England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself,
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughtered his own son,
The son, compelled, been butcher to the sire;
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division,

O! now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together;
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be so)
Enrich the time to come with smoothfaced peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days."

In the fact of Richard, who had so elaborately deceived Lady Anne, being in turn deceived by Queen Elizabeth, we should perceive the hand of retributive Justice; and again concede to the poet the triumph of his dramatic skill. The whole scene is formed on the model of Greek tragedy; the long speech of Richard, and the line-by-line colloquy with which it is succeeded, are exact imitations of Sophocles. Another proof, that if Shakspere departed from classical models, it was not from ignorance. The scene that follows, showing an incipient distraction in Richard's mind, is after a more romantic model, and full of modern stage-effects. Of so composite a type are the greater manifestations of Shakspere's genius. Altogether this is a wonderful act.

The concluding scenes are all action. The wheels of the chariot of destiny quicken in their motion; and self-willed ambition, however strong in courage and resolve, must yield to the predestined fate. Moral and physical laws coöperate against the presumptuous mortal who would act independently of both. Different as they are in their conditions, one of them acting

The Justice of Providence.

139

as freely as the other necessarily, the end of their mutual working is equally certain; there is no possible difference in the result. In the arrival of this result, the poet is anxious to vindicate the justice of heaven, not only in the case of Richard, but that of others. Buckingham, for instance, is made to confess it in the doom that falls on himself:

"This is the day, which, in King Edward's time,

I wished might fall on me, when I was found
False to his children, or his wife's allies:
This is the day, wherein I wished to fall

By the false faith of him whom most I trusted:
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is the determined respite of my wrongs.
That high All-Seer, which I dallied with,
Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begged in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms."

Such was the theology of Shakspere,—such his view of the moral government of the world; partly as the teaching of that Bible with which he and his age had happily become acquainted, and partly of that philosophy which they both had the honour of inaugurating. Of that Providence which so commends the ingredients of the poisoned chalice" to the lips of the treacherous guilty, Henry Earl of Richmond appears on the scene as the appointed agent, whose mission it is to exterminate from the land

That spoiled your summer fields and fruitful vines,
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowelled bosoms."

Yes; he, even he, is engaged for the destruction of

this "foul swine:" but Richard is still hopeful, and looks forward unto "to-morrow, as a busy day;" nevertheless, his wonted alacrity and cheer of mind forsake him ere he finally retires to rest. On the other hand, Richmond is full of confidence in Heaven and the goodness of his cause. And now both are sleeping in their tents; between which arise the shadows of Prince Edward, King Henry, the Duke of Clarence, Hastings, the two young princes, Queen Anne, and Buckingham-like Powers of the Invisible World— who pronounce a curse on Richard, and a blessing on Richmond. The immortality of the soul is not only a truth, but gives to the murdered an advantage over the assassin, who can injure them no longer, while they have the privilege of arming Justice by their prayers against “the bloody and the guilty," and in favour of the injured:

"Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls
Of butchered princes fight in thy behalf."

And the end is, as the Immortalities would have it:

"God and good Angels fight on Richmond's side,
And Richard falls in height of all his pride."

Indignation is awakened when we recollect that a poem like this, on which the greatest genius of the world has literally poured out the magnificence of his soul, should have been treated by sciolists and shallow playwrights as a mere chaos, from the matrix of which an easily acted drama might be dug, and not as already a drama perfect in design and finish. But such is the case, and the shrunk and supplemented product

The Tragedy of King John.

141

has usurped the stage, and engrossed the services of actors who have, nevertheless, pretended loyalty to Shakspere's sovereignty. Herein they have merely consulted their convenience, by reducing the mighty work of the master dramatist within the limitations of their own meaner powers. And they have been enabled to do this, because there is no public authority to control such base proceedings, and public taste had not yet been sufficiently educated to refuse its patronage to such desecration, or even to know that such a crime had been committed. An age is coming, when knowledge, thoroughly imparted to the people, shall render such guilt impossible, and secure to genius the claims which never should have been questioned--the rights which to violate is the grossest impiety-the most awful sacrilege.

Having now so definitively realised the consummation of a long series of events, part of which he had also dealt with in other plays, it was natural that Shakspere should look back to the original movement out of which they proceeded. Richard II. has already instanced the interest which he took in the Plantagenet line of the monarchs of England, followed as it had been by the houses of Lancaster, of York, and of Tudor. He wished to trace these developments to their germ. He seems, however, to have avoided touching on the difficulties between Church and State, and preferred to take a little later period, when the question confined itself more exclusively to state conditions. Passing, therefore, over the reigns of Henry II. and Richard Cœur de Lion, he fixed on

that of King John. Already on that subject was a play* existing; and, temporarily exhausted with the prodigious effort which it evidently cost him to throw out with such titanic force and vigour the tragedy of Richard III., Shakspere was willing to avail himself of a predecessor's labour. Taking the outline and body of the old play, he was content with amending and condensing its contents, and with interposing some glowing poetic speeches, thus adding to its effect, and stamping a value on it which otherwise it would not have possessed. It is curious that in this old play, as in Shakspere's adaptation, there is no mention of Magna Charta; nor does Shakspere himself appear to have consulted Holinshed's Chronicles, in order to correct the details in the drama. The barons, indeed, in the older drama, are exhibited as in arms against the king; but the cause of their rebellion is not clearly explained, whether in defence of their own liberties, or as partisans of France and supporters of the Pope. Shakspere gave to them a more definite action, connected with John's conduct toward Prince Arthur. He did not, however, altogether neglect the papal influence, but portrayed it as a kind of destiny hovering in the background, and occasionally interfering with international relations.

This old play is in two parts, and thus entitled: "The troublesome Raigne of John King of England, with the Discoverie of King Richard Cordelion's base Sonne (vulgarly named the Bastard Fauconbridge); also, the Death of King John at Swinstead Abbey" (1591). There is a still older drama by Bishop Bale; but his Kynge John appears not to have been known either by Shakspere, or the author of "The troublesome Raigne."