FALSTAFF AND HIS FOREBEARS

BY JAMES MONAGHAN

I

In the following pages Shakespeare is revealed in the act (caught in the act!) of composing the plays of Henry IV and Henry V— probably, near the scene of his earliest triumphs, in the house of the recently arrived French emigrant and wig-maker, Christopher Mountjoy, at the northeast corner of Monkwell (Mugle) and Silver Streets, not far from Cripplegate, London. In this neighborhood also dwelt Shakespeare's friends Ben Jonson, Thomas Dekker, John Heming and Henry Condell, the latter two, fellow actors, remembered in his will and first editors of his plays, and, lastly, Richard Tarlton, who plays a prominent part in this paper. Outside the walls, beyond Cripplegate, were the Curtain and Theatre, the earliest play-houses of London, where Shakespeare began his career on the stage, first in some humble capacity, it may be as prompter's assistant or call boy, later no doubt taking part in interludes and extemporized plays, afterwards as play-cobbler, in collaboration with others, and finally as full-fledged author and dramatist, in which latter capacity he appears in these pages.

The primary purpose of the writer is to solve the problem, which has puzzled many generations of students, whether the unrivalled and amazing Falstaff was the pure invention of the poet's brain or whether he was drawn from a model.

Shakespeare's text has been examined so minutely, all its sources have been investigated with such painstaking-often painful— care, and the assertion that no model of Falstaff exists has been made so repeatedly by scholars that it will probably surprise the reader to be told that the very drama, which contains the prototype for the poet's immortal jester, can be pointed out. It will be shown, in addition, that Shakespeare developed the personality as outlined in this rather remarkable old chronicle play-remarkable certainly for the inspiration it gave the master poet of the worldand that he kept his finger on the lines, copying many incidents and numerous phrases. So much can be stated with absolute confi

dence. It is also believed there can be established a more than plausible theory of the way the poet's attention was drawn to the character and why his imagination was kindled.

It is well known that Shakespeare's plays of Henry IV and Henry V were founded largely on the old chronicle drama of the Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth, containing the Honorable Battle of Agincourt. The historical part of the old drama furnishes the crude outlines of Henry V. It closes with the surrender of the French army and the courtship and betrothal of Henry and Katherine. Our interest lies chiefly with Henry IV where indebtedness to the old play is much greater. In the chronicle drama the exploits of Prince Hal and his roystering companions and the comedy situations, discussed later, are set out with many detailsnot followed closely by Shakespeare, one merely suggesting the other. In both there is the robbery at Gadshill, in the neighborhood of London; the adjournment to the tavern of Eastcheap to spend the spoils; and the sudden interruption of the revels by the sheriff and his officers. In the old drama there is a trial before the Chief Justice when the Prince gives him the historic box on the ear, which has sounded through the centuries, only mentioned by Falstaff. In both plays there is an impressment of soldiers, numerous comedy situations in the camps, and finally, when Prince Hal has succeeded to the crown, his riotous companions are rather ungraciously banished, "on pain of death," not to come near him "by ten mile," but with vague promise of advancement, "if he hears well of them." From these slender threads the great dramatist has woven his matchless fabric of comedy.

Scholars all agree that hints of the comic action of Shakespeare's characters are to be found in the old play, but as careful a student as Halliwell-Phillipps says the real prototype of Falstaff "certainly does not belong to the Famous Victories." Many later critics have reiterated his false pronouncement. Such a misstatement can be explained only by the fact that Sir John Oldcastle of the earlier play occupies the same relation to the Prince that Falstaff does in Henry IV, and therefore would naturally be considered the prototype, while the clown, the real original of Falstaff, escaped notice because he is not a companion of the Prince and plays his part with a different setting. In truth, Falstaff is a composite of the two-et aliorum. In the old drama several speeches by Sir

John Oldcastle-showing the acknowledged coward and bombastic comedian-were probably enough to suggest to the poet the creation of a comic companion for the prince. But Derrick, the clown of the old play, is undoubtedly the original of Falstaff, as will appear by a comparison of the two plays, where it will be seen the two jesters are cast in the same mould.

When Shakespeare, in his study, opened the volume to read the old play, his eye was met by Prince Henry's call: "Come away, my lads." In Henry IV, as the Prince and Falstaff enter, the latter exclaims: "Hal, what time of day is it, lad?" Is it too fanciful to suggest that this last word may have acted as a tuningfork for the poet's sensitive ear to give the pitch to the scenes that follow? At least, the verbal echoes, scattered through these plays, show how closely he scanned the text. Let us consider some of them. Derrick said to one of his companions in arms in France: "Be hanged in thy own language." Prince Hal says: "I can drink with any tinker in his own language." Again Derrick said: "I have brought two shirts with me." Falstaff: "I take but two shirts out with me," although, as he reports, there was not a shirt and a half in all his ragged company. Falstaff says: "I forgive thee. Thou seest I am pacified." Derrick: "I am quickly pacified. . . . 'Tis a wonderful thing to see how glad the knave is now I have forgiven him." Falstaff twice uses the italicized phrase in the same exaggerated sense. Derrick, in recounting his military exploits, said: "I was called the bloody soldier amongst them all." Falstaff, Davy's "man of war," says: "I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy." John Cobbler's rhyme, recited to Derrick,

...

"With nut brown ale

That is full stale,"

finds a parallel in Silence's song to Falstaff:

"A cup of wine

That's brisk and fine."

Probably the most striking illustration of the verbal echoes of the two characters is the oath which is so often in the mouths of both men. In the old play, Prince Henry and his roystering companions, including Sir John Oldcastle, frequently use the expression "Gogs wounds," the equivalent of "God's wounds," one of Queen Bess's royal expletives, while the oath constantly on Der

The concluding group of episodes concerns the sins of the flesh. Straightway that Sir Guyon and the Palmer land upon the Isle of Bliss, they hear the hideous bellowing of many beasts, roaring "as if that hungers poynt or Venus sting had them enraged." Obviously these beasts stand for gluttony and lust, and the episode serves as a prelude to the Bowre of Bliss proper. Within the beautiful bower itself, there are two episodes to illustrate gluttony and two to illustrate lust. Thus, the bowl which Genius extends to Sir Guyon and the cup which the woman in the porch offers him are a twofold illustration of gluttony, and the fair maidens sporting in the fountain and Acrasia wooing the youth, Verdant, are a twofold illustration of lust.

The book closes with the Palmer recalling to their former estate the men whom Acrasia had transformed to beasts, all save one, Gryll, who resents the change and is allowed to resume his swinish form. He is no longer incontinent, he is a brute; no longer the servant of Akparía but of Onpiórns. Spenser's stern theology allows this man, of his own free will, to renounce his humanity. He lapses into one of those states of brutality which Aristotle says lie beyond the pale of human vice, and therefore of human continence.

Such, then, is the moral allegory of the Legend of Temperance. Upon a foundation of severely classical philosophy this English Renaissance poet rears an ornate Gothic structure, charmingly rich and varied. One sees herein the free fusion of two very noble traditions.

The University of Washington.

SONNET STRUCTURE IN SIDNEY'S 'ASTROPHEL

AND STELLA'

BY R. G. WHIGAM AND O. F. EMERSON

Too little attention has been paid to the varied and interesting forms used by Sidney in his sonnet cycle Astrophel and Stella. Besides, the statements about them have not always been accurate. Thus Schipper (Engl. Metrik II, 847) says there are four hexameter sonnets when there are six of this character (1, 6, 8, 76, 77, 102). He places fifty-two sonnets in the largest division, based on the rime scheme, when there are fifty-nine at least, and probably sixty. Other evidences of less careful statement may also be found, so that there seems ample reason for another examination of this important and influential sonnet cycle.1

Sidney's favorite rime scheme in the sonnets is abba abba cdcd ee, which is found in fifty-nine, possibly sixty examples. They are 2, 8, 9, 11, 12, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21, 23, 27, 28, 30, 31, 32, 34, 37, 38, 41, 44-47, 49, 51-57, 59, 60, 64, 67-9, 72, 76, 79, 82-86, 90-93, 95, 96, 97, 99, 104, 105, 107, 108, possibly 71. This enumeration assumes that final y (ie) with secondary stress may rime with words like be, me, thee on the one side, as in 69, 83, 84, 86, 90, 96, 107; or less commonly with words like die, lie, as in 32, 99. For the first compare the rimes thee-miserie (67), be-melodie, me-thank

In connection with the hexameter sonnets of Sidney may well be noted an extraordinary bit of subjective criticism, which we have not seen mentioned. We note it, because so often subjective criticism can not be readily disproved. When the subjective critic asserts of some poet, "This combination of consonants, or these vowels, indicate the sorrows of so-and-so, or the beauty of her eyes, or what not," one can only say poetry is too great an art to need factitious praise. In this astonishing example the proof is at hand. In his History of English Prosody I, 149, footnote, Saintesbury says:

'It is most noteworthy that the famous line

"Fool!" said my Muse, "look in thy heart and write,"

discards the lumbering top-hammer of the other thirteen, as if the Muse had applied the uncomplimentary epithet to them also."

For the disproof of this bit of pure subjectivity, it is only necessary to examine the sonnet itself.

347