CHAPTER IV

SHAKESPEARE'S MEN OF ACTION: THE BASTARD, ARTHUR, AND KING RICHARD II.


It is time now, I think, to test my theory by considering the converse
of it. In any case, the attempt to see the other side, is pretty sure to
make for enlightenment, and may thus justify itself. In the mirror which
Shakespeare held up to human nature, we not only see Romeo, and Jaques,
Hamlet, Macbeth and Posthumus; but also the leonine, frank face of the
Bastard, the fiery, lean, impatient mask of Hotspur, and the cynical,
bold eyes of Richard III. Even if it were admitted that Shakespeare
preferred the type of the poet-philosopher, he was certainly able, one
would say, to depict the man of action with extraordinary vigour and
success. He himself then must have possessed a certain strength of
character, certain qualities of decision and courage; he must have had,
at least, "a good stroke in him," as Carlyle phrased it. This is the
universal belief, a belief sanctioned by Coleridge and Goethe, and
founded apparently on plain facts, and yet, I think, it is mistaken,
demonstrably untrue. It might even be put more plausibly than any of its
defenders has put it. One might point out that Shakespeare's men of
action are nearly all to be found in the historical plays which he wrote
in early manhood, while the portrait of the philosopher-poet is the
favourite study of his riper years. It would then be possible to suggest
that Shakespeare grew from a bold roistering youth into a melancholy,
thoughtful old age, touching both extremes of manhood in his own