Allowing him a breath, a little scene To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks; Bores through his castle wall, and-farewell king! For you have but mistook me all this while : How can you say to me-I am a king?" There is as little sincerity afterwards in his affected resignation to his fate, as there is fortitude in this exaggerated picture of his misfortunes before they have happened. When Northumberland comes back with the message from Bolingbroke, he exclaims, anticipating the result, "What must the king do now? Must he submit? The king shall do it: must he be depos'd? The king shall be contented: must he lose The name of king? O' God's name let it go. How differently is all this expressed in King Henry's soliloquy during the battle with Edward's party : "This battle fares like to the morning's war, Have chid me from the battle, swearing both To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, When this is known, then to divide the times: So many days my ewes have been with young, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah! what a life were this! how sweet, how lovely! To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, Where care, mistrust, and treasons wait on him.” This is a true and beautiful description of a naturally quiet and contented disposition, and not, like the former, the splenetic effusion of disappointed ambition. In the last scene of Richard II. his despair lends him courage: he beats the keeper, slays two of his assassins, and dies with im 3 HENRY VIII. THIS play contains little action or violence of passion, yet it has considerable interest of a more mild and thoughtful cast, and ome of the most striking passages in the author's works. The haracter of Queen Katherine is the most perfect delineation of natronly dignity, sweetness, and resignation, that can be coneived. Her appeals to the protection of the king, her remonstrances to the cardinals, her conversations with her women, show a noble and generous spirit accompanied with the utmost gentleness of nature. What can be more affecting than her answer to Campeius and Wolsey, who come to visit her as pretended friends? -"Nay, forsooth, my friends, They that my trust must grow to, live not here; Dr. Johnson observes of this play, that "the meek sorrows and virtuous distresses of Katherine have furnished some scenes, which may be justly numbered among the greatest efforts of tragedy. But the genius of Shakspeare comes in and goes out. with Katherine. Every other part may be easily conceived and easily written." This is easily said; but with all due deference to so great a reputed authority as that of Johnson, it is not true. For instance, the scene of Buckingham led to execution is one of the most affecting and natural in Shakspeare, and one to which there is hardly an approach in any other author. Again, the character of Wolsey, the description of his pride and of his fall, are inimitable, and have, besides their gorgeousness of effect, a pathos, which only the genius of Shakspeare could lend to the distresses of a proud, bad man, like Wolsey. There is a sort of child-like simplicity in the very helplessness of his situation, arising from the recollection of his past overbearing ambition. After the cutting sarcasms of his enemies, on his disgrace, against which he bears up with a spirit conscious of his own superiority, he breaks out into that fine apostrophe "Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! More pangs and fears than war and women have; There is in this passage, as well as in the well-known dia logue with Cromwell which follows, something which stretches beyond common-place; nor is the account which Griffiths gives of Wolsey's death less Shakspearian; and the candor with which Queen Katherine listens to the praise of "him whom of all men while living she hated most" adds the last graceful finishing to her character. Among other images of great individual beauty might be mentioned the description of the effect of Ann Boleyn's presenting herself to the crowd at her coronation. "While her grace sat down To rest awhile, some half an hour or so, As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, The character of Henry VIII. is drawn with great truth and spirit. It is like a very disagreeable portrait, sketched by the hand of a master. His gross appearance, his blustering demeanor, his vulgarity, his arrogance, his sensuality, his cruelty, his hypocrisy, his want of common decency and common humanity, are marked in strong lines. His traditional peculiarities of expression complete the reality of the picture. The authoritative expletive, "Ha!" with which he intimates his indignation or surprise, has an effect like the first startling sound that breaks from a thunder-cloud. He is of all the monarchs in our history the most disgusting: for he unites in himself all the vices of barbarism and refinement, without their virtues. Other kings before him (such as Richard III.) were tyrants and murderers out of ambition or necessity: they gained or established unjust power by violent means: they destroyed their enemies, or those who barred their access to the throne or made its tenure insecure. But Henry VIII.'s power is most fatal to those whom he loves: he is cruel and remorseless to pamper his luxurious appetites; bloody and voluptuous; an amorous murderer; an uxorious debauchee. His hardened insensibility to the feelings of others is strengthened by the most profligate self-indulgence. The religious hypocrisy, under which he masks his cruelty and his lust, is admirably displayed in the speech in which he describes the first misgivings of his conscience and its increasing throes and terrors, which have induced him to divorce his queen. The only thing in his favor in this play is his treatment of Cranmer: there is also another circumstance in his favor, which is his patronage of Hans Holbein. It has been said of Shakspeare-" No maid could live |