love-faith; he is himself a type of his creed; he is a | ently is he drawn, that he passes for a gallant young worshipper in the spirit of the worship he avers to be the true one. In extreme contrast with these lovers, who all, more or less, smack of the simplicity and "service of the antique world," we have the conventional, the calculating, the worldly-minded Claudio in MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING-emphatically a man of the world. He is profoundly selfish, essentially self-seeking. His friend is a prince; and-as we find him exerting himself to win the liking and patronage of this worthy gentleman, this influential and potential, as well as agreeable personage,-we are led to believe, from what we know of his character, that he has sought this friendship much in the spirit in which the wittiest writer of our own day recommends the choice of a friend to be made. He says:-"Choose your friend as you would choose an orange; for his golden outside, and the promise of yielding much when well squeezed." From all that we find actuating Claudio in his choice of a wife, we may conclude this to be pretty much his motive in attaching himself to his friend, the prince, Don Pedro. The first question he asks respecting the lady,—after, by the way, telling the prince he may do him a favour :- My liege, your highness now may do me good,”—is an indirect one; but its import is revealed by the reply. soldier, a pleasant companion, a gentleman, and a LOVER! We are made to hear of his bravery in the wars, we are made to see that his friends like him, and we find him polished in manner and accomplished in speech. But on scrutinising his character, we discover his nature to be radically mean and selfish. There are those who will think that Claudio, shown to be this, can be no lover; and, therefore, not qualified to come under the category of character we are at present discussing. But he ranks as a lover in the play; and is, iu fact, a type of a large class of men who rank as lovers in the world. He loves the woman for his own sake, not for hers; for what she is worth to him, uot for what she is herself. He was precisely the sort of man to act as Shakspeare has made him act, in the plot he had chosen; he fashioned him expressly for the purpose. No other than such a man as he has drawn Claudio, would have been so ready to give credence to the slander brought against his mistress. No nature less base and ungenerous than his, could have played off a hoarded revenge against the woman he had once thought to make his wife. We may here observe, that in such individual delineation, in such. harmonious appropriateness of character as this, it is that Shakspeare transcends—as in all elsc-every dramatic competitor. A modern dramatist has made his plot turn upon a similar hoarded revenge. But his "Claudio. Hath Leonato any son, my lord? "D. Pedro. No child but Hero. She's has only heir. hero-lover is represented as magnanimous, intelDost thou affect her, Claudio?" On receiving this exceedingly satisfactory assurance, the young count proceeds to state in a gentlemanly, easy, self-complacent way, that he thinks she would suit him, and that he should like to have her. The speech is full of Shakspeare's elegance of diction, but it is instinct with the spirit of self and self-interest, which is Claudio's characteristic. There is also subtle indication of this young gentleman's habit of making use of his friend, in the prince's next rejoinder : "If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it; Claudio answers with more of his elegant words, couching more of his worldly-wise and selfish strategy: "How sweetly do you minister to love, That know love's grief by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would have salved it with a longer treatise.” However, he at once accepts his friend's offer of asking the lady for him, knowing that the advocacy of a prince will be no bad thing in helping him to obtain the governor of Messina's daughter; and then, his next act is to suspect this very friend of playing him false, by endeavouring to obtain Hero for himself. It is marvellous how consistently the poet has drawn this character of Claudio. He has made him throughout a heartless fellow, with a constant eye to his own advantage; and yet so artistically as well as consist lectually-gifted, of a high moral nature,—and yet capable of such an act! Claudio is mean-souled, selfish, and a mere soldier in mind, though elegant and gentlemanly in manner; therefore from him comes but fittingly such a course of action. It is singularly in confirmation of the view we have taken of Claudio's character, that he is even more prompt than his frieud to believe Hero's alleged disloyalty. His exclamation this be so ?" While the prince exclaims, confidently, at once admits the possibility of her frailty;—" May "I will not think it." And Claudio's very next speech not only shows him ready to receive proof of her infidelity, but that he has actually conceived the mode of his revenge before he has received that proof:-"If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her tomorrow; in the congregation, where I should wed, there will I shame her." racter. In minor points, it is curious to note how consistently Shakspeare works out his individuality of chaThat is quite the act of a worldly man, Claudio's asking Benedick, in the first instance, his opinion of 1lero. A worldly man is apt to judge his mistress-or aught else he would appropriatethrough the eyes of others. A worldly man likes to know the general estimate of a woman or a purchase he seeks to make his own. He rates them by the market-price of public opinion. If he discover that they stand high in the judgment of the world, they immediately rise in his own idea. To find that the lady he admires is thought a fine woman, is toasted as a beauty, is the prize sought by many suitors.— to find that the horse he has thought of for his own riding has several other bidders,-to find that the lease of the house he has some notion of renting is likely to fall into other hands;—gives suddenly to each cent. per cent. additional value in his eyes, and excites his desire to become their possessor. Claudio's suspicious nature is not only indicated by the circumstance already referred to,-his deeming his friend capable of trying to supplant him,-but by such a minute touch as this. When he first avows his liking for Hero to his friends, the prince and Benedick, Don Pedro says :-"Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy." And Claudio replies:-" You speak this to fetch me in, my lord." His base nature is not only shown in his hoarded revenge, but in his telling a white lie-a masquerading lie, it is true-but still a lie; one of those social falsehoods, which men of honour and of the world permit themselves to utter. In so many words, when disguised in his domino, Don John accosts him as "Signior Benedick;" he says:-" You know me well, I am he." This is a paltry subterfuge, quite worthy of Claudio; for he does it to secure an opportunity for eaves-dropping, and for gaining underhand intelligence. His heartless nature is plainly depicted in the unfeeling way in which he jests immediately after the disgrace and loss of his mistress; going so far as flippantly to joke upon the wrath of her own father and uncle: "We had like to have had our two noses snapped off with two old men without teeth." There is evidence of his worldliness, in the way in which (under pretence, too, of accepting any penalty Leonato may choose to inflict for the injury he has done his innocent daughter) he catches at the proposal of wedding another young lady-a niece--" heir to both" the old men. It is remarkable that the very dirge music, and mourning epitaph, which he brings to Hero's tomb are the result of the father's suggestion; and no inspiration of his own remorse, of his own sorrow for her loss, or of contrition for what he has done. The very way in which he acknowledges Leonato's generosity of treatment has something sneaking, calculating, and characteristic of the man about it. He says: THE HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THOS. MORE.1 LIBELLUS A MARGARETA MORE, QUINDECIM ANNOS NATA, CHELSEIE INCEPTVS. "Nulla dies sine linea." THIS morn, hinting to Bess that she was lacing herselfe too straightlie, she brisklie replyed, "One w1 think 'twere as great meritt to have a thick waiste as to be one of ye earlie Christians! These humourous retorts are ever at her tongue's end; and, albeit, as Jacky one day angrilie remarked when she had beene teazing him, "Bess, thy witt is stupiduesse;" yet, for one who talks soe much at random, no one can be more keene when she chooseth. Father sayd of her, half fondly, half apologeticallie to Erasmus, "Her wit has a fine subtletie that eludes you almoste before you have time to recognize it for what it really is." To which, Erasmus readilie assented, adding, that it had ye rare meritt of playing less on persons than things, and never on bodilie defects. Hum!-I wonder if they ever sayd as much in favour of me. I know, indeede, Erasmus calls me a forward girl. Alas! that may be taken in two senses. Grievous work, overnighte, with ye churning Nought wd persuade Gillian but that ye creame was bewitched by Gammer Gurney, who was dissatisfyde last Friday with her dole, and hobbled away mumping and cursing. At alle events, ye butter wd not come ; but mother was resolute not to have soe much goode creame wasted; soe sent for Bess and me, Daisy and Mercy Giggs, and insisted on our churning in turn till ye butter came, if we sate up alle nighte for't. 'Twas a hard saying; and mighte have hampered her like as Jephtha his rash vow: howbeit, soe soone as she had left us, we turned it into a frolick, and sang Chevy Chase from end to end, to beguile time; ne'erthelesse, the butter wd not come; soe then we grew sober, and, at y instance of sweete Mercy, chaunted ye 119th Psalme; and, by the time we had attayned to 'Lucerna pedibus,' I hearde ye buttermilk separating and splashing in righte carneste. 'Twas neare midnighte, however; and Daisy had fallen asleep on ye dresser. Gillian will ne'er be convinced but that our Latin brake the spell. Erasmus went to Richmond this morning with usual fashion,) and some other of his friends. On Polus (for soe he Latinizes Reginald Pole, after his his return, he made us laugh at ye following. They had clomb ye hill, and were admiring ye prospect, when Pole, casting his eyes aloft, and beginning to make sundrie gesticulations, exclaimed, "What is it I beholde? May heaven avert ye omen!" with suchlike exclamations, which raised ye curiositie of alle. "Don't you beholde," cries he, "that enormous dragon flying through ye sky? his horns of fire? his curly tail?" (1) Continued from p. 103. "No," says Erasmus, "nothing like it. The sky | I switched off y. caterpillar. Neither coulde forbeare is as cleare as unwritten paper." laughing; and then he sued me to step downe, but I Howbeit, he continued to affirme and to stare, was minded to abide where I was. Howbeit, after a untill at lengthe, one after another, by dint of strayn- minute's pause, he sayd, in a grave, kind tone, “Come, ing theire eyes and theire imaginations, did admitt, little wife;" and taking mine arm steadilic in his first, that they saw something; next, that it mighte hand, I lost my balance and was faine to come down be a dragon; and last, that it was. Of course, on whether or noe. We walked for some time, jurta theire passage homeward, they cd talk of little else- | fluvium; and he talked not badlie of his travels, inassome made serious reflections; others, philosophicall much as I founde there was really more in him than speculations; and Pole waggishly triumphed in having one wd think. beene ye firste to discerne the spectacle. "And you trulie believe there was a signe in y heavens?" we inquired of Erasmus. "What know I?" returned he, smiling; "you know, Constantine saw a cross. Why shoulde Polus not see a dragon? We must judge by the event. Perhaps its mission may be to fly away with him. He swore to ye curly tail." - Was there ever anie-thing soe perverse, unluckie, and downrighte disagreeable? We hurried our afternoone tasks, to goe on ye water with my father; and, meaning to give Mr. Gunnel my Latin traduction, which is in a book like unto this, I never knew he had my journalle insteade, untill that he burst out a laughing. "Soe this is ye famous libellus," quoth he, . . . . I never waited for another word, but snatcht it out of his hand; which he, for soe strict a man, bore well enow. I do not believe he cd have read a dozen lines, and they were towards ye beginning; but I sd : hugelie like to know which dozen lines they were. How difficulte it is to discerne ye supernatural from ye incredible! We laughe at Gillian's faith in our Latin; Erasmus laughs at Polus his dragon. Have we a righte to believe noughte but what we can see or prove? Nay, that will never doc. Father says a capacitie for reasoning increaseth a capacitie for be- Hum! I have a mind never to write another word. lieving. He believes there is such a thing as witch- That will be punishing myselfe, though, insteade of craft, though not that poore olde Gammer Gurney is Gunnel. And he bade me not take it to heart like ye a witch; he believes that saints can work miracles, late Bishop of Durham, to whom a like accident though not in alle ye marvels reported of ye Canter-befel, which soc annoyed him that he died of chagrin. bury shrine. I will never again, howbeit, write aniething savouring Had I beene justice of ye peace, like ye king's ever soe little of levitie or absurditie. The saints grandmother, I wd have beene very jealous of accusa-keepe me to it! And, to know it from my exercise tions of witchcraft; and have taken infinite payns to sift out y causes of malice, jealousie, &c. which mighte have wroughte with ye poore olde women's enemies. Holie Writ sayth, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live;" but, questionlesse, manie have suffered hurte that were noe witches; and for my part, I have alwaies helde ducking to be a very uncertayn as well as very cruel teste. I cannot helpe smiling, whenever I think of my rencounter with William this morning. Mr. Gunnell had set me Homer's tiresome list of ships; and, because of ye excessive heate within doors, I took my book into ye nuttery, to be beyonde ye wrath of fardarting Phoebus Apollo, where I clomb into my favourite filbert scat. Anon comes William through ye trees without seeing me; and seats him at the foot of my filbert; then, out with his tablets, and, in a posture I s have called studdied, had he known anie one within sighte, falls a poetizing, I question not. Having noe mind to be interrupted, I lett him be, thinking he wd soone exhauste ye vein; but a caterpillar dropping from ye leaves on to my page, I was fayn for mirthe sake, to shake it down on his tablets. As ill luck wd have it, however, ye little reptile onlie fell among his curls; which soc took me at vantage that I coulde not helpe hastilie crying, "I beg your pardon." "Twas worth a world to see his start! "What!" cries he, looking up, "are there indeede Hama- | dryads?" and would have gallanted a little, but I bade him hold down his head, while that with a twig book, I will henceforthe bind a blue ribbon round it. Furthermore, I will knit ye sayd ribbon in soe close a knot, that it shall be worth noe one else's payns to pick it out. Lastlie, and for entire securitie, I will carry the same in my pouch, which will hold bigger matters than this. This daye, at dinner, Mr. Clement tooke ye Pistoller's place at y° reading-desk; and insteade of continuing ye subject in hand, read a paraphrase of ye 103rde Psalm; ye faithfullenesse and elegant turne of which, Erasmus highlic commended, though he took excep tions to ye phrase "renewing thy youth like that of yo Phoenix," whose fabulous story he believed to have beene unknowne to ye Psalmist, and, therefore, however poeticall, was unfitt to be introduced. A deepe blush on sweet Mercy's face ledd to ye detection of ye paraphrast, and drew on her some deserved commendations. Erasmus, turning to my father, exclaymed with animation, "I woulde call this house the academy of Plato, were it not injustice to compare it to a place where the usuall disputations con cerning figures and numbers were oulie occasionallic intersperst with disquisitions concerning ye moral virtues." Then, in a graver mood, he added, "One mighte envie you, but that your precious privileges are bound up with soe paynfulle anxieties. How manie pledges have you given to fortune!" "If my children are to die out of ye course of nature, before theire parents," father firmly replyed, rant." "You remind me," rejoyns Erasmus, "of Phocion; whose wife, when he was aboute to drink ye fatal cup, exclaimed, 'Ali, my husband! you die innocent.' 'And woulde you, my wife,' he returned, have me die guilty ?" " I wd rather they died well-instructed than igno- | chamber, she improved cache spare moment in ye way of studdy and prayer. He repeated "Friendlesse ? she cannot be called friendlesse, who hath More for her protector, and his children for companions ;" and then woulde heare more of her parents' sad story. Alsoe, would hear somewhat of Rupert Allington, and how father gained his law-suit. Alsoe, of Daisy, whose name he tooke to be ye true abbreviation for Margaret, but I tolde him how that my step-sister, and Mercy, and I, being all three of a name, and I being alwaies called Meg, we had in sport given one the significative of her characteristic virtue, and the other that of ye French Marguerite, which may indeed be rendered either pearl or daisy. And Chaucer, speaking of our English daisy, saith Awhile after, Gonellus askt leave to see Erasmus his signet ring, which he handed down to him. In passing it back, William, who was occupyde in carving a crane, handed it soe negligentlie that it felle to ye ground. I never saw such a face as Erasmus made, when 'twas picked out from ye rushes! And yet, ours are renewed almoste daylie, which manic think over nice. He took it gingerlie in his faire, woman-like hands, and washed and wiped it before he put it on; which escaped not my step-mother's displeased notice. Indeede, these Dutchmen are scrupulouslie cleane, though mother calls 'em swinish, because they will eat raw sallets; though, for that matter, father loves cresses and ramps. She alsoe mislikes Erasmus for eating cheese and butter together with his manchet; or what he calls boetram; and for being, gencrallie, daintie at his sizes, which she sayth is an ill example to soc manie young people, and becometh not one with soe little money in's purse: howbeit, I think 'tis not nicetie, but a weak stomach, which makes him loathe our salt-meat commons from Michaelmasse to Easter, and eschew fish of ye coarser sort. He cannot breakfaste on colde milk like father, but liketh furmity a little spiced. At dinner, he pecks at, rather than eats, ruffs and reeves, lapwings, or anie smalle birds it may chance; but affects sweets and subtilties, and loves a cup of wine or ale, stirred with rosemary. Father never toucheth the wine-cup but to grace a guest, and loves water from the spring. We growing girls cat more than either; and father says he loves to see us slice away at the cob-loaf; it does him goode. What a kind father he is! I wish my step-mother were as kind. I hate alle sneaping and snubbing, flowting, fleering, pinching, nipping, and such-like; it onlie creates resentment insteade of penitence, and lowers ye minde of either partie. Gillian throws a rollingpin at ye turnspit's head, and we call it low-life; but we looke for such unmannerlinesse in the kitchen. whip is onlie fit for Tisiphone. "Si douce est la Marguerite." Since ye little wisdom I have capacitie to acquire, soc oft gives me ye headache to distraction, I marvel not at Jupiter's payn in his head, when the goddess of wisdom sprang therefrom full growne. This morn, to quiet ye payn brought on by too busic application, Mr. Gunnell would have me close my book and ramble forth with Cecy into y fields. We strolled towards Walham Greene; and she was seeking for shepherd's purses and shepherd's needles, when she came running back to me, looking rather pale. I askt what had scared her, and she made answer that Gammer Gurney was coming along ye hedge. I bade her set aside her feares; and anon we come up with Gammer, who was pulling at ye purple blossoms of ye deadly nightshade. I sayd, "Gammer, to what purpose gather that weed? knowest not 'tis evill?" She sayth, mumbling, "What God hath created, that call not thou evill." "Well, but," quo' I, "'tis poison." Aye, and medicine too," returns Gammer, "I wonder what we poor souls might come to, if we tooke nowt for our ails and aches but what we could buy o' the potticary. We've got noc Dr. Clement, we poor folks, to be our leech o' the household." "But hast no feare," quo' I, "of an over-dose ?" "There's manie a doctor," sayth she, with an unpleasant leer, "that hath given that at first. In time he gets his hand in; and I've had a plenty o' practice on-thanks to self and sister." A As we rose from table, I noted Argus pearcht y window-sill, eagerlie watching for his dinner, which he looketh for as punctuallic as if he cd tell the diall; and to please the good, patient bird, till the scullion broughte him his mess of garden-stuff, I fetched him some pulse, which he took from mine hand, taking good heede not to hurt me with his sharp beak. While I was feeding him, Erasmus came up, and asked me concerning Mercy Giggs; and I tolde him how that she was a friendlesse orphan, to whom deare father afforded protection and the run of ye house; and tolde him of her gratitude, her meekness, her patience, her docilitie, her aptitude for alle goode works and alms-deeds; and how, in her little VOL. XIII. "I knew not," quoth I, "that thou hadst a sister." "How should ye, mistress," returns she, shortlic, 'when ye never comes nigh us? We've grubbed on together this many a year." ""Tis soe far," I returned, half ashamed. Why, soe it be," answers Gammer; "far from neighbours, far from church, and far from priest; how beit, my old legs carries me to your house o’ Fridays; but I know not whether I shall e'er come agayn--the rye bread was soc hard last time; it may serve for young teeth, and for them as has got none; but mine, you see, are onlie on the goe;" and she opened her mouth with a ghastly smile. ""Tis not," L she added, "that I'm ungratefulle; but thou sees, | Gammer more than enow for her present needes; After a moment, I asked, "Where lies your dwelling?" "Out by yonder," quoth she, pointing to a shapeless mass like a huge bird's nest in ye corner of the field. "There bides poor Joan and I. Wilt come and looke within, mistress, and see how a Christian can die ?" I mutelie complyed, in spite of Cecy's pulling at my skirts. Arrived at ye wretched abode, which had a hole for its chimney, and another for door at once and window, I found, sitting in a corner, propped on a heap of rushes, dried leaves, and olde rags, an aged sick woman, who seemed to have but a little while to live. A mug of water stoode within her reach; I saw none other sustenance; but, in her visage, oh, such peace!.... Whispers Gammer with an awfulle look, 66 She sees 'em now!" Sees who?" quoth I. "Why, angels in two long rows, afore ye throne of God, a bending of themselves, this way, with theire faces to th' earth, and arms stretched out afore 'em." "Hath she seen a priest?" quoth I. "Lord love ye," returns Gammer, "what coulde a priest doe for her? She's in heaven alreadie. I doubte it she can heare me." And then, in a loud, distinct voyce, quite free from her usuall mumping, she beganne to recite in English, "Blessed is every one that feareth ye Lord, and walketh in his ways," etc.; which ye dying woman hearde, although alreadie speechlesse; and reaching out her feeble arm unto her sister's neck, she dragged it down till their faces touched; and then, looking up, pointed at somewhat she aimed to make her see . . . and we alle looked up, but saw noughte. Howbeit, she pointed up three severall times, and lay, as it were, transfigured before us, a gazing at some transporting sighte, and ever and anon turning on her sister looks of love; and, the while we stoode thus agaze, her spiritt passed away without even a thrill or a shudder. Cecy and I beganne to weepe; and, after a while, soe did Gammer; then, putting us forthe, she sayd, "Goe, children, goe; 'tis noe goode crying; and yet I'm thankfulle ye for your teares." to I sayd, "Is there aught we can doe for thee?" She made answer, "Perhaps you can give me tuppence, mistress, to lay on her poor eyelids and keep 'em down. Bless 'ec, bless 'ee! You're like ye good Samaritan-he pulled out two-pence. And maybe, if I come to 'ee to-morrow, you'll give me a lapfulle of rosemarie, to lay on her poor corpse.... I know you've plenty. God be with 'ee, children; and be sure ye mind how a Christian can die." Soe we left, and came home sober enow. Cecy sayth, "To die is not soe fearfulle, Meg, as I thoughte, but shoulde you fancy dying without a priest? I shoulde not; and yet Gammer sayd she wanted not one. Howbeit, for certayn, Gammer Gurney is noe witch, or she woulde not soe prayse God." To conclude, father, on hearing alle, hath given and June 24. Yesternighte, being St. John's Eve, we went into town to see ye mustering of ye watch. Mr. Rastall had secured us a window opposite ye King's Head, in Chepe, where theire Mys. went in state to see the show. The streets were a marvell to see, being like unto a continuation of fayr bowres or arbours, garlanded acrosse and over ye doors with greene birch, long fennel, orpin, St. John's wort, white lilies, and such like; with innumerable candles intersperst, the which, being lit up as soon as 'twas dusk, made the whole look like enchanted land; while, at ye same time, the leaping over bon-fires commenced, and produced shouts of laughter. The youths woulde have had father goe downe and joyn 'em; Rupert, speciallie, begged him hard, but he put him off with, "Sirrahı, you goosecap, dost think 'twoulde befitt ye Judge of the Sheriffs' Court?" At length, to ye sound of trumpets, came marching up Cheapside two thousand of the watch, in white fustian, with the City badge; and seven hundred cressett bearers, eache with his fellow to supplie him with oyl, and making, with theire flaring lights, the night as cleare as daye. After 'em, the morris-dancers and City waites; the Lord Mayor on horseback, very fine, with his giants and pageants: and the Sheriff and his watch, and his giants and pageants. The streets very uproarious on our way back to the barge, but the homeward passage delicious; the nighte ayre cool; and the stars shining brightly. Father and Erasmus had some astronomick talk; howbeit, methoughte Erasmus less familiar with ye heavenlie bodies than │ father is. Afterwards, they spake of y King, but not over-freelie, by reason of ye bargemen overhearing. Thence, to ye ever-vext question of Martin Luther, of whome Erasmus spake in terms of earneste, yet qualifyde prayse. "If Luther be innocent," quoth he, "I woulde not run him down by a wicked faction; if he be in error, I woulde rather have him reclaymed than destroyed; for this is most agreeable to the doctrine of our deare Lord and Master, who woulde not bruise ye broken reede, nor quenche ye smoaking flax." And much more to same purpose. We younger folks felle to choosing our favourite mottoes and devices, in which ye elders at length joyned us. Mother's was loyal-" Cleave to ye crown though it hang on a bush." Erasmus's pithie"Festina Lente." William sayd he was indebted for his to St. Paul-"I seeke not yours, but you." For me, I quoted one I had seene in an olde countrie church, "Mieux être que paroitre," which pleased father and Erasmus much. |