CHAPTER X.

THE KNOWN TRAITS OF SHAKESPEARE COMPARED WITH THOSE OF THE PRINCE.

HOUGH the Prince's character

THO

may be seen in almost every scene of the play, its real dignity and inner beauty come out more strongly in the interviews between himself and his father than in any other. Here he shows himself in his true colors as an honest, loving son, a faithful subject, and a patriotic prince. "Frank, liberal, prudent, gentle, yet brave as Hotspur himself," says Mr. Knight, "the Prince shows that even in his wildest excesses he has drunk deeply of the fountains of truth and wisdom. The wisdom of the king is that of a cold and subtle politician;-Hotspur seems to stand out from his followers as the haughty feudal lord, too proud to have

listened to any teacher but his own will; -but the Prince, in casting away the dignity of his station to commune freely with his fellow-men, has attained that strength which is above all conventional power; his virtues as well as his frailties belong to our common humanity; the virtues capable, therefore, of the highest elevation, and the frailties not pampered into crimes by the artificial incentives of social position."

Although he is a soldier, and brave as brave can be, he is represented as loving peace and hating bloodshed: "I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North," he says; "he that kills me some six or seven dozen Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.'" Oh no; he prefers intellectual combats to physical ones, the play of spiritual weapons to material ones; he prefers wine, wit, and wisdom to the clash of arms and the roar of cannon; genial, social intercourse, with witty sallies and lively repartees, to the mustering of troops and

the din of battle. Is not this the Shakespeare described by his contemporaries? Is not this the Shakespeare that we know from all accounts? Even when he becomes king, and is urged by the lords spiritual to make war on France, see with what anxiety he counts the cost, with what solicitude he looks to the miseries it will entail :

We charge you, in the name of God, take heed;
For never two such kingdoms did contend
Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
Are every one a woe, a sore complaint,

'Gainst him whose wrongs give edge unto the swords That make such waste in brief mortality.

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Brief mortality," indeed! he felt that life was all too short without having it curtailed by violence. His hatred of bloodshed was exhibited, indeed, long before he became king. To prevent the fratricidal slaughter of his countrymen in battle, he thus offers to fight in single combat the most renowned warrior of his day:

Prince. In both our armies there is many a soul Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,

If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew
The prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,
This present enterprise set off his head,
I do not think a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,
More daring, or more bold, is now alive
To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant been to chivalry,

And so I hear he doth account me too;
Yet this before my father's majesty:

I am content, that he shall take the odds
Of his great name and estimation,

And will, to save the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him in a single fight.

And when Hotspur, hearing of the challenge, asks,

How showed his tasking? seemed it in contempt?

Sir Richard Vernon replies thus beautifully:

No, by my soul: I never in my life

Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,

Unless a brother should a brother dare

To gentle exercise and proof of arms.

He gave you all the duties of a man,

Trimmed up your praises with a princely tongue,
Spoke your deservings like a chronicle,

Making you ever better than his praise,
By still dispraising praise, valued with you;
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself;

And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
As if he mastered there a double spirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, instantly.
There did he pause but let me tell the world,
If he outlive the envy of this day,

England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

prover

The modesty of Shakespeare is bial; he never speaks of himself directly; he never advances any views that we know to be his own individually; all these things are foreign to his nature. But here, in disguise, he freely and truly paints himself, justly imagining the Prince to be such a man as he was, and justly and without any other desire than painting a true character, following the highest instincts of his nature. Consider, therefore, how near these lines touch him:

He made a blushing cital of himself;

And chid his truant youth with such a grace,

As if he mastered there a double spirit,

Of teaching, and of learning, instantly.