of Anjou. I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. Herman Merivale for the loan of his copy of this play, which contains numerous MS. alterations and additions in the handwriting of his grandfather; the title-page is dated 1817, and the preface refers to various features in the representation of the play and to the criticisms thereon. Mr. Herman Merivale informs me, in a letter, that the play was first represented in 1816, so that the date 1818 given in the Life of Kean above referred to, must, if correct, refer to a revival of the play, not to its first production. The only other occasion on which any version of Henry VI. has been represented, as far as I can discover, was at the Surrey Theatre in 1863, when, under the management of Mr. Anderson, a version of I. Henry VI. was presented, called The Wars of the Roses, and was played some thirty or forty nights. Mr. Anderson himself doubled the part of the Duke of York and Jack Cade. In the letter, in which he kindly gives me this information, he adds that "unfortunately the MS. with all books and papers were destroyed when the theatre was burnt down in the year 1864."

Whether any manager will think it worth his while to revive any one of the above-mentioned versions of these plays, or to give a representation of any one of the Three Parts of Henry VI. as Shakespeare revised them, is very doubtful. The number of characters introduced, the violent changes of scene, the confused mass of incidents, and the necessary division of interest among the characters, all tend to make the effective representation of these plays on the stage very difficult.

CRITICAL REMARKS.

In speaking of these two plays it is evident, from what has been said above as to their authorship, that one cannot treat them, any more than I. Henry VI., as being Shakespeare's own work. I cannot pretend to follow those who venture to portion out the lines of these plays between their different authors. For the purposes of criticism it is quite sufficient to accept the additional passages in F. 1 as being virtually the work of Shakespeare, whether Marlowe assisted him or not in the re

vision. For what he chose to leave of the old plays in the revised editions of them he is responsible, as far as his taste as a poet and his judgment as a dramatist are concerned. Most critics do not hesitate to prefer these two plays, II. Henry VI. and III. Henry VI., to I. Henry VI.; and there is no doubt that they contain many more passages of merit both from a poetical and dramatic point of view; but the nature of their subject prevents them being as sympathetic as I. Henry VI. Indeed, had the same amount of talent and of pains been bestowed upon the latter, it would have more than held its own with the Parts founded upon The Contention and The True Tragedy. But we may take it that not only was the original play, from which Shakespeare worked in the case of I. Henry VI., of inferior merit to those from which he adapted the two other Parts, but also that he bestowed less care upon the First Part than on the Second and Third; and, probably, that he had not, at the time he prepared the former for the stage, made much progress in his art. Otherwise, the play, which tells the story of Talbot's glorious victories and heroic death, of Joan of Arc's noble enthusiasm for her country, and of her cruel end, would have taken a much firmer hold upon our sympathies than these two somewhat monotonous records of grasping ambition, mean treachery, and bloodthirsty cruelty. For, after all, when we come, fresh from a careful reading of them, to look back upon these two plays, with what characters, crowded as they are with many and various individualities, can we sympathize? Scarcely with the ambitious and disingenuous York; or with Warwick, brave though he be, yet never setting his heart upon anything else but his own selfish ends, changing his allegiance with as little scruple as he changes his armour, whenever it suits his purpose; hardly with the uncles, wrangling over their royal nephew; or with Edward IV., young, brave, and handsome as he is, but sensual, and only less cruel because more indolent than his scheming, vulpine brother Richard. We can care little for Clarence, who has just enough audacity to be a traitor, without the courage to be loyal; nor do our hearts go out even to Margaret, loyal

and nobly tenacious of purpose though she be; for the fiendish cruelty with which she triumphs over her enemy, York, almost justifies the abuse which is heaped upon her. Henry alone stands out, among the crowd of grasping, intriguing, and cruel men-slayers which surround him, gentle, merciful, thinking of others rather than of himself, shrinking with horror from severity even to those who had deserved it; with a heart that bleeds for his country's misfortunes, that is not only wrung with grief at the death of some friend of noble birth, but overflows with pity at the sorrows of the poorest of his unhappy subjects. Yet Henry lacks those qualities which rarely, if ever, coexist with such a character; he has neither resolution nor vigour to cope with the crowd of unscrupulous foes around him. Timid by nature, and morbidly averse to everything that wears the slightest appearance of cruelty, he yields when he should resist, entreats when he should command, and laments the crimes that he ought to punish. Among the minor characters, Humphrey of Gloucester stands out, perhaps, as the most prominent; we are intended to admire him, but the finger-post which points to his supposed good qualities is rather too obtrusive; and we feel that, in all the eloquent speeches he makes on behalf of his king, he says one word for his sovereign and three for himself. Nor can we quite get over his conduct to his duchess; having raised her from something worse than an insignificant position to that of his wife, we feel that he might be a little more indulgent to her ambition, which is not altogether selfish; and that, in the hour of her humiliation, he might sympathize with her more and preach to her less. Indeed, his conduct, after her performance of her painful and degrading penance, almost prepares us for his own fate as an act of poetic justice. Figures that, for the moment, attract our sympathy and touch our hearts, like those of the young Rutland, or of Edward Prince of Wales, or of Lady Grey, flit across the crowded scene, and are gone almost before we have time to admire them. It was inevitable, perhaps, from the nature of the subject, that the interest should be dissipated among so many characters, that neither play seems to have any

hero at all. Margaret might be made the heroine; but the attempts, clever as they are, that have been made to invest one of the male characters with paramount interest, have almost inevitably failed.

It may seem a strange thing to say, but there is nothing more pathetic in these two plays except, perhaps, the beautiful episode of the father and son, III. Henry VI. ii. 5.— than the absence of one character, whom we should certainly have expected to have seen taking a prominent part in the stirring incidents of those times. I mean Katharine, the young and happy bride of Henry V., so soon left a widow, with nothing but her infant child to comfort her. One remembers the bright scene of her courtship by Henry (Henry V. act v. scene 2); one reads of the enthusiasm and delight with which she was welcomed by the people of England as the beautiful young bride of their genuinely beloved king; one pictures the exultant pride with which, directly she was well enough to travel, she hastened to France to show her husband their infant child, and the joyous days of festivity passed there: then comes the sudden death of King Henry in the pride of life, and the fair promise of happiness is blighted for ever. For the first two years Katharine seems to have held her proper place as mother of the young king; but when the child was only three years old the mother was deposed, and Dame Alice Boteller was appointed as governess of the infant monarch. The history of the young queen-dowager's disgrace is shrouded in mystery; probably her attachment to Owen Tudor, whom she subsequently married, was thus early discovered. But from an historical as well as from a dramatic point of view her complete effacement is to be much regretted. The whole face of English history might have been changed, if Katharine could have taken and held the position which, of right, belonged to her. She had the enormous advantage of her dead husband's name to conjure by, and what an advantage it was we learn from the speech of Clifford to Jack Cade's followers. Only give to this queen-mother half the energy and decision of character which Margaret had, and

what might she not have achieved for her son's cause? Margaret did much; but it must be remembered that she always laboured under the great and insuperable disadvantage of being connected, in the public mind, with the disgraceful cession of English territory to France. Katharine had come as a foreigner indeed, but also as a beautiful messenger of peace to England, and a guarantee of her husband's succession to the fair land of France. If, indeed, her mésalliance was the sole reason for her being entirely excluded from taking any part in the care and education of her own child, what more striking anomaly can there be, than this relentless enforcement of the decrees of conventional etiquette, in a society which held human life in less respect than was ever the case in any civilized community; in an age when ferocious cruelty was the rule rather than the exception? But Katharine had her revenge: if, unwilling to mix herself with the intrigues of her proud and unscrupulous brothers-in-law, she sought refuge from the turmoil of the life around her in a simple marriage of affection, she became the direct ancestress of one of the most powerful race of monarchs that ever sat on the English throne.

But to return to our main subject: the merit, literary and dramatic, of these plays is no doubt considerable; and, allowing for the inherent difficulty of dealing with events so varied and characters so numerous, it must be confessed that the authors have exhibited

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As

great variety and power. As acted dramas, the Second and Third Parts of Henry VI. could never very much impress a modern audience. But, if we can only get over the horrid atmosphere of bloodshed which pervades these plays, they are capable of affording great pleasure to the reader. There is much study of character in them; and there are detached scenes which are very dramatic. for the humorous portion, that which treats of Jack Cade's rebellion, many of the critics seem inclined to think that the existence of these scenes in the older plays points to Shakespeare having had a hand in their composition. For my part, except in that very characteristic contempt for the morality of King Mob, which Shakespeare never loses the opportunity of accentuating, I confess that I cannot see anything in the Jack Cade scenes that might not have been written by almost any one of Shakespeare's contemporaries. Let any reader take up either of the Parts of Henry IV., or Henry V., and he will see how distinctly superior Shakespeare's humour is when it is his own; or, if it be fairer to compare the humour, such as it is, of these plays with one of Shakespeare's undoubtedly early works, the Comedy of Errors, or Two Gentlemen of Verona, will suffice. If Shakespeare's claim to have been part author of The Contention and The True Tragedy rests chiefly on the humours of Jack Cade and his company of rebels, we may feel ourselves at perfect liberty to believe that he had no share in them whatever.

SCENE I. London. A room of state in the

Palace.

Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter on one side KING HENRY, HUMPHREY DUKE OF GLOSTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL BEAUFORT; on the other, QUEEN MARGARET, led in by SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, and others following.

Suf. As from your high imperial majesty I had in charge at my depart for France, As procurator1 to your excellence, To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, [So, in the famous ancient city Tours, In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne, Alençon,

Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend bishops, ]

I have perform'd my task, and was espous'd:
And humbly now upon my bended knee,
In sight of England and her lordly peers,

1 Procurator, substitute, proxy.

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To your most gracious hands, that are the substance

Of that great shadow I did represent;
The happiest gift that ever marquess gave,
The fairest queen that ever king receiv'd.

King. Suffolk, arise.-Welcome, Queen Margaret:

I can express no kinder sign of love

Than this kind kiss.-O Lord, that lends me life,

Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! 20 For thou hast given me, in this beauteous face,

A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
Queen. Great King of England and my gra-
cious lord,

The mutual conference that my mind hath had,

By day, by night, waking and in my dreams,
In courtly company or at my beads,
With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign,

2 Alder-liefest, dearest of all (Anglo-Saxon).

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Here are the articles of contracted peace Between our sovereign and the French king Charles,

For eighteen months concluded by consent.

Glo. [reads] "Imprimis, It is agreed between the French king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia, and Jerusalem, [and crown her Queen of England ere the thirtieth of May next ensuSing.] Item, that the duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released and delivered to the king her father"—— [Lets the paper fall.

King. Uncle, how now! Glo. Pardon me, gracious lord; Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart

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NO

Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
What! did my brother Henry spend his youth,
His valour, coin, and people, in the wars?
[Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer France, his true inheritance?]
And did my brother Bedford toil his wits,
To keep by policy what Henry got?
Have you yourselves, [Somerset, Bucking-
ham,

Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,]

Receiv'd deep scars in France and Normandy? [Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, With all the learned council of the realm, Studied so long, sat in the council-house Early and late, debating to and fro2 How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe?

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