any kind of estrangement between them should not hitherto
have been noticed, but something to favor that impression
may be fancied to be visible in Shakespeare's neglect to give
his widow a life-interest either in their own residence at
New Place or in its furniture. However liberally she may
179
Life WILLIAM
have been provided for, that circumstance would hardly
reconcile us to the somewhat ungracious divorce of a wife
from the control of her own household. It is clear that
there must have been some valid reason for this arrange-
ment, for the grant of such an interest would not have
affected the testator's evident desire to perpetuate a family
estate, and there appears to be no other obvious design
with which a limited gift of the mansion could have inter-
fered. Perhaps the only theory that would be consistent
with the terms of the will, and with the deep affection which
she is traditionally recorded to have entertained for him to
the end of her life, is the possibility of her having been
afflicted with some chronic infirmity of a nature that pre-
cluded all hope of recovery. In such a case, to relieve her
from household anxieties and select a comfortable apart-
ment at New Place, where she would be under the care of
an affectionate daughter and an experienced physician,
would have been the wisest and kindest measure that could
have been adopted.
It has been observed that a man's character is more fully
revealed in a will than in any other less solemn document,
and the experiences of most people will tend to favor the
impression that nothing is so likely to be a really faithful
record of natural impulses. Dismissing, as unworthy of
consideration, the possibility of there having been an inten-
tional neglect of his wife, it is pleasing to notice in Shakes-
peare's indications of the designer having been a conscien-
tious and kind-hearted man, and one who was devoid of any
sort of affectation. Independently of the bequests that
amply provided for his children and sister, there are found
in it a very unusual number of legacies to personal friends,
and if some of its omissions, such as those of reference to
180
SHAKESPEARE Life
the Hathawajs, appear to be mysterious, it must be recol-
lected that wc are entirely unacquainted with family
arrangements, the knowledge of some of which might ex-
plain them all. It has, moreover, been objected that "the
will contains less of sentiment than might be wished," that
is to say, it may be presumed, by those who fancy that the
great dramatist must have been, by virtue of his art, of an
aesthetic and sentimental temperament. When Mr. West
of Alscot was the first, in 1747, to exhibit a biographical
interest in this relic, the Rev. Joseph Greene, master of the
grammar-school of Stratford-on-Avon, who made a tran-
script for him, was also disappointed with its contents, and
could not help observing that it was "absolutely void of the
least particle of that spirit which animated our great poet.'*
It might be thought from this impeachment that the worthy
preceptor expected to find It written in blank-verse.
The preponderance of Shakespeare's domestic over his
literary sympatliies is strikingly exhibited in this final
record. Not only is there no mention of Drayton, Ben
Jonson, or any of his other literary friends, but an entire
absence of reference to his own compositions. When
these facts are considered adjunctively with his want of
vigilance in not having previously secured authorized pub-
lications of any one of his dramas, and with other episodes
of his life, it is difficult to resist the conviction that he was
indifferent to the posthumous fate of his own writings.
The editors of the first folio speak, indeed, in a tone of
regret at his death having rendered a personal edition an
impossibility ; but they merely allude to this as a matter of
fact or destiny, and as a reason for the devolution of the
task upon themselves. They nowhere say, as they might
naturally have done had it been the case, that the poet
181
Life WILLIAM
himself had meditated such an undertaking, or even that
the shghtest preparations for it had been made during the
years of his retirement. They distinctly assure us, how-
ever, that Shakespeare was in the habit of furnishing them
with the autograph manuscripts of his plays, so that, if he
had retained transcripts of them for his own ultimate use,
or had afterwards collected them, it is reasonable to assume
that they would have used his materials and not been so
careful to mention that they themselves were the only
gatherers. It may, indeed, be safely averred that the lead-
ing facts in the case, especially the apathy exhibited by the
poet in his days of leisure, all tend to the persuasion that
the composition of his immortal dramas was mainly stimu-
lated by pecuniary results that were desired for the realiza-
tion of social and domestic advantages. It has been fre-
quently observed that, if this view be accepted, it is at the
expense of investing him with a mean and sordid disposi-
tion. Such a conclusion may well be questioned. Literary
ambition confers no moral grace, while its possession, as it
might in Shakespeare's case, too often jeopardizes the
attainment of independence as well as the paramount claims
of family and kindred. That a solicitude in these latter
directions should have predominated over vanity is a fact
that should enhance our appreciation of his personal char-
acter, however it may affect the direct gratitude of poster-
ity for the infinite pleasure and instiniction derived from
his writings.
One more section of the poet's will has yet to be con-
sidered, that solemn one which has been so frequently held
to express the limits of his faith ; but the terms in which
the soul was devised were almost invariably those that were
thought to reflect the doctrine of the prevailing rehgion,
182
SHAKESPEARE Life
so that the opening clause is no more a declaration that
he was a Protestant than is the bequest by his maternal
grandfather, Robert Arden, of "mj soul to Almighty God,
and to our blessed Lady, Saint Mary, and to all the holy
company of Heaven," a proof in itself that the last-named
testator was a Catholic. Neither can it be determined that
Shakespeare was one or the other from what is fancied to
be the internal evidence on the subject afforded by his
writings, for this has been the theme of innumerable essays
with the result that the advocates for his Protestantism and
those for his Catholicism are as nearly as may be on a
level in respect to the validity of their inferences. Those
who endeavor to ascertain a dramatist's own religious senti-
ments from the utterances of his characters, — each of
whom should be to himself religiously true at the due
moments of religious expression, — or from the variations
in his mode of treating materials that had been dramatically
fashioned by his predecessors, can only be successful amid
the works of less impartial artists. With respect to allu-
sions to facts that are dependent upon knowledge and
become in that way a species of evidence, there is only one,
the reference to evening-mass, which is of practical value
in the enquiry ; but this, assuming it to be as hopelessly
incorrect as is generally represented, is either a casual over-
sight or due to the very little opportunity that the author
could have had for becoming familiar with Catholic prac-
tice. And if the merciless rigor with which the Catholic
ministrations were suppressed is fairly borne in mind, no
heed will be given to arguments based on the resort of the
Shakespeares to those of the governmental Church. The
poet, moreover, was educated under the Protestant direc-
tion, or he would not have been educated at all. But there
183
Life WILLIAM
is no doubt that John Shakespeare nourished all the while
a latent attachment to the old religion, and although, like
most unconverted confonnists of ordinary discretion who
were exposed to the inquisitorial tactics of the authorities,
he may have attempted to conceal his views even from the
members of his own household; yet still, however deter-
minatcly he may have refrained from giving them expres-
sion, it generally happens in such cases that a wave from
the religious spirit of a parent will imperceptibly reach
the hearts of his children and exercise more or less influ-
ence on their perceptions. And this last presumption is an
important consideration in assessing the degree of credit to
be given to the earliest notice that has come down to us
respecting the character of Shakespeare's own belief, — the
assertion of Davies that "he died a Papist." That this was
the local tradition in the latter part of the seventeenth
century does not admit of rational question. If the state-
ment had emanated from a man like Prynne, addressing
fanatics whose hatred of a stage player would if possible
have been intensified by the knowledge that he was a
Romanist, then indeed a legitimate suspicion might have
been entertained of the narrator's integrity ; but here we
have the testimony of a sober clergyman, who could have
had no conceivable motive for deception, in what is obvi-
ously the casual note of a provincial hearsay. An element
of fact in this testimony must be accepted in a biography
in which the best, in this instance the only, direct evidence
takes precedence over theories that are based on mere credi-
bilities. At the same time it is anything but necessary
to conclude that the great dramatist had very strong or
pronounced views on theological matters. If that were the
case, it is almost certain that there would have been some
184
SHAKESPEARE Life
other early allusion to them, and perhaps in himself less of
that spirit of toleration for every kind of opinion
which rendered him at home with all sorts and conditions
of men, — as well as less of that freedom from inflexible
preconceptions that might have aff^ected the fidelity of his
dramatic work. Many will hold that there was sufficient
of those qualities to betray a general indifference to creeds
and rituals, and, at all events, whatever there was of Cathol-
icism in his faith did not exclude the maintenance of affec-
tionate relations with his ultra-protestant son-in-law.
There is nothing in the will, in the list of witnesses, in the
monumental inscription, in selection of friends, in the his-
tory of his professional career, in the little that tells of
his personal character, — there is nothing, in short, in a
single one of the contemporary evidences to indicate that
he ever entered any of the circles of religious partisanship.
Assuming, as we fairly may, that he had a leaning to the
faith of his ancestors, we may yet be sure that the inclina-
tion was not of a nature that materially disturbed the easy-
going acquiescence in the conditions of his surrounding
world that added so much to the happiness of his later days.
With perhaps one exception. It is surely within the
bounds of possibility that he gave utterance to that Inclina-
tion in the course of his last illness, and that he then
declined, almost in the same breath in which he directed the
kindly remembrances to his fellow-actors, the offices of a
vicar who preached the abolition of the stage, and regarded
the writers of plays as so many Anti-Christs. This hypoth-
esis would fully explain the currency of the tradition
recorded by Davies, and at the same time meet the other
conditions of the problem.
There was a funeral as well as a marriage in the family
185
Life willia:m
during the last days of Shakespeare. William Hart, who
was carrying on the business of a hatter at the premises
now known as the Birth-place, and who was the husband of
the poet's sister Joan, was buried at Stratford-on-Avon on
April 17, 1616. Before another week had elapsed, the
spirit of the great dramatist himself had fled.
Among the numerous popular errors of our ancestors
was the belief that fevers often resulted from convivial
indulo-ences. This was the current notion in England
until a comparatively recent period, and its prevalence
affected the traditional history of the poet's last illness.
The facts were these. Late in the March of this calam-
itous year, or, accepting our computation, early in April,
Shakespeare and his two frends, Drayton and Ben Jonson,
were regaling themselves at an entertainment in one of the
taverns at Stratford-on-Avon. It is recorded that the
party was a jovial one, and according to a late but appar-
ently genuine tradition, when the great dramatist was
returning to New Place in the evening, he had taken more
wine than was conducive to pedestrian accuracy. Shortly
or immediately afterwards he was seized by the lamentable
fever which terminated fatally on Tuesday, April 23, 1616,
a day, which, according to our present mode of computa-
tion, would be May 3. The cause of the malady, then
attributed to undue festivity, would now be readily dis-
cernible in the wretched sanitary conditions surrounding
his residence. If truth, and not romance, is to be invoked,
were there the woodbine and sweet hone3^suckle within reach
of the poet's death-bed, their fragrance would have been
neutralized by their vicinity to middens, fetid water-
cowrses, mud-walls and piggeries.
The funeral was solemnized on tlie following Thursday,
186
SHAKESPEARE Life
April 25, when all that was mortal of the great dramatist
was consigned to his final resting-place in the beautiful
parish-church of his native town. His remains were de-
posited in the chancel, the selection of the locality for the
interment being due to the circumstance of its then being
the legal and customary burial-place of the owners of the
tithes.
The grave is situated near the northern wall of the chan-
cel, within a few paces of the ancient chamel-house, the
arch of the doorway that opened to the latter, with its
antique corbels, still remaining. The scpulchcr was cov-
ered with a slab that bore the following inscription, —
Good frend, for Iesvs sake forbeare
to digg the dvst exci,oased heare ;
BlESTE be the max that SPARES TIIES STONES,
And cvrst be he that 3io\ts9 jiy bones.
- — lines which, according to an early tradition, were se-
lected by the poet himself for his epitaph. There is an-
other early but less probable statement that they were the
poet's own composition ; but, at all events, it may be safely
gathered that they originated in some way from an aver-
sion on his part to the idea of a distui'bance of his remains.
It should be remembered that the transfer of bones from
graves to the charnel-house was then an ordinary practice
at Stratford-on-Avon. There has long been a tradition
that Shakespeare's feelings on this subject arose from a
reflection on the ghastly appearance of that receptacle,
which the elder Ireland, writing in the year 1795, describes
as then containing "the largest assemblage of human
bones" he had ever beheld. But whether this be the truth,
or if it were merely the natural wish of a sensitive and
thoughtful mind, it is a source of congratulation that tlie
187
Life WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
simple verses should have protected his ashes from sacrilege-
The nearest approach to an excavation into the grave of
Shakespeare was made in the summer of the year 1796, in
digging a vault in the immediate locality, when an opening
appeared which was presumed to indicate the commence-
ment of the site of the bard's remains. The most scrupu-
lous care, however, was taken not to disturb the neighbor-
ing earth in the slightest degree, the clerk having been
placed there, until the brickwork of the adjoining vault
was completed, to prevent anyone making an examination.
No relics whatever were visible through the small opening
that thus presented itself, and as the poet was buried in
the ground, not in a vault, the chancel earth, moreover,
formerly absorbing a large degree of moisture, the great
probability is that dust alone remains. This consideration
may tend to discourage an irreverent opinion expressed by
some, that it is due to the interests of science to unfold to
the world the material abode which once held so great an
intellect. It is not many years since a phalanx of trouble-
tombs, lanterns and spades in hand, assembled in the chancel
at dead of night, intent on disobeying the solemn injunction
that the bones of Shakespeare were not to be disturbed.
But the supplicatory lines prevailed. There were some
among the number who, at the last moment, refused to
incur the warning condemnation, and so the design was
happily abandoned.
183
CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF
SHAKESPEARE'S PLAYS
Malone Chalmers Drake
1. First Part of Henry VI 1589 1593
2. Second Part of Henry VI 1591 1595 1592
3. Third Part of Henry VI 1591 1595 1592
4. Two Gentlemen of Verona 1591 1595 1595
5. Comedy of Errors 1592 1591 1591
6. Richard II 1593 1596 1596
7. Richard III 1593 1596 1595
8. Love's Labor's Lost 1594 1592 1591
9. Merchant of Venice 1594 1597 1597
10. A Midsummer Night's Dream 1594 1598 1593
11. Romeo and Juliet 1596 1592 1593
12. King John 1596 1598 1598
13. Taming of the Shrew 1596 1599 1594
14. Part I of Henrv IV 1597 1597 1596
15. Part II of Henry IV 1599 159T 1596
16. Henry V 1599 1597 1599
17. As You Liiie It 1599 1602 1600
18. Much Ado About Nothing 1600 1599 1599
19. Hamlet 1600 1598 1597
20. Merry Wives of Windsor 1601 1596 1601
21. Troilus and Cressida 1602 1610 1601
22. Measure for Measure 1603 1604 1603
23. Henrv VIII 1603 1613 1602
24. Otheilo 1604 1614 1612
25. King Lear 1605 1605 1604
26. All's Well That Ends Well 1606 1606 1598
27. Macbetli 1606 1606 1606
28. Julius Caesar 1607 1607 1607
29. Twelfth Night 1607 1613 1613
30. Antony and Cleopatra 1608 1608 1608
31. Cvmbeline 1609 1609 1605
32. Timon of Athens 1610 1611 1602
33. Coriolanus 1610 1619 1609
34. Winter's Tale 1611 1601 1610
35. Tlie Tempest 1611 1613 1611
36. Pericles Not acknowledged 1609
37. Titus Andronicus, not acknowledged by these critics, but orig-
inally published about 1589.
Shk-1-9 189
CHIEF CONTEMPORARY PLAYS
Acted Printed
Udall, Ralph Roister Doisler 155 J 1567
Sackville and Norton, Gorboduc {Ferrex and
Porrex) 1563 1565
Gammer, Gurton's Needle 1563? 1575
Gascoigne, Supposes and Jocasta 1566 1566
Wilmot, Tancred and Oismunda 1568 1591
Preston, Cambises King of Percia 1569 1570
Whetstone, Promos and Cassandra 1578 1578
Lyly, Campaspe 1580-1581 1584-
Lyly, Sapho and Phao 1585 1584
Peele, Arraignennent of Paris 1583 1584
Lyly, Endimion 1586 1591
Marlowe, Samharlaine 1587-1588 1590
Hughes, Misfortunes of Arthur 1587 1587
Marlowe, Faustus 1588 1604
Kyd, Spanish Tragedie 1588 1594
Troublesome Raigne of King John 1588 1591
Greene, Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay 1589 1594
Peele, David and Bethsabe ca. 1589 1599
Marlowe, Rich Jew of Malta 1589 1594;
Marlowe, Edicard II 1590 1594
Peele, Edward 1 1590 1593
Arden of Fever sham 1591 ? 1593
Peele, Old Wives' Tale 1593? 1595
Lyly, Woman in the Moone 1593 1597
The Raigne of Edward III 1596
Jonson, Every Man in his Humour 1598 1601
Dekker, The Shoemaker's Holiday 1599 1600
Chapman, All Fools 1600? 1605
The Return from Parnassus 1601-1602 1606
Marston, The Malcontent 1602? 1604
Jonson, Sejanus 1603 1605
Heywood, A Woman killed with Kindness 1603 1607
Dekker, The Honest Whore. Part 1 1603? 1604
Day, lie of Ouls 1605 1606
Jonson, Volpone 1605 1607
Marston, Chapman, and Jonson, Eastward Hoe.. 1605 1605
Chapman, Bussy d'Ambois 1G06? 1607
Tourneur, The Revengei'^s Tragedy 1607
190
SHAKESPEARE Contemporary Plays
Acted Printed
Chapman, Conspiracy and Tragedy of Byron 1608
Webster, The Wkite Devil 1607-1608 1G13
Dekker, The Honest Whore. Part II 1608 1630
Fletcher, The Faithful Shepherdess 1608-1609 1610
Jonson, The Silent V/oman 1609 1609?
Beaumont and Fletcher, Philaster 1609 1620
Jonson, The Alchemist 1610 1612
Beaumont and Fletcher, The Maid's Tragedy.... 1609-1610 1619
Beaumont and Fletcher, A King and No King. . . . 1611? 1619
Beaumont and Fletcher, The Knight of the Burnr-
ing Pestle 1611 1613
Field, A Woman is a Weathercock 1611 1612
Fletcher (and Shakespeare?), The Two Noble
Kin.imen 1613 1634i
Chapman, The Revenge of Bussy d'Ambois 1613
Jonson, B ar the lorn eiv Fair ICH 1631
Wel).ster, Duchess of Mnlfi 1616 1623
Fletcher, Valentinian 1616? 1647
Fletcher and Massinger, Thierry and Theodoret... 1617? 1621
Fletcher, Bonduca 1618? 1617
Fletcher, The Humorous Lieutenant 1619 1640
Fletcher and Massinger, Little French Laxcyer... 1620 I6i7
Dekker and Massinger, The Virgin Martyr 1632
Middleton, The Changeling 1623-1624 1653
Massinger, The Duke of Milan 1623
Fletcher, The Pilgrim 1621 1647
Fletcher (and another). The Beggars' Bush 1623 1647
Middleton and Rowley, The Spanish Gipsie 1623? 1653
Fletcher, Rule a Wife and have a Wife 1624 1640
Jonson, The Staple of Netos 1625 1631
Massin<;er, A New Way to Pay Old Debts 1625 1633
Ford. 'Tis Pity She 's a Whore 1628-1630 1633
Shirley, The Gamester 1634 1637
Jonson, The Sad Shepherd 1641
Middleton, Women beware Women 1657
191
INDEX OF CHARACTERS
A.
Aaron", a Moor, beloved by
Tamora, Titus Andronicus:
Act I, sc. i; Act II, so. i,
iii; Act III, sc. 1; Act IV, sc.
ii; Act V, sc. i, iii
Abergaven,ny, Lord, King Henry
VIII: Act I, sc. i
Abhorson, an executioner. Meas-
ure for Measure: Act IV, sc.
ii, iii
Abraham, servant to Montague,
Romeo and Juliet: Act I, sc. i
Achilles, a Grecian commander,
Troilus and Cressida: Act II,
sc. i, iii; Act III, sc. iii; Act
IV, sc. v; Act V, sc. i, v, vi,
vii, viii
Adam, servant to Oliver, As You
Like It: Act I, sc. i; Act II,
sc. iii, vi, vii
Adoxis, Passionate Pilgrim;
Venus and Adonis
Adrian, a lord, The Tempest:
Act II, sc. i; Act III, sc. iii;
Act V, sc. i
Adriana, wife to Antipholus of
Ephesus; The Comedy of Er-
rors: Act II, sc. i, ii; Act IV,
sc. ii, iv; Act V, sc. i
.^GEON, a merchant of Syracuse,
The Comedy of Errors : Act I,
sc. i; Act V, sc. i
JEmilia, wife to ^geon, an Ab-
bess of Ephesus, The Comedy
of Errors: Act V, sc. i
^Emilius, a noble Roman, Titus
Andronicus: Act IV, sc. iv;
Act V, sc. i, iii
^NEAS, a Trojan commander.
Troilus and Cressida: Act I,
sc. i, ii, iii; Act IV, sc. i, ii,
iii, iv, v; Act V, sc. ii, x
Agamemnon, the Grecian gen-
eral, Troilus and Cressida:
Act I, sc. iii; Act II, sc. iii;
Act III, sc. iii; Act IV, sc. v;
Act V, sc. i, V, ix
Agrippa, friend to Caesar, Antony
and Cleopatra: Act II, sc. ii,
iv, vii; Act III, sc. ii, vi; Act
IV, sc. i, vi, vii; Act V, sc. i
Agrippa, Men^nius, friend to
Coriolanus, Coriolanus: Act
I, sc. i; Act II, sc. i, ii, iii;
Act III, sc. i, ii, iii; Act IV,
sc. i, ii, vi; Act V, sc. i, ii, iv
Aguecheek, Sir Andrew, Twelfth
Night: Act I, sc. iii; Act II,
sc. iii, v; Act III, sc. i, ii, iv;
Act IV, sc. i; Act V, sc. i
Ajax, a Grecian commander,
Troilus and Cressida: Act II,
sc. i, iii; Act III, sc. iii; Act
IV, sc. v; Act V, sc. i, V, vi,
ix
Alarbus, son to Tamara, Titus
Andronicus : Act I, sc. i
Albany, Duke of. King Lear:
Act I, sc. i, iv; Act IV, sc.
ii; Act V, sc. i, iii
Alcibiades, an Athenian captain,
Timon of Athens: Act I, sc.
i, ii; Act II, sc. ii; Act III,
sc. v; Act IV, sc. iii; Act V,
sc. iv
Alencon, Duke of. King Henry
VI: Part 1, Act I, sc. ii, vi;
Act II, sc. i; Act III, sc. ii,
iii; Act IV, sc. viij Act V,
sc. ii, iv
192
SHAKESPEARE
Index of Characters
Alexander, servant to Cressida,
Troilus and Cressida: Act I,
sc. ii
Alexas, attendant on Cleopatra,
Antony and Cleopatra: Act I,
sc. ii, iii, v; Act II, sc. v; Act
III, sc. iii; Act IV, sc. ii, vii
Alice, a lady attending on
Katharine, King Henry V:
Act III, sc. iv; Act V, sc. ii
Alonso, King of Naples, The
Tempest: Act I, sc. i; Act II,
sc. i; Act III, sc. iii; Act V,
sc. i
Amiens, lord attending on the
banished Duke, As You Like
It: Act II, sc. i, V, vii; Act
V, sc. iv
Andhomache,' wife to Hector,
Troilus and Cressida: Act V,
sc. iii
Andronicus, Marcus, tribune of
the people, brother to Titus,
Titus Andronicus: Act I, sc.
i; Act II, sc. ii, iv; Aot III,
sc. i, ii; Act IV, sc. i, iii; Act
V, sc. ii, iii
Andronicus, Titus, a noble Ro-
man, Titus Andronicus: Act
I, sc. i; Act II, sc. ii, iii; Act
III, sc. i, ii; Act IV, sc. i, iii
Angelo, a goldsmith. The Com-
edy of Errors: Act III, sc. i,
ii; Act IV, sc. i; Act V, sc. i
Angelo, Deputy, Pleasure for
Measure: Act I, sc. i; Act
II, sc. i, ii, iv; Act iV, sc. iv;