SHAKSPEARE'S USE OF THE WORD "DELIGHTED."
(Vol. ii., pp. 113. 139. 200. 234.)
I should have been content to leave the question of the meaning of the word delighted as it stands in your columns, my motive, so kindly appreciated by Mr. SINGER, in raising the discussion being, by such means to arrive at the true meaning of the word, but that the remarks of L.B.L. (p. 234.) recall to my mind a canon of criticism which I had intended to communicate at an earlier period as useful for the guidance of commentators in questions of this nature. It is as follows:—Master the grammatical construction of the passage in question (if from a drama, in its dramatic and I scenic application), deducing therefrom the general sense, before you attempt to amend or fix the meaning of a doubtful word.
Of all writers, none exceed Shakspeare in logical correctness and nicety of expression. With a vigour of thought and command of language attained by no man besides, it is fair to conclude, that he would not be guilty of faults of construction such as would disgrace a school-boy's composition; and yet how unworthily is he treated when we find some of his finest passages vulgarised and degraded through misapprehensions arising from a mere want of that attention due to the very least, not to say the greatest, of writers. This want of attention (without attributing to it such fatal consequences) appears to me evident in L.B.L.'s remarks, ably as he analyses the passage. I give him credit for the faith that enabled him to discover a sense in it as it stands; but when he says that it is perfectly intelligible in its natural sense, it appears to me that he cannot be aware of the innumerable explanations that have been offered of this very clear passage. The source of his error is plainly referable to the cause I have pointed out.
It is quite true that, in the passage referred to, the condition of the body before and after death is contrasted, but this is merely incidental. The natural antithesis of "a sensible warm motion" is expressed in "a kneaded clod" and "cold obstruction;" but the terms of the other half of the passage are not quite so well balanced. On the other hand, it is not the contrasted condition of each, but the separation of the body and spirit—that is, death—which is the object of the speaker's contemplation. Now with regard to the meaning of the term delighted, L.B.L. says it is applied to the spirit "not in its state after death, but during life." I must quote the lines once more:—
"Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods," &c.
And if I were to meet with a hundred thousand passages of a similar construction, I am confident they would only confirm the view that the spirit is represented in the then present state as at the termination of the former clause of the sentence. If such had not been the view instinctively taken by all classes of readers, there could have been no difficulty about the meaning of the word.
As a proof that this view of the construction is correct, let L.B.L. substitute for "delighted spirit", spirit no longer delighted, and he will find that it gives precisely the sense which he deduces from the passage as it stands. If this be true, then, according to his view, the negative and affirmative of a proposition may be used indifferently, in the same time and circumstances giving exactly the same meaning.
MR. SINGER furnishes another instance (Vol. ii., p. 241.) of the value of my canon. I think there can be no doubt that his explanation of the meaning of the word eisell is correct; but if it were not, any way of reading the passage in which it occurs would lead me to the conclusion that it could not be a river. Drink up is synonymous with drink off, drink to the dregs. A child, taking medicine, is urged to "drink it up." The idea of the passage appears to be that each of the acts should go beyond the last preceding in extravagance:—
"Woo't weep? Woo't fight? Woo't fast? Woo't tear thyself?
Woo't drink up eisell?"
And then comes the climax—"eat a crocodile?" Here is a regular succession of feats, the last but one of which is sufficiently wild, though not unheard of, and leading to the crowning extravagance. The notion of drinking up a river would be both unmeaning and out of place.
SAMUEL HICKSON.
September 18. 1850.