To draw a character is the master-stroke of description. In this Tacitus excels: his figures are natural, distinct, and complete; not a feature wanting or misplaced. Shakespear however exceeds Tacitus in the sprightliness of his figures: some characteristical circumstance is generally invented or laid hold of, which paints more to the life than many words. The following instances will explain my meaning, and at the same time prove my observation to be just.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice,
By being peevish? I tell that what, Anthonio,
(I love thee, and it is my love that speaks):
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O my Anthonio, I do know of those,
That therefore only are reputed wise,
For saying nothing.
Merchant of Venice, act 1. sc. 1.
Again,
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his reasons are two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Ibid.
In the following passage a character is completed by a single stroke.
Shallow. O the mad days that I have spent; and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead.
Silence. We shall all follow, Cousin.
Shallow. Certain, ’tis certain, very sure, very sure; Death (as the Psalmist saith) is certain to all: all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?
Slender. Truly, Cousin, I was not there.