dealing Renaissance talents.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Baldwin, T.W. William Shakspere's Small Latine & Lesse Greeke. 2 vols. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 1944 Barish, Jonas A, ed. Ben Jonson: A Collection of Critical Essays. Twentieth Century View Series. New Delhi: Prentice-Hall of India, 1980 Barker, Simon. Shakespeare’s Problem Plays: All’s Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure, Troilus and Cressida. Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005 Bradbrook, M.C. Shakespeare: The Poet in his World. London: Methuen, 1980 Bradley, A.C. Shakespearean Tragedy. 1904. New York: St. Martin 's, 1969 Brandes, George. William Shakespeare: A Critical Study. 2 vols. London: Heinemann, 1893 Brockett, Oscar G. History of the Theatre. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1968 Bullough, Goeffrey, ed. Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare. 8 vols. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1957-75 Butcher, S.H, ed. Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art. 1951. London: Dover, 1962 Chambers, E.K. The Elizabethan Stage. 4 vols. 1923. Oxford: Clarendon, 1945 Charleton, H.B. Shakespearian Tragedy. Cambridge: UP, 1952 Clark, Ira. “The Trappings of All’s Well That Ends Well”. Style 39 (2005): 277-98

170

Bibliography

—. Rhetorical Readings, Dark Comedies, and Shakespeare’s Problem Plays. Gainesville: U of Florida P, 2007 Clemen, Wolfgang H. The Development of Shakespeare's Imagery. 1951. London: Methuen, 1969 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. Shakespearean Criticism. 2 vols. Thomas Middleton Rayce, ed. (1907; London: Dent, 1961) 1: 121-2 Crane, Mary Thomas. "The Shakespearean Tetralogy". Shakespeare Quarterly 36 (1985): 282-99 Cunningham, Dolora. "The Jonsonian Masque as a Literary Form". Ben Jonson: A Collection of Critical Essays. Twentieth Century View Series. Jonas A. Barish, ed. New Delhi: Prentice-Hall of India, 1980 Edwards, Philip, ed. William Shakespeare. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. The New Clarendon Shakespeare. Cambridge: UP. 1985 Eliot, T.S. Elizabethan Dramatists. London: Methuen, 1981 Ellis-Fermor, Una. Shakespeare's Drama. London: Faber, 1981 Erickson, Carolly. The First Elizabeth. London: Macmillan, 1983 Evans, G. Blakemore, textual ed. The Riverside Shakespeare. Boston: Houghton, 1974 Goldsmith, Robert H. Wise Fools in Shakespeare. East Lansing: Michigan State UP, 1955 Gomme, A.H., ed. Jacobean Tragedies. Oxford: UP, 1986 Granville-Barker, Harley. Prefaces to Shakespeare. 5 vols. London: Sidgwick, 1948 Harbage, Alfred, ed. The Complete Pelican Shakespeare. New York: Viking, 1977 Hazlitt, Walter. The Round Table: Characters of Shakespeare's Plays. London: Dent, 1957 Herford, C.H. and Percy Simpson, eds. Ben Jonson: The Man and his Work. 2 vols. 1924- 25. Oxford: Clarendon, 1974

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

171

Herrick, Marvin T. Italian Tragedy in the Renaissance. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 1965 Highet, Gilbert. The Classical Tradition: Greek and Roman Influence on Western Literature. London: Oxford UP, 1971 Hillman, Richard. William Shakespeare: The Problem Plays. New York: Twayne, 1993 Holinshed, Raphael. Chronicles. (The Chronicles of England, Scotland and Ireland). first published in 1577; Shakespeare used the revised edition of 1587.) Jones, Emrys. The Origins of Shakespeare. Oxford: Clarendon, 1979 Kermode, Frank, ed. William Shakespeare. The Tempest. The Arden Shakespeare. London: Methuen, 1963 Knight, G. Wilson. The Wheel of Fire. London: Methuen, 1949 Lawrence, William Witherle. Shakespeare's Problem Comedies. Middlesex: Penguin, 1969 Marlowe, Christopher. The Complete Plays. J.B. Steane, ed. London: Penguin, 1988 Marsh, Nicholas. Shakespeare: Three Problem Plays. Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003 Martindale, Charles and Michelle. Shakespeare and the Uses of Antiquity. London: Routledge, 1990 Martindale, Charles; Taylor, A.B., eds. Shakespeare and the Classics. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge UP, 2004 McDonough, Christopher M. “‘A mere scutcheon: Falstaff as Rhipsaspis”. In: Notes and Queries 55 (2008): 181-83 Mowatt, Barbara A. “Shakespearean Tragicomedy.” In: Maguire, Nancy Klein. Renaissance Tragicomedy: Explorations in Genre and Politics. New York: AMS Press, 1987 Muir, Kenneth. Shakespeare's Sources. (I) Comedies and Tragedies. London: Methuen, 1957

172

Bibliography

Nicoll, Allerdyce and Josephine, eds. Holinshed's Chronicles as used in Shakespeare's Plays. 1927. London: Dent, 1963 Pollard, Tanya. “Romancing the Greeks: Cymbeline Genres and Models”. In: Maguire, Laurie. How to Do Things with Shakespeare: New Approaches, New Essays. Malden, MA and Oxford: Blackwell, 2008: 34-53 Raleigh, Walter Alexander, ed. Shakespeare's England. Oxford: Clarendon, 1916 Reese, M.M. Shakespeare: His World and His Work. Rev. ed. London: Edward Arnold, 1980 Ridley, M.R. Marlowe's Plays and Poems. 1955. London: Dent, 1967 Rouse, W.H.D., ed. "Shakespeare's Ovid": The Metamorphoses. London: Centaur, 1961 Saintsbury, George. A History of Elizabethan Literature. London: Macmillan, 1905 Satin, Joseph. Shakespeare and His Sources. Boston: Houghton, 1966 Scragg, Leah. "Iago—Vice or Devil?" Shakespeare Survey 21, (1968): 53-65 Shakespeare, William. The Complete Works. Ed: Peter Alexander. London: Collins, 1979 Spurgeon, Caroline F.E. Shakespeare’s Imagery. 1935. Cambridge UP: 1979 Tillyard, E.M.W. Shakespeare’s History Plays. Middlesex: Penguin, 1969 Vivian, Thomas. The Moral Universe of Shakespeare’s Problem Plays. Totowa, NJ: Barnes and Noble, 1987 Wasserman, Rosanne. “Falstaff and Father Silen”. In Hellas: A Journal of Poetry and the Humanities 4, no. 1 (1993): 33-55 Wilson, F.F. The English Drama 1485-1585. Oxford: Clarendon, 1969

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

173

Yachnin, Paul. “Shakespeare’s Problem Plays and the Drama of His Time: Troilus and Cressida, All’s Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure.” In: Dutton, Richard and Howard, Jean E., eds. A Companion to Shakespeare’s Works, 4 vols. Malden, MA and Oxford: Blackwell, 2003

INDEX

All’s Well That Ends Well, a satire, Introduction, 1; one of Shakespeare’s finest comedies deemed one of worst by critics, 5; as satire, 37-38; dramatis personae, 38-40; running commentary on text and its double meanings, especially sexual innuendo, 40-71; speculation on link between Bertram-character and Shakespeare’s patron, Southampton; and Helena-character as possibly “the dark lady” of the Sonnets, 72 Atheist’s Tragedy, The (Cyril Tourneur), as parody, sexual innuendo, 18-19; mock-Hamlet, 20-24; mock-Romeo and Juliet, 24 Bussy D’Ambois (George Chapman), as mock-heroic comedy, sexual quibbling, 28-30; mock-Falstaff, 30 Cymbeline, as subtle parody, 6-7, 98ff; Posthumus Leonatus’ name derivation and Thermopylae, 97-98; George Bernard Shaw’s acid criticism of, 98-99; deus ex machina, 99-100; Recognitions scene, 102; Othello parody, 102-3; Imogen’s sexual quibbling, 103-4; mock-tragedy, 104-5; mocking folk-tale foundling motif, 105-6 Henry V, 5-6; parodying Marlowe’s Tamburlaine, 110111, 113-116; mock-heroic, 111-112; simultaneous Henry V and Richard II parody, 112-113; Falstaff/Socrates deathbed-parody, 113; Ivan the Terrible as a Marlovian source for Tamburlaine, proposed marriage to Queen

176

Index

Elizabeth, 116-7 Henry VI, Part I, element of parody, 5 Jacobean ‘Tragedy’, 3-4; including double-dealing plays (parodies): The Malcontent, The Revenger’s Tragedy, The Atheist’s Tragedy, The White Devil, Bussy D’Ambois, 7-30 Malcontent, The (John Marston), parody, sexual quibbles, 8-11; mock-Hamlet, 11 Measure for Measure, a parody, one of Shakespeare’s finest comedies deemed one of the worst by critics, 5; deceptive finale, 5; Appearance (plot and characters as appear on the surface), 73-74; literary criticism, 75; parody, including explanation of pivotal “die” sexual quibble, 75-76; running commentary of this parody/spoof, 77-94; “bedroom”-scene involving Angelo, Isabella and the fantastik, Lucio, 77-80; headsexual quibble, 83-84; Isabella-Claudio prison-scene, 87-92, including the sensational takeoff on Hamlet’s “To be, or not to be”-speech, specifically parodying ‘the undiscovered country’ Parody, Introduction, 1; and examples found virtually throughout remainder of Shakespeare’s Double-Dealing Comedies, excepting the satirical All’s Well That Ends Well, 37-72 Revenger’s Tragedy, The (Thomas Middleton), a parody, mock-tragedy, name-symbolism à la Ben Jonson’s Volpone, 12; sexual innuendo, 12-14, 18; mock-Hamlet, 13-17 Romeo and Juliet, mechanicals’ parody of in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 7

Shakespeare's Double-Dealing Comedies

177

Satire, Introduction, 1; All’s Well That Ends Well, 37-72, on Colonialism in The Tempest, 120, 149-150 Tempest, The, running commentary of parody (especially mock-Macbeth), allusions to Shakespearean plays, guess-the-allusion game, 121-159; satire on Colonialism, 120, 149-150; glorious mock-heroic, sexually-suggestive description of Ferdinand swimming to shore, 139-141; jesting about Unities of time and place, 151; Ferdinand and Miranda: bawdry and parody, 151-3; Prospero the sorcerer’s self-conquest, 119, 156-7; Prospero’s epilogue and Shakespeare’s farewell to the stage, 158-9 Two Gentlemen of Verona, The, elements of parody: Valentine’s ‘gift’ (to Silvia’s aspiring rapist); and of the ‘chivalrous’ knight Eglamour, 3, 5-6; literary criticism, 31; parody of ideal-male-friendship, 31-34; parody of chivalry and gallant knights, 34-35 Two Noble Kinsmen, The, parody, 5-6; parody of idealmale-friendship theme, specifically caricaturing Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale, 161-165; mock-Ophelia (the Jailor’s Daughter), 164-5; parodying denouement of Arcite falling off his horse, 166; mock-marvel finale, 166 White Devil, The (John Webster), parody; sexual innuendo, 26; mock-Hamlet, 26-27