Mary Lamb had little of her brother’s literary power. She was in sympathy with his literary tastes, she had something of his shrewdness of judgment, but she had none of his wealth of fancy, his pliancy of style, his humorous insight, or his learning. Although Mary Lamb’s renderings of the plots of the comedies have the charm of matter-of-fact simplicity, they cannot be held on a close scrutiny to satisfy all the needs of the situation. They often trace the course of the stories too faintly and imperfectly to recall Shakespeare’s own image. Frequently in Mary Lamb’s work pertinent intricacies of plot are blurred by a silent omission of details, knowledge of which is essential to a complete understanding of the Shakespearean theme. For example, the story of the caskets is excluded altogether from Mary Lamb’s version of the plot of The Merchant of Venice. Of Bottom and his allies in Midsummer Night’s Dream she has nothing to tell; Titania falls in love with a nameless sleeping “clown who had lost his way in the wood.” And when (in Mary Lamb’s version) the ass’s head which Puck sets on the clown’s neck is removed, he is “left to finish his nap with his own fool’s head upon his shoulders.” Nothing more is vouchsafed about the “rude mechanicals” of Theseus’s Athens. Mary Lamb’s rendering of As You Like It admits no mention of the melancholy Jaques, of the shrewdly witty Touchstone, or of the rustic Audrey. The ludicrously self-centred Malvolio and his comically tragic self-deception disappear from her version of Twelfth Night. Elsewhere in the comedies, and even in Charles Lamb’s own work on the tragedies, Shakespeare’s text is at times misinterpreted. Consequently, however fascinating in themselves the narratives of the Lambs may prove to young readers, Lamb’s Tales offer them a very fragmentary knowledge of the scope of Shakespeare’s plots. An endeavour to supply young readers with a fuller and more accurate account of them is therefore well justified, and this endeavour is made in the present volume.
In studying the stories on which Shakespeare based his plays, it is always worth bearing in mind that he cannot be credited with the whole invention of any of them, except in the case of one play—the comedy of Love’s Labour’s Lost. In accordance with the custom of all dramatists of the day, it was his practice to seek the main lines of his plots in prose-fictions, or in historical chronicles by other hands.
Romantic fiction was born for modern Europe on Italian soil. Boccaccio of fourteenth-century Florence and Boccaccio’s long line of disciples—Bandello of Milan, Giraldi Cinthio of Ferrara, and many writers of less familiar name of the sixteenth century—had for generations before Shakespeare’s epoch furnished not only Italy, but all the Western countries of Europe with their chief recreative literature in prose. The Italian novels were through the second half of the sixteenth century constantly translated into English and French, and it was to those English or French translations of the Italian romances that Shakespeare owed the main suggestion for all the plots of his comedies (save Love’s Labour’s Lost) and for many of those of his tragedies. Belleforest’s “Histoires Tragiques,” a collection of French versions of the Italian stories of Bandello, was very often in his hands. Novels by Bandello are the ultimate sources of the stories of Romeo and Juliet, of Much Ado about Nothing, and of Twelfth Night. All’s Well that Ends Well and Cymbeline largely rest on foundations laid by Boccaccio. The tales of Othello and Measure for Measure are traceable to Giraldi Cinthio.
But although Shakespeare’s borrowings from the frank and vivacious fiction of sunny Italy were large and open-handed, his debt was greater in appearance than it was in reality. He freely altered and adapted the borrowed stories in accordance with his sense of dramatic and artistic fitness, so that the finished plays present them in shapes which bear little relation to their original forms. At times he intertwined one borrowed story with a second, and his marvellous ingenuity completely changed the aspect of both; each assumed new and unexpected point and consistency. With such effect did he combine in The Merchant of Venice the story of the caskets with the story of Shylock’s bond with Antonio. His capacity of assimilating all that he read was as omnipotent as his power of assimilating all that passed in life within range of his eye or ear. The stories that he drew from books on which to found his plays can only be likened to base ore, which the magic of his genius had the faculty of transmuting into gold.
But for young readers, who approach Shakespeare’s work for the first time through the present narration of the stories of his plays, it is not necessary to learn whence Shakespeare derived their bare lineaments, or how he breathed into them the glowing spirit of life. It is essential that young readers should find delight and recreation in the tales as he finally presented them in his plays. Such delight and recreation I believe the contents of this volume is fitted to afford them.
It only remains to express the wish that the knowledge here conveyed to young readers of Shakespeare’s plots may lead them to become in future years loving students of the text of his plays. The words employed by Charles Lamb in a like connection when he first sent into the world his and his sister’s “Tales from Shakespeare” may fitly be echoed here. Young men and women cannot learn too early, in life how the study of Shakespeare’s work may, in a far higher degree than the study of other literature, enrich their fancy, strengthen them in virtue, withdraw them from selfish and mercenary thoughts. Life will bring them no better instructor in the doing of sweet and honourable action, no better teacher of courtesy, benignity, generosity, humanity; for of both stories and characters proffering the counsel to seek what is good and true and to shun what is bad and false Shakespeare’s pages are full.
SIDNEY LEE.
