Shakespeare's tragedy of Coriolanus

Front matter

Class. Wf

Book___

Copyright^ .

Introduction

Date of Composition.

THE Tragedy of Coriolanus was never printed till in the folio of 1623, and is among the worst specimens of printing in that volume. The text as there delivered abounds in palpable corruptions : critical sagacity and ingenuity have done their utmost, apparently, towards rectifying the numerous errors, and in not a few cases have been rewarded with fair success ; still there are some passages that seem too much for corrective art.

The tragedy is not heard of at all through any notice or allusion made during the author's life : in fact, we have no contemporary note, of reference to it whatever, save in an elegy on Richard Burbage, 1 where we learn that the hero's part was sustained by that celebrated actor. So that we are left without any external evidence as to the date of the writing. Nor does the piece itself contain a traceable vestige of allusion to any known contemporary events ; such, for instance, as that to the new creation of baronets in Othello. Our only argument, therefore, as regards the time of composition lies in marks of style, use of language, and complexion of imagery and thought ; in all which respects it clearly falls among the very latest of the Poet's writing. Certainly no

1 Burbage died in 1619, and a copy of an elegy written on that occasion was discovered some years ago among Mr. Heber's manuscripts. See In= troduction to Othello, page 4.

play of the series surpasses it, and very few, if any, equal it, in boldness of metaphor, in autocratic prerogative of expression, or in passages marked by an overcrowding of matter or an over-compression of language. The strength of civil wisdom, also, the searching anatomy of public characters and motives, the wide and firm grasp of social and political questions, in short, the whole moral and intellectual climate of the piece, — all concur with the former notes in marking it off to the Poet's highest maturity of thought and power. Therewithal I hold it to be among his greatest triumphs in organization : I cannot point out, I believe no one has pointed out, a single instance where the parts might have been better ordered for the proper effect of the whole ; while the interest never once flags or falters, nor suffers any break or diversion, from the beginning to the end : rather say, it holds on with ever-increasing force throughout, and draws all the details into its current ; so that the unity of impression is literally perfect. In this great point of dramatic architecture, I think it bears the palm clean away from both the other Roman tragedies ; and indeed I am not sure but it should be set down as the peer of Othello.

Historic Material.

In this, as in the other Roman plays, the historical matter was drawn from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch. The events of the drama as related in the old Greek's Life of Coriola?ius extend over a period of about four years, from the popular secession to the Sacred Mount, B.C. 494, to the hero's death, B.C. 490. The capture of Corioli is now reckoned to the year B.C. 493.

The severity of criticism applied in recent times has made rather sweeping work with the dim heroic traditions of old

Rome ; insomuch that the story of Coriolanus has now come to be generally regarded as among the most beautiful of the early Roman legends. With these questions, however, Shakespeare of course did not concern himself : like others of his time, he was content to take the rambling and credulous, but lively and graphic narratives of Plutarch as veritable and authentic history. And he would have been every way justifiable in doing this, even if the later arts of historic doubting and sifting, together with the results thereof, had been at his command. For his business as an artist was to set forth a free and life-like portraiture of human character as modified by the old Roman nationality, and clothed with the drapery of the old Roman manners. Here, then, the garrulous and gossiping old story-teller of Cheronea was just the man for him ; since it will hardly be questioned that his tales, whether legendary or not, are replete with the spirit and life of the times and places to which they refer.

The Coriolanus of Plutarch offered the Poet a capital basis for the construction of a great dramatic hero. Hardly any other passage indeed of Roman history could furnish so grand and inviting a theme for personal delineation. The main outlines of the man's character, and also the principal actions ascribed to him, are copied faithfully from the historian ; while those outlines are filled up and finished with a wealth of invention and a depth of judgment which the Poet has perhaps nowhere surpassed. The proportions are indeed gigantic, not to say superhuman ; so much so, that the boldest of delineators might well have scrupled such a portrait, but that he had so strong a warrant of historic faith to bear him out. The other personal figures, also, with the one exception of Menenius Agrippa, were in like sort derived from the same time-honoured repository. And the point most worth noting is, that from the parts and fragments thence derived, rich and fresh as these often are, th : Poet should have reproduced, as it were, the entire form and order of their being, creating an atmosphere and environing which so fit and cohere with what he borrowed, that the whole has the air and movement of an original work. For it may be observed that all the humorous and amusing scenes — and Shakespeare has few that are more choicely conceived or more aptly used — are supplied from the Poet's own mind ; there being no hint towards these in Plutarch, except the fable rehearsed and applied by old Menenius, who is merely described as one of " the pleasantest old men, and the most acceptable to the people." And yet how exquisite the keeping of these scenes with the other matter of the play ! and how perfectly steeped they seem to be in the very genius and spirit of the old Roman life and manners !

Nor does the Poet's borrowing in this case stop with incidents or with lines of character : it extends to the very words and sentences of the old translator, and this sometimes for a considerable space together. In illustration of this, I copy, with slight abridgment, the passage describing the flight of Coriolanus to Antium, and his reception by Aufidius :

" It was even twilight when he entered the city, and many people met him in the streets, but no man knew him. So he went immediately to Tullus Aufidius' house, and when he came thither he got him up straight to the chimney-hearth, and sat him down, and spake not a word, his face all muffled over. They of the house spying him wondered what he should be, yet they durst not bid him rise : for, disguised as he was, yet there appeared a certain majesty in his countenance and in his silence ; whereupon they went to Tullus who was at supper, to tell him of the strange disguising of this man. Tullus rose presently from the board, and coming towards him asked who he was, and wherefore he came. Then Marcius unmuffled himself, and, after he had paused awhile, said ' If thou knowest me not yet, Tullus, and seeing me dost not believe me to be the man I am indeed, I must of necessity bewray myself to be that I am. I am Caius Marcius, who hath done to thyself particularly, and to all the Volsces generally, great hurt and mischief, which I cannot deny for my surname Coriolanus that I bear. For I never had other benefit of the painful service I have done, and the extreme dangers I have been in, but this surname ; — a good memory and witness of the malice and displeasure thou shouldest bear me. Indeed the name only remaineth with me : for the rest the envy and cruelty of the people of Rome have taken from me, by the sufferance of the dastardly Nobility and magistrates, who have forsaken me, and let me be banished by the people. This extremity hath now driven me to come as a poor suitor, to take thy chimney-hearth : not of any hope I have to save my life thereby ; for if I had feared death, I would not have come hither to put myself in hazard ; but pricked forward with desire to be revenged of them that thus have banished me ; which now I do begin, in putting my person into the hands of their enemies. Wherefore, if thou hast any heart to be wreaked of the injuries thy enemies have done thee, speed thee now, and let my misery serve thy turn, and so use it, that my services may be a benefit to the Volsces ; promising thee that I will fight with better will for you than I did when I was against you ; knowing that they fight more valiantly who know the force of the enemy than such as have never proved it. But if it be so that thou dare not, and art weary to prove fortune any more, then am I also weary to live any longer. And it were no

8 COR10LANUS.

wisdom in thee to save the life of him who hath been heretofore thy mortal enemy, and whose service now can nothing help nor pleasure thee.' Tullus, hearing what he said, was a marvellous glad man, and, taking him by the hand, said unto him, ' Stand up, O Marcius, and be of good cheer : for in proffering thyself unto us thou doest us great honour ; and by this means thou mayest hope also of greater things at all the Volsces' hands.' So he feasted him for that time, and entertained him in the honourablest manner he could, talking with him of no other matter at that present ; but within a few days they fell to consultation in what sort they should begin their wars."

To this I must add the still more remarkable passage relating the visit of the Roman ladies to the enemy's camp, and the interview between Volumnia and her son :

" Now was Marcius set in his chair of state, and when he spied the women coming afar off he marvelled what it meant; but afterwards, knowing his wife, who came foremost, he determined at the first to persist in his rancour. But in the end, being altered to see them, his heart would not serve him to tarry their coming to his chair ; but, coming down in haste, he went to meet them, and first he kissed his mother and embraced her awhile, then his wife and little children. And nature so wrought in him, that the tears fell from his eyes, and he could not keep himself from making much of them. Then, perceiving that his mother would speak, he called the chiefest of the Volsces to hear what she would say. Then she spake in this sort :

" ' If we held our peace, my son, and determined not to speak, the state of our poor bodies and present sight of our raiment would easily bewray to thee what life we have led at home since thy exile : but think now with thyself how much more unfortunate than all the women living we are come hither, considering that the sight which should be most pleasant to behold, spiteful fortune hath made most fearful to us ; making myself to see my son, and my daughter here her husband, besieging the walls of his native country ; so as that which is the only comfort to all others in their adversity, to pray unto the gods and to call to them for aid, is the thing which plungeth us in most deep perplexity. For we cannot, alas ! together pray both for victory to our country and for safety of thy life ; but a world of grievous curses, yea, more than any mortal enemy can heap upon us, are forcibly wrapped up in our prayers. For the bitter sop of most hard choice is offered thy wife and children either to lose the person of thyself or the nurse of their native country. For myself, my son, I am determined not to tarry till fortune in my lifetime do make an end of this war ; for, if I cannot persuade thee rather to do good unto both parties than to overthrow and destroy the one, trust unto it, thou shalt no sooner march forward to assault thy country, but thy foot shall tread upon thy mother's womb, that brought thee first into this world. And I may not defer to see the day, either that my son be led prisoner in triumph by his natural countrymen or that he himself do triumph of them. If it were so that my request tended to save thy country in destroying the Volsces, I must confess thou wouldest hardly resolve on that : for, as to destroy thy country is altogether unmeet and unlawful ; so were it not just, and less honourable, to betray those that put their trust in thee. But my only demand consisteth to make a jaildelivery of all evils, which delivereth equal benefit and safety to both, but most honourable to the Volsces. For it shall appear that, having victory in their hands, they have granted

IO CORIOLANUS.

us singular graces, peace and amity ; of which good, if so it come to pass, thyself is the only author, and so hast thou the honour. But, if it fail, thyself alone shall carry the shameful reproach of either party. So, though the end of war be uncertain, yet this is most certain, — that, if it be thy chance to conquer, this benefit shalt thou reap of thy goodly conquest, to be chronicled the plague and destroyer of thy country. And if fortune overthrow thee, then the world will say, that through desire to revenge thy private injuries thou hast for ever undone thy friends who did most lovingly receive thee. — My son, why dost thou not answer me? Dost thou take it honourable for a noble man to remember the wrongs and injuries done him, and dost not think it an honest man's part to be thankful for the goodness that parents do show to their children ? No man living is more bound to show himself thankful in all parts and respects than thyself. Thou hast not hitherto showed thy poor mother any courtesy, and therefore it is not only honest, but due unto me, that I should obtain my so just and reasonable request of thee. But since by reason I cannot persuade thee, to what purpose do I defer my last hope ? '

"With these words, herself, his wife, and children fell down upon their knees before him. Marcius seeing that could refrain no longer, but went straight and lift her up, crying out, ' O mother, what have you done to me ? ' And, holding her hard by the right hand, ' O mother,' said he, 1 you have won a happy victory for your country, but mortal and unhappy for your son ; for I see myself vanquished by you alone.' These words being spoken openly, he spake a little apart with his mother and wife, and then let them return to Rome, for so they did request him ; and so, remaining in the camp that night, the next morning he dislodged, and marched into the Volsces' country again "

Shakespeare's Treatment of the Subject.

I have said that Coriolanus as drawn by Plutarch held out strong and taking points of natural aptness for use as a grand dramatic hero, and that the Poet's delineation is marked by a substantial and even formal adherence to the legend in the main outlines of the character. Such a bold structure of old Roman manhood, or, if you please, such a bold reflection of the old Roman ideas and sentiments of manhood, must have been potently fascinating to Shakespeare's mind : it was a subject for him to stretch his powers upon. But the matter, I think, had yet other attractions for him. For the social and political principles involved in those early struggles of the Herculean infant Commonwealth are among the gravest and most fruitful that human history has ever turned up to view. The whole subsequent life and grandeur of the Roman State were depending on the questions then in issue between the several orders of the people. So that the deepest problems of man's social and civil being came along naturally in the train of the hero's character. And Shakespeare's mode of treating the subject shows that he understood all this perfectly. The grand philosophic impartiality with which he weighs the different forces in action, and casts up or carries on in his mind the sum-total of results, fairly argues the matter to have been no less attractive to him as a field for discursive reason than for dramatic representation. The selection and disposing of the incidents, and the whole shaping and drift of the action, are ordered with consummate skill to this end. The historical events are seized not only in their richest poetical aspect, but also in their deepest political relations and bearings. And Shakespeare's mighty intellect may here almost be said to wanton and luxuriate on the very marrow of civil and philosophical discourse ; insomuch that we may justly apply in this behalf the saying of Schlegel, that " under the seeming artlessness of adhering closely to history as he found it, a high degree of art is concealed."

Accordingly from the scenes of this play may be gathered, directly or by quick inference, a code and stock of practical wisdom large enough and various enough to furnish out the moralist and the statesman. Especially we here seem to have the concentrated essence of all that has been written, or that can be said, touching the relative claims of aristocracy and democracy. Nor need we travel any further to learn all there is to be known touching the genius and method of demagogic craft and management. In the two Tribunes we have a full-drawn type of the class of men who in every age have made it their business or their pastime to wheedle and cajole and bamboozle the ignorant multitude, and drive them about in herds. At the same time, the rights of the people against those who would insult and oppress them are held in just and steady recognition. The whole work indeed bespeaks a mind which, without any loss of vigour or spirit, has ripened up into a sage-like calmness, clearness, and sobriety ; which, as from a world- commanding eminence, has made a full and complete survey of humanity ; which knows men through and through, both as individuals and as members of the body politic ; and which understands how man and man, rank and rank, class and class, sex and sex, act and react on one another in all the civil and social relations of life : so that he can view and touch them, play or be serious with them, laugh at or instruct them, as one that is thoroughly at home both among and within them. Yet this large and varied science is kept in due subordination to the nature and law of the work, which is in no sort an essay or a treatise, nor carries any shade of a didactic purpose in its face, but is simply an elevation of history into pure drama. If indeed I were to mark the distinctive excellence of the piece, I should set it down as standing in a free union of the moral and political idea with the dramatic, or of the philosophic mind with the poetic.

Rights of the People "well Respected.

Hazlitt charges that in this play the Poet shows a strong leaning to the side of Patrician arrogance and pride against the rights and feelings of the people. Therewithal he expatiates at large to make out how much more of poetry there is in the high treadings of aristocratic insolence than in the modest walking of Plebeian humility. According to his notion, a wolf raging among a flock of sheep is a far more poetical object than the terrified flock. This is " an old fond paradox," which would persuade us there is naturally more beauty in the doing of wrong than in the suffering of wrong, thus divorcing poetry from that which is right and good. For my part, I prefer a different faith ; and I confess to finding more of poetry in Burns's "wee, modest crimson-tipped flower" than in the high-flaunting plant that with its coarse proud face seems to mock the Sun.

There is, I believe, no ground for such a charge as Hazlitt' s in this case. On the contrary, the play, I think, may be justly cited as a pattern of dramatic evenhandedness. The ugly and offensive points of the hero, those which draw upon him the people's hatred, are set forth unsparingly ; not indeed naked and alone, for this were turning them into caricature, but in combination with high and noble traits, just as delivered in the history, and just as we are finding them perpetually in actual men. So, on the other side, much that is good and generous in the people, as well as what is envious and mean, has a kindly and cordial showing, sometimes playful indeed, and sometimes otherwise ; but still so as, in effect, to engage them more of sympathy than of contempt. They are represented as bearing much, forgiving much ; free to acknowledge the greatness of the haughty Patrician, and not more resenting his insolence than regretting it ; and never withheld from making fair returns of honour even against many and. great provocations, till set on fire by the tongues of ambitious and self-seeking agitators. If there be any person in the play whom the Poet leans to more than another, it is old Menenius, a frank, patriotic, liberal soul, who is genially and lovingly humorous towards the people even when his eye is upon their faults, yet free and upright in reproving them, though at the same time mindful of their virtues ; who smilingly stoops to play jokes upon them, that so he may soothe and sweeten their exasperated minds ; using his good-natured wit to heal as fast as his sharpness wounds ; and thus standing at an equal remove from the insulting aristocrat and the snaky demagogue.

I will even venture to say that the people as here represented have in them a preponderance of the amiable and the good, while in the hero there is a clear preponderance of the reverse. It is true, they are something inconstant and uncertain in their temper, insomuch as to be reproached by him that "with every minute they do change a mind"; but he is quite as changeable as they, and withal much less excusable in his inconstancy. They do not indeed like to be scorned and mocked by their superiors, especially those who are soliciting their favour and support ; whereas he, in his overwrought and passionate egotism, takes care to make them feel his contempt even while he is begging their votes. To be sure, he is frank and honest in his flouts and scoffs ; but then he might be equally frank and honest in abstaining from them : or, if he cannot be kind and courteous to the people without being false to himself, this only argues the greater viciousness of temper in him. He, in his towering arrogance, would have his own will stand as an ultimate law both for himself and for them ; but they are far from claiming any such monstrous prerogative over him : it is his pride to act towards them as if they had no business to exist but for the pleasure of such as he is ; while they are merely acting on the principle that their own welfare and happiness should enter into the purpose of their living : he would stand " as if a man were author of himself, and knew no other kin," and would have them live entirely for his ends ; whereas they insist on living partly for themselves ; and all they claim is, that he shall own his nature to be kindred with theirs, and treat them as having the same human heart which beats in him. Thus their spirit is sociable and sympathetic ; his, solitary and exclusive : he craves to dwell aloft where nothing but his own individuality can breathe ; they prize the life which all have in common, and are for having the individual will of each tempered into harmony with that life.

Such is about the aspect which this delineation of old Roman society wears to me. So regarding it, of course I cannot see that the hero is glorified at the expense of the people. He does indeed make a grander figure than they do : this was required both by the nature of the subject and by the laws of dramatic interest : but his grandeur, though it draws the imagination, is of a kind to repel the heart. We wonder at the man, but are far from loving him or wishing to be like him. True, at the capture of Corioli, the Poet makes the people fall to plundering, which draws upon them a storm of reproach from the hero : but this was in the history ; moreover such has been the practice of common soldiers in all ages and places of the world. In short, the representation given of the people in this play is at all points true to the life : so that it does not well appear how those who despise them as here characterized can fail to despise them as they are in fact. To my thinking, the Poet's multitude in this case are both better and wiser than their Patrician contemner.

Delineation of the Hero.

The remarks already made infer pride to be the backbone of the hero's character ; this too a pride standing partly indeed on class and family grounds, but still more on such as are purely individual or personal. And such is the idea of the man which Shakespeare found in Plutarch, who prefaces his narrative with the following calm and weighty sentences touching the subject :

" While the force and vigour of his soul, and a persevering constancy in all he undertook, led him successfully into many noble achievements, yet, on the other side, by indulging the vehemence of his passion, and through an obstinate reluctance to yield or accommodate his humours and sentiments to those of people about him, he rendered himself incapable of acting and associating with others. Those who saw with admiration how proof his nature was against all the softness of pleasure, the hardships of service, and the allurements of gain, while allowing to that universal firmness of his the respective names of temperance, fortitude, and justice, yet, in the life of the citizen and the statesman, could not choose but be disgusted at the severity and ruggedness of his deportment, and with his overbearing, haughty, and imperious temper. Education and study, and the favours of the Muses, confer no greater benefit on those that seek them than these humanizing and civilizing lessons, which teach our natural qualities to submit to the limitations prescribed by reason, and to avoid the wildness of extremes."

In accordance with what is here said, Shakespeare not only makes pride the hero's master-principle, but also sets forth his pride as being rendered altogether inflammable and uncontrollable by passion ; insomuch that, if a spark of provocation is struck into the latter, the former instantly flames up beyond measure, and sweeps away all the regards of prudence, of decorum, and even of common sense. It is therefore strictly characteristic of the man, that an unexpected word of reproach stings him to the quick : the instant it touches his ear, he explodes like a rocket. It is on this that the wily Tribunes work, plying their craft, and watching the time to sting him into some fatal provocation of popular resentment. Hence, also, the Poet, with great judgment, and without any hint from the history, makes Aufidius, when the time is ripe for firing off the conspiracy against his life, touch him into an ecstasy of passionate rage by spitting the term boy at him. Now his very pride, if duly guarded by the strengths of reason and self-respect, would have caused him, from the utter unfitness of such an spithet, to answer it with calm and silent scorn : but he resents it in proportion as it strikes wide of him, and makes its very absurdity the cause of its power over him.

The people, too, would gladly reward his noble acts with the highest honours in their gift, but that, to their sense, " he pays himself with being proud." They glory in his valour and prowess ; his strength of heart and of hand is to them a theme of willing praise ; but they complain, as they well may, that he is too proud of being so valiant : nay, an instinct of social reason tells them, and truly too, that his heroic exploits are done rather with a view to nurse and pamper his pride and self-will than from any impulse of patriotism, of public spirit, or even of honourable ambition : in short, it is not at all to win their respect and goodwill, but only to feed his inordinate egotism, that he enacts the hero. They are even so liberal as to grant that the fault is something ingenerate in his nature, so that he cannot altogether help it, and are ready to make large allowance for him on this score : but then the more he helps them by his deeds, the more he wounds them with his insolence ; nay, he seems to delight in serving them, only that he may turn his service into a vantage-ground for spurning them ; and this is what they cannot bear, because it seems to them, as indeed it is, truly inhuman, and renders him unfit for any sort of intercourse with men.