Collier, etc.), that Shakespeare had no hand whatever in the two parts of "The Troublesome Raigne," which two parts, by the way, have themselves a contrast of manner that give reason to think that more than one author was employed in their preparation. Still, it is within the bounds of possibility that these may have been among Shakespeare's earlier essays in historic tragedy, and it is just to add, that if such were the case it would not be at all discreditable to his genius, though the contemptuous remarks of some of the editors would give their readers a different impression. It does not furnish choice extracts such as those by which the taste of Charles Lamb has made some second rate Elizabethan dramatists familiar to modern readers, but as a whole it compares advantageously enough with the dramas of its time; less extravagant in diction and imagery than many of them, it puts the historical personages and their actions as related by the more popular English chroniclers on the scene with spirit and distinctness; whilst the Bastard, whether drawn from tradition or from the author's invention, is strongly marked as a courageous, active, ambitious soldier, and though a little "robustious," noisy, and ranting, yet not more so than the other dramatic military heroes of his time, who were generally expected to "split the ears of the groundlings." This piece Shakespeare set himself to work upon, scene by scene, and almost sentence by sentence. The preservation of the old piece enables us to follow him throughout every step of the process, and the comparison is alike curious and instructive. The “Troublesome Raigne" is (as has already been said) an acted chronicle, directed and governed in its arrangement of scenes by the chronological order of events. It is transmuted, without any striking change of structure, into an historical tragedy. We can see the poetic alchemist at work, with his small quarto pamphlet play before him, using it, as he did afterwards his folio of North's "Plutarch," or Hall and Hollingshed's "Chronicles," as his main stock of materials. He looks around, then takes Hollingshed from the shelf, but it is merely to suggest some thought that may be incorporated in the other narrative, not to correct the history or to furnish new scenes and characters. Those scenes or characters are too familiar to be disturbed; he alters only to elevate them into a higher region of poetry and feeling. The two parts of the chronicle dramatic story are compressed into one dramatic action, retaining all the incidents and circumstances, but often compressing the dialogue in some of the scenes, throwing others, like that of the preaching of the Prophet of Pomfret, or the Bastard's plunder of the Abbeys, into brief narrative, and again giving bolder prominence to the points on which the tragic interest of the remodelled tragedy was designed to rest. For this last purpose, the Poet has elevated the character of Constance from the fond and wronged mother, somewhat quick-tempered and sharp-tongued, of the old play, to a majesty of maternal grief rivalling the high conceptions of Grecian poetry and art. The reverence due to a mother's sorrows is heightened and saddened by the lofty bearing and noble eloquence of one fitted to be the mother of a royal race. Every thing that can touch the natural sympathies in the youth, the innocence, the winning affection of Arthur, is beautifully and touchingly elaborated,-not a little at the expense of historical accuracy as to the Prince, who was no longer a child when his uncle's prisoner, and also beyond the representation or conception of the older dramatist. Thus his fate, his mother's sorrows, his uncle's guilt, and the retributive justice that closes the drama become the central points of interest, and give to the narrative the depth and continuous unity of interest that mere dramatic history could not attain. Subservient to the general effect, and powerfully contributing to it, yet in itself a master-piece of tragic art, is the whole of the dialogue in which we see John

-"sound the depths of Hubert's soul,

Whilst in his own contending passions roll."-CHURCHILL (Rosciad).

These scenes owe nothing to the older play, being entirely original, except so far as they may have been suggested by some very slight or transient expressions in Hollingshed's narrative. They are worthy of being placed by the side of corresponding scenes in RICHARD, in OTHELLO, and in MACBETH, all exhibiting varied forms of temptation to the worst crimes, differently modified by the fears, the remorse, the craft, the hardened conscience or the determined will of the several tempters. It is evidently for the purpose of giving a predominating interest to the wrongs of Arthur, that Shakespeare in his re-working of the older drama, from the very beginning impresses upon the audience the notice of Arthur's legitimate right to his grandfather's throne, and of the usurpation of John, an opinion which Mr. Hallam (“ Middle Ages") says has become general through Shakespeare's representation of the matter; for in John's own times, the accession of one of the legitimate race, elder in years, by election over an heir nearer in blood, was so far from a usurpation that it was familiar to the policy of the old feudal tenures. For the same object, the revolt of Salisbury, Pembroke, and their companions, was made in the remodelled tragedy to spring directly and wholly from the supposed murder of Arthur. This varies both from historical authority, and from the older play, which merely assigns

"His cousin's death, that sweet unguilty child,"

as a closing accusation against "that tyrant John," whilst Essex and his friends allege as the main cause of their conspiracy

"The servile yoke, that pained us with toil,
On strong instinct hath formed this conventicle,
To ease our necks of servitude's contempt."

Whilst the dramatic chronicle was thus condensed into a dark tragedy of the sorrows of Constance, the harrowing wrongs of her engaging child, and the guilt of John, a false and selfish tyrant, whose sins are unredeemed by any of the nobler qualities of talent and courage or wit that gild the crimes of Iago and Richard—the author also saw that this sad tale would receive deeper truth, and a more living reality, from frequent contrast and gay relief. This contrast he supplies from the constant flashes of high spirits and gay courage, which his own genius strikes out so abundantly from the original hard and rough character of Cœur-de-lion's son. He is made the comic relief to the purely tragic portion of the action, and yet, being himself the secondary hero upon whom the

audience's sympathy is to repose, he is in himself a tragi-comedy of the higher order, a compound of Hotspur and Mercutio, a character of which we sometimes meet the resemblance amongst young soldiers and sailors, and, if it had been drawn at a later period, I should say more Irish than English. But Shakespeare drew him from his own countrymen, and he belongs to a class rather than a nation. If the Poet had any other model in his eye than living nature, it was the historical and legendary character of Richard himself, whose son hath "the very spirit of Plantagenet."

Thus Shakespeare's KING JOHN, in one sense the least original of its author's works,-for there is not a single incident or character, scarcely a whole scene, not substantially to be found in the older play,-is in another and higher respect, that of feeling, poetry, dramatic skill, and ethical truth, one of his most original productions.

It resembles one of those extensive but commonplace landscapes, such as may be travelled over a hundred times without fixing its features upon the memory, but which at once acquires a unity and depth of expression and sentiment, combining or recalling swarms of joyous or solemn associations, when presented to the mind in a single point of view, under the lights of Ruysdael, or the colouring of Cole.

Mr. Collier has well summed up some of the principal points of difference between the old and the re-written drama.

"How long the old 'King John' had been in possession of the stage prior to 1591, when it was originally printed, we have no precise information, but Shakespeare found it there, and took the course usual with dramatists of the time, by applying to his own purposes as much of it as he thought would be advantageous. He converted the two parts' into one drama, and in many of its main features followed the story, not as he knew it in history, but as it was fixed in popular belief. In some particulars he much improved upon the conduct of the incidents: for instance, in the first act of the old King John,' Lady Faulconbridge is, needlessly and objectionably, made a spectator of the scene in which the bastardy of her son Philip is discussed before King John and his mother. Another amendment of the original is the absence of Constance from the stage when the marriage between Lewis and Blanch is debated. A third material variation ought not to be passed over without remark. Although Shakespeare, like the authors of the old King John,' employs the Bastard forcibly to raise money from the monasteries in England, he avoids the scenes of extortion and ribaldry of the elder play, in which the monks and nuns are turned into ridicule, and the indecency and licentiousness of their lives exposed. Supposing the old King John' to have been brought upon the stage not long after the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588, when the hatred of Roman Catholics was at its height, such an exhibition must have been extremely gratifying to the taste of vulgar audiences. Shakespeare might justly hold in contempt such a mode of securing applause; or, possibly, his own religious tenets might induce him to touch lightly upon such matters. Certain it is, that the elder drama contains much coarse abuse of the Roman Catholics, and violent invective against the ambition of the pontiff, little of which is found in Shakespeare. It is, however, easy to discover reasons why he would refuse to pander to popular prejudice, without supposing him to feel direct sympathy with the enemies of the Reformation."

The text as printed in the first folio presents few difficulties, and where typographical inaccuracies occur, as the style does not abound in those bold and original combinations, or deflexions of words from their ordinary sense, elsewhere familiar to the Poet,—the proper corrections are easily and satisfactorily ascertained. With but one exception-the "brooded watchful day," (see note, act iii., scene 3.),-there is, I think, no reading susceptible of much doubt.

SCENES AND COSTUMES.

The architectural scenes, costumes, etc. in this play, are chiefly from sketches from remains of the times, or from old drawings or prints, by Mr. Poynter, the excellent antiquarian draftsman of the pictorial edition.

Mr. Planché, in the pictorial edition, collects his authorities for the costume of this play chiefly from the monumental effigies and seals of the principal sovereigns and nobles mentioned.

"The effigy of King John in Worcester cathedral, which, by the examination of the body, was proved to present a fac simile of the royal robes in which he was interred, affords a fine specimen of the royal costume of the period. A full robe or supertunic of crimson damask, embroidered with gold, and descending to the mid leg, is girdled round the waist with a golden belt studded with jewels, having a long end pendant in front. An under tunic of cloth of gold descends to the ankles, and a mantle of the same stuff, lined with green silk, depends from his shoulders; the hose are red, the shoes black, over which are fastened gilt spurs by straps of silk, or cloth, of a light blue colour, striped with green and yellow or gold. The collar and sleeves of the supertunic have borders of gold studded with jewels. The backs of the gloves were also jewelled.

"A kneeling effigy of Philip Augustus, engraved in Montfaucon, shows the similarity of fashion in France and England. The nobles, when unarmed, were attired in the same manner, viz., in the tunic, supertunic, and mantle, with hose, short boots, or shoes, of materials more or less rich. Cloth, silk, velvet, and gold, and silver tissues. with occasionally furs of considerable value, are mentioned in documents of the period. A garment called a bliaus (from whence probably the modern French blouse,) appears to have been a sort of supertunic or surcoat in vogue, and in winter it was lined with fur. The common Norman mantle used for travelling, or out of door exercise, had a capuchon to it, and was called the capa.

"The capuchon, or hood, with which this garment was furnished, appears to have been the usual covering for the head; but hats and caps, the latter sometimes of the Phrygian form, and sometimes flat and round like the Scotch bonnet, are occasionally met with during the twelfth century. The beaux, during John's reign, curled and crisped their hair with irons, and bound only a slight fillet round the head, seldom wearing caps, in order that their locks might be seen. The beard was closely shaven, but John and the nobles of his party are said to have worn beard and mustache ont of contempt for the discontented Barons. The fashion of gartering up the long hose, or Norman chausses, sandal-wise, prevailed amongst all classes; and when, on the legs of persons of rank, these bandages are seen of gold stuff, the effect is very gorgeous and picturesque.

"The dress of the ladies may be understood from an examination of the effigies of Eleanor, Queen of Henry II., and of Isabella, Queen of King John, and the figure of Blanch of Castile on her great seal. Although these personages are represented in royal costume, the general dress differed nothing in form, however it might in material.

It consisted of one long full robe or gown, girdled round the waist, and high in the neck, with long tight sleeves to the wrist; the collar sometimes fastened with a brooch; the head bound by a band or fillet of jewels, and covered with the wimple or veil. To the girdle was appended, occasionally, a small pouch or aulmoniere. The capa was used in travelling, and in winter pelisses (Pelices, pelisons) richly furred [whence the name] were worn under it. "King John orders a grey pelisson with nine bars of fur to be made for the Queen. Short boots, as well as shoes, were worn by the ladies. The King orders four pair of women's boots, one of them to be fretatus de giris (embroidered with circles), but the robe, or gown, was worn so long that little more than the tips of the toes are seen in illuminations or effigies of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and the colour is generally black, though there can be no doubt they were occasionally of cloth of gold or silver richly embroidered.

"Gloves do not appear to have been generally worn by females; but, as marks of nobility, when they were worn they were jewelled on the back.

"The mantle and robe or tunic, of the effigy of Queen Eleanor, are embroidered all over with golden crescents. This may have been some family badge, as the crescent and star are seen on the great seal of Richard I.; and that monarch is said to bave possessed a mantle nearly covered with half moons and orbs of shining silver.

"The armour of the time consisted of a hauberk and chausses made of leather, covered with iron rings set up edgewise in regular rows, and firmly stitched upon it, or with small overlapping scales of metal like the Lorica squamata of the Romans.

"The hauberk had a capuchon attached to it, which could be pulled over the head or thrown back at pleasure. Under this was sometimes worn a close iron skull-cap, and at others the head itself was surmounted by a chapel de fer,' or a large cylindrical helmet, flattened at top, the face being defended by a perforated plate or grating, called the aventaile,' (avant taille,) fastened by screws or hinges to the helmet. A variety of specimens of this early vizored head-piece may be seen on the seals of the Counts of Flanders, in Olivarius Vredius" History;' and the seal of Prince Louis of France exhibits a large and most clumsy helmet of this description. The seal of King John presents us with a figure of the monarch, wearing over his armour the military surtout, as yet undistinguished by armorial blazonry. On his head is either a cylindrical helmet, without the aventaile, or a cap of cloth or fur. It is difficult, from the state of the impressions, to decide which. He bears the knightly shield, assuming at this period the triangular or heater shape, but exceedingly curved or embowed, and emblazoned with the three lions, or leopards, passant regardant, in pale, which are first seen on the shield of Richard I.

"The spur worn at this period was the goad or pryck spur, without a rowel. The principal weapons of the knights were the lance, the sword, and the battle-axe. The shape of the sword may be best ascertained from the effigy of King John, who holds one in his hand; the pommel is diamond shaped, and has an oval cavity in the centre for a jewel.

"The common soldiery fought with bills, long and cross-bows, slings, clubs, and a variety of rude but terrific weapons, such as scythes fastened to poles, (the falcastrum,) and a sort of spear, with a hook on one side, called the guisarme. The arbalast, or cross-bow, is said to have been invented in the previous reign, but Wace mentions it as having been known to the Normans before the Conquest. Engines of war, called the mangonell and the petraria, for throwing heavy stones, are mentioned by Guliel. Britto, in his 'Phillippeis,' (lib. 7:)-.

Interea grossos petraria mittit ab intus

Assidue lapides mangonellusque minores.

"In the close rolls of John is an order to the Bailiff of Porchester, to cause machines for flinging stones, called petrarie and mangonelli, to be made for the king's service, and to let Drogo de Dieppe and his companions have iron and other things necessary for making of them. Philip sent to his son Louis a military engine, called the malvoisine, (bad neighbour,) to batter the walls of Dover Castle."