CHAPTER II.
THE DEATH OF SHAKSPEARE—OBSERVATIONS ON HIS WILL—ON THE DISPOSITION AND MORAL CHARACTER OF SHAKSPEARE—ON THE MONUMENT ERECTED TO HIS MEMORY, AND ON THE ENGRAVING OF HIM PREFIXED TO THE FIRST FOLIO EDITION OF HIS PLAYS—CONCLUSION.
The death of Shakspeare, of which the closing paragraph of the last chapter had afforded us an intimation, took place on Tuesday, the 23d of April, 1616, on his birth-day, and when he had exactly completed his fifty-second year. It is remarkable, that on the same day expired, in Spain, his great and amiable contemporary, Cervantes; the world being thus deprived, nearly at the same moment, of the two most original writers which modern Europe has produced.
That not the smallest account of the disease which terminated so valuable a life, should have been transmitted to posterity, is perhaps equally singular; and the more so, as our poet was, no doubt, attended by his son-in-law, Dr. Hall, who was then forty years of age; and who should have recollected, that the circumstances which led to the dissolution of such a man, had, whether professionally important or not, a claim to preservation and publicity. But the age was a most incurious one, as to the personal history of literary men; and Hall, who left for publication a manuscript collection of cases, selected from not less than a thousand diseases, has omitted the only one which could have secured to his work any permanent interest or value.[611:A]
On the second day after his decease, the remains of Shakspeare were committed to the grave; being buried on the 25th of April, on the north side of the chancel of the great church of Stratford.
Fortunately, some light has been thrown upon the domestic circumstances of the poet, by the preservation of his Will, yet extant in the Prerogative Court, and which, though often published, we have again introduced, as a necessary appendage to our work.
The most striking features in this document, are the apparent neglect of his wife, and the favouritism exhibited with regard to his eldest daughter. Mrs. Shakspeare, indeed, was so entirely forgotten in the original Will, that the only bequest which her husband makes her, of his "second best bed, with the furniture," is introduced by an interlineation.
This omission, and the trifling nature of the legacy, have given birth to some conjectures on the part of his biographers and commentators. Oldys, misapplying the language of one of his sonnets, has hinted, that the poet entertained some doubts as to the fidelity of his beautiful wife; an intimation which soon after occasioned a curious controversy between Messrs. Steevens and Malone; the latter impeaching, and the former defending the conjugal affection of their bard. "His wife had not wholly escaped his memory," observes Mr. Malone; "he had forgot her,—he had recollected her,—but so recollected her, as more strongly to mark how little he esteemed her; he had already (as it is vulgarly expressed,) cut her off, not indeed with a shilling, but with an old bed." "That our poet was jealous of this lady," remarks Mr. Steevens, "is an unwarrantable conjecture. Having, in times of health and prosperity, provided for her by settlement, (or knowing that her father had already done so,) he bequeathed to her at his death, not merely _an old piece of furniture_, but perhaps, as a mark of peculiar tenderness,
"The very bed that on his bridal night Received him to the arms of Belvidera."[612:A]
In fact, we do know that Shakspeare married for love, but we do not know of any the smallest intimation or hint, previous to the wild conjecture of Oldys, that coolness or estrangement had subsisted between the poet and his wife. We have every right, therefore, to conclude, that Mrs. Shakspeare had been previously and amply provided for, either by her husband, or by her father, whose circumstances are represented by Rowe, as having been "substantial." We may, at least, rest satisfied, as well from the known integrity of Shakspeare, as from the humanity of his disposition, that nothing harsh or unjust had been committed by him on this occasion. Indeed, had the case been otherwise, the love of mankind for propagating what tends to deteriorate superior characters, would, doubtless, have protected such a family-anecdote from oblivion.
Why the executorship was intrusted to Dr. Hall and his lady, may be readily conceived to have originated, independent of their being the persons principally concerned, in the knowledge of the poet that the former, who was a man of business, was much better calculated, than Mrs. Shakspeare could possibly be, for carrying the will into execution.
That superior qualities of the head and heart, more especially when united, are entitled, even under the parental roof, to marked distinction, who will deny? and that such were the blended qualities which rendered Susanna the favourite of her father may be certainly inferred from the circumstance that, while we hear nothing of Judith, but that she is supposed to have married contrary to her father's wishes, of Susanna we are told that she was "witty above her sex;" that she had "something of Shakspeare" in her, and, above all, that she was "wise to salvation," that she "wept with all that wept, yet set herself to chear them up with comforts." To a child thus great and good, we need not wonder that Shakspeare paid a delighted deference.[613:A]
It may be objected that, however superior the elder daughter might be in point of intellect and moral sensibility, if the younger had done nothing worse than marry without her father's approbation, no great difference should have been made between them in the distribution of his property. But we must recollect, that they moved in different circles, that whilst Susanna was united to a physician, who being in great practice, and intimate with the first families in the neighbourhood, was obliged to support an establishment of much expense, Judith was the wife of a vintner, a station comparatively inferior, and not necessarily requiring such an expenditure. Under these considerations we shall probably be induced to acquit the poet of any undue partiality, and to view the provisions of his Will as neither disproportioned to the stations nor inadequate to the necessities of the parties concerned.
To the disposition and moral character of Shakspeare, tradition has ever borne the most uniform and favourable testimony. And, indeed, had she been silent on the subject, his own works would have whispered to us the truth; would have told us, in almost every page, of the gentleness, the benevolence, and the goodness of his heart. For, though no one has exceeded him in painting the stronger passions of the human breast, it is evident that he delighted most in the expression of loveliness and simplicity, and was ever willing to descend from the loftiest soarings of imagination, to sport with innocence and beauty. Though "the world of spirits and of nature," says the admirable Schlegel, "had laid all their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god, in profundity of view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a protecting spirit of a higher order, he yet lowered himself to mortals as if unconscious of his superiority, and was as open and unassuming as a child."[614:A]
That a temper of this description, and combined with such talents, should be the object of sincere and ardent friendship, can excite no surprise. "I loved the man," says Jonson, with a noble burst of enthusiasm, "and do honour his memory on this side idolatry as much as any. He was, indeed, honest; and of an open and free nature;" and Rowe, repeating the uncontradicted rumour of times past, has told us,—"that every one, who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem for him;" adding, "that his exceeding candour and good-nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him."[615:A]
No greater proof, indeed, can be given of the felicity of his temper, and the sweetness of his manners, than that all who addressed him, seem to have uniformly connected his name with the epithets _worthy_, _gentle_, or _beloved_[615:B]; nor was he backward in returning this esteem, many of his sonnets indicating the warmth with which he cherished the remembrance of his friends. Thus the thirtieth opens with the following pensive retrospect:—
"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh—— For precious friends hid in death's dateless night;"
and in the thirty-first he tenderly exclaims,—
"How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, As interest of the dead!"
Another very fascinating feature in the character of Shakspeare, was the almost constant cheerfulness and serenity of his mind: he was "verie good company," says Aubrey, "and of a very ready, and _pleasant_, and _smooth_ witt."[615:C] In this, as Mr. Godwin has justly observed, he bore a striking resemblance to Chaucer, who was remarkable for the placidity and cheerfulness of his disposition[616:A]; nor can there, probably, be a surer indication of that peace and sunshine of the soul which surpasses all other gifts, than this habitual tone of mind.
That Shakspeare was entitled to its possession from his _moral_ virtues, we have already seen; and that, in a _religious_ point of view, he had a claim to the enjoyment, the numerous passages in his works, which breathe a spirit of pious gratitude and devotional rapture, will sufficiently declare. In fact, upon the topic of religious, as upon that of ethic wisdom, no profane poet can furnish us with a greater number of just and luminous aphorisms; passages which dwell upon the heart and reach the soul, for they have issued from lips of fire, from conceptions worthy of a superior nature, from feelings solemn and unearthly.
To these observations on the disposition and moral character of Shakspeare, we must add a few remarks on the _taste_ which he seems to have possessed, in an exquisite degree, for all the forms of beauty, whether resulting from nature or from art. No person can study his writings, indeed, without perceiving, that, throughout the vast range of being, whatever is lovely and harmonious, whatever is sweet in expression, or graceful in proportion, was constantly present to his mind; that
——————————— "on every part, In earth, or air, the meadow's purple stores, The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's form, ——————————— he saw pourtray'd That uncreated beauty, which delights The mind supreme."[616:B]
Nor was he a less delighted worshipper of the imitative efforts of art. With what taste and enthusiasm, he has spoken of the effects of music, has been already observed; but it remains to notice in what a sublime spirit of piety he refers this concord of sweet sounds, to its source in that transcript of Almighty, "the world's harmonious volume:—"
"There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eye'd cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it."[617:A]
Of the beauties of painting and sculpture he appears to have had a keen and lively discernment. On Julio Romano, the most poetical, perhaps, of painters, he has pronounced, that "_had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, 'he' would beguile Nature of her custom_[617:B];" and of his masterly appreciation of the art of sculpture, the following lines from the _The Winter's Tale_, where Paulina unveils to Leontes the supposed statue of Hermione, afford evidence beyond all praise:—
"_Paul._ ——————————— Here it is: prepare To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever Still sleep mock'd death: behold; and say, 'tis well. (_Paulina undraws a curtain, and discovers a statue._ I like your silence, it the more shews off Your wonder: but yet speak;— Comes it not something near?
_Leont._ Her natural posture!— —————————————— Oh, thus she stood, Even with such life of majesty,— —————— when first I woo'd her!— Would I were dead, but that, methinks already— What was he, that did make it? See, my lord, Would you not deem it breath'd? and that these veins Did verily bear blood?
_Paul._ Masterly done: The very life seems warm upon her lip.
_Leont._ The fixure of her eye has motion in't, As we are mock'd with art:— ———————————— Still methinks, There is an air comes from her: what fine chizzel Could ever yet cut breath?—
_Paul._ —————————— Shall I draw the curtain?
_Leont._ No, not these twenty years."[618:A]
To the memory of a poet who, independent of the matchless talents which he has exhibited in his own peculiar province, had shown such proofs of his attachment to the sister arts, some tribute, from these departments of genius, might naturally be expected, and was certainly due. Nor was it long ere the debt of gratitude was paid; _before_ the year 1623, a monument, containing a bust of the poet, had been erected in Stratford Church, immediately above the grave which inclosed his hallowed relics. The tradition of his native town is, that this bust was copied from a cast after nature.[618:B] It is placed beneath an arch, and between two Corinthian columns of black marble, and represents the poet in a sitting posture, with a cushion spread before him, holding a pen in his right hand, whilst his left rests upon a scroll of paper. The entablature exhibits the arms of Shakspeare surmounted by a death's head, with an infantine form sitting on each side; that on the right supporting, in the same hand, a spade, and the figure on the left, whose eyes are closed, reposing its right hand on a skull, whilst the other holds an inverted torch.[618:C]
On a tablet below the cushion are engraved the two following inscriptions:
"Judicio Pylivm, genio Socratem, arte Maronem, Terra tegit, popvlvs mœret, Olympvs habet."
"Stay passenger, why goest thov by so fast, Read, if thov canst, whom envious death hath plast Within this monument, Shakspeare; with whome Quick natvre dide; whose name doth deck ys tombe Far more than cost; sieth all yt. he hath writt, Leaves living art, bvt page to serve his witt. Obiit Ano. Doi. 1616. Ætatis 53. Die 23. Ap."
A flat stone which covers his grave, presents us with these singular lines, said to have been written by the bard himself, and which were probably suggested, as Mr. Malone has remarked, "by an apprehension that 'his' remains might share the same fate with those of the rest of his countrymen, and be added to the immense pile of human bones deposited in the charnel-house at Stratford:—[619:A]
"Good frend, for Jesvs sake forbeare To digg the dvst encloased heare; Blese be ye. man yt. spares thes stones, And cvrst be he yt. moves my bones."
We view the monumental bust of Shakspeare, observes Mr. Britton, "as a family record; as a memorial raised by the affection and esteem of his relatives, to keep alive contemporary admiration, and to excite the glow of enthusiasm in posterity. This invaluable 'effigy' is attested by tradition, consecrated by time, and preserved in the inviolability of its own simplicity and sacred station. It was evidently executed immediately after the poet's decease; and probably under the superintendance of his son-in-law, Dr. Hall, and his daughter; the latter of whom, according to her epitaph, was 'witty above her sexe,' and therein like her father. Leonard Digges, in a poem praising the works and worth of Shakspeare, and published within seven years after his death, speaks of the Stratford monument as a well-known object. Dugdale, in his 'Antiquities of Warwickshire,' 1656, gives a plate of the monument, but drawn and engraved in a truly tasteless and inaccurate style, and observes in the text, that the poet was _famous_, and thus entitled to such distinction. Langbaine, in his 'Account of English Dramatic Poets,' 1691, pronounces the Stratford bust Shakspeare's 'true effigies.' These are decided proofs of its antiquity; and we may safely conclude that it was intended to be a faithful portrait of the poet.—
"The Bust is the size of life; it is formed out of a block of soft stone; and was originally painted over in imitation of nature. The hands and face were of flesh colour, the eyes of a light hazle, and the hair and beard auburn; the doublet or coat was scarlet, and covered with a loose black gown, or tabard, without sleeves; the upper part of the cushion was green, the under half crimson, and the tassels gilt.[620:A] Such appear to have been the original features of this important, but neglected or insulted bust. After remaining in this state above one hundred and twenty years, Mr. John Ward, grandfather to Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kemble, caused it to be 'repaired,' and the original colours preserved[620:B], in 1748, from the profits of the representation of Othello. This was a generous, and apparently judicious act; and therefore very unlike the next alteration it was subjected to in 1793. In that year, Mr. Malone caused the bust to be covered over with one or more coats of white paint; and thus at once destroyed its original character, and greatly injured the expression of the face.[621:A] Having absurdly characterized this expression for 'pertness,' and therefore 'differing from that placid composure and thoughtful gravity so perceptible in his _original_ portrait, and his best prints,' Mr. M. could have few scruples about injuring or destroying it. In this very act, and in this line of comment, our zealous annotator has passed an irrevocable sentence on his own judgment. If the opinions of some of the best sculptors and painters of the metropolis are entitled to respect and confidence on such a subject, that of Mr. Malone is at once false and absurd. They justly remark, that the face indicates cheerfulness, good humour, suavity, benignity and intelligence. These characteristics are developed by the mouth and its muscles—by the cheeks—eye-brows—forehead—and skull; and hence they rationally infer, that the face is worked from nature."[621:B]
With these observations, which seem the result of a just and discriminating judgment, we feel happy in coinciding; having had an opportunity, in the summer of 1815, of visiting this celebrated monument, for the purpose of gratifying what we conceive to be a laudable curiosity. When on the spot, we felt convinced, from the circumstances which have been preserved relative to the erection of this bust; from the period of life at which the poet died, and above all, from the character, distinctness and expression of the features themselves, that this invaluable relique may be considered as a correct resemblance of our beloved bard.
That he was "_a handsome well shaped man_," we are expressly informed by Aubrey, and universal tradition has attributed to him _cheerfulness_ and _good temper_. Now the Stratford effigy tells us all this, together with the character of his age, in language which cannot be mistaken; and it once superadded to the little which has been recorded of his person, what we have no doubt was accurately given by the original painter of his bust, the colour of his eyes and the beautiful auburn of his hair.
But it tells us still more; for the impress of that mighty mind which ranged at will through all the realms of nature and of fancy, and which, though incessantly employed in the personification of passion and of feeling, was ever great without effort, and at peace within itself, is visible in the exquisite harmony and symmetry of the whole head and countenance, which, not only in each separate feature, in the swell and expansion of the forehead, in the commanding sweep of the eye brow, in the undulating outline of the nose, and in the open sweetness of the lips, but in their combined and integral expression, breathe of him, of whom it may be said, in his own emphatic language, that
"We ne'er shall look upon his like again."
Very shortly after the erection of this monument, appeared the first folio edition of our author's plays, in the title-page of which, bearing the date of 1623, is found the earliest print of Shakspeare, an engraving by Martin Droeshout, with the following attestation of its verisimilitude from the pen of Ben Jonson:
"TO THE READER.
"THIS figure that thou here seest put, It was for gentle Shakspeare cut; Wherein the graver had a strife With nature, to out-do the life. O, could he but have drawn his wit, As well in brass, as he hath hit His face, the print would then surpass All that was ever writ in brass; But since he cannot, reader, look, Not on his picture, but his book."
Between the wretched engraving, thus undeservedly eulogised, and the monumental bust at Stratford, there is certainly such a resemblance as to prove, that the assertion of Jonson with regard to its likeness, was not _altogether_ without foundation; but, as Mr. Steevens has well remarked, "Shakspeare's countenance deformed by Droeshout, resembles the sign of Sir Roger de Coverley, when it had been changed into a Saracen's head; on which occasion The Spectator observes, that the features of the gentle Knight were still apparent through the lineaments of the ferocious Mussulman."[623:A]
There is, however, a much greater, nay, a very close and remarkable similitude, between the engraving, from the Felton Shakspeare, and the bust at Stratford. What basis Mr. Gilchrist may have had for his observation, that _Mr. Steevens failed in communicating to the public his confidence in the integrity of Mr. Felton's picture_, we know not[623:B]; but, if the most striking affinity to the monumental effigy, be deemed, as we think it ought to be, a proof of authenticity, this picture _is_ entitled to our confidence; for whether we consider the general contour of the head, or the particular conformation of the forehead, eyes, nose, or mouth, the resemblance is complete; the only perceptible deviation being in the construction of the eye-brows, which, instead of forming nearly a perfect arch, as in the sculpture, have an horizontal direction, and are somewhat elevated towards the temples.[624:A]
* * * * *
We have now reached the termination of a work, of which, whatever shall be its reception with the public, even Diffidence itself may say, that it has been prosecuted with incessant labour and unwearied research; with an ardent desire to give it a title to acceptance, and with an anxiety, which has proved injurious to health, that it should be deemed, not altogether unworthy of the bard whose name it bears.
It has also been a labour of love, and, though much indisposition has accompanied several of the years devoted to its construction, it is closed with a mingled sensation of gratitude, regret, and hope; of gratitude, for what of health and strength has been spared to its author; of regret, in relinquishing, what, with all its concomitant anxieties, has been often productive of rational delight; and of hope, that, in the inevitable hour which is fast approaching, no portion of its pages shall suggest a thought, which can add poignancy to suffering, or bitterness to recollection.
FOOTNOTES:
[611:A] These Cases were afterwards translated from the original Latin by James Cooke, a Surgeon at Warwick, under the title of "Select Observations on English Bodies; or Cures, both empericall and historical, performed upon very eminent persons in desperate diseases." London, 1657. 12mo.
[612:A] Malone's Supplement, vol. i. pp. 653. 657. 655.
[613:A] I recollect an engraving, from a picture by Westall, of Milton composing Paradise Lost, in which he is attended by his two daughters. Shakspeare and his favourite Susanna might furnish a pleasing subject for the same elegant artist.
[614:A] Lectures on Dramatic Literature, vol. ii. p. 138.
[615:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 67.
[615:B] "My gentle Shakspeare" is the language of Jonson, in his Poem to the memory of our bard: and see the Commendatory Poems prefixed to the old editions of our author's works, in Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ii.
[615:C] Letters by Eminent Persons, from the Bodleian Library, vol. iii. p. 307.
[616:A] Life of Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 175.
[616:B] Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, book i.
[617:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 374. Act v. sc. 1.
[617:B] Ibid. vol. ix. p. 408. Act v. sc. 2.
[618:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. pp. 412-416. Act v. sc. 3.
[618:B] Wheler's Guide to Stratford, p. 87.—"If Shakspeare's and Lord Totness's tombs," says Mr. Wheler, "were erected by one and the same artist, circumstances not at all improbable, it would not appear that he (Thomas Stanton, the sculptor) had any want of skill in preserving a resemblance; for the monumental likeness of Lord Totness strongly resembles the capital paintings of him in Clopton House, and at Gorhambury, in Hertfordshire, as well as the engraving of him prefixed to his '_Hibernia Pacata_,' a posthumous publication in 1633."—Vide p. 89.
[618:C] The arms on this monument, are,—_Or, on a bend sable, a tilting spear of the first, point upwards, headed argent_.—Crest, _A falcon displayed argent, supporting a spear in pale or_.
[619:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 90.
[620:A] "Although the practice of painting statues and busts to imitate nature, is repugnant to good taste, and must be stigmatized as vulgar and hostile to every principle of art, yet when an effigy is thus coloured and transmitted to us, as illustrative of a particular age or people, and as a record of fashion and costume, it becomes an interesting relic, and should be preserved with as much care as an Etruscan vase, or an early specimen of Raffael's painting; and the man who deliberately defaces or destroys either, will ever be regarded as a criminal in the high court of criticism and taste. From an absence of this feeling, many truly curious, and, to us, important subjects have been destroyed. Among which is to be noticed a vast monument of antiquity on Marbrough Downs, in Wiltshire; and which, though once the most stupendous work of human labour and skill in Great Britain, is now nearly demolished." Britton.
[620:B] "Wheler's Guide, p. 90."
[621:A] "Mr. Wheler, in his interesting Topographical Vade Mecum, relating to Stratford, has given publicity to the following stanzas, which were written in the Album, at Stratford church, by one of the visitors to Shakspeare's tomb."
"Stranger, to whom this Monument is shown, Invoke the Poet's curses on Malone; Whose meddling zeal his barbarous taste displays, And daubs his tomb-stone, as he marr'd his plays."
[621:B] "Britton's Remarks on the Monumental Bust of Shakspeare." These Remarks, which were published on April 23. 1816, "The Anniversary of the Birth and Death of Shakspeare, and the Second Centenary after his Decease," are accompanied by an admirably executed Mezzotinto of Shakspeare from the Monumental Bust; engraved by William Ward, from a Painting by Thomas Phillips, Esq. R. A. after a Cast made from the original Bust by George Bullock.
Mr. Britton had previously expressed a similar opinion of the merits and fidelity of this Bust, in some very ingenious and well-written "Remarks on the Life and Writings of Shakspeare," prefixed to an edition of the Poet's Plays, by Whittingham and Arliss.
[623:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 19.
[623:B] Gifford's Jonson, vol. i. p. ccclviii.
[624:A] These observations are founded upon the fidelity of the engraving prefixed to Reed's edition of Shakspeare, 1803.
APPENDIX.
SHAKSPEARE'S WILL.
(_From the Original, in the Office of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury._)
_Vicesimo quinto die Martii, Anno Regni Domini nostri Jacobi nunc Regis Angliæ, &c. decimo quarto, et Scotiæ quadragesimo nono. Anno Domini, 1616._
In the name of God, Amen. I WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE of Stratford-upon-Avon, in the county of Warwick, gent. in perfect health and memory[627:A], (God be praised!) do make and ordain this my last will and testament in manner and form following; that is to say:
_First_, I commend my soul into the hands of God my Creator, hoping, and assuredly believing, through the only merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour, to be made partaker of life everlasting; and my body to the earth whereof it is made.
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto my daughter Judith, one hundred and fifty pounds of lawful English money, to be paid unto her in manner and form following; that is to say, one hundred pounds in discharge of her marriage-portion within one year after my decease, with consideration after the rate of two shillings in the pound[627:B] for so long time as the same shall be unpaid unto her after my decease; and the fifty pounds residue thereof, upon her surrendering of, or giving of such sufficient security as the overseers of this my will shall like of, to surrender or grant, all her estate and right that shall descend or come unto her after my decease, or that she now hath, of, in, or to, one copyhold tenement, with the appurtenances, lying and being in Stratford-upon-Avon aforesaid, in the said county of Warwick, being parcel or holden of the manor of Rowington, unto my daughter Susanna Hall, and her heirs for ever.
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto my said daughter Judith one hundred and fifty pounds more, if she, or any issue of her body, be living at the end of three years next ensuing the day of the date of this my will, during which time my executors to pay her consideration from my decease according to the rate aforesaid: and if she die within the said term without issue of her body, then my will is, and I do give and bequeath one hundred pounds thereof to my niece[628:A] Elizabeth Hall, and the fifty pounds to be set forth by my executors during the life of my sister Joan Hart, and the use and profit thereof coming, shall be paid to my said sister Joan, and after her decease the said fifty pounds shall remain amongst the children of my said sister, equally to be divided amongst them; but if my said daughter Judith be living at the end of the said three years, or any issue of her body, then my will is, and so I devise and bequeath the said hundred and fifty pounds to be set out by my executors and overseers for the best benefit of her and her issue, and the stock not to be paid unto her so long as she shall be married and covert baron; but my will is, that she shall have the consideration yearly paid unto her during her life, and after her decease the said stock and consideration to be paid to her children, if she have any, and if not, to her executors or assigns, she living the said term after my decease: provided that if such husband as she shall at the end of the said three years be married unto, or at any (time) after, do sufficiently assure unto her, and the issue of her body, lands answerable to the portion by this my will given unto her, and to be adjudged so by my executors and overseers, then my will is, that the said hundred and fifty pounds shall be paid to such husband as shall make such assurance, to his own use.[628:B]
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto my said sister Joan twenty pounds, and all my wearing apparel, to be paid and delivered within one year after my decease; and I do will and devise unto her the house, with the appurtenances, in Stratford, wherein she dwelleth, for her natural life, under the yearly rent of twelve-pence.[629:A]
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto her three sons, William Hart, —— Hart[629:B], and Michael Hart, five pounds a-piece, to be paid within one year after my decease.
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto the said Elizabeth Hall all my plate (except my broad silver and gilt bowl) that I now have at the date of this my will.[629:C]
_Item_, I give and bequeath unto the poor of Stratford aforesaid ten pounds; to Mr. Thomas Combe[629:D] my sword; to Thomas Russel, esqr. five pounds; and to Francis Collins[629:E] of the borough of Warwick, gent. thirteen pounds six shillings and eight-pence, to be paid within one year after my decease.
_Item_, I give and bequeath to Hamlet (_Hamnet_) Sadler[629:F], twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a ring; to William Reynolds, gent. twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a ring; to my godson William Walker twenty shillings in gold; to Anthony Nash[630:A], gent. twenty-six shillings eight-pence; and to Mr. John Nash[630:B] twenty-six shillings eight-pence; and to my fellowes, John Hemynge[630:C], Richard Burbage[630:D], and Henry Cundell[630:E], twenty-six shillings eight-pence a-piece, to buy them rings.
_Item_, I give, will, bequeath, and devise, unto my daughter Susanna Hall[630:F], for better enabling of her to perform this my will, and towards the performance thereof, all that capital messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, in Stratford aforesaid, called the New Place, wherein I now dwell, and two messuages or tenements, with the appurtenances, situate, lying, and being in Henley-street, within the borough of Stratford aforesaid; and all my barns, stables, orchards, gardens, lands, tenements, and hereditaments whatsoever, situate, lying, and being, or to be had, received, perceived, or taken, within the towns, hamlets, villages, fields, and grounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Welcombe, or in any of them, in the said county of Warwick; and also all that messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one John Robinson dwelleth, situate, lying, and being, in the Blackfriars in London near the Wardrobe[631:A]; and all other my lands, tenements, and hereditaments whatsoever; to have and to hold all and singular the said premises, with their appurtenances, unto the said Susanna Hall, for and during the term of her natural life; and after her decease to the first son of her body lawfully issuing; and to the heirs males of the body of the said first son lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to the second son of her body lawfully issuing, and to the heirs males of the body of the said second son lawfully issuing; and for default of such heirs, to the third son of the body of the said Susanna lawfully issuing, and to the heirs males of the body of the said third son lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, the same so to be and remain to the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh sons of her body, lawfully issuing one after another, and to the heirs males of the bodies of the said fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh sons lawfully issuing, in such manner as it is before limited to be and remain to the first, second, and third sons of her body, and to their heirs males; and for default of such issue, the said premises to be and remain to my said niece Hall, and the heirs males of her body lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to my daughter Judith, and the heirs males of her body lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to the right heirs of me the said William Shakspeare for ever.
_Item_, I give unto my wife[631:B] my second best bed, with the furniture.
_Item_, I give and bequeath to my said daughter Judith my broad silver gilt bowl. All the rest of my goods, chattels, leases, plate, jewels, and houshold stuff whatsoever, after my debts and legacies paid, and my funeral expences discharged, I give, devise, and bequeath to my son-in-law, John Hall[631:C], gent. and my daughter Susanna his wife, whom I ordain and make executors of this my last will and testament. And I do entreat and appoint the said Thomas Russel, esqr. and Francis Collins, gent. to be overseers hereof. And do revoke all former wills, and publish this to be my last will and testament. In witness whereof I have hereunto put my hand, the day and year first above written.
By me, WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.
_Witness to the publishing hereof_, FRA. COLLYNS. JULIUS SHAW. JOHN ROBINSON. HAMLET SADLER. ROBERT WHATTCOTT.
_Probatum fuit testamentum suprascriptum apud London, coram Magistro William Byrde, Legum Doctore, &c. vicessimo secundo die mensis Junii, Anno Domini 1616; juramento Johannis Hall unius ex. cui, &c. de bene, &c. jurat. reservata potestate, &c. Susannæ Hall, alt. ex. &c. eam cum venerit, &c. petitur, &c._
FOOTNOTES:
[627:A] From the short period which elapsed between the date of this Will and the death of the poet, we must infer, that the "malady which at so early a period of life deprived England of its brightest ornament," was sudden in its attack, and rapid in its progress.
[627:B] _Ten per cent._, we find from this passage, was the usual interest of money in our author's days; and in the epitaph on Mr. Combe, as preserved by Aubrey, this old gentleman is censured for taking twelve per cent.:—
"But Combes will have twelve, he sweares and he vowes."
[628:A] —— _to my niece_—) "Elizabeth Hall was our poet's grand-daughter. So, in Othello, act i. sc. 1., Iago says to Brabantio: 'You'll have your _nephews_ neigh to you;' meaning his grand-children."—Malone.
[628:B] Judith died at Stratford, aged 77, and was buried there Feb. 9th, 1662.
[629:A] Joan Hart, the poet's sister, was buried at Stratford, Nov. 4th, 1646.
[629:B] "It is singular that neither Shakspeare nor any of his family should have recollected the Christian name of his nephew, who was born at Stratford but eleven years before the making of his will. His Christian name was _Thomas_; and he was baptized in that town, July 24, 1605."—Malone.
[629:C] Elizabeth Hall, the poet's grand-daughter, was married at Stratford, on April 22d, 1626, to Thomas Nash, Esq., and after the decease of this gentleman on April 4th, 1647, she again entered into the marriage-state with Sir John Barnard of Abington, in Northamptonshire. The ceremony took place at Billesley near Stratford, on the 5th of June, 1649, and Lady Barnard died, without issue by either of her husbands, at Abington, and was buried there on the 17th of February, 1669-70.
"If any of Shakspeare's manuscripts," remarks Mr. Malone, "remained in his grand-daughter's custody at the time of her second marriage, (and some _letters_ at least she surely must have had,) they probably were then removed to the house of her new husband at Abington. Sir Hugh Clopton, who was born two years after her death, mentioned to Mr. Macklin, in the year 1742, an old tradition that she had carried away with her from Stratford many of her grandfather's papers. On the death of Sir John Barnard they must have fallen into the hands of Mr. Edward Bagley, Lady Barnard's executor; and if any descendant of that gentleman be now living, in his custody they probably remain."—Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 98.
[629:D] "Mr. Thomas Combe was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 9, 1588-9, so that he was twenty-seven years old at the time of Shakspeare's death. He died at Stratford in July 1657, aged 68; and his elder brother William died at the same place, Jan. 30, 1666-7, aged 80. Mr. Thomas Combe by his will, made June 20, 1656, directed his executors to convert all his personal property into money, and to lay it out in the purchase of lands, to be settled on William Combe, the eldest son of John Combe, of All-church, in the county of Worcester, gent., and his heirs male; remainder to his two brothers successively. Where, therefore, our poet's sword has wandered, I have not been able to discover."—Malone.
[629:E] _Francis Collins_—) "This gentleman, who was the son of Mr. Walter Collins, was baptized at Stratford, Dec. 24, 1582."—Malone.
[629:F] "_Hamnet Sadler_ was godfather to Shakspeare's only son, who was called after him. Mr. Sadler, I believe, was born about the year 1550, and died at Stratford-upon-Avon, in October, 1624. His wife, Judith Sadler, who was god-mother to Shakspeare's youngest daughter, was buried there, March 23, 1613-14. Our poet probably was god-father to their son _William_, who was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 5, 1597-8."—Malone.
[630:A] "_Anthony Nash_ was father of Mr. Thomas Nash, who married our poet's grand-daughter, Elizabeth Hall. He lived, I believe, at Welcombe, where his estate lay; and was buried at Stratford, Nov. 18, 1622."—Malone.
[630:B] "Mr. John Nash died at Stratford, and was buried there, Nov. 10, 1623."—Malone.
[630:C] John Hemynge died in October, 1630.
[630:D] Burbage died in March, 1619.
[630:E] Cundell died in December, 1627. For accounts of these three celebrated performers, see Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. pp. 228. 232. 245., as drawn up by Mr. Malone.
[630:F] Susanna Hall, the poet's favourite daughter, died on the 11th of July, 1649, aged 66, and was buried in Stratford church on the 16th of the same month. On her tomb-stone were formerly the following lines preserved by Dugdale:—
"Witty above her sexe, but that's not all, Wise to salvation was good Mistriss Hall. Something of Shakspeare was in that, but this Wholy of him with whom she's now in blisse.
Then, passenger, hast ne're a teare, To weepe with her that wept with all: That wept, yet set her selfe to chere Them up with comforts cordiall.
Her love shall live, her mercy spread, When thou hast ne're a teare to shed."
[631:A] This messuage or tenement was the house which was mortgaged to Henry Walker.
[631:B] The poet's wife died on the 6th of August, 1623, and was buried between her husband's grave and the north wall of the chancel. A brass plate affixed to her tomb-stone exhibits the following inscription:—
"Ubera, tu mater, tu lac vitamq. dedisti, Væ mihi; pro tanto munere Saxa dabo! Quam mallem, amoveat lapidem, bonus Angel' ore Exeat ut Christi Corpus, imago tua Sed nil vota valent, venias cito Christe resurget, Clausa licet tumulo mater, et astra petet."
[631:C] John Hall, M.D. died Nov. 25. 1635, aged 60. His grave-stone in Stratford church is thus inscribed:—
"Hallius hic situs est medica celeberrimus arte, Expectans regni gaudia lœta Dei Dignus erat meritis qui Nestora vinceret annis, Interris omnes, sed rapit æqua dies; Ne tumulo, quid desit adest fidissima conjux, Et vitæ comitem nunc quoq. mortis habet."
INDEX.
*.* _The Roman Numerals refer to the Volumes; the Figures to the Pages of each Volume._
A
_Acheley_ (Thomas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.
_Acting_, art of, consummately known to Shakspeare, i. 423. Parts chiefly performed by him, 424, 425.
_Actors_, companies of, when first licensed, ii. 202. Placed under the superintendence of the masters of the revels, 203. Their remuneration, 204. Patronized by the court, 205, and also by private individuals, whose names they bore, 205, 206. Days and hours of their performance, 215, 216. Their remuneration, 223, 224.
_Admission_ to the theatre, in the time of Shakspeare, prices of, ii. 216, 217.
_Adonis_, beautiful address of Venus to, ii. 25, 26. See _Venus and Adonis_.
_Ægeon_, exquisite portrait of, in the Comedy of Errors, ii. 288.
_Æschylus_, striking affinity between the celebrated trilogy of, and Shakspeare's Macbeth, ii. 472, 473.
_Affection_ (maternal), exquisite delineation of, ii. 421.
_Affections_ (sympathetic), account of, i. 373, 374.
_Agate_ stone, supposed virtue of, i. 368.
_Agnus Dei_, a supposed charm against thunder, i. 364.
_Air_, spirits of, introduced into the Tempest, ii. 524.
_Akenside_'s "Pleasures of the Imagination" quoted, i. 321, 322.
_Alchemistry_, a favourite pursuit of the age of Shakspeare, ii. 154.
_Alderson_ (Dr.), opinion of, on the cause of spectral visitations, ii. 405, 406. His application of them to the character of Hamlet, 408.
_Ale_, synonymous with merry making, i. 175. Different kinds of Ales, 176. Leet-ale, 176. Clerk-ale, _ibid._ Church-ales, 177-179.
_Alehouses_, picture of, in Shakspeare's time, ii. 216-218.
_Alfs_, or bright and swart elves of the Scandinavians, account of, ii. 308, 309.
_All-Hallow-Eve_, festival of, i. 341. Fires kindled on that eve, _ibid._ Prayers offered for the souls of the departed, 342. Supposed influence of fairies, spirits, &c. 342-344. Spells practised on that eve, 344-347.
_Alliterations_, in the English language, satirised by Sir Philip Sidney, i. 444.
_All's Well that Ends Well_, probable date of, ii. 422. Analysis of its characters,—the Countess of Rousillon, 423. Helen, _ib._ 424, 425. Remarks on the minor characters, 425.
_Passages of this drama, which are illustrated in this work._