The character of Caliban is generally thought (and justly so) to be one of the author's masterpieces. It is not indeed pleasant to see this character on the stage any more than it is to see the God Pan personated there. But in itself it is one of the wildest and most abstracted of all Shakespear's characters, whose deformity whether of body or mind is redeemed by the power and truth of the imagination displayed in it. It is the essence of grossness, but there is not a particle of vulgarity in it. Shakespear has described the brutal mind of Caliban in contact with the pure and original forms of nature; the character grows out of the soil where it is rooted uncontrouled, uncouth and wild, uncramped by any of the meannesses of custom. It is " of the earth, earthy." It seems almost to have been dug out of the ground, with a soul instinctively superadded to it answering to its wants and origin. Vulgarity is not natural coarseness, but conventional coarseness, learnt from others, contrary to, or without an entire conformity of natural power and disposition; as fashion is the common-place affectation of what is elegant and refined without any feeling of the essence of it. Schlegel, the admirable German critic on Shakespear, observes that Caliban is a poetical character, and "always speaks in blank verse." He first comes in thus: "Caliban. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both: a south-west blow on ye, And blister you all o'er! Prospero. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Caliban. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou stroak'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st give me Water with berries in't; and teach me how To name the bigger light and how the less That burn by day and night; and then I lov'd thee, And shew'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile : Curs'd be I that I did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, Who first was mine own king; and here you sty me And again, he promises Trinculo his services thus, if he will free him from his drudgery. "I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee ber ries, I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. I pr'ythee let me bring thee where crabs grow, And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts: To snare the nimble marmozet: I'll bring thee In conducting Stephano and Trinculo to Prospero's cell, Caliban shews the superiority of natural capacity over greater knowledge and greater folly; and in a former scene, when Ariel frightens them with his music, Caliban to encourage them accounts for it in the eloquent poetry of the senses. -"Be not afraid, the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices, Would make me sleep again; and then in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and shew riches I cried to dream again." This is not more beautiful than it is true. The poet here shews us the savage with the simplicity of a child, and makes the strange monster amiable. Shakespear had to paint the human animal rude and without choice in its pleasures, but not without the sense of pleasure or some germ of the affections. Master Barnardine in Measure for Measure, the savage of civilized life, is an admirable philosophical counterpart to Caliban. Shakespear has, as it were by design, drawn off from Caliban the elements of whatever is ethereal and refined, to compound them in the unearthly mould of Ariel. Nothing was ever more finely conceived than this contrast between the material and the spiritual, the gross and delicate. Ariel is imaginary power, the swiftness of thought personified. When told to make good speed by Prospero, he says, "I drink the air before me." This is something like Puck's boast on a similar occasion, " I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes." But Ariel differs from Puck in having a fellow feeling in the interests of those he is employed about. How exquisite is the following dialogue between him and Prospero! "Ariel. Your charm so strongly works 'em, That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender. Prospero. Dost thou think so, spirit? Ariel. Mine would, sir, were I human. Prospero. And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion'd as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?” It has been observed that there is a peculiar charm in the songs introduced in Shakespear, which, without conveying any distinct images, seem to recall all the feelings connected with them, like snatches of half-forgotten music heard indistinctly and at intervals. There is this effect produced by Ariel's songs, which (as we are told) seem to sound in the air, and as if the person playing them were invisible. We shall give one instance out of many of this general power. "Enter FERDINAND; and ARIEL invisible, playing and singing. ARIEL'S SONG. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands; Curt'sied when you have, and kiss'd, (The wild waves whist ;) Foot it featly here and there; And sweet sprites the burden bear. [Burden dispersedly. Hark, hark! bowgh-wowgh: the watch-dogs Bowgh-wowgh. Ariel. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry cock-a-doodle-doo. [bark, Ferdinand. Where should this music be? in air or earth? It sounds no more: and sure it waits upon |