History of English Humour Volume I Part 14

Comedians from Aristophanes downwards have been wont to complain in one place of that which they adopt in another--their object not being to adopt fixed principles so much as to show the varying shades of human thought. Shakespeare required something light to bring his deep reflections into bolder relief, and therefore frequently had recourse to humour. We are not surprised that he had no very high estimate of it, when we find him so much dependant upon "the alms-basket of words."

There is so much of this in his plays, that it is almost superfluous to quote, but a few instances may be taken at random. Falstaff to Poins--

"You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care not who sees your back--call you that backing your friends? A plague upon such backing; give me a man who will face me."

Falstaff to Prince Henry. Act I. Scene II.

I prythee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as G.o.d save thy grace--majesty, I should say, for grace thou wilt have none--

_P. Hen._ What! none?

_Fal._ No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and b.u.t.ter.

In Love's Labour Lost. Act I. Scene II.

_Armado._ Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love?

_Inoth._ Hercules, master.

_Arm._ Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

_Inoth._ Samson, master; he was a man of good carriage, for he raised the town gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love.

In the musicians scene, in Romeo and Juliet, Act IV. Scene V. we find--

_Musician._ Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

_Peter._ Then have at you with my wit. I will dry beat you with my iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like:

When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound--

Why _silver_ sound? Why music with her silver sound? What say you, Simon Catling?

_First Mins._ Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

_Peter._ Pretty. What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

_Sec. Mins._ I say "silver sound," because musicians sound for silver.

_Peter._ Pretty, too! What say you, James Soundpost?

_Third Mins._ Faith! I know not what to say.

_Peter._ O! I cry for mercy; you are the singer; I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound, because musicians have no gold for sounding.

We may here observe that the puns of Shakespeare are never of the "atrocious" cla.s.s; there is always something to back them up, and give them a shadow of probability. The tournaments of humour which he is fond of introducing, although good in effect upon the stage, are not favourable for any keen wit. Such conflicts must be kept up by artifice, cannot flow from natural suggestion, and degenerate into a mere splintering of words. One cause of the absence of "salt" in his writings is that he was not of a censorious or cynical spirit; another was that his turn of mind was rather sentimental than gay. Shakespeare evidently knew there might be humour among men of attainments, for he writes,--

"None are so surely caught, when they are catched, As wit turned fool; folly is wisdom hatched, Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school And wits' own grace to grace a learned fool."

But with him, those who indulge in it are clowns, simpletons, and profligates. Few of his grand characters are witty. Perhaps he was conscious of the great difficulty there would be in finding suitable sayings for them. Indelicacy and hostility would have to be alike avoided, and thus when the sage Gonzalo is to be amusing, he sketches a Utopian state of things, which he would introduce were he King of the island on which they are cast. He would surpa.s.s the golden age.

Sebastian and Antonio laugh at him, and cry "G.o.d save the King," Alonzo replies "Prythee, no more, thou dost talk nothing (_i.e._ nonsense) to me." Gonzalo replies that he did so purposely "to minister occasion to those gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing." They retort that they were not laughing at his humour, but at himself. "Who," he replies, "in this merry fooling am nothing to you" meaning, apparently, that he is acting the fool intentionally and out of his real character.

Hamlet, when his mind is distraught, "like sweet bells jangled," is allowed to indulge in a little punning, and Biron is humorous, for which he is reproached by Rosalind, who tells him that he is one

"Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools;"

that only silly thoughtless people admire wit, and that

"A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it--never in the tongue Of him that makes it."

Here the variable character of humour is recognised, but it is not to be supposed that Rosalind's arguments were intended to be strictly correct.

Very much must depend upon the form in which a jest is produced, and without the tongue of the utterer, it cannot exist though the sympathy of the listener is required for its appreciation.

In Shakespeare's plays, and in most comedies we find humour in the representation of ludicrous characters. Words, which would be dull enough in ordinary cases, become highly amusing when coming from men of peculiar views. Sometimes people are represented as perpetually riding their hobby, or harping on one favourite subject. We have an instance of this in Holophernes and his pedantry; and the conversation between the two gravediggers in Hamlet, is largely indebted for its relish to the contrast between the language of the men and their occupation. In the same way, the ignorance and misrepresentations of rustics in play acting, which Shakespeare had probably often observed in the provinces--gives zest to the exaggerated caricature in "Midsummer Night's Dream."--

_Bottom._ There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?

_Snout._ By'r lakin a parlous fear.

_Starveling._ I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.

_Bottom._ Not a whit. I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to say, we will not do harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not killed indeed; and for the more better a.s.surance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver; this will put them out of fear.

_Snout._ Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?

_Sta._ I fear it, I promise you.

_Bottom._ Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves to bring in--G.o.d shield us! a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wildfowl than your lion living, and we ought to look to it.

_Snout._ Therefore another prologue must tell, he is not a lion.

_Bottom._ Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he must himself speak through, saying thus, or to the same effect--"Ladies," or "Fair ladies, I would wish you," or "I would request you," or "I would entreat you not to fear, nor to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: no, I am no such thing.

I am a man as other men are," and there then let him name his name and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.

When the play comes on for performance and Snug the joiner roars "like any sucking dove," the Duke Theseus remarks--

A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

_Demetrius._ The very best as a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.

_Lysander._ This lion is a very fox for his valour.

_Theseus._ True, and a goose for his discretion.

_Demetrius._ Not so, my lord, for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose.

_Theseus._ His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour, for the goose carries not the fox.