The Essays of Douglas Jerrold

by Douglas William Jerrold

“Shakespeare built himself a house and planted a tree. The house is gone, but the barbarians preserve bricks of it in their inner chambers, even—I tremble as I pen it—as we preserve the altars of our gods.

“The tree was cut down by a fakir in a brain fever, but the wood is still worshipped. And this, O Ting! I would not ask you to believe had not your own eyes witnessed that wonderful tree,[^[5]] the leaves whereof, falling to the ground, become mice! Hence learn that the leaves of Shakespeare’s mulberry have become men, and on a certain day every year, with mulberry boughs about their heads, their bodies clothed in their richest garments, they chant praises to the memory of Shakespeare, and drink wine to his name.

[5]. See Navarrete’s China for the account of this tree; underneath which, we humbly suggest, it would be as well to keep a cat.

“Shakespeare—Forlstoff’s father, and the father of a hundred lusty sons and daughters, such as until that time had never been born, Shakespeare—died! He was buried in a chest of cedar, set about with plates of gold. On one of these plates was writ some magic words; for thieves, breaking into the grave, were fixed and changed to stone; and are now to be seen even as they were first struck by the charm of the magician. And so much, beloved Ting, of Shakespeare, Forlstoff’s father.”

That our Mandarin has herein displayed very popular abilities for the difficult task of a commentator, no one who has read many volumes of Shakespearian commentaries will, we believe, deny. It is observable that in many instances he makes his facts; a custom of particular advantage to the indulgence of the most peculiar opinions and conclusions. We have read some writers who, deprived of this privilege, would really have nothing to work upon. The pleasure of making a giant, great as it possibly may be, cannot be comparable to the delight of killing him, our own handiwork. If, however, our reader will bear with us, we will proceed with the labours of Ching on the character of Falstaff, and on those personages and events, directly and indirectly, associated with his glorious name. Falstaff in China! Jack Falstaff on a regimen of rice!

“Forlstoff was born in the third hour of the morning; and at his birth the roundness of his belly and the whiteness of his head betokened his future greatness. But little is known of his early life; save that he assisted in the temples of the barbarians, where his voice, once remarkable for its sweetness, became broken with the zeal of the singer. He then travelled with a juggler, and—if lying were not the especial vice of the barbarians—did greater wonders than even our own Yiyi. The Eldermen of London—so named because chosen from the oldest inhabitants—are known by a ring upon the thumb; this ring Forlstoff, to the admiration of the barbarian court, crept through and through like any worm, and was promoted by the king therefore. I should, however, do evil unto truth did I not advise you, O Ting, that this feat of Forlstoff seems greater than it really is: for a tame eagle being kept at the court of the king, it was afterwards discovered that a talon of the bird was something thicker than the waist of the said Forlstoff.

“It is certain that Forlstoff, a short time after his feat with the ring, became a student in a place called Clemency Inn; which, as its name implies, is a temple wherein youths study to become meek and merciful, to love all men as brothers of their own flesh, and to despise the allurements of wealth. There was with him another student, called Robert Shaller, who afterwards became a mandarin, or, in the barbarian tongue, a justice of the peace, being promoted to that office because he was like a double radish, and had his head carved with a knife. He was, when at Clemency Inn, dressed in an eel-skin, and used to sleep in a lute-case. He lent Forlstoff what the barbarians call a thousand pounds, which Forlstoff was honest enough to—acknowledge.

“I next find Forlstoff in company with one Princeal, the son of the barbarian king, and several thieves. Forlstoff—and here the vice of his father, Shakespeare, breaks out in the child—tempts the king’s son to turn robber. He is, however, so ashamed of the wickedness, that he goes about it with a mask on his face, as a king’s son ought.

“Forlstoff falls into disgrace with Princeal, and is sent by him with soldiers to Coventry; that being a place in the barbarian country where no man speaks to his neighbour. After some delay Forlstoff marches through Coventry to fight one Pursy, who can ride up a straight hill, and is therefore called Hotspur. Forlstoff fights with him by—that is, near a clock, and kills him, Princeal, the king’s son, meanly endeavouring to deprive Forlstoff of the honour.

“After the battle Forlstoff goes to dine with the king at Wincer, which is the royal manufactory for soap. Forlstoff pretends to love two wives at the same time, and is put by them in what is called by the barbarians a buck-basket—that is a basket for the finer sort of barbarians, their word buck answering to our push, and meaning high, handsome, grand. He is flung into the river, and saves himself by swimming to a garter. He is afterwards punished by being turned into the royal forest, with horns upon his head and chains upon his hands. Princeal, in time, becomes king, and discards Forlstoff, who goes home—goes to bed—does nothing but look at the ends of his fingers, talks of the green fields about Wincer, and dies.