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"Why, then the world's mine oyster" is essentially higher than the obscure bombast of the real Pistol. Of Mistress Quickly we have already spoken as to the circumstances in which she is placed; and these circumstances are so essentially different that we can scarcely recognise any marked similarity of character in the original sketch.

Having, then, seen the great and insuperable difficulties which belong to the theory that 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' was written after the histories, let us consider what difficulties, both of situation and character, present themselves under the other theory, that the comedy was produced before the histories.

First, is it irreconcileable with the tradition referring to Queen Elizabeth? It is not so, if we adopt the tradition as related by Dennis -this comedy was written by Queen

Elizabeth's command, and finished in fourteen days. This statement of the matter is plain and simple; because it is disembarrassed of those explanations and inferences which never belong to any popular tradition, but are superadded by ingenious persons who have a theory to establish. We can perfectly understand how 'The Merry Wives of Windsor,' as we have it in the first sketch, might have been produced by Shakspere in a fortnight; -and how such a slight and lively piece, containing many local allusions, and perhaps some delineations of real characters, might have furnished the greatest solace to Elizabeth some seven or eight years before the end of the sixteenth century, after mornings busily employed in talking politics with Leicester, or in translating Boetius in her own private chamber. The manners throughout, and without any disguise, are those of Elizabeth's own time. Leave out the line in the amended play of "the mad Prince and Poins," and the line in the sketch about "the wild Prince killing his father's deer," and the whole play (taken apart from the histories) might with much greater propriety be acted with the costume of the age of Elizabeth. It is for this reason, most probably, that we find so little of pure poetry either in the sketch or the finished performance. As Shakspere placed his characters in his own country,

with the manners of his own days, he made them speak like ordinary human beings, showing

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-deeds and language such as men do use, And persons such as Comedy would choose, When she would show an image of the times, And sport with human follies, not with crimes."*

We may believe, therefore, the tradition (without adopting the circumstances which make it difficult of belief), and accept the theory that The Merry Wives of Windsor' was written before the 'Henry IV.'

Secondly, is the theory that the comedy was produced before the histories, irreconcileable with the contradictory circumstances which render the other theory so difficult of admission? Assuming that the comedy was written before the histories, it can be read without any violence to our indelible recollections of the situations of the characters in

the 'Henry IV.' and 'Henry V.' It must be read with a conviction that, if there be any connection of the action at all, it is a very slight one—and that this action precedes the 'Henry IV.' by some indefinite period. Then, the Falstaff who in the quiet shades of Windsor did begin to perceive he was "made an ass" had not acquired the experience of the city, for before he knew Hal he "knew nothing;"-then the fair maid Quickly, who afterwards contrived to have a husband and be a poor widow without changing her name, knew no higher sphere than the charge of Dr. Caius's laundry and kitchen; then Pistol was not an ancient, certainly had not married

the quondam Quickly, had not made the dangerous experiment of jesting with Fluellen, and occasionally talked like a reasonable being;-then Shallow had some unexplained business which took him from Glostershire to Windsor, travelled without his man Davy, had not lent a thousand pounds to Sir John Falstaff, and was not quite so silly and so delightful as when he had drunk "too much sack at supper" toasting "all the cavaleroes about London ;"-then, lastly, Bardolph was not "master corporate Bardolph," and certainly Nym and he had not been hanged.

*Ben Jonson, Prologue to 'Every Man in his Humour.'

Thirdly, does the theory of the production | common to the 'First Part of Henry IV.' of 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' before and 'The Merry Wives of Windsor;' for in 'Henry IV.' and 'Henry V.' furnish a proper the original copy of 'Henry IV., Part I.,' the solution of the remarkable inferiority in the person who stands amongst the modern list comedy of several of the characters which are of characters as Quickly is invariably called common to both? If we accept the opinion the Hostess. If the Falstaff, then, of 'Henry that the Falstaff, the Shallow, the Quickly, IV.' were originally Oldcastle, we have only the Pistol, Bardolph, and Nym, of 'The Bardolph left in common to the two dramas. Merry Wives,' were all originally con- Was Bardolph originally called so in 'Henry ceived by the poet before the characters IV., Part I.'? When Poins proposes to the with similar names in the 'Henry IV.' and Prince to go to Gadshill, he says, in the 'Henry V.;' and that, after they had been in original copy, "I have a jest to execute that some degree adopted in the historical plays, I cannot manage alone,-Falstaff, Harvey, Shakspere remodelled 'The Merry Wives,' Rossil, and Gadshill shall rob these men," &c. and heightened the resemblances of character We now read, "Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and which the resemblances of name implied,- Gadshill," &c. It has been conjectured that the inferiority in several of these characters, Harvey and Rossil were the names of actors; especially in the sketch, will be accounted but, as Oldcastle remains where we now read for, without assuming, with Johnson, that Falstaff in one place of the original copy, "the poet approached as near as he could to might not in the same way Bardolph have the work enjoined him; yet, having perhaps been originally Harvey or Rossil? This in the former play completed his own idea, point, however, is not material. If Shaksperc seems not to have been able to give Falstaff were compelled, by a strong expression of all his former powers of entertainment." public opinion, to remove the name of Johnson's opinion proceeds upon the very Oldcastle from the 'First Part of Henry IV.,' just assumption that continuations are, for the name of Falstaff was ready to his hand the most part, inferior to original conceptions. as a substitute. He had drawn a knight, fat But The Merry Wives' could not have been and unscrupulous, as he had represented proposed as a continuation of the 'Henry Oldcastle, but far his inferior in wit, humour, IV.' and the 'Henry V.,' even if it had been inexhaustible merriment, presence of mind, written after those plays. If it were written and intellectual activity. The transition was after the histories, the author certainly not inconsistent from the Falstaff of 'The mystified all the new circumstances as Merry Wives' to the Falstaff of 'Henry IV.' compared with those which had preceded The character, when Shakspere remodelled them, for the purpose of destroying the idea the first sketch of the comedy, required some of continuation. This appears to us too elevation;-but it still might stand at a long violent an assumption. But no other can be distance, without offence to an audience who maintained. To attribute such interminable knew that the inferior creation was first contradictions to negligence is to assume produced. With Falstaff Shakspere might that Shakspere was not only the greatest have transferred Bardolph to the 'First Part of poets, but of blunderers. of Henry IV.,' but materially altered. The base Hungarian wight who would "the spigot wield" had, as a tapster, made his nose a "fiery kitchen" to roast malt-worms; and he was fit to save him "a thousand marks in links and torches." When, further, Falstaff had completely superseded Oldcastle in the 'First Part of Henry IV.,' Shakspere might have adopted Pistol, and Shallow, and Quickly in the Second Part,-but greatly changed;and, lastly, have introduced Nym to the

And now we must hazard a conjecture. It has been attempted to show that the Falstaff of the 'First Part of Henry IV.' was originally called Oldcastle*. If that were the case, and the balance of evidence is in favour of that opinion, the whole matter seems to us clearer. Let it be remembered that Falstaff and Bardolph are the only characters that are

* See Notice of Sir John Oldcastle,' a play by some attributed to Shakspere, Book VI. chap. 2.

'Henry V.' unchanged. All this being accomplished, he would naturally have remodelled the first sketch of 'The Merry Wives,'-making the relations between the characters of the comedy and of the histories closer, but still of purpose keeping the situations sufficiently distinct. He thus for ever connected 'The Merry Wives' with the historical plays. The Falstaff of the comedy must now belong to the age of Henry IV.; but to be understood he must, we venture to think, be regarded as the embryo Falstaff.

We request that it may be borne in mind that the entire argument which we have thus advanced is founded upon a conviction that the original sketch, as published in the quarto of 1602, is an authentic production of our poet. Had no such sketch existed, we must have reconciled the difficulties of believing 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' to have been produced after 'Henry IV.' and 'Henry V.' as we best might have done. Then we must have acknowledged that the characters of Falstaff and Shallow and Quickly were the same in the comedy and the 'Henry IV.,' though represented under different circumstances. Then we must have believed that the contradictory situations were to be explained by the determination of Shakspere boldly to disregard the circumstances which resulted from his compliance with the commands of Elizabeth-" to show Falstaff in love." But that sketch being preserved to us, it is much easier, we think, to believe that it was produced before the histories; and that the characters were subsequently heightened, and more strikingly delineated, to assimilate them to the characters of the histories. After all, we have endeavoured, whilst we have expressed our own belief, fairly to present both sides of the question. The point, we think, is of interest to the lovers of Shakspere; for, inferring that the comedy is a continuation of the history, the inferiority of the Falstaff of 'The Merry Wives' to the Falstaff of 'Henry IV.' implies a considerable abatement of the poet's skill. On the other hand, the conviction that the sketch of the comedy preceded the history, that it was an early play, and that it was subsequently remodelled, is consistent with

the belief in the progression of that extraordinary intellect, which acquired greater vigour the more its power was exercised.

Rightly to appreciate this comedy, it is, we conceive, absolutely necessary to dissociate it from the historical plays of 'Henry IV.' and'Henry V.' Whether Shakspere produced the original sketch of 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' before those plays, and remodelled it after their appearance, or whether he produced both the original sketch and the finished performance when his audiences were perfectly familiar with the Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, and Mistress Quickly of Henry IV.' and 'Henry V.'-it is perfectly certain that he did not intend "The Merry Wives' as a continuation. It is impossible, however, not to associate the period of the comedy with the period of the histories. For although the characters which are common to all the dramas act in the comedy under very different circumstances, and are, to our minds, not only different in their moods but in some of their distinctive features, they must each be received as identical-alter et idem. Still the connexion must be as far as possible removed from our view, that we may avoid comparisons which the author certainly was desirous to avoid, when in remodelling the comedy he introduced no circumstances which could connect it with the histories; and when he not only did not reject what would be called the anachronisms of the first sketch, but in the perfect play heaped on such anachronisms with a profuseness that is not exhibited in any other of his dramas. We must, therefore, not only dissociate the characters of 'The Merry Wives' from the similar characters of the histories, but suffer our minds to slide into the belief that the manners of the times of Henry IV. had sufficient points in common with those of the times of Elizabeth to justify the poet in taking no great pains to distinguish between them. We must suffer ourselves to be carried away with the nature and fun of this comedy, without encumbering our minds with any precise idea of the social circumstances under which the characters lived. We must not startle, therefore, at the mention of Star-chambers, and Edward shovel-boards,

and Sackerson, and Guiana, and rapiers, and Flemish drunkards, and coaches, and pensioners. The characters speak in the language of truth and nature, which belongs to all time; and we must forget that they sometimes use the expressions of a particular time to which they do not in strict propriety belong. The critics have been singularly laudatory of this comedy. Warton calls it "the most complete specimen of Shakspere's comic powers." Johnson says, "This comedy is remarkable for the variety and number of the personages, who exhibit more characters appropriated and discriminated than perhaps can be found in any other play. . . . Its general power, that power by which all works of genius shall finally be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had reader or spectator who did not think it too soon at the end." We agree with much of this; but we certainly cannot agree with Warton that it is "the most complete specimen of Shakspere's comicpowers." We cannot forget 'As You Like It,' and 'Twelfth Night,' and 'Much Ado about Nothing.' We cannot forget those exquisite combinations of the highest wit with the purest poetry, in which the wit flows from the same everlasting fountain as the poetry, --both revealing all that is most intense and profound and beautiful and graceful in humanity. Of those qualities which put Shakspere above all other men that ever existed, 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' exhibits few traces. Some of the touches, however, which no other hand could give, are to be found in Slender, and we think in Quickly. Slender, little as he has to do, is the character that most frequently floats before our fancy when we think of The Merry Wives of Windsor.' Slender and Anne Page are the favourites of our modern school of English painting, which has attempted, and successfully, to carry the truth of the Dutch school into a more refined region of domestic art. We do not wish Anne Page to have been married to Slender, but in their poetical alliance they are inseparable. It is in the remodelled play that we find, for the most part, such Shaksperean passages in the character of Slender as, "If I be drunk, I'll be drunk

with those that have the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves," which resolve, as Evans says, shows his "virtuous mind." In the remodelled play, too, we find the most peculiar traces of the master-hand in Quickly, such as, "His worst fault is that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way;" and "The boy never need to understand anything, for 't is not good that children should know any wickedness. Old folks, you know, have discretion, as they say, and know the world;" and again, “Good hearts, what ado here is to bring you together! Sure, one of you does not serve heaven well that you are so crossed." Johnson objects to this latter passage as profane; but he overlooks the extraordinary depth of the satire. Shakspere's profound knowledge of the human heart is as much displayed in these three little sentences as in his Hamlet and his Iago.

The principal action of this comedy-the adventures of Falstaff with the Merry Wives

sweeps on with a rapidity of movement which hurries us forward to the dénouement as irresistibly as if the actors were under the influence of that destiny which belongs to the empire of tragedy. No reverses, no disgraces, can save Falstaff from his final humiliation. The net is around him, but he does not see the meshes;-he fancies himself the deceiver, but he is the deceived. He will stare Ford "out of his wits," he will "awe him with his cudgel," yet he lives "to be carried in a basket, like a barrow of butcher's offal; and to be thrown in the Thames." But his confidence is undaunted: "I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been thrown into Thames, ere I will leave her;" yet, "since I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what it was to be beaten, till lately." Lastly, he will rush upon a third adventure: "This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers;" yet his good luck ends in "I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass." The real jealousy of Ford most skilfully helps on the merry devices of his wife; and with equal skill does the poet make him throw away his jealousy, and assist in the last plot against the "unclean knight." The misadventures of Falstaff are

most agreeably varied. The disguise of the old woman of Brentford puts him altogether in a different situation to his suffocation in the buck-basket; and the fairy machinery of Herne's Oak carries the catastrophe out of the region of comedy into that of romance.

The movement of the principal action is beautifully contrasted with the occasional repose of the other scenes. The Windsor of the time of Elizabeth is presented to us, as the quiet country town, sleeping under the shadow of its neighbour the castle. Amidst its gabled houses, separated by pretty gardens, from which the elm and the chestnut and the lime throw their branches across the unpaved road, we find a goodly company, with little to do but gossip and laugh, and make sport out of each other's cholers and weaknesses. We see Master Page training his "fallow greyhound:" and we go with Master Ford "a-birding." We listen to the "pribbles and prabbles" of Sir Hugh Evans and Justice Shallow, with a quiet satisfaction for they talk as unartificial men ordinarily talk, without much wisdom, but with good temper and sincerity. We find ourselves in the days of ancient hospitality, when men could make their fellows welcome without ostentatious display, and half a dozen neighbours "could drink down all unkindness" over "a hot venison pasty." The more busy inhabitants of the town have time to tattle, and to laugh, and be laughed at. Mine Host of the Garter is the prince of hosts; he is the very soul of fun and good temper: he is not solicitous whether Falstaff sit "at ten pounds a week" or at two; he readily takes "the withered servingman for a fresh tapster ;"-his confidence in his own cleverness is delicious:—“ Am I politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel?"-the Germans "shall have my horses, but I'll

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make them pay, I'll sauce them." When he loses his horses, and his "mind is heavy,” we rejoice that Fenton will give him "; hundred pound in gold" more than his loss. His contrivances to manage the fray between the furious French doctor and the honest Welsh parson are productive of the happiest situations. Caius waiting for his adversary "De herring is no dead so as I vill kill him"-is capital. But Sir Hugh, with his— "There will we make our peds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies,

To shallow

Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry,”—is inimitable.

With regard to the underplot of Fenton and Anne Page-the scheme of Page to marry her to Slender-the counterplot of her mother, "firm for Dr. Caius"-and the management of the lovers to obtain a triumph out of the devices against them-it may be sufficient to point out how skilfully it is interwoven with the Herne's Oak adventure of.Falstaff. Though Slender "went to her in white, and cried 'mum,' and she cried budget,' yet it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy;"-though Caius did "take her in green," he "ha' married un garçon, a boy, un paisan,"—but Anne and Fenton,

...

"long since contracted,

Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve them."

Over all the misadventures of that night, when "all sorts of deer were chas'd," Shakspere throws his own tolerant spirit of for

giveness and content :

"Good husband, let us every one go home, And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire; Sir John and all.”

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