SHAKSPEARE CORRESPONDENCE.
On a Passage in the Second Part of Henry IV.—The Death of Falstaff.—I have read with much pleasure your very temperate remarks on the fiery contributions of some of your correspondents; and I trust that, after so gentle a rebuke from certainly the most good-natured Editor living, all will henceforth go "merry as a marriage bell." Amongst the lore that I have picked up since my first acquaintance with "N. & Q.," is that profound truth,
"'Tis a very good world that we live in:"
but I must say I think it would be a very dull one if we all thought alike; as "N. & Q." would be a very dull book if it were not seasoned with differences of opinion, and its pages diversified with discussions and ingenious argument. And what can be more agreeable, when, like an animated conversation, it is conducted with fairness and good temper?
However, now we are to start fair again; and to begin with a difference, I must presume to question a decision of your own which I would fain see recalled. I believe with you that Mr. Collier's Notes and Emendations gives the true reading of the passage in Henry V., "on a table of green frieze," and I, moreover, think that Theobald's conjecture "and 'a babbled o' green fields," was worthy of any poet. Theobald was engaged in the laborious work of minute verbal correction, and necessarily took an isolated view of particular passages. Presenting the difficulty which this passage did, his suggestion was a happy and poetical thought. But when you say that the scholiast excelled his author, we must take another view of the case. The question is not as to which passage is the most poetical, but which is most in place; which was the idea most natural to be expressed. And in this I think you will admit that Shakspeare's judgment must be deferred to, and that taking the character of Falstaff, together with the other circumstances detailed of his death, it is not natural that he should be represented as "babbling o' green fields."
You are aware that Fielding, in his Journey from this World to the next, met with Shakspeare, who, in answer to a similar question to that put to Göthe, gave a like answer to the one you report. This arises in a great measure from the imperfection of language; the most careful writers at times express themselves obscurely. But with regard to Ben Jonson, I should say that, though neither a mean nor an unfriendly critic, he was certainly a prejudiced one. He saw Shakspeare from the conventional-classic point of view, and would doubtless have "blotted" much that we should have regretted submitting to his judgment. Yet, after all, the anecdote is not according to the fact. Shakspeare did "blot" thousands of lines, probably many more than Ben Jonson himself ever did; and of this we have the best evidence in whole plays almost re-written. Even in the single instance rare Ben gives of Shakspeare's incorrectness, published many years after the latter's death, the memory or hearing of the former either were at fault, or the line had been "blotted."
Absolute perfection is, of course, not to be looked for; there is no such thing in reference to human affairs, unless it be in constant and unobstructed growth and development. This is exhibited in Shakspeare's writing to a degree shown by no other writer. The shortcomings of Shakspeare are most evident when he is compared with himself,—the earlier with the later writer. But take his earliest work, so far as can be ascertained, in its earliest form, and the literature of the age cannot produce its equal.
Samuel Hickson.
"I knew there was but one way, for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields."—Shakspeare.
"I knew there was but one way, for his nose was as sharp as a pen on a table of green frieze."—Shakspeare corrected.