The Plays – Inside Shakespeare’s Suicidal Mind

It is clear Shakespeare thought, and wrote, about suicide…a lot.

If researchers and scholars peer into the writings of Shakespeare to find his mind, search his soul and extrapolate from his writings what he personally believed, to find out how he felt about something and to find his true character and to use his writings as somewhat biographical the same use of his writings must be made available to find out how he felt about suicide – a subject on which he wrote much. Extrapolating from that, by looking at his plays, can it be discerned Shakespeare would be the type of person who would entertain the notion if the circumstances presented themselves and, possibly, carry out?

Or, must everything he wrote about suicide be chocked up to literary creation, fanciful poetic licence, make-believe words that fit a current scene and not words that bespoke the man writing them?  A view asserting his writings on suicide can only be seen as literary creation with having no personal connection to Shakespeare isn’t fair.  A researcher or scholar can’t use his words to determine he liked to make fun of lawyers, detested falsehood, made fun of the latest city fashion, and loved the rustic, country way of life and then not ascribe the same technique to his thoughts on suicide.  It doesn’t work like that.  Orthodoxy and scholars can’t use his poetry and plays to find something pleasant about Shakespeare’s character and then disregard the uncomfortable stuff.  It’s a two way street; not a comfortable one way.

When Shakespeare wrote of suicide – either the act itself or the idea of suicide or when a character thought about suicide – he parsed it, analysed it, praised it, found honour in it, dealt with motives, the manner by which it should be committed, encouraged it, discussed how churches treated suicide, how governments thought about it and pretty much covered the gamut when it came to discussing topics surrounding suicide. 

Can anything be gleaned by deconstructing Shakespeare’s written works, his mind?  And in the process try to learn what Shakespeare himself – the greatest literary voice of emotions ever – thought of suicide. Oh, one more thing, the most famous words ever writ in English are about suicide.

Sources

It is well-known Shakespeare relied heavily on sources when crafting his own work: previous historical research, religious texts, Roman and Greek authors, previous plays or other previously written literary works.  Some of the events Shakespeare wrote about actually happened; some events in his plays are his inventions.  As to suicide, some were historical; some invented by previous authors; and some suicides were entirely Shakespeare’s literary invention.

With that fact in mind, it’s important to remember Shakespeare didn’t conjure out of thin air every suicide he wrote about; so it’s not like he had suicide on his mind 24-7 in order to come up with all the numerous suicides he depicts.  However, equally important to remember is that he did choose to write plays that contained historical suicides as opposed to picking historical persons/topics to write about where no suicides occurred.  In that vein, it is clear Shakespeare not only invented suicides but chose to write on historical ones as well.

Dating

Shakespeare wrote 38 plays, either on his own or in collaboration with others, probably had an identifiable hand in two more, possibly more that haven’t been conclusively identified, lots of sonnets, a couple longer narrative poems and a couple shorter ones.  Dating when Shakespeare wrote each of his plays is part art, part science, part analytic reasoning, part research and when all pieced together sometimes proves successful in accurate dating as to when he wrote a specific play, sometimes not.  Top scholars disagree on dating. Because this investigation is not researching play dates the dates given in this chapter are approximate; some might disagree and their disagreement might very well be correct. Because scholars have spent the better part of their academic careers dating Shakespeare’s work and can’t agree on dates this investigation acknowledges it has nothing to add. The approximate dates given are an approximation.

Shakespeare’s first known literary achievement, in collaboration with others or on his own, hits the books around 1589; his last known work comes in around 1614; thus spanning a writing career of approximately 25 years.  His works below are listed by their short titles; bolded titles signify a connection to suicide.

Plays

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

The Taming of the Shrew

2 King Henry VI

3 King Henry VI

1 King Henry VI

Titus Andronicus

Edward III – partial/substantial (?) contribution

Richard III

The Comedy of Errors

Love’s Labour’s Lost

Romeo and Juliet

Richard II

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

King John

1 King Henry IV

2 King Henry IV

The Merry Wives of Windsor

Much Ado About Nothing

The Merchant of Venice

Julius Caesar

King Henry V

As You Like It

Hamlet

Twelfth Night (What You Will)

Troilus and Cressida

Othello

Sir Thomas More – partial contribution

Measure for Measure

Timon of Athens

All’s Well That Ends Well

King Lear

MacBeth

Antony and Cleopatra

Pericles, Prince of Tyre

Coriolanus

Cymbeline

The Winter’s Tale

The Tempest

Henry VIII (All Is True)

The Two Noble Kinsmen

Narrative Poems

Venus and Adonis

The Rape of Lucrece

Other Works

Sonnets

The Passionate Pilgrim – partial contribution

The Phoenix and Turtle

A Lover’s Complaint

            That’s not an insignificant amount of bolding.  It seems Shakespeare had much to say on the matter.

Where To Start?

            If the investigation started with To be or not to be half the readers would guffaw at the predictability of such a choice and accuse the Project of being cliché.  If the Project didn’t lead with To be the other half would scream blasphemy by not leading off with Hamlet. Spoiler alert: Hamlet doesn’t bat lead-off.

The decision as to how go about the ordering took no small time.  Various constructs and ordering were thought through – some might say not very well if the below ordering doesn’t garner approval. Project and further editorial discussion took place as to how, and in what order, Shakespeare’s works on suicide should be presented. In the end, it was determined to just go, hit start and dive in.  Therefore, the order in which the investigation puts forth Shakespeare’s words on suicide has no order; the random ordering comes with no rhyme or reason. Are you sitting comfortably? Thus, it begins, the most important chapter of all: a look into Shakespeare’s mind.  The canon.

Macbeth c. 1606

            Macbeth gets to start things off for no other reason that was the top play on top of the tottering pile next to the keyboard when this chapter was being written; it seems as good a reason as any as to what play gets to start the deep peer into Shakespeare’s mind; a peer to see if anything can be gleaned from Shakespeare’s complex mind on a complex, taboo subject.

Invention or Historical

            Much of Shakespeare’s Macbeth – characters, Scotland setting, some plot lines – rests on historical sources and is factual, or at least quasi-factual.  The suicide is his invention.

Number of Suicides – 1

            Lady Macbeth.[1] 

The Backstory

            Lady Macbeth is a schemer, ambitious, power-hungry, dominant and knows what she wants.  She wants to be queen but there’s one catch: she’s not married to the king, Duncan.  Not to worry, says she, she will gently persuade her husband, Macbeth, to kill the king and thereafter Macbeth will be king and she, his queen.  Her persuasive words are successful and the pair of them do an admirable job, each playing their own part: Lady Macbeth as loving, bullying instigator; Macbeth wielder of uplifted daggers.  Macbeth murders Duncan and the Macbeths, initially, relish their new-found royal state. But things soon start to go sideways: more murders abound.

            Thereafter, Lady Macbeth’s guilt starts to awaken: she starts sleep-walking like an automaton while acknowledging her guilt by uttering inculpatory statements while hallucinating.  In short notice, it is very apparent she has gone mad and Shakespeare makes it clear to his audience she has gone mad.  Two other characters – a gentlewoman and a doctor – witness one of Lady Macbeth’s hallucinatory, sleep-walking episodes and the doctor says this disease is beyond my practice.  Yet, I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in the beds.[2]  Later, it’s clear the doctor feels, prophetically, Lady Macbeth might be a danger to herself when he says remove from her the means of all annoyance,[3] i.e., remove things she could use to kill herself with.

            Later, as their castle and stronghold, Dunsinane, is under a powerful siege by an attacking army while being defended by Macbeth, Lady Macbeth kills herself.  Because her suicide occurs off-stage and the audience is never told how she took her own life, her method remains unknown.

Motive

            At its foundation, Lady Macbeth’s descent into madness is due to guilt.  This guilt-induced madness brought on her automatism and manifested in her sleep-walking while uttering all sorts of subconscious thoughts: wishing the blood stain on her hands, which is long since washed off, begone; admonishing Macbeth, as if he was present, for being afraid; telling the not-present Macbeth to not look so pale and come to bed and not to worry about Banquo – one of the murder victims – because he is buried in his grave. There is no indication her guilt was then accompanied by shame; possibly, but it’s unclear.  Guilt and shame are similarly situated emotions, yet different.  One might feel extreme guilt but feel no shame[4], especially if they didn’t fear being shamed or ostracized by members of a social circle or public.   Guilt definitely started her downward spiral; degrees of madness or wanting to escape accountability ended it.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Lady Macbeth’s suicide is Shakespeare’s invention.  It doesn’t appear Shakespeare was trying to make any political or religious protest or statement for or against self-killing by having her commit suicide.  This would be an instance where the suicide fit what he was writing: a scheming, evil, power-hungry, ambitious, murderous woman intent on advancing her cause and her husband’s cause to the peril of others.  Shakespeare finally has Lady Macbeth’s guilt kick in and in doing so, he drives her mad, torments her mind, to the point she is completely overcome, fully, with guilt to the point she kills herself: ending her life is the only way to escape her tormented madness.  This is a good example of a dishonourable suicide, undertaken for dishonourable motives, by a dishonourable person.  Literary creation fitting the scene and the play he was working on at the time seems to be the prime reason Shakespeare included Lady Macbeth’s suicide and in the manner he did.  No deeper meaning or ulterior motive can plausibly, nor should, be attributed to Shakespeare’s mind when he invented Lady Macbeth’s naturally-flowing, self-hand demise.

One positive result of Lady Macbeth’s suicide was that it prompted Macbeth to wax introspective; lucky for Shakespeare, Macbeth’s words have turned into one of Shakespeare’s most well-known passages.  Immediately after hearing of his wife’s death, Macbeth philosophizes thusly:

            To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

            Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

            To the last syllable of recorded time,

            And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

            The way to dusty death.  Out, out, brief candle!

            Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,

            That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

            And then is heard no more; it is a tale

            Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

            Signifying nothing.[5]

It is possible Macbeth is referring to his wife as a fool; but that interpretation is not certain. All in all, Macbeth’s words seem to speak more about how Shakespeare viewed life than Macbeth felt about his wife’s death.[6]

Shakespeare’s Statement on Suicide

            Nothing political, social, religious nor personal.  Lady Macbeth’s suicide was a fitting end befitting the character; a just death for an unjust person.

Romeo and Juliet, c. 1595

            If Lady Macbeth’s suicide is at one end of the spectrum – guilt-induced madness in a middle-aged, calculating, murderous woman lovesick for power – the other end of the suicide spectrum might be bookended by two innocent teens – Romeo and Juliet – lovesick for love, depicted in an empathetic suicide.

Invention or Historical

            Invented, but borrowed from previous authors.  The foundational concept – that of two lovers forbidden to declare their love due to their families’ hated rivalry – starts with Roman poet Ovid (c. 43 BC – c. 18 AD) in his mythological-based Metamorphoses; Metamorphoses birthed the story of Pyramus and Thisby – Pyramus and Thisby eventually birthed the Romeo and Juliet concept.

The story of Romeo and Juliet has a long lineage and during that long historical lineage the story underwent some evolutionary DNA changes.  The first time the world hears of the star-crossed teens is in 1476 by way of a story by Masuccio of Selerno.  Masuccio, the founding father of Juliet and her Romeo, had no suicides in his story.   Luigi da Porto in 1530 writes his own version of the Romeo and Juliet story – Historia novellamente ritrovata di due Nobili Amanti[7] – and thus starts the evolutionary changes; da Porto introduces suicide.  Matteo Bandello wrote a further adaptation in 1554 and cements the method of the suicides which holds until Shakespeare tried his hand at it.  Pierre Boaistuau in 1559 translated Bandello’s work into French and finally, in 1562, Englishman Arthur Brooke brings it across the Channel and puts his own spin on the story in a narrative poem. Shakespeare, in c. 1595, decided to have a go at it. Turns out it wasn’t that bad of a go.[8]

Number of Suicides – 2

            Romeo Montague – a dram of poison.

            Juliet Capulet – a dagger; Romeo’s no less, alas.

The Backstory

            Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene,[9] the Montague and Capulet families are sworn enemies, constantly fighting, quarrelling and killing.  By and by, Romeo Montague sees Juliet Capulet and moments after seeing her exclaims did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw beauty till this night[10]and instantly falls for Juliet.  Hard.  After speaking to each other, the 13 year-old Juliet hopes the older – ? – teenager Romeo is single and says if he be married, my grave is like to be my wedding bed.[11] She then falls for Romeo.  Hard.  When Juliet is told the gentleman she spoke with is actually Romeo Montague, an enemy to her family, she laments Romeo is hateful to her family’s name and mourns my only love sprung from my only hate.[12]

What does Shakespeare do after he has Romeo and Juliet fall in love at first sight?  Not much, other than write one of the best scenes in literary history and cobble together a bunch of words in such a fashion that, arguably, become some of the best words ever cobbled together in close proximity in literary history.  And then he gets back to the whole Montague-Capulet-enemy-plot-thing-but-Romeo-and-Juliet-are-madly-in-love-so-what-is-one-to-do?  Get married, in secret of course, by a helpful friar.  Then, alas, bad luck haps along and while quarrelling Romeo kills Tybalt, Juliet’s cousin. Romeo is banished from Verona, heartbroken; he’d rather be dead and Shakespeare makes it clear Romeo would rather be dead. Because of Romeo’s banishment, Juliet is heartbroken.

Juliet’s father, old man Capulet, not knowing his daughter is already married to Romeo and thinking Juliet is heartbroken over the death of her cousin Tybalt, hastily arranges for Juliet’s marriage to Paris; by any count, Paris would be a respectable husband for his daughter. Surely, the marriage to Paris will cheer her up; except, she’s already married. If this wasn’t topsy-turvy enough Shakespeare really throws a wrench into things thereafter.  The helpful friar gives Juliet a temporary sleeping potion, just enough to make her seem dead long enough to get out of the wedding to Paris, give Romeo enough time to get back to Verona so he can whisk the waking Juliet off to the country until the scandal dies down.  Should be fairly straight forward. Except…

Romeo never gets word Juliet has taken a sleeping potion of the temporary kind and is awaiting his return; all he hears during his banishment is that Juliet is dead.  Romeo’s heart – which was on the mend from the first break – is now shattered, beyond repair.  Heartbreak turns into all-consuming despair, his Juliet is dead.  Romeo resolves – fully and completely – to kill himself and from an apothecary for forty ducats buys a dram of poison, such soon speeding gear, as will disperse itself through all the veins, that the life-weary taker may fall dead.[13]

In due course, Romeo shows up at Juliet’s ‘grave’, pries open the burial vault, and sees the-seeming-but-not-really-dead Juliet.  Holding her limp body in his arms Romeo grieves,

      Eyes look your last.

Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

[He kisses Juliet.]

Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark.

Here’s to my love! [Drinks.] O true apothecary!

Thy drugs are quick.  Thus with a kiss I die. [Falls.][14]

That’s shattered-heart suicide number one via poison.  Juliet wakes, sees Romeo lying beside her with an empty bottle of poison in his hand, which she gets upset at because he left none for her and chides her dead love – O churl, drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after?  I will kiss thy lips: haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative.[15]  Alas, no, there is no poison left on Romeo’s lips.  Juliet then hears some noise close by and determines to join her love, quickly:

Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief.  O happy dagger!

[Snatching Romeo’s dagger.]

This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.[16]

 [She stabs herself and falls on Romeo’s body.]

That’s shattered-heart suicide number two via a dagger. Prince Escalus of Verona is, as is everybody within ten mile of his person, utterly shocked; and sad, so very sad. The two suicides of the star-crossed teen lovers finally puts an end to the Montague and Capulet hatred and Prince Escalus, standing over the two suicide corpses still on-stage, closes one of Shakespeare’s finest plays thusly:

                        A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

                        The sun for sorrow will not show his head.

                        Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

                        Some shall be pardon’d and some punished;

                        For never was a story of more woe

                        Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.[17]

            Remember Leonard Digges?  The two shattered-heart suicides were the first two suicides Digges referred to in the Folio.  Just so you don’t have to go back and look this is the passage you’re looking for:

                        Nor shall I e’re believe, or thinke thee dead

                        (Though mist) until our bankrout Stage be sped

                        (Imposible) with some new straine t’out-do

                        Passions of Juliet, and her Romeo.

            Digges wept. 

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Neither the two suicides nor their method are Shakespeare’s inventions; however, how Shakespeare specifically worded how Romeo and Juliet get to that point are of his creation: how they felt the heartbreak, how deep the heartbreak goes and how it affected their actions thereafter. 

Romeo’s banishment from Verona and Juliet is the cause of his first heartbreak and Romeo equates his banishment with death; indeed, he would rather be dead: And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife, no sudden means of death, though ne’er so mean, but ‘banished’ to kill me?[18] Shortly thereafter, after Romeo thinks Juliet has forsaken him because he killed her cousin Tybalt and caused her such terrible grief,  he begins a suicide attempt while asking the friar where in his body his name of ‘Romeo’ lodges so he can kill it.

Romeo:             O, tell me friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge?  Tell me that I may sack

the hateful mansion. [Drawing his sword.]

Friar:               Hold thy desperate hand.

Art thou a man?  Thy form cries out thou art:

Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote

The unreasonable fury of a beast.

                        _________

                                    Wilt thou slay thyself?

And slay thy lady, that in thy life lives,

By doing damned hate upon thyself?[19]

            Damned hate.  Damned by the church/God for killing yourself.  Juliet, not long after, starts thinking about her suicide after her father disowns her for not agreeing to marry Paris; her mother sides with Juliet’s father:

Juliet:  Is there no pity sitting in the clouds

                        That sees into the bottom of my grief?

                        O, sweet my Mother, cast me not away!

                        Delay this marriage for a month, a week;

                        Or if you do not, make the bridal bed

                        In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.[20]

 She then decides to visit the friar to see if he can fix any of this, but if not, if all else fail, myself have power to die.[21] Juliet confirms her intention to the friar to kill herself if he can’t remedy the situation.

Juliet:   If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,

Do thou but call my resolution wise,

And with this knife I’ll help myself presently.

                                    ________

                        Give me some present counsel; or, behold,

                        ‘Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife

                        Shall play the umpire…

                                                ________

                                                                         I long to die

                        If what thou speak’st speak not of remedy.[22]

With that sequence Shakespeare thus ends his expose into their minds: both have suicidal thoughts – completely due to heartbreak.  Soon, a possible happy-ending gets floated by the friar devising the temporary sleeping potion idea and attempting to get word to Romeo that Juliet awaits for his return.  The possible happy-ending gets thwarted even quicker and Romeo’s heart – which was on the mend – now is shattered into a million irreparable shards, impossible to put back together.  His previous thoughts of suicide morph into resolution; there is nothing for it now, Romeo is determined to kill himself after learning Juliet is dead, or so he has heard.  His appearance and demeanour take on a wild look; he appears impatient and his friend notices it.

            Balthasar:        I do beseech you, sir, have patience;

            Your looks are pale and wild, and do import

            Some misadventure.

Romeo:                         Tush, thou are deceived;

Leave me…

                        ________

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.

Let’s see for means.  O mischief thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

I do remember an apothecary…

                        ___________

‘An if a man did need poison now,

Whose sale is present death in Mantua,

Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him’.[23]

            Shakespeare ensures it is clear this is no run-of-the-mill, ordinary heartbreak. Romeo’s resolved; his desperation all-consuming.  When he thereafter sees ‘dead’ Juliet he has no other option but to kill himself.  His heart aches, not just because it is broken but the severity of the break makes it worse: it’s broken into a million, razor-edged shards that painfully pierce everything in him and his world.  It’s the all-encompassing pain that sparks the desperation.  His mind is completely destroyed.  His brain sees no option but death.  There is zero reason to go on living if he can’t live it with his Juliet.  Come, bitter conduct, come.  And, thus, he swallows poison and dies. Juliet, after waking and seeing her husband dead, now enveloped in the same painful blackness, follows suit by stabbing herself.

The two desperate, heartbroken suicides saw zero chance the unendurable pain would ever relent. A shattered heart = unrelenting black pain = no conceivable end to the suffocating hurt = desperation = suicide.  Shakespeare brings home to the audience the emotion of it all and unleashes sympathy for his characters.  It might not be unreasonable to suggest his goal would have been to have the audience agree with the decision of Romeo and Juliet to kill themselves – the Passions of Juliet and her Romeo – by evoking sympathy and empathy.  Not unlike how Digges structured his referential words in his Folio elegy.

Shakespeare introduces no ulterior motive, no criminality, no disease of the mind, no escaping accountability, no guilt-ridden shame, nothing to suggest the suicides do not naturally flow given the seriousness of the heartbreak pain. He doesn’t cast them as criminals. There are no overt religious statements and very little dialogue going into suicide laws or how bodies of suicides are treated or buried; Shakespeare stays focused, and rightly so, on the shattered hearts. Who was it that said Shakespeare had the largest and most comprehensive soul…when he describes any thing, you more than see it, you feel it too?  Right, John Dryden in 1668.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Hearts smashed into a thousand pieces can produce all-encompassing black pain and suicide can naturally flow from such desperation.  A heartbroken-induced suicide is not an ‘evil death’ that is instigated by the devil.  It just is; a natural consequence flowing from an irreparable busted heart where the black hurt overpowers all other senses and emotions. Given the amount of sympathetic empathy Shakespeare ensures the audience feels for his two lovers it is probably fair to assume Shakespeare viewed their suicides as expected and understandable; worthy of understanding, not criminal sanctions nor proclamations by the church their corpses were polluted.

The Two Noble Kinsmen c. 1614

            Shakespeare collaborated with John Fletcher – or vice versa – to write The Two Noble Kinsmen.  No scholarly consensus has decided exactly what parts can be attributable to each – though, there are reasoned conjectures.  Those conjectures have Shakespeare writing Acts 1 and 5 and a few scenes scattered throughout Acts 2, 3 and 4; the rest, mostly, is reasonably attributed to Fletcher; some parts, unknown. There are no suicides in The Two Noble Kinsmen and very little on the subject save for a few short passages regarding the burial of suicides and a few delusion-induced musings on suicide.

Invention or Historical

            On balance, the main plot of Kinsmen is borrowed from Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale; Chaucer in turn had borrowed from previous authors whose work can be traced back to Greek antiquity.[24]  The short mention of how corpses of suicides are buried is Shakespeare’s invention.

The Burial Backstory

            Three widows from Thebes, identified as three queens, are beset with grief because Creon, King of Thebes, refuses to grant the widows’ husbands proper burial.  The three dead husbands are left out in the open to endure the beaks of ravens, talons of the kites, and pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes.[25]  The widows entreat Theseus, Duke of Athens, to attack Thebes and give us the bones of our dead kings that we may chapel them.[26] The queens prompt Theseus to think what leaving a corpse on an open field means:

                        1 Queen                       …Think, dear Duke, think

                        What beds our slain kings have!

                        2 Queen                                   What griefs our beds *have*

                        That our dear lords have none!

3 Queen                                   None fit for th’ dead.

                        Those that have with cords, knives, drams’ precipitance,

                        Weary of this world’s light, have to themselves

                        Been death’s most horrid agents, human grace

                        Affords them dust and shadow – [27]

            The queens state their deads being left on an open field have no bed; they have no bed fit for the dead.  Queen 3 takes it one step further when she explains suicides – those that have killed themselves by cords, knives and drams of poison – that have tired of this world’s light, even those, are buried in a grave affording them dust and shadow.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Shakespeare’s sources, per Potter, mention that Creon, King of Thebes, was refusing proper burial rites for some deads, so that is not Shakespeare’s invention.  However, the addition of the suicide commentary is his – adding the suicide burial comparative.  Shakespeare is just stating fact: suicides were, in fact, buried in the ground providing the corpses with dust and shadow.  Shakespeare might have wanted a quick, easy way to show how evil and depraved it was of Creon to prevent a regular corpse from being buried when suicides – criminals and sinners against God – were even given burials, profane as they might be.  Even ‘bad’ suicides were buried – albeit sometimes with a stake through their heart at the crossroads outside of town. ‘Good’ suicides were also buried and if their family had persuasive advocacy skills – and maybe a few chinks to spare – a partial Christian burial could be had on church property. 

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Not much can be gleaned from such a short reference. Maybe Shakespeare was just reaffirming to himself – in 1614 – the corpses of suicides still get a burial – even if a partial burial – and are not left to the ravens and crows.

The Backstory On Delusion-Induced Suicidal References

The sub-plot of the Jailer’s Daughter, Palamon and the Wooer is incidental to Kinsmen’s main plot; but it does take up much of the play. 

In brief, the delusion-induced suicide references start from this: Palamon is in jail, the Jailer’s Daughter sees him, falls in love with him, forthwith resolves to free him and then does so.  But Palamon, because he doesn’t have reciprocal feelings for the Jailer’s Daughter, fails to meet her at the place she appointed for their rendez-vous. Immediately, like within a line or two, the Jailer’s Daughter starts her descent into delusion, concluding Palamon has been eaten by wolves; yes, she concludes, that’s the reason he didn’t show up to meet her.  And without Palamon she no longer wants to live; rather, she hopes for a natural death where her life just dissolves away, before she loses her senses and takes her own life.

            Jailer’s Daughter

Dissolve my life! Let not my sense unsettle,

            Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself.

                                    __________

                                                              So, which way now?

                        The best way is the next *nearest* way to a grave[28]

            Her altered state takes deeper root.  She is now convinced Palamon is in heaven and she starts hallucinating: while looking out over the real, forested landscape she sees nothing but an imagined vast sea, replete with dangerous rocks under the surface ready to wreck the ship that is sailing straight for them; alas, the imagined ship sails straight into the imagined rocks and springs an imagined leak.  Yelling to the imaginary ship’s crew she implores them to switch course and tack about, boys!  Alas, too late, the ship has sunk.  Next, she wishes she could find a fine frog; he would tell me news from all parts o’ th’ world.[29]

            Later, the Wooer – the Jailer’s Daughter’s suitor – sees her by the shore of the lake behind the palace where he was fishing.  Staying hidden behind the rushes and reeds, listening, the hidden Wooer hears nonsensical song from her as she laments the loss of Palamon – not in heaven, but he’s now only gone to the woods to gather mulberries.   The Jailer’s Daughter is sure I’ll find him out tomorrow. As the Wooer moved in closer his cover was blown:

                        Wooer                                                  I made in to her.

                        She saw me, and straight sought the flood; I saved her,

                        And set her safe to land, when presently

                        She slipped away and the city made,

                        With a such a cry and swiftness that, believe me,

                        She left me far behind her.[30] 

            Upon seeing the Wooer coming towards her Jailer’s Daughter jumped into the lake but the quick-thinking Wooer, valiant as he is, jumped in and saved her.  It is not clear when she straight sought the flood is be equated with a suicide attempt or she was just jumping into the lake, trying to get away, when she was discovered – and likely startled – as she sat at the lake’s edge, oblivious to reality, singing nonsensical songs about, mainly, Palamon.

            She’s clearly not herself – but it’s a different kind of alteration.  It’s not dark madness, see Lady Macbeth.  The Jailer’s Daughter new alter-ego is happily singing away, la-la, la-la, nonny, nonny, nonny lamenting her situation; she pines for her unrequited love but it’s not an agonizing pining for a reciprocal lover, see Juliet.  It doesn’t seem like her jump into the lake is a suicide attempt.  Her father, the Jailer, states

She is continually in a harmless distemper; sleeps

little; altogether without appetite, save often drinking;

Dreaming of another world and a better;[31]

Nothing ever stems from her harmless distemper and later she even seems to know that

If one be mad, or

hang or drown themselves, there they go – Jupiter

bless us! – and there shall we be put in a cauldron of

lead and userers’ grease, amongst a whole million of

cutpurses, and there boil like a gammon of bacon that

Will never be enough.[32]

            Thereafter, the Doctor comes up with an ingenious cure: dress the Wooer up like Palamon and sleep with her.  It works.  At the Jailer’s Daughter’s request the Wooer, dressed like Palamon, agrees they shall kiss a hundred times and then agrees to twenty more.  And then we’ll sleep together.[33] The Wooer agrees.  All’s well that ends well.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            There’s not much to see.  The lake scene, the possible attempted suicide – where the Jailer’s Daughter jumps into the flood and the Wooer saves her – probably wasn’t written by Shakespeare.  The construction is straight-forward, there is no noun-verb disagreement and it’s not complicated to understand.  It could be, but it doesn’t sound Shakespearean.  Act 5 scene 1, the Doctor scene, where somebody comes up with the nifty cure for delusions – kisses and sex – is definitely Shakespeare. 

Shakespeare’s Statement on Suicide

            Hard to say.  But probably ‘very little’ wouldn’t be a bad start.  

King John, c. 1596

            Unlike Kinsmen, King John offers a great window into how Shakespeare wrote characters that spoke about suicide, how those characters viewed suicide and how other characters viewed those that talked about contemplating suicide; and, unlike Kinsmen, there is one suicide – off-stage.         

Invention or Historical

            King John is a historical person; Shakespeare used historical, and likely literary, sources when he wrote his King John; the suicide and its preceding dialogue are Shakespeare’s invention.  There is a second passage about suicide involving different characters where Shakespeare has one character suggest to another character that if they wanted to kill themselves, it likely wouldn’t take much.  Not much can be gleaned from that particular passage but it is referenced should it garner any interest.[34]

Number Of Suicides – 1

            Constance – mother of Arthur.

The Backstory

            King John (1166-1216) was on the throne of England but not unopposed – at home and abroad.  A claimant for the throne was his young nephew, Arthur; Constance, Arthur’s mother, pressed Arthur’s right to the crown and sought allies to further Arthur’s claim.  Constance was the main mover and shaker behind the scenes and it was she that sought her son’s claim to be England’s king.  One such ally Constance was hoping to sway, and help Arthur unseat King John, was the King of France, Philip.  France agreed to become allied with Constance and thus go to war with England in an attempt to install Arthur on the British throne.  Constance was happy.

However, as it turned out, that alliance was short-lived – along with Constance’s happiness – when England and France decided to hold hands in peace.  However, the hand-holding peace was even shorter-lived when the papal legate, Cardinal Pandulph – the meddling priest – a type of priest not unfamiliar to King John’s father, Henry II – pretty much scuttled the peace and in short order the two countries were at war, which pleased Constance.  Arthur thereafter gets captured and was held hostage by the English.  Constance is enraged, beyond angry, when she hears her son is held captive.  She goes off on her erstwhile ally, Philip, in a bit of a rant – wild hair wilding about – but seems to do so in a sort of controlled rage, measured by reason.

[Enter Constance.]

King Philip

Look, who comes here! A grave unto a soul;
Holding th’ eternal spirit, against her will,
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
I prithee, lady, go away with me.

Constance

Lo, now! I now see the issue of your peace!

King Philip

Patience, good lady! Comfort, gentle Constance!

Constance

No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress
Death, death; O amiable lovely death!
Thou odouriferous stench! sound rottenness!
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones,
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself.
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st,
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love,
O, come to me![35]

Shakespeare has Constance rebuff King Philip’s overtures for patience and comfort; because Arthur has been captured she wants nothing but death, death, amiable lovely death. She beckons death from its couch of lasting night, wants to kiss death’s detestable bones and stop her mouth with dust from her burial.  Death, come, grin on me.

King Philip

O fair affliction, peace!

Constance

No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth!
Then with a passion would I shake the world,
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.

Cardinal Pandulph

Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.

Constance

Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad – I would to heaven I were!
For then ‘tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canoniz’d, Cardinal;
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver’d of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.[36]

            Now unquestionably in a rant, Constance disagrees with the Cardinal when he says she has descended into madness, not sorrow: she’s not mad, she knows who she is, who her son is and that he is lost.  Even though earlier in the play Constance does admit to being sick – melancholic? – she wishes she was mad then she could forget herself and her griefs.  Because she is not mad she, in fact, feels grief and her reason – her reasonable mind – suggests how she may be rid of her woes: by proposing that she kill or hang herself.  She postulates if she were mad she would be able to forget about her son but she is not mad and she feels her calamity all too sharply.  To boot, Constance was having a bad hair day.

King Philip

Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs!
                  _________

King Philip

Bind up your hairs.

Constance

Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
‘O that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!’
But now I envy at their liberty!’
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
And, father Cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven;
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague’s fit;
And so he’ll die; and, rising so again,           

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Cardinal Pandulph

You hold too heinous a respect of grief.

Constance

He talks to me that never had a son.

King Philip

You are as fond of grief as of your child.

Constance

Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Fare you well; had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
I will not keep this form upon my head, [Tearing her hair.]
When there is such disorder in my wit.
O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world!
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows’ cure!          [Exit.]

King Philip

I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.[37]            [Exit.]

Constance turns her speech from defending herself from allegations of madness to giving details how Arthur’s imprisonment affected her: she wishes she could provide for her son’s liberty as she has provided liberty to the hairs she has pulled loose from her hair bun.  Even though Arthur is only imprisoned Constance predicts only seeing him again in heaven, not alive.  Her last passage is a brilliant speech as to what it actually feels like to be denied a child’s presence and the only cure for such intense sorrow is, in fact, the child’s presence.  King Philip, fearing Constance was going to kill herself, follows her. She eventually does, off-stage; a messenger brings the news to King John who was actually asking the messenger about the whereabouts of his mother, Queen Mother Eleanor.

Messenger

My liege, her ear

Is stopp’d with dust: the first of April died
Your noble mother; and, as I hear, my lord,
The Lady Constance in a frenzy died
Three days before; but this from rumour’s tongue
I idly heard –  if true or false I know not.[38]

            According to the messenger as heard from rumour’s tongue, Lady Constance in a frenzy died, i.e., committed suicide.  Important to note is that Arthur’s death was reported to others before Constance’s off-stage suicide; at the time of Constance’s suicide Arthur was not dead yet, only reported to others to be deceased.  Because her off-stage suicide happens in quick succession after reports to others of Arthur’s death surface it is unknown whether Constance knew of these rumoured reports.  There are other textual clues pointing to the fact Constance probably committed suicide before reports of her son’s death circulated notwithstanding Shakespeare was famous for playing with time signatures and compressing events.  If Constance killed herself only due to the fact Arthur was in prison and she would possibly never see him again – this is the most likely scenario – there’s no telling what she would have done if she heard of his reported death or his actual death, which happens as well, later on.

Motive

            Grief.  Motherly grief.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            For a play that has no on-stage suicides King John offers a great look into Shakespeare’s mind and how he viewed various aspects of suicide.

Upon the loss of her son to being held captive, Shakespeare gives Constance uncontrollable grief – an understandable result.  Her grief is almost-all-consuming; almost, because she retains her reason, her ability to reason things through and retain critical thinking: her grief hasn’t diminished her ability to reason nor control it. It is her reason that puts forth how she may be delivered from her woes and it is reason, not madness, that might teach her to kill or hang herself.  Some might take a different view, such as King Philip and Cardinal Pandulph – both of whom chock her suicidal statements up to madness.  Thinking clearly and clearly explaining her answer Constance verbalizes how she still retains her reason even when she concludes suicide is her only way out.

And, her only way out is suicide; that, Shakespeare makes clear and makes it a foregone conclusion.  Constance reminds the Cardinal she has heard him say that we shall see and know our friends in heaven: if that be true, I shall see my boy again. Constance means in heaven, after both are dead; not after – if – Arthur is released from prison.  With her suicide all but decided, she concludes, therefore never, never must I behold my pretty Arthur more. I.e., never again will I see him in this life, alive. Her suicide was pretty much a fait accompli given her outpouring of grief at knowing her son was in prison and possibly never to see him again.  Her next passage suggests she is prepared to see him next in heaven, presaging her suicide; notthat he’s going to die first and she will follow.

King Philip and the Cardinal still hold to their view she has gone mad but, again, Constance recounts in clear, reasoned language why her absent child fills her with such reasoned grief.  Shakespeare has Constance declare Arthur was all her world, her widow-comfort and her sorrow’s cure.

When Shakespeare explains via Constance what it feels like to lose a child – even in a hostage situation – the lines seem as if Shakespeare was speaking from first-hand experience.  What does losing a child – being in prison or dead, never to be seen again – mean to Shakespeare? Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts, stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. It’s probably not a stretch to postulate those words were writ by someone that knew about such things, based on personal experience and not entirely due to literary creation.  Something about those lines bespeaks first-hand knowledge. After her reasoned-grief treatise, Constance exits.  Never to be heard of or seen again.  She was good to her word and, according to a messenger, died off-stage.  Suicide.

 Shakespeare’s son, Hamnet and his twin sister, Judith, were born in January 1585.  Hamnet died 11 years later, in 1596.  No conjecture is needed – Shakespeare would have been shattered by his son’s death.  Shakespeare’s first, and only, male child – to him that did but yesterday suspire *breathe*, there was not such a gracious creature born – was his everything, my all the world.

Scholars do not agree when King John was written; some postulate as early as 1587, some as late as 1598.  Shakespearean scholar Wells dates it 1596.[39] The Project finds this assertion correct and based on its own reasoning also puts King John in the 1596-1598 time frame. Is 1596-98 the definite composition date?  No, just a reasoned observation.

If Shakespeare wrote King John after Hamnet died in 1596, that would certainly explain a few things: 1) Shakespeare equating the first born male child to the most gracious born, 2) his explanation of what the grief feels like to be missing a child seems deeply personal and Constance’s lines are almost more indicative of a dead child as opposed to one that is just being held captive and 3) the uncontrollable grief is not due to madness, but reason.  Developing this further, perhaps Constance’s lines can help scholars date King John more accurately.  And, going one step further, if the passages are read in such a fashion where the child is dead and the thoughts are spoken by a parent still living, then, as a whole, they make more sense: that we shall see and know our friends in heaven: if that be true, I shall see my boy again.  Might this be Shakespeare trying to convince himself he will see Hamnet again?  Maybe.

If King John was written post-Hamnet’s death might Shakespeare have descended into inconsolable depths of grief?  Maybe.  Might he have sunk into such a deep depression, contemplating suicide, that those around him – Anne, or his London colleagues – told Shakespeare he was talking madness?  Maybe.  Might Shakespeare have replied he is not mad and retains his full reason?  Maybe.  Might he have said to himself that through his written words, he’ll show them, he’ll prove he’s not mad?  Maybe.

If the dating of 1596-98 is correct, by listening to Constance can it be said for certain Shakespeare ever thought about suicide after Hamnet’s death?  No.  If he had in fact thought about suicide would he have equated those feelings with clear-headed reason and not madness?  Yes, probably.  Luckily for Shakespeare, his family, the King’s Men and modernity he stayed his hand if suicide was on his mind.  Perhaps Shakespeare knowing what it felt like to bury a child imported his feelings of grief to Constance in her similar, but not identical, circumstances.  It sort of fits.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Shakespeare views uncontrollable grief as a powerful emotion, which sets off other powerful emotions, such as contemplating suicide.  What many see as madness –contemplating suicide – Shakespeare rejects that interpretation and very clearly explains a person contemplating suicide can very well retain all their reason and it is their reason that leads them to their grief’s cure, eventual suicide.  Lady Macbeth, void of reason, went mad due to guilt and killed herself.  Constance killed herself due to grief while retaining reason.

Other than supposition and various pieces of external evidence, nothing proves King John was written after Hamnet’s death.  Be that as it may, King John still provides a great view into Shakespeare’s mind and what it meant to lose a child – even one being held captive – and  how that can lead to taking one’s own life.  If King John was written after Hamnet’s death the curtains to Shakespeare’s mind were blown wide open.

Timon of Athens, c. 1604

            Timon has a long history – over 2000 years worth by the time Shakespeare takes his shot writing about him. Timon, the historical person, lived around 430 BC in Athens. Timon’s two main characteristics, according to previous authors, coincide with two main stages of his life: unabated generosity to false friends early on in life and unabated curmudgeonous later in life when he found himself penniless and became a first rate misanthrope – a hater of humanity, disliker of people and recluse.

Invention or Historical

            Shakespeare’s sources possibly start with Greek playwright, Sophocles (c.495 – c.405 BC), and possibly Plato Comicus – not the Plato modernity is familiar with – and Aristophenes (c.445 – c.385 BC); Shakespeare probably took ideas and snippets from Plutarch (c.45 – c.120 AD) and by the time Lucian of Samosata (c.125 – c.180 AD) wrote Timon the Misanthrope, Timon’s literary life – some parts historical, some legend – was pretty much writ.  It is Timon that commits suicide – off-stage – and whether his death historically is classified as a suicide is open to debate; however, Shakespeare makes clear in his version Timon’s death is definitely suicide – a Shakespearean invention.

            Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens is a collaboration with Thomas Middleton; scholars agrees on that.  What can’t be agreed on is how that collaboration was birthed: was it Shakespeare’s play, in the main, and Middleton added to it; vice versa; or a true co-authorship? Was it one or the others first with a revision by the other at a later date?  Debate continues.  It might not be unreasonable to state the dialogue from Timon pre-suicide is Shakespeare’s, and Shakespeare alone; reasons for this are put forth below.

Number Of Suicides – 1

            Timon.

The Backstory

            Timon, a Gentleman member of minor nobility, lived in 5th century BC Athens.  He is wealthy and very generous; such attributes tend to attract many false friends – Timon’s experience is no different, false friends abound.  Timon is careless with his money and spends it like a drunken sailor on false friends – even in the face of numerous warnings from his true friend and steward, Flavius.  In due course, Timon is flat broke. Not only has Timon depleted his entire liquid wealth but all his lands must be sold to cover his debts.  He is left with nothing and is impoverished.  Timon sends his true steward, Flavius, to implore those so-called friends – the ones he previously lavished with money and gifts – to bail him out.  They are not moved, refuse financial assistance and turn their backs on him.  Consequently, Timon – deserted and destitute – turns his back on humanity and goes to live in a cave in the forested wilderness subsisting off roots and the like.  He wants nothing to do with civilization and instructs himself therefore be abhorred all feasts, societies, and throngs of men![40]

            Shortly thereafter while digging for his rooted-lunch Timon discovers buried gold.  But, as becomes clear, Timon wants nothing to do with his prior lavish lifestyle because he now sees gold – money – as evil; evility, being gold’s true nature. Thus, he resolves to use his found gold for good – what he perceives as ‘good’: discord and conflict among men.  By and by, previously introduced characters happen upon Timon – either by happenstance or when searching for him.  At first, some don’t recognize Timon such is his disheveled, wretched, grimy, beastly appearance.  They ask who he is:

Timon    I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.

For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,

That I might love thee something.

Alcibiades                                I know thee well,

But in thy fortunes am unlearn’d and strange.

Timon    I know thee too; and more than that I know thee

I not desire to know.[41] 

Thereafter, Timon’s hatred for humanity becomes fully embedded as he says,

I am sick of this false world, and will love nought

But even the mere necessities upon’t.

Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;

Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat

Thy gravestone daily.[42] 

To various characters, one by one, Timon gives them gold and bids them to use it to further the destruction of base mankind; but to Flavius, Timon’s singly honest steward, Timon gives him gold to live rich and happy on the condition Flavius from this point forward hate all, curse all, show charity to none, but let the famished flesh slide from the bone ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs what thou deniest to men.[43]  Later, Flavius returns with two Athenian senators who are sent to entreat Timon to return to the city; but all is for nought, Timon sends them away; his life, beyond reclamation; his death, imminent.   Indeed, when Timon enters his cavely-abode for the last time that is the last the audience sees or hears from him.  He is dead – but not before composing his own epitaph.

Method

            Although Timon’s suicide isn’t on-stage, it’s definitely implied: he’s gone and there is a grave-marker, an epitaph.  Being dead, he couldn’t have buried himself so that rules out anything he would have done to himself externally: poison, hanging, a dagger.  The likeliest conclusion is thus: like a mortally wounded animal that realizes it is about to die and is ready to give up – such was Timon, for he was mortally wounded, wounded of the will to live – it crawls into a cave, a hole and dies itself to death; curled up in the corner, quietly, as each organ slowly shuts down until the will to live, the spirit, completely gives up and slowly breathes its last.  Thus it might have gone for Timon – crawling into his beach/shoreline cave, breathing his last.

Motive

            Done with life, plain and simple.  Timon sees no redeeming quality in humanity and wants to take no part in society, and in his words, he is sick of this false world.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

If Shakespeare has other characters in earlier plays question life, death and suicide and makes them equivocate and wonder if suicide is a viable option against the harshness of life, Shakespeare makes no such equivocation in Timon’s reasoning. For Shakespeare, faced with circumstances such as Timon’s suicide is definitely a viable option.

Timon’s view of life – similar, but different and harsher than other Shakespearean character’s views – has him seeing life as having no redeeming qualities, equates health and living to a sickness and the only cure for the living-sickness is death.  When conversing with Flavius and the senators he is composing his epitaph; Timon explains:

       Why, I was writing of my epitaph;

It will be seen to-morrow.  My long sickness

Of health and living now begins to mend,

And nothing *death* brings me all things.[44]

Shakespeare has death – not life – bring Timon everything he needs.  Life – the way he lived it, though he lived it foolishly and unwisely at first – brought Timon to his knees.  To a large extent, probably the main reason, why Timon takes such a jaded view of life is the intersection of wealth and humanity’s true nature.  Coupled together, and when acting in concert, Shakespeare sees the over-whelming evil in both: gold, the corrupter of men; men, the willing accepter.

            This yellow slave

            Will knit and break religions, bless th’ accurs’d,

            Make the hoar leprosy ador’d, place thieves

            And give them title, knee and approbation

With senators on the bench.                  

                        ___________

    Come, damn’d earth,

                        Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds

                        Among the rout of nations, I will make thee

                        Do thy right nature. [45]

Right nature.  The true nature of gold – money – Shakespeare equates with putting conflict between nations, is the whore of humanity, makes thieves equal to senators and breaks religions.  That, is the true nature of money according to Shakespeare.  Someplace, somewhere, someone mentioned ‘the love of money is the root of all evil.’  Shakespeare agrees and has Timon say as much:

            O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

            ‘Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler

            Of Hymen’s purest bed! thou valiant Mars!

                                    ___________

                                    that speak’st with every tongue

            To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!

            Think thy slave man rebels, and by the virtue

            Set them into confounding odds, that beasts

            May have the world in empire![46]

Shakespeare sees money – gold that speaks in every tongue – use its inherent nature to induce such conflict – confounding odds – that after all is said and done beasts will rule the world.  Not a good look for the value of money, according to Shakespeare. 

True, Timon found himself impecunious due to his own foolhardiness, but when his gold had run out, none of his so-called friends felt it necessary to be friends anymore and didn’t help him in his time of need.  This is crushing to one’s psyche; Shakespeare makes that clear.  Having everybody turn their back on you can completely demoralize a person, make that person shun society, become a recluse and want nothing to do with humanity.  Shakespeare has Timon take it to an extreme – so jaded is Timon with civilization that he has lost his desire to be a part of the group – and he taps out.  Gold was the instigator but Shakespeare makes it clear gold isn’t the only villain: it’s the true nature of flatterers, false friends, that gives gold its power.  It might not be a stretch to think Shakespeare – when comparing what is worse, false friends or gold – thought false friends to be the worser. When Timon’s true friend, Flavius, first sees Timon’s decrepit appearance he laments:

            What viler thing upon the earth than friends

            Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends![47]

Nearing the end, just before Timon disappears into his cave for good, Shakespeare has Timon explain to the two senators how life’s uncertainty weighs on the minds of men.

            Timon:              Commend me to them,

            And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,

            Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,

            Their pangs of love, with other incident throes

            That nature’s fragile vessel doth sustain

            In life’s uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them…[48]

This language, showing Shakespeare’s hand, is similar to a few things Hamlet was thinking about; but some other time for him. What kindness does Timon want to do to those who need to ease their griefs brought on by life? 

Timon: I have a tree, which grows here in my close,

That mine own use invites me to cut down,

And shortly must I fell it.  Tell my friends,

Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree

From high to low throughout, that whoso please

To stop affliction, let him take his haste,

Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,

And hang himself.[49]

Timon will ease their griefs by offering them a tree to hang themselves. Flavius turns to the two senators and bids them not to trouble Timon any further: thus you still shall find himI.e., Timon is beyond hope, it’s all but over. And it will be, soon after Timon speaks his final words:

Come not to me again; but say to Athens

Timon hath made his everlasting mansion

Upon the beached verge of the salt flood,

Who once a day with his embossed froth

The turbulent surge shall cover.  Thither come,

And let my gravestone be your oracle.

Lips, let sour words go by and language end:

What is amiss, plague and infection mend!

Graves only be men’s works and death their gain!

Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign.[50]

[Exit Timon into his cave.]

And that’s that; he is never seen again.  However, the audience does get a few more lines from Timon in the form of his self-composed epitaph:

            ‘Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft;

            Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left!

            Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate.

            Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass and stay not here thy gait.[51]

It’s clear even in death Timon still hates all men, much, and sees man as nothing but beasts.

One by one, Shakespeare seems to be ticking off the boxes where death is preferable to life.  Shakespeare has Romeo and Juliet – both heartbroken for love – prefer death to living life without each other; death was better.  Constance didn’t want to live life without her son, death was better.  Timon, brought to his knees by gold and flatterers, wants nothing to do with, nor live among, false humanity; wanting to be relieved of the sickness of health and living, death was better.  All – heartbroken for love, motherly grief, false humanity – cured by suicide.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

He certainly makes a powerful statement on the vileness of gold and the false nature of society and when combined there is no baser-tandem working, and feeding, off each other’s worst characteristic.  In concert, if the worst characteristics of money and humanity – money’s ability to corrupt and humanity’s proclivity for falseness – team up against someone to such an extent they feel betrayed that betrayal can deprive them of their desire, indeed their will, to live.  Death will be better.  Suicide is the cure. And under these circumstances a suicide is justified.  Though Shakespeare has a few characters try to talk Timon out of suicide, after committing Timon to it, he doesn’t denounce it or refer to it as a crime.  Not only that, a few lines before closing out the play, Shakespeare reveals how he truly sees Timon: Dead, is noble Timon.[52]

A Midsummer Night’s Dream, c. 1595

            Shakespeare’s Dream is not usually associated with suicide, and in the main it’s not, though it contains two.  Universally loved, Shakespeare’s Dream has dukes, queens, lovers, fairies, magic love potions, weddings, a play-within-a-play, a happy ending and many interweaving plots.  Only one such plot concerns the investigation and comments will be confined to such: the suicides of Pyramus and Thisby. 

Invention or Historical

            Invention – by Ovid, Roman poet, born one year after Julius Caesar’s 44 BC assassination.  The story of Pyramus and Thisby – two lovers forbidden to love and thus forbidden to marry – was writ by Ovid as part of his Metamorphoses, Book IV, around 8 AD.

Number Of Suicides – 2

            Pyramus – falls on his sword.

            Thisby – kills herself with the same sword.

The Backstory

            The action of Pyramus and Thisby is only one sub-plot in Dream.  Put simply, hopefully not confusingly, the backstory with the interweaving plots goes something like this:

-Duke Theseus is going to marry Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons;

-Hermia is in love with Lysander;

-Lysander is in love with Hermia;

-Hermia and Lysander are forbidden to marry;

the course of true love never did run smooth;[53]

-Demetrius is in love with Hermia;

-Helena is in love with Demetrius;

-his course of true love never did run smooth either;

-much nonsense occurs with fairies, magic love potions, lovers get confused, more nonsense, humans get transformed into half-donkeys, more nonsense;

-six characters – Quince, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Snug and Starveling – decide to put on a play for a bit of entertainment at the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta;

-the play to be staged for the wedding entertainment is The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby;

-Pyramus, forbidden to wed Thisby, and the like for her, agree to secretly meet in the forest under a mulberry tree;

-not the same mulberry tree Shakespeare is thought to have planted at his new house on Chapel Street, but back to Pyramus and Thisby;

-Thisby arrives at the agreed upon location first and rather unluckily encounters a lion, its face smeared with blood from a hunt; Thisby’s cloak falls off when the lion snatches at it as she runs away;

-Pyramus then shows up, sees Thisby’s cloak and drops of blood thereon from said lion’s attempt to snatch it;

-Pyramus, thinking Thisby dead and carried away by the lion, commits suicide by running on his sword;

-by and by, Thisby returns and sees dead Pyramus;

-not to be outdone, she kills herself using Pyramus’s sword;

-and that was the play acted by Quince and his troupe as the Duke’s wedding entertainment.

            So, when Shakespeare weaves Pyramus and Thisby into Dream it is by way of a play-within-a-play. 

Motive

            Heartbroken, a la, Romeo and Juliet; though, Pyramus and Thisby was writ over 1500 years prior to Romeo and Juliet.  Therefore, more correct, would be to say Romeo and Juliet killed themselves a la Pyramus and Thisby. Either or, their deaths via suicide are caused by hearts blasted into shards and not wanting to live without their other.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Not a great deal can be taken from the suicides of Pyramus and Thisby; they are historical literary suicides and Shakespeare is following his literary history.

One small item of interest is the way Shakespeare used the word ‘passion’ prior to Thisby’s suicide.  He gives it two different meanings when he has two different characters ascribe it different meanings: Duke Theseus equates ‘passion’ with suicide; Hippolyta does not.  The scene goes like this: Pyramus has just killed himself and Thisby re-enters the stage and sees her beloved Pyramus lying dead. Duke Theseus starts the dialogue off.

Theseus            She will find him by starlight.  Here

she comes; and her passion ends the play.

Hippolyta         Methinks she should not use a long

one for such a Pyramus; I hope she will be brief.[54]

Theseus is correct, Thisby’s ‘passion,’ her suicide, does in fact end the play.  Hippolyta hopes Thisby’s ‘passion’, her emotional ending speech, will be brief. For her part, Thisby has this to say before her suicide ends the play:

            Thisby             Come, trusty sword;

                                    Come, blade, my breast imbrue [Stabs herself]

                                    And farewell, friends;

                                    Adieu, adieu, adieu.[55]    [Dies]

And thus ends the play-within-a-play by way of Passion. Remember Digges and his Passions of Juliet, and her Romeo?

            Also of slight interest is the dating of Dream – 1595 or 1596; the same time-frame as Romeo and Juliet’s composition.  Pyramus and Thisby and Romeo and Juliet are pairs of love-sick lovers, whose love was forbidden, their deaths were mistaken by the other and, not wanting to live life without the other, killed themselves – all four of them. If both Romeo and Dream were written in close proximity, months perhaps, it’s probably safe to say the topic of suicide was forefront on Shakespeare’s mind.

Shakespeare’s one play – Romeo – climaxes with two painful, heart-shattering suicides; the other one, Dream, weaves in two suicides by way of a sub-plot.  That’s four suicides, in two plays, in possibly the span of a year or so. It would be hard to say Shakespeare wasn’t dwelling – to some extent – on suicide.  What can’t be conjectured accurately is whether his writing of broken-heart suicides for his professional work can in any way be equated with any lived personal experience with a broken heart. Or, put the other way around, did Shakespeare’s personal life influence what he decided to write? Did his mood concurrently influence what he chose to write about?  Maybe.  However, what is clear, Shakespeare sees a broken-heart suicide as courageous, chivalrous.

            The other reference to suicide – Damned spirits all, that in cross-ways and floods have burial[56] – is a reference to how suicides were buried in 17th century England; nothing turns on it.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Bottom: What is Pyramus? A lover or a tyrant?

            Quince: A lover that kills himself, most gallant, for love.[57]

King Lear c. 1605

            Has different kinds of death, coming by way of suicide, murder and old age. The investigation will stay focussed on the attempted suicide and the successful one.

Invention or Historical

            Shakespeare’s King Lear is based on the persona of a King Leir.  King Leir is a legendary, less-historical, maybe a touch real, mostly made-up king that is alleged to have ruled in Britain around the 8th century BC.  Leir comes to Shakespeare, mainly, viaRaphael Holinshed’s 1587 The Chronicles of England, Scotlande, and Irelande. Holinshed got his Leir information from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s The History of the Kings of Britain writ in the 12th century.  Geoffrey in his History documents Leir was victorious over a tribe of giants; the magician Merlin and King Arthur also get their genesis from Geoffrey.  So, yes, Geoffrey’s 12th century History wasn’t completely accurate.  Shakespeare probably used other minor sources for his Lear but his main source was Holinshed. The attempted suicide and the successful one in Shakespeare’s Lear are his inventions.

Number Of Suicides – 1

            Goneril – King Lear’s eldest daughter.

            Gloucester – attempted suicide.

Goneril’s Suicide – The Backstory

            From the start – after only a few lines in – things go off the rails.  Shakespeare has his aging King Lear decide it’s time to hand over the reigns of his kingdom to his three daughters: Goneril, Regan and Cordelia.  Lear’s original intention was to divide his kingdom in three equal parts – a third for each daughter.  The catch is they have to sufficiently profess their gushing love for him; he will divide his kingdom proportionally – ideally, in thirds – equal to the amount of professed love the three daughters individually heap on him.  Goneril holds up her end of the bargain when she says, Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter; dearer than eyesight and as much as child e’ver love or father found.[58]  Regan, likewise, professes her boundless love for her father. Cordelia, the youngest, is another matter and when Lear asks her what she has to say, she replies, Nothing my lord. 

                        Lear                 Nothing!

                        Cordelia           Nothing.

                        Lear                 Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.

                        Cordelia           Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave

                                                My heart into my mouth: I love your Majesty

                                                According to my bond; no more nor less.[59]

            Lear becomes enraged and banishes his honest and true advisor, Kent, after Kent tried to defend Cordelia and calm the King from making rash decisions. In short order, Lear’s kingdom originally divisible by three only gets halved – half each for Goneril and Regan. Cordelia, speaking from the heart and not flatteringly gets nothing, is banished and sent off to marry the King of France with no dowry, no part of the kingdom under her control.  Cordelia knows her sisters’ feigned flattery was based on greed and not love for their aging father; knowing her sisters’ devious intents, Cordelia presciently predicts over time the truth will come out: Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides, who covers faults, at last with shame derides.[60]  And thus the stage is set for the rest of the play: two false daughters initially beloved, one true daughter initially banished; but time will unfold all and many will get their just comeuppance.

From there things so sideways and in due course Shakespeare writes of betrayals, greed, double-crossings, murders, eyes get gouged out, insanity, madness, extra-marital affairs, inexplicable disappearances, an attempted suicide and a successful one.

After Lear sends Cordelia packing and bestows on Goneril and Regan each a half of his kingdom, the two sisters immediately start their scheming.  For her part, Goneril implements one ploy after another in order to reduce her father to nothing – mentally – and leave him with nothing, materially:

            -Goneril orders her servants to neglect Lear when he comes to visit her;

-she castigates, admonishes and shames her father, knowing if she bullies him hard enough his aging, fragile mind will be powerless to do anything about it, especially if evil-sister number two joins in;

-Goneril also verbally abuses and belittles her husband, Albany, when he implores her to go easy on her father and not to treat him so badly;

-Goneril informs her sister, Regan, she should treat Lear in like kind;

-in concert with Regan, Goneril slowly deprives Lear of his royal, knightly entourage; Lear had 100 knights following him in his retirement; by and by, Regan and Goneril reduce his knightly train to zero;

-spearheaded by Goneril, Lear is reduced to nothing, a shadow of his former kingly-self; a mad-fragment of his once great kingly-mind;

-Goneril succeeds in her plot to belittle and bully her father and terrorize and torment him into raging anger, insane madness and raggedly appearance;

-Goneril joins forces with Kent’s bad son, the self-serving Edmund – Goneril’s equal in depravity, double-crossing and evility – to defend her interests against Cordelia who has raised an army and landed in Britain in an attempt to win Lear’s kingdom back;

-it is Goneril’s idea to pluck another character’s eyes out;

-Goneril decides she would rather be with Edmund than her cowardly husband, Albany;

-Goneril, by way of a letter that gets intercepted, asks Edmund to kill her husband;

-suspecting her sister, Regan, has designs on Edmund as well, Goneril murders Regan with poison;

-shortly, Goneril’s husband, Albany, confronts Goneril on her lust for Edmund and her plot to have Albany killed;

-defiant, but knowing the jig is up, Goneril exits; the next thing the audience hears of her is that she killed herself, off-stage, with a knife;

-and that’s that.

In sum, Goneril has: schemed to get half her father’s kingdom, which she succeeds; attempts to reduce her father to pecuniary madness, which she succeeds; diplomatically persuades her sister, Regan, to turn against their father, which she succeeds; seeks to attain power over her husband, Albany, by abusing him, which she succeeds; suggests another character’s eyes be gouged out, which is carried out; plots to have her husband murdered and, in fact, murders her sister, Regan.   Quite a resume.

Goneril’s ultimate goal was to marry Edmund and enjoy the kingdom, fully, together. And all would have ended well for Goneril were it not for true Kent and honest Edgar – his good son – thwarting Goneril’s designs by informing Albany of the schemes being planned by his wife and Edmund. Albany, now seeing his treacherous wife for who and what she is, confronts his wife.  In the end, Goneril is outed, her ultimate designs discovered, her love for Edmund exposed, her murderous plot revealed, her life quit by her own hand.  In the end, she has attained zero save a disgraced suicide.  

Motive

There are probably a few motives at work: escaping public shame, escaping accountability on murder, escaping accountability in her marriage, escaping vilification for destroying her father, escaping accountability for her failed coup attempt and possibly escaping the fate of having to face her father after all her plots were exposed. 

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Considering there is so much going on in Lear, and on different levels, the investigative commentary surrounding Goneril’s suicide, surprisingly, can be disposed of relatively quickly; looking into Shakespeare’s mind need not take a great deal of time.

            From start to finish Shakespeare has Goneril outdo her wickedness with each successive scheme; culminating in her last, her murder of Regan.  By the end, she is the personification of evil writ large.  She has no redeeming qualities and as her husband, Albany, says she is not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face.[61] And this is before he finds out she put a murder contract out on his head. To Shakespeare, Goneril is Satan in the form of a woman; it’s Albany, again, to whom Shakespeare reserves the admonishment: See thyself, devil![62]

Not all suicides are created equal: compare Romeo and Juliet’s to Timon’s to Goneril’s. Her despicable behaviour – when it is laid out for all to see – almost cries out for a shameful suicide; banishment or an execution would be too lenient.  What would she do otherwise?  Live and face her still-living father?  Not likely; self-murder is called for. While it is true she gets to escape facing her father, having her kill herself drives home the fact even Goneril doesn’t escape the knowledge of her detestable deeds; burning coals have been heaped on her head, it’s too much for her. Goneril is a power-hungry, scheming, mean, bullying, tormenting, vile daughter and wife.  She undertakes, in modern parlance, elder abuse which she carries out at every turn.  Anything but her pathetic suicide would, Shakespeare decided, be too good for her. 

Can anything from the dialogue or the suicide itself be ascribed to Shakespeare personally, like suicide ideation or the like?  No.  The dialogue and the suicide was pure literary creation that had nothing to do with personal thoughts Shakespeare might have held on suicide; other than he personally sees a shameful suicide a fitting end for his she-devil.  Shakespeare makes Goneril’s suicide fit the character; her character fit the plot; the plot fit the play and that’s that.  Nothing more, nothing less. Her suicide is a complete case of pure literary creation, fitting the circumstances.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

A just death for an unjust life – void of any of the pity that was present at Juliet’s.  It’s Albany, again, whom Shakespeare has say it best:

            Albany  Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead.

                                                                                            [Exit Gentleman.]

                        This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble,

                        Touches us not with pity.[63]

That’s Shakespeare’s statement on this suicide – it touches nobody with pity.

Gloucester’s Attempted Suicide – The Backstory

            The attempted suicide backstory can be brought up to speed in short shrift: Gloucester’s eyes are gouged out, ostensibly by the grinding tip of a sword – at the behest of Goneril.  Not only is Gloucester minus two eyes he has just been told he was duped by his younger son, Edmund, when Edmund told him that Edgar, his other son, was plotting to kill him. That wasn’t true; but, earlier in the play, upon hearing Edmund’s false story Gloucester, thinking it true, put word out to have Edgar captured; Edgar subsequently went into hiding and disguised himself as Poor Tom – a feigned, half-mad beggar.

Gloucester’s current circumstances are this: he’s duped by false-son Edmund to turn against true-son Edgar; Edgar is on the run, disguised as Poor Tom; Gloucester’s eyes are gouged out and is blind; Gloucester finds out Edmund’s story about Edgar was not true and in reality, Edmund was after his money and wanted him murdered, not Edgar.   Got it?

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Searching Shakespeare’s mind for the reason behind Gloucester’s attempted suicide – given the double ignominy of being blinded and having been betrayed by one false son to the detriment of the true son – is self-evident.  However, Shakespeare, as was his wont, adds some great insight.

            After his eyes get gouged out, Shakespeare has Gloucester’s first lament not to be the loss of his eyes and sight but rather his foolishness in being duped by false Edmund: O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused.  Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him![64]  Shortly, an old man and Gloucester’s good son, Edgar, disguised as Poor Tom, see Gloucester wandering aimlessly. They offer to help Gloucester because he cannot see his way.  Gloucester replies, I have no way and therefore want no eyes: I stumbled when I saw,[65] acknowledging that when he had eyes his judgment stumbled when he believed false Edmund.  Still not knowing the disguised, beggarly Poor Tom is his good son Edgar, Gloucester says that actually he does, in fact, want to go somewhere.

                        Gloucester        Dost thou know Dover?

Edgar               Ay, master.

                        Gloucester        There is a cliff, whose high and bending head

                                                Looks fearfully in the confined deep:

                                                Bring me but to the very brim of it

                                                And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear

                                                With something rich about me.  From that place

                                                I shall no leading need.

                        Edgar               Give me thy arm;

                                                Poor Tom shall lead thee.[66]

            It becomes clear why Dover is his destination: after he reaches the cliff he’ll no more need leading.  When they get to the cliffs of Dover – just prior to flinging himself off – Gloucester says his peace and says goodbye to Poor Tom.

                                                [Kneeling] O you mighty gods!

                        This world I do renounce, and in your sights

                        Shake patiently my great affliction off.

                        If I could bear it longer, and not fall

                        To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,

                        My snuff and loathed part of nature should

                        Burn itself out.  If Edgar live, O, bless him!

                        Now, fellow, fare thee well.[67] 

                                                                        [Gloucester casts himself down]           

            But Gloucester doesn’t fall off the cliff, he doesn’t die; Edgar had only told him they were at the edge of the cliff. Probably leading Gloucester to a small elevated piece of ground, Edgar says they are at cliff’s edge and says they are so far above the water a ship below looks like a little rowboat.  Edgar thereafter convinces blind Gloucester he has indeed fallen quite a distance and it is a miracle he is alive.  Shakespeare ensures Gloucester embraces his second chance at life and will bear his future sufferings:

                                          Henceforth I’ll bear

                        Affliction till it do cry out itself

                        ‘Enough, enough’ and die.[68]

            Gloucester, therefore, resolves to suffer his afflictions until they themselves have had enough of life and he dies naturally: he won’t override his afflictions and his life according to his mind’s fancy or how he feels about his circumstance; rather, he will let his life live out its natural course.  Given his druthers though, notwithstanding he has stated he will henceforth bear his afflictions, Gloucester wants the gods to take his life forthwith in case he gets tempted to attempt suicide again:

                        You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;

                        Let not my worser spirit tempt me again

                        To die before you please.[69]

            Shakespeare briefly acknowledges two widely held 17th century beliefs:  worser spirit – the devil, manifesting as man’s internal bad, evil spirit; to die before you please – before God decides when a person’s natural death will be.  Both these concepts – man was tempted by the devil to commit suicide before God had ordained the death according to his will – were the main reasons why suicide was viewed as a sin against God and the church: the suicide was depriving God of a cherished life and depriving God of the decision when the person was supposed to die. Shakespeare, simply, acknowledges the fact that in 17th century England the prevailing view was that it was the purview of God to decide when a person died, not the person’s decision. And if an individual took their own life the church and much of society, on balance, would see that as work of the devil.

            Shortly thereafter, Gloucester and Edgar, whose true identity is now known to his father, share a few words about the timing of death when Edgar says Men must endure their going hence [death],even as their coming hither [birth].[70]  They exit.  Shakespeare ostensibly have the gods mercifully take Gloucester’s breath for that is his last scene. 

Shakespeare’s Statement On Gloucester’s Attempted Suicide

            It doesn’t appear Shakespeare pushed the envelope on Gloucester’s attempted suicide.  Gloucester has reason enough; it’s not likely many in 17th century England would blame him for the attempt.  And, by ensuring Gloucester repented for trying to take his own life and, after failing, has him acknowledge God’s role in deciding an individual’s time of death, Shakespeare likely contented many church officials and groundlings.  It seems to fit what he was writing.

Julius Caesar, c. 1599

            Rome.  15 March 44 BC – the Ides of March.  Julius Caesar is assassinated, stabbed, give or take, 23 times according to history; two or more of those by the hands of Marcus Brutus and Caius Cassius.  For good measure, Shakespeare has Caesar daggered 33 times.

Invention or Historical Suicide

            Historical.  Caesar’s assassination and the subsequent suicides of two of the assassins are historical events.  Shakespeare uses Plutarch (c. 45 – c. 120 AD), Greek historian and author, as his main source. Shakespeare incorporates lesser third and fourth suicides into his play; whether the third and fourth suicides are historical or Shakespeare’s creation is up for debate.

Number Of Suicides – 4

            Portia – Brutus’s wife.

            Caius Cassius.

            Titinius – soldier to Cassius.

            Marcus Brutus.

The Backstory

            The Roman Senate had over time – prior to 15 March 44 BC – bestowed on Julius Caesar many honours, powers and titles culminating with the Senate naming him dictator perpetuo, dictator for life, in February 44 BC.  Many notable Romans liked it not, including Brutus and Cassius; they saw Caesar as too ambitious to the detriment of the general good.  Shakespeare has Cassius convince Brutus something must be done to save the Roman Republic from turning into a dictatorship – if it wasn’t already.  They conclude there is only way to stop Rome from descending further into one-man-rule: assassinate Caesar in the Senate on 15 March.

Shakespeare has Caesar’s wife, Calpurnia, fear something bad will befall Caesar if he goes to the Senate on the 15th.  Caesar thinks she’s being silly and has none of it:

Cowards die many times before their deaths:

The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear,

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.[71]

No, Caesar shall forth to the Senate today.  But it wasn’t just Calpurnia Shakespeare had worry about Caesar’s fate; Artemidorus, a learned Roman teacher, was also fearful for Caesar’s safety.  Shakespeare has Artemidorus read a warning letter that he wants to give Caesar as he walks to the Senate; alas, Caesar never reads it.  The warning letter gets straight to the point:

             ‘Caesar, beware of Brutus; take

heed of Cassius;  come not near Casca;

have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius;

mark well Metellus Cimber;

Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast

wrong’d Caius Ligarius.  There is but one

mind in all these men, and it is bent against

Caesar. If thou beest no immortal, look

about you.  Security gives way to conspiracy.

The mighty gods defend thee!’[72]

Caesar ignores his wife’s warning, doesn’t read Artemidorus’s and forths to the Senate where he will entertain petitions.    While seated on his elevated dias, Caesar hears some petitionly requests that need his attention; the conspirators gather around.  When the time is ripe, Casca is the first to attack. 

Casca   Speak, hands, for me!

[They stab Caesar. Casca strikes the first, Brutus the last blow.]

Caesar  Et tu, Brute? – Then fall, Caesar!

                                                            [Dies.]

Cinna    Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

             Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.

Cassius  Some to the common pulpits, and cry out

             ‘Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!’

Brutus   People and Senators, be not affrighted.

             Fly not; stand still.  Ambition’s debt is paid.[73]

Thirty three – that’s how many times Shakespeare has Caesar daggered.  Shortly thereafter, Shakespeare unleashes one of his most recognizable speeches courtesy of Mark Antony; a few other speeches about Caesar’s death are pretty good too, if less known.

After attempts at reconciliation with the assassins fail, the other leading men of Rome – Mark Antony and Octavius Caesar – engage in civil war with the two armies of Brutus and Cassius.  Early in the war Brutus is informed Portia, his wife, has died.  Cassius assumes she was sick when she died.

Cassius                        Upon what sickness?

Brutus                          Impatient of my absence,

And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony

Have made themselves so strong; for with her death

That tidings came. With this she fell distract,

And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.

Cassius    And died so?

Brutus                           Even so. [74]

Historical debate – 2000 years running – questions whether the real Portia committed suicide or died otherwise.  No matter, Shakespeare writes it as a suicide; he has her falling distract and then swallowed fire. Falling distract can likely be variously equated to: depressed, out of her mind, gone mad and beside herself with grief due to the fact her husband is absent from her and he’s in the middle of a war against enemies who have become strong.  Beset with those odds and seeing no possible way of a successful outcome for her husband, when given an open opportunity – her attendants absent – she swallowed fire.

After Portia’s suicide, Brutus and Cassius learn the armies of Mark Antony and Octavius are advancing towards ground which will prove the war’s final battle: the Battle of Philippi.  In the ensuing fog of war, reconnaissance reports as to victory or defeat get garbled: a victory by Brutus over Octavius gets mistaken by Cassius as a defeat.  Cassius, already surrounded by Mark Antony’s army, sees no way out.  Cassius thinks he’s done for and Brutus, Cassius mistakenly surmises, has also suffered defeat; he asks his servant, Pindarus, to help him commit suicide.  Cassius, in a previous war that had nothing to do with the present one, took Pindarus as an enemy prisoner instead of killing him, thus saving his life.  But, it came with a catch:  Pindarus had to do whatever Cassius asked of him.

            Cassius  Come hither, sirrah.

            In Parthia did I take thee prisoner;

            And then I swore thee, saving of thy life,

            That whatsoever I did bid thee do

            Thou shouldst attempt it.  Come now, keep thine oath;

Now be a freeman, and with this good sword,

            That ran through Caesar’s bowels, search this bosom.

            Stand not to answer; here, take thou the hilts;

            And when my face is cover’d, as ‘tis now,

            Guide thou the sword.                           [Pindarus stabs him.]

                                             Caesar, thou art reveng’d,

            Even with the sword that kill’d thee. [75]  [Dies.]

To the end, Pindarus was a faithful servant; he holds the sword firmly and plunges it through Cassius as his master leans forth. Pindarus is now a free man.

Titinius, a soldier to Cassius, returns to where he last left Cassius alive.  When they last spoke it was Cassius that sent Titinius on a reconnaissance sortie to gain knowledge of whether some approaching troops were enemies or friends.  When Titinius returns, Cassius is dead.  Titinius reasons to himself Cassius was misinformed about the outcome of the battle and being mistaken, took his own life, seeing no way to defeat Octavius and Mark Antony.  Titinius gently chides the dead Cassius for being misinformed about the battle’s outcome:

Titinius  …Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?

Did I not meet thy friends, and did not they

Put on my brows this wreath of victory,

And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?

Alas, thou has misconstrued every thing![76]

Seeing his general dead Titinius needs to see no more; using Cassius’s sword, he kills himself. That’s suicide number three.

For his part, Brutus continues to fight with his army but he is outnumbered and outmatched; it is over.  Brutus gathers his trusted men around him and says his farewells.  Brutus asks one of his soldier-servants, Clitus, to hold his sword so he can run onto it.  Clitus, not for all the world will do such a deed preferring that he’d rather kill myself.  Brutus then asks the same task of Dardanius; Dardanius refuses to do so. Brutus then turns to Volumnius, an old school mate, and requests the same; Volumnius likewise refuses.  The enemy is advancing and almost upon them.  Clitus, Dardanius and Volumnius retreat and run for their lives; only Brutus and Strato remain on-stage.

Brutus  I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord;

Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it.

Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,

While I do run upon it.  Wilt thou, Strato?

Strato   Give me your hand first.  Fare you well, my lord.

Brutus  Farewell, good Strato. Caesar, now be still.

I kill’d not thee with half so good a will.[77]

         [He runs on his sword and dies.]

And thus concludes Shakespeare’s half-Sword parlying suicides in Julius Caesar.  Two of which – Cassius and Brutus – were important enough to Digges to bring attention to the suicide scenes in his 1623 Folio elegy. In so doing, Digges explicitly connects Shakespeare’s death to the deaths of Cassius and Brutus.

Motive

            Portia – depressed, possibly tinged with signs of madness, which might be a given considered she swallowed fire; her distract, depressed mood undoubtedly rested solely on the fact she couldn’t see any way in which Brutus was going to be successful in his war.

Cassius – facing defeat, Cassius thinks suicide is the best option.

Titinius – places much respect in Cassius and Cassius’s suicide; Titinius views his suicide as a noble Roman act.

            Brutus – his first motive likely rests on the fact he refused to be paraded through the streets of Rome as a bound prisoner; later, adding to that earlier motive, Brutus sees suicide as worthy and by his suicide he will enjoy much glory.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Not much can be learned about Shakespeare’s mind when Portia’s suicide is dissected.  She was distract, depressed and escaped her dire view of her future fortunes by taking her own life.

            The same thing can’t be said of the suicides of Cassius, Titinius and Brutus; much can be learned about Shakespeare’s thoughts when these suicides are analysed.  The first thing, which is somewhat interesting to note, is the significance of the date Cassius’s suicide – his birthday: an idemjour-suicide.

Idemjour-suicide

            The real person, the historical Cassius, was born c. 86 BC; no actual birth date is known, unless such date is arrived at by way of extrapolation informed by Plutarch.  If Plutarch, in his Lives, is accurate Cassius kills himself, by way of deduction, on his birthday.[78]  While loosely following Plutarch Shakespeare, however, explicitly has Cassius acknowledge it’s his birthday – the same day as the battle and the same day of his eventual suicide; thus plainly and without equivocation creating Cassius’s idemjour-suicide.  Speaking with Messala, Cassius sets his birthday scene:

                                                            Messala,

                        This is my birth-day; as this very day

                        Was Cassius born.  Give me thy hand, Messala.

                        Be thou my witness that against my will,

                        As Pompey was, am I compell’d to set

                        Upon one battle all our liberties.[79]

Cassius, on his birthday, acknowledges he is prepared to stake all their liberties against the outcome of one battle – the Battle of Philippi. Later, Shakespeare has Cassius address his birthday once again, just before his suicide:

                        This day I breathed first. The time is come round,

                        And where I did begin there shall I end;

                        My life is run his compass.[80] 

His compass of life has run its course – revolved 360 degrees, ending where it began, on his birthday.  Within a few lines Cassius is dead; his good servant Pindarus held and thrust Cassius’s sword as his master fell into it. Cassius’s idemjour-suicide – his birth and death on the same date brought about by one’s own hand – while suggested by Plutarch is clearly brought into unequivocal focus by Shakespeare.  Maybe Shakespeare did place symbolic importance on birthdays after all.  Maybe dying on one’s birthday did hold significance for Shakespeare.

Brutus and Cassius Pre-Battle Discussion

            Before Shakespeare has Brutus and Cassius take up separate positions on the battlefield he has the men share their thoughts with each other on what each will do if the battle doesn’t go to plan, they lose and, perhaps, are at risk of being taken captive.

                        Cassius                 Now, most noble Brutus,

                        The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may,

                        Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!

                        But, since the affairs of men rest still incertain,

                        Let’s reason with the worst that may befall.

                        If we do lose this battle, then is this

                        The very last time we shall speak together.

                        What are you then determined to do?

                        Brutus

                        Even by the rule of that philosophy

                        By which I did blame Cato for the death

                        Which he did give himself – I know not how,

                        But I do find it cowardly and vile,

                        For fear of what might fall, so to prevent

                        The time of life – arming myself with patience

                        To stay the providence of some high powers

                        That govern us below.[81]

Shakespeare initially has Brutus in the above passage view suicide as cowardly and vile if it’s undertaken while in fear of what may come and thus prevent one’s natural death; suicide prevents the time of life to expire which should be left to a higher power.  Cassius doesn’t buy it.

Cassius            Then, if we lose this battle,

You are contented to be led in triumph

Thorough the streets of Rome?

Brutus

No, Cassius, no.  Think not, thou noble Roman,

That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;

He bears too great a mind. But this same day

Must end that work the ides of March begun,

And whether we shall meet again I know not.[82] 

Shakespeare’s main thrust is that Brutus theoretically thinks suicide not proper; but when faced with the real – not theoretical – possibility of being captured and paraded through the streets of Rome, he changes his mind and resolves, at that point, suicide is preferable.  Taking an ill-favoured position on someone else’s suicide – Cato, in this instance – is entirely different when one is faced with their own real dangers, in real time.  When faced with the real possibility of being taken captive Brutus is certain: he has too great a mind to be taken alive.  One way or another, today will finish what they started on the Ides of March: if they win, they will meet again; if they lose, Brutus makes clear he will not be captive, he will commit suicide instead.

The Suicide of Cassius

Shakespeare doesn’t have Cassius inform the audience explicitly why he committed suicide; not like Brutus when he tells Cassius he has too great a mind to be led captive through the streets of Rome.  Though Cassius doesn’t tell the audience his eventual plan if they lose he does seem to think the battle will not go well; he equates the emergence of ravens and crows flying overhead – omens of death – as a bad sign.

The only hint Shakespeare gives as to what Cassius is thinking prior to his death is his view of himself after he mistakenly thinks Brutus has been defeated and Titinius has been over-run; Cassius views himself thusly: O coward that I am to live so long, to see my best friend ta’en before my face.[83]But this isn’t true, Cassius is mistaken, it’s an error; Titinius was not surrounded by the enemy and he lives, shortly to return to Cassius.    Cassius’s next lines call for Pindarus to plunge his sword into his bosom.  Cassius, as best can be interpreted, sees himself as a coward because he let Titinius be captured.  Later, when Messala sees Cassius’s dead corpse, he laments the fact Cassius committed suicide based on a mistaken belief.

Messala  Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.

O hateful error, melancholy’s child,

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men

The things that are not? O error, soon conceiv’d,

Thou never com’st unto a happy birth,

But kill’st the mother that engend’red thee![84]

Though Shakespeare plays on a double meaning of ‘error’ – 1) suicide and 2) mistaken belief of Titinius being captured – it is clear the literal meaning Shakespeare gives the word ‘error’ is suicide.  As a fun exercise, insert the word ‘suicide’ for ‘error.’  When the passage is read using the word ‘suicide’ his literal meaning shows a little more clearly.  Shakespeare has Cassius in a state of melancholy from thinking Titinius is captured.  Melancholy’s child, is error, suicide; Shakespeare questions suicide qua suicide thusly: why do you show to the willing thoughts of men something that is not so?  Shakespeare also works in a play on the word ‘birth.’  Though the meaning Shakespeare gives to ‘birth’ means ‘a suicide’s birth’ he’s also punning on the fact it’s Cassius’s birthday.  An excellent passage and brilliantly constructed. 

The Suicide of Titinius

Though Shakespeare didn’t give Cassius lines to let the audience know how he viewed his own suicide, Titinius gets to share with the audience his views on his own impending suicide. Titinius implores Brutus to come quickly and see how he, Titinius, regarded Cassius; he also tells the audience his suicide is exactly how noble Romans are supposed to die in circumstances such as these:

Titinius             Brutus, come apace,

And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.

By your leave, gods. This is a Roman’s part.

Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Titinius’ heart.[85] [Dies.]

Such was his respect for Cassius Titinius followed suit so others would know exactly how he viewed his friend.  Titinius explicitly sees his suicide as a natural, Roman thing to do; normal, customary, a Roman’s part; not criminal, not a sin, not out of the ordinary, but rather expected. Is there a higher honour paid to a deceased friend than killing yourself in the same fashion, with the same sword? Not to Shakespeare.

After Cassius and Titinius kill themselves, it is through Brutus Shakespeare lets the audience know exactly how the two suicides should be viewed:

            Brutus Are yet two Romans living such as these?

            The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!

            It is impossible that ever Rome

            Should breed thy fellow *equal*. Friends, I owe moe tears

            To this dead man than you shall see me pay.

            I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.[86]

There are not two Romans left alive that were of such worthy respect; Cassius and Titinius were the last true Romans and Rome will never see their equal again.  If Cassius’s or Titinius’s suicide were seen as dishonourable or despicable acts, Shakespeare would have written something like it touches nobody with pity which was how he characterized Goneril’s suicide.

The Suicide of Brutus

            A few actors get to verbalize what Shakespeare thought about Brutus’s suicide, including Brutus.  First up, is Lucilius, one of Brutus’s soldiers.

            Though Cassius and Titinius are dead and Cassius’s army has fled the battle, Brutus and his army fights on, valiantly; alas, it is no use, they are defeated.  The first of Brutus’s soldiers to be captured is Lucilius.  Mark Antony, Lucilius’s captor, questions Lucilius as to Brutus’s whereabouts.

                        Antony  Where is he?

                        Lucilius Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough.

                        I dare assure thee that no enemy

                        Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus.

                        The gods defend him from so great a shame![87]

The noble Brutus.  It will be great shame for Brutus to be taken alive therefore the gods will prevent such a shameful fate.  If Brutus is not killed in battle he won’t be taken alive either, his suicide will prevent it.  The gods approve of his suicide and defend his actions that will prevent his capture. 

Brutus shares his mind with the audience, unlike Cassius, prior to killing himself when he realizes all is lost.  Brutus opens his thoughts up thusly:

            Our enemies have beat us to the pit;

            It is more worthy to leap in ourselves

            Than tarry till they push us.

                             _________

            I shall have glory by this losing day,

            More than Octavius and Mark Antony

            By this vile conquest shall attain unto.

            So fare you well at once; for Brutus’ tongue

            Hath almost ended his life’s history.

            Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,

            That have but labour’d to attain this hour.[88]

It is more worthy to bring death on yourself than wait until the enemy forces it.  Knowing the suicide is moments away – just a few lines hence – Shakespeare has Brutus see himself attaining more glory in killing himself than the enemy will enjoy by winning the war.  It’s time.  Strato holds his sword as Brutus falls forth.

Enter the victors – Mark Antony and Octavius with prisoners Messala and Lucilius.  Messala, not seeing Brutus on the ground, questions Strato:

            Messala                        Strato, where is thy master?

Strato    Free from bondage you are in, Messala.

            The conquerors can but make a fire of him;

            For Brutus only overcame himself,

            And no man else hath honour by his death.[89]

Shakespeare refuses anybody but Brutus to have honour accorded them as a result of Brutus’s death; Brutus’s death, honourable for him, nobody else.  Shakespeare reserves the loftiest praise for Brutus come by way of his two main enemies – Mark Antony and Octavius.  Their tribute and admiration for Brutus closes out the play with two short eulogies:

            Antony This was the noblest Roman of them all.

            All the conspirators save only he          

            Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;

            He only in a general honest thought

            And common good to all made one of them.

            His life was gentle; and the elements    

            So mix’d in him that Nature might stand up

            And say to all the world ‘This was a man!’

Octavius According to his virtue let us use him,

            With all respect and rites of burial.

            Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,

            Most like a soldier, ordered honourably.

            So call the field to rest, and let’s away

            To part the glories of this happy day.[90]

                                                                        [Exeunt.]

Shakespeare has Mark Antony describe Brutus as the noblest Roman of them all. Undoubtedly, referring to his life and death: his part in the assassination of Caesar was undertaken for the general good and Brutus nobly, took his own life.

Octavius accords Brutus due respect based on his virtue and, importantly, Shakespeare ensures Brutus receives respect and rites of burial – a result unheard of for suicides in 17th century England. Suicides in 17th century England were either given a profane burial with a stake driven through their heart or occasionally were granted partial burial rites; they certainly weren’t treated with respect, far from it.  Not only did Brutus receive rites of burial, Shakespeare also has Brutus to be lain in-state in the tent of Octavius: a truly remarkable outcome – more akin to the treatment of an emperor or monarch than a self-murderer.

Stepping aside from Shakespeare’s mind for one moment it’s time to enter Digges’s once more. Again, so you won’t have to flip back through the pages, here is what Digges had to say about the Romans:

1623

Or till I heare a Scene more nobly take,

Then when thy half-Sword parlying Romans spake.

1640

            And on the Stage at halfe-Sword parley were,
Brutus and Cassius: oh how the Audience,
were ravish’d, with what wonder they went thence…

After reviewing the suicides of Brutus and Cassius more thoroughly, after understanding exactly how Shakespeare wanted to portray the two Romans, after acknowledging Shakespeare refers to the noble Brutus 15 times and the nobleness of Cassius seven and understanding how Digges wanted to depict his half-Sword parlying noble Romans while honouring Shakespeare, it is necessary to accord Digges’s Folio elegy far more respect than it has garnered since it was written over 400 years ago.  

Diving back into Shakespeare’s thoughts it’s clear his Roman suicides are honourable and, like he had Titinius declare, they were to be seen as a Roman part.  The three suicides of Cassius, Titinius and Brutus are nobly-held, not criminal, like 17th century English suicides, nor to be viewed as a sin against God.  The noblest of the noble committed them.  Perhaps Shakespeare, by using the dialogue he used, wanted to draw a comparison about how different cultures treated suicides.  His pen was certainly free to characterize Roman suicides differently because they weren’t committed on English soil and they were from 1500 years earlier.  By depicting these Roman suicides in this manner he was exposing cultural comparisons – to the detriment of his own English culture.  It’s probably not a stretch to say Shakespeare thought the full burial rites given to Roman suicides were morally, ethically and religiously superior to the manner in which 17th century England conducted suicide burials.

It also might not be a stretch to say his audience not only would have been stunned by the on-stage suicides but would be left wondering about how Roman suicides were treated as compared to their own English suicides: O! they were ravished and with what wonder they went hence.  It must have been foreign to Shakespeare’s audience to hear Antony and Octavius call Brutus noble and he was to be given full, honourable burial rites; not a desecrated, profane burial with a stake through his heart.

Without question, Shakespeare was just following history – the true history of the two suicides of Brutus and Cassius. Even though he was following history, by using the language he did – to be heard by a 17th century London audience – Shakespeare knew what he was doing. 

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Suicides are noble, honourable and deserving of respect, granted full burial rites and are not to be viewed as criminals or sinners. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, they shouldn’t be seen as shameful or hidden away; suicides should be admired and praised – not not spoken about.  Shakespeare explicitly makes sure the gods will actually defend Brutus killing himself. Imagine, the gods defending a suicide’s actions thereby preventing capture; it’s a powerful juxtaposition with how Shakespeare’s audience would have felt their Christian god would have viewed things.

Having Brutus lie in-state – after the play is over – in the tent of Octavius is powerful imagery.  It would have been an influential and potent statement to Shakespeare’s 17th century audience.  And, very likely a statement writ on purpose – showing Shakespeare’s mind – and not just literary creation that fit the play. Shakespeare’s inner-most thoughts on the matter – when he was deciding how to dialogue the suicides and how Antony and Octavius should respond to them – is thus: this, is how a suicide and their burials should be viewed: nobly.  Digges thought so too.

Antony and Cleopatra, c. 1606

            It is 1606, the ten year anniversary of the death of Shakespeare’s son, Hamnet. Shakespeare has, again, decided to write a play littered with suicides. Seven or so years after 1599’s Julius Caesar – and a few plays writ in between – Shakespeare offers up its sequel: Antony and Cleopatra.  Turning once more to Plutarch’s Lives for inspiration, Shakespeare puts his own spin on Roman and Egyptian antiquity in Antony and Cleopatra.

            Think: Romeo and Juliet + 35 years of age – Verona + Rome + Egypt + Julius Caesar = Antony and Cleopatra.  Between those three plays the suicides therein count 11 or 12.

If math isn’t one’s strongest subject the above equation can be writ thus: to Romeo and Juliet’s teenage years add 35 or so years to the age of the two, new heartbroken lovers, move them out of Verona, place them in Rome and Egypt and add the honourable and noble view of suicide found in Julius Caesar and voila! thus arrives Antony and Cleopatra.  In sum, Antony and Cleopatra’s suicides are due to various factors but, mainly, heartbreak and not wanting to face the prospect of living without their other; their suicides are viewed as noble and courageous.

Invention or Historical Suicide

            Part historical, part invention, part conjecture.  Plutarch equivocates on a few of the deaths; Shakespeare picks up on the equivocation and makes identifiable deaths more inferentially attributable to suicide, if not entirely explicit. 

Number Of Suicides – 5-6

Enobarbus – counselor to Antony.

Eros – loyal servant to Antony.

Mark Antony.

Iras – attendant to Cleopatra; odd, unexplained death.

            Cleopatra.

            Charmian – attendant to Cleopatra.

The Backstory

            Brutus and Cassius are long dead; Mark Antony, Octavius Caesar and Lepidus are ruling the Roman world, their alliance is known as the Second Triumvirate.  Antony seems to be spending more time with his new enchantress and lover, Cleopatra of Egypt, than he spends helping Octavius and Lepidus govern.  Octavius doesn’t think Antony’s pulling his weight and views his foolish love indulgences as sullying Roman ideals when he is off frolicky with Cleopatra in Alexandria, the Egyptian capital.

            Much happens: Octavius summons Antony back to Rome in order to help mend their rift and help battle the menacing enemy, Sextus Pompey; Antony marries Octavius’s sister, Octavia, in an attempt to repair his rift with Octavius, but Antony can’t deny his love – and healthier lust – for Cleopatra and returns to her in Egypt.  In due course, the Triumvirate falls apart with Lepidus more or less falling out of favour with Octavius as Octavius squeezes Lepidus out of power.  Antony, from Egypt, declared himself co-ruler of Egypt with Cleopatra; he also took nominal control of the eastern Roman vassal states and installed members of Cleopatra’s family into positions of power; positions of power in the Roman government.

As could probably have been predicted, Octavius didn’t entirely care for this unilateral decision by Antony to give his empire up to a whore, who now are levying the kings o’ th’ earth for war.[91]  The stage is set: Antony and Octavius will have to battle it out for alpha-male status and sole de facto ruler of the Roman world. That’s the historical and political back-story.  Spoiler alert: Antony loses, Octavius wins and thus the Roman Empire is born with Octavius as its first emperor.

            Antony and Cleopatra’s relationship backstory is marked by intense lust, high highs and low lows, drag-em-out quarrels, jealousy, power-struggles, rage, rapid mood swings, imagined betrayal, manipulation, ambition and by the end, genuine love. Tumultuous, unhealthy and toxic could also be included as descriptors.

            Spurred on by Cleopatra’s entreaties, but against the advice of his counselors, Antony’s first show-down with Octavius comes at sea – the Battle of Actium near the coast of Greece – with Cleopatra donating her 60 ships to the cause.  No matter, her 60 and Antony’s fleet are routed.  Cleopatra’s ships are the first to turn sail, retreat and flee back to Egypt; Antony follows.  Antony is utterly dejected and he knows the reason for his defeat at sea.

                        Antony O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt?

                                                ___________

Cleopatra                     O, my lord, my lord,

                        Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought

                        You would have followed.

                        Antony                         Egypt, thou knew’st too well

                        My heart was to thy rudder tied by th’ strings,

                        And thou shouldst tow me after.

                                                __________

                                                                        You did know

How much you were my conqueror, and that

                        My sword, made weak by my affection, would                                                                           Obey it on all cause. [92]

            Antony knows he has lost and knows why he lost but, no matter, says Antony, his affection to Cleopatra is greater than a defeat: to Cleopatra, Antony says Give me a kiss; even this repays me[93] and all will be made well again. Alas, the kiss apparently didn’t have staying power as it becomes clear there is trouble in paradise again.  Octavius attempts to pit Cleopatra and Antony against each other; it works, for a short while, giving rise to enmity between the two lovers.  But soon their quarrel is patched – again – and they are one once again: united as one against Octavius, resolving to keep fighting and loving each other:

Antony  If from the field I shall return once more

To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood.

I and my sword will earn our chronicle.

There’s hope in’t yet.

Cleopatra That’s my brave lord!

Antony  I will be treble-sinew’d, hearted, breath’d,

And fight maliciously. For when mine hours

Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives

Of me for jests; but now I’ll set my teeth,

And send to darkness all that stop me.  Come,

Let’s have one other gaudy night.  Call to me

All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;

Let’s mock the midnight bell.

Cleopatra                                It is my birthday.

I had thought t’have held it poor.  But since my lord

Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Antony  We will yet do well. [94]

Once more, Antony is Antony, Cleopatra is Cleopatra; they are mended and everything in their world makes sense again: resolved to love each other, fight against Octavius, but first, they will drink far beyond the midnight bell.  This is one of their high highs. But ‘well’ soon gives way to ‘not well.’ Antony’s chief counselor, Enobarbus, knows Antony has no chance of ultimately beating Octavius; he flees and defects to Octavius. Harbouring no ill-will towards Enobarbus Antony ensures all of Enobarbus’s possessions he left behind – his chests and treasure – are sent to him; receiving them from Antony, Enobarbus is moved to guilt and shame for betraying his general.  Enobarbus dies of his own doing – bereft of the will to live. Permitting the suffocating clutches of guilt and shame to slowly snuff out his remaining breath. In a ditch.

            Riding adrenalin’s high horse from a minor victory on land, Antony is hopeful the next battle – another one at sea with Cleopatra’s ships leading the attack against Octavius’s fleet – will bring him victory.  Alas, no.  Again, the Egyptian ships turn sail and retreat.  Antony is enraged; convinced Cleopatra has surrendered or lost on purpose to Octavius.  He will get his revenge on her, once and for all.

                        Antony                         All is lost!

                        This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me.

                        My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder

                        They cast their caps up and carouse together

                        Like friends long lost. Triple-turn’d whore! ‘tis thou

                        Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart

                        Makes only wars on thee.  Bid them all fly;

                        For when I am reveng’d upon my charm *Cleopatra*

                        I have done all.

                                                ________________

                                                                        Betray’d I am.

                        O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm –

                        Whose eye beck’d forth my wars and call’d them home,

                        Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end –

                        Like a right gipsy hath at fast and loose

                        Beguil’d me to the very heart of loss…

                                                                        [Enter Cleopatra]

                                                            Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!

Cleopatra Why is my lord enrag’d against his love?

                        Antony  Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving

                        And blemish Caesar’s triumph.  Let him take thee

                        And hoist thee up to the shouting plebians;

                        Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot

                        Of all thy sex;[95]

            Antony is none too happy, thinking Cleopatra betrayed him to Octavius. For all he cares, Octavius can capture her and lead her through the streets of Rome captive, a prisoner, behind a chariot to the delight of the jeering Roman plebians. Cleopatra flees Antony’s rage.  Antony reflects calmly with his most trusted servant, Eros, how Cleopatra has betrayed him and his heart: she, Eros, has pack’d cards with Caesar, and false-play’d my glory.[96] Eros weeps.

Meanwhile, Cleopatra assembles her servants and decides to see how her Antony will react if he learns she is dead, that will show him.  To her eunuch, Mardian, Cleopatra instructs:

                                    go tell him I have slain myself;

Say that the last I spoke was ‘Antony’

And word it, prithee, piteously.  Hence, Mardian,

                        And bring me how he takes my death.[97]

How does Antony react to the news of Cleopatra’s alleged death?  Not well; he’s heartbroken.  Antony asks Eros to stab him in the back; Eros kills himself instead, unwilling to kill his master.  Antony has no choice but to kill himself unassisted.  He doesn’t do the greatest job of it and only wounds himself.  Fittingly, Antony is carried to Cleopatra and dies in her arms.  There’s nothing for it now, it is suicide for Cleopatra and her attendants: first, Iras dies, possibly by pre-ingested poison or maybe just of heartbreak, then Cleopatra and finally, Charmian.  Everybody’s life has run its compass.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            While the motive for Antony and Cleopatra’s suicides are similar to Romeo and Juliet’s, Shakespeare’s content – the surrounding dialogue – differs. Even if Antony’s and Cleopatra’s suicides weren’t historical, given the relationship Shakespeare gives Antony and Cleopatra, one almost expects things to end up this way.  Everything Shakespeare gives the pair is characterized by intensity: their lust is intense, their quarrels, their highs, their lows, their love, and yes, their deaths; the intensely-felt suicides fit them.

Prior to unpacking the main suicides attention must be turned to Enobarbus briefly.  After remaining loyal to Antony through thick and thin, the thin finally gets to Enobarbus when he turns from Antony and joins Octavius.  But the joining doesn’t last long: Antony sends the disloyal Enobarbus his possessions and by doing so heaps burning coals of guilt on his head and so burns out Enobarbus’s will to live.  Shakespeare makes Enobarbus go seek some ditch wherein to die; the foul’st best fits my latter part of life.[98]

Not every suicide need be at the point of an uplifted knife or the end of a rope or the swallow of a dram of poison.  Like an animal that knows its time has come or like Timon whose will to live had completely expired, so it goes with Enobarbus.  His regret that turned to guilt, turned to shame, turned to grief-full remorse was too much – letting the noble Antony down was too much; his will to live, gone:

            O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,

            The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,

            That life, a very rebel to my will,

            May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart

            Against the flint and hardness of my fault,

            Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,

            And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,

            Nobler than my revolt is infamous,

            Forgive me in thine own particular,

            But let the world rank me in register

            A master-leaver and a fugitive!

            O Antony! O Antony![99]                 [Dies]

Though Shakespeare wrote Enobarbus’s death as a suicide he gives no method; other than ensuring it is clear Enobarbus had zero desire to live and ignominiously permits him to breathe his last while uttering his shame for leaving the noble Antony.  The death of Enobarbus no doubt would have saddened Antony but he never hears of it; the next event to catch Antony’s attention is his view Cleopatra betrayed him in their final battle against Octavius.  When his rage subsides it is then he first resolves to kill himself, long before he hears the false report Cleopatra has killed herself.  Seeing Eros weep at their defeat, Antony comforts his most loyal servant: Nay, weep not, gentle Eros, there is left us ourselves to end ourselves.[100]

It is after Antony makes his first overt allusion to committing suicide that Shakespeare informs Antony Cleopatra allegedly took her own life.  From there, Shakespeare mires Antony in melancholic reflection and self-chastisement that his queen is more courageous to take her own life before Antony has taken his; his subsequent instruction to Eros is clear. 

                                                Since Cleopatra died,

            I have liv’d in such dishonour that the gods

            Detest my baseness.  I, that with my sword

            Quarter’d the world and o’er green Neptune’s back

            With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack            

            The courage of a woman.[101]

Antony then reminds Eros he is sworn to kill Antony if Antony requests; that time has come.  Antony asks Eros to hold his sword; Eros answers:

Eros Turn from me then that noble countenance,

Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

Antony Lo thee!                        [Turning from him.]

Eros My sword is drawn.

Antony                         Then let it do at once

The thing why thou hast drawn it.

Eros                                         My dear master,

My captain, and my emperor, let me say,

Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

Antony ‘Tis said, man; and farewell.

Eros  Farewell, great chief.  Shall I strike now?

Antony                                     Now, Eros.

Eros Why, there then! Thus I do escape the sorrow

Of Antony’s death.                    [Kills himself.]

There was no possible way Eros could kill his beloved captain, his master; zero possibility.  Knowing unimaginable sorrow was a thrust away, Eros knows he wouldn’t be able to deal with the ensuing inconsolable grief which would soon engulf him after Antony is dead; he kills himself instead.  Antony is taken aback by Eros’s noble courage. Antony knows he must end his own life, now.

Antony Thrice-nobler than myself!

Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what

I should, and thou couldst not.  My queen and Eros

Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me

A nobleness in record.  But I will be

A bridegroom in my death, and run into’t

As to a lover’s bed.  Come, then; and, Eros,

Thy master dies thy scholar.  To do thus

[Falling on his sword.]

I learn’d of thee.  How?  not dead?  not dead?[102]

Mortally wounded, but not dead, Antony pleads with others to finish the job; but when he finds out Cleopatra is not dead, instead of continuing pleading for his death, he pleads to be taken to his love.  When together with Cleopatra, Shakespeare has Antony extol his ultimate triumph over Caesar – his own death – by depriving Octavius of the accomplishment.  Shakespeare gives Antony a few words wherein the audience is permitted into Antony’s thoughts on his own suicide.

Antony                                    

Not Caesar’s valour hath o’erthrown Antony,

But Antony’s hath triumphed on itself.

Cleopatra So it should be, that none but Antony

Should conquer Antony, but woe ‘tis so![103]

Not Caesar’s valour has triumphed over Antony; it was Antony’s valour – committing suicide – that has triumphed over defeated Antony.  Not Caesar, but only Antony should conquer Antony.  Thus was Antony’s suicide similar to Brutus’s for Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death.[104] Antony suggests to those gathered around his bloody, dying body how they should remember him.

Antony The miserable change now at my end

Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts

In feeding them with those my former fortunes

Wherein I liv’d the greatest prince o’ th’ world,

The noblest; and do now not basely die,

Not cowardly put off my helmet to

My countryman – a Roman, by a Roman

Valiantly vanquish’d.  Now my spirit is going,

I can no more.[105]                                             

Not basely dying does Shakespeare/Antony see his suicide; he lived as the noblest Roman and died likewise.  Shakespeare then lets Cleopatra espouse her views as she holds her dying Antony. 

Cleopatra Noblest of men, wilt thou die?

Hast no care of me? Shall I abide

In this dull world, which in thy absence is

No better than a sty?                             [Antony dies.]

                        ______________         

                                    Then is it sin

To rush into the secret house of death

Ere death dare come to us?

                        _____________

Our lamp is spent, it’s out! Good sirs, take heart.

We’ll bury him; and then, what’s brave, what’s noble,

Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion,

And make death proud to take us.[106]

Holding her dead, noble Antony in her arms Cleopatra’s thoughts soon turn to 1) the prospect of living life without Antony and 2) questions whether it is sinful to commit suicide.

Shakespeare has no such question enter the mind of Antony prior to killing himself because, for a Roman, suicide was viewed as noble, not a sin.  Cleopatra is not Roman, she’s Egyptian.  Shakespeare probably has Cleopatra asking if suicide is a sin to remind his 17th century audience that not all cultures viewed suicide as a sin and some, like Cleopatra, wondered if suicide should even be classified as a sin.  This might have accomplished Shakespeare’s intended effect, if in fact it was intended: to change the contemporary 17th century English view that suicide was a sin.  Cleopatra soon concludes taking one’s own life is, in fact, a noble act and not sinful: We’ll bury him; and then, what’s brave, what’s noble, Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us. Cleopatra, like Antony and Octavius in Julius Caesar, ensured a suicide corpse received a burial; another clear distinction with 17th century English attitudes towards self-murderers.

While Cleopatra was making plans for her own suicide Octavius is brought on stage and is informed Antony is dead.

            Decretas          He is dead, Caesar,

            Not by a public minister of justice,

            Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand

            Which writ his honour in the acts it did

            Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,

            Splitted the heart.  This is his sword;

            I robb’d his wound of it; behold it stain’d

            With his most noble blood.

            Caesar                         Look you sad, friends?

            The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings

            To wash the eyes of kings.[107]

Shakespeare ensures Antony’s suicide is courageous and his blood, noble. Octavius Caesar wept.  Even though Octavius now knows Antony’s death brings him unrivalled power to rule the Roman world solely he acknowledges, sadly, it had to come to this: yet let me lament, with tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts […] that our stars, unreconciliable, should divide our equalness to this.[108]      

Cleopatra recognizes her heartbreak and understands her desolation does begin to make a better life […] and it is great to do that thing that ends all other deeds.[109] Great to do that thing that ends all other deeds: this might be Shakespeare’s clearest explanation as to how he views suicide – great to do. So resolved is Cleopatra to commit suicide she first attempts killing herself with a dagger but is disarmed.  No matter, she will ultimately be successful and procures two asps – poisonous snakes; they will do an admirable job because those that do die of it do seldom or never recover.[110]  Cleopatra, preparing for her end, feels and hears it beckoning closer:

                                                      Methinks I hear

                        Antony call. I see him rouse himself

                        To praise my noble act.

                                                __________

                                                            Husband, I come.

                        Now to that name my courage prove my title.[111]

            About to kill herself, Shakespeare/Cleopatra views herself as noble and courageous.  Saying her final farewells to her attendants – Iras and Charmian – she kisses them both.  Iras falls dead instantly after the kiss.  That’s quite a sudden death, likely to be viewed as dying from grief, knowing she is helping Cleopatra prepare for her own suicidal death.  While it is possible Iras had previously taken poison to hasten her kissed-death, it’s improbable; as is the improbability that Cleopatra already had the snake’s venom on her lips, which she wonders about.  Iras’s death is inserted by Shakespeare as purely literary creation and is needed as a foundation of Cleopatra’s next few lines. Iras’s death leads Cleopatra to fret that if dead-Iras makes it to dead-Antony first in the after-life, Iras will be the one receiving Antony’s kisses, not her.  Cleopatra chides herself for not getting on with things:

                                                This proves me base.

                        If she *Iras* first meet the curled Antony,

                        He’ll make demand of her, and spend that kiss

                        Which is my heaven to have.  Come thou mortal wretch,

                                                            [To an asp, which she applies to her breast.]

                        With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate

                        Of life at once untie.  Poor venomous fool,

                        Be angry, and dispatch.[112]

            Intrinsicate of life: Shakespeare, here, describes life as a complex, intricate knot – not dissimilar to his other descriptions of life elsewhere – ready to be untied, i.e., die.  After applying a second asp to her arm, Cleopatra dies.  Two guards come into the scene and enquire of Cleopatra’s whereabouts.  Charmian admonishes the two guards for speaking loudly as they will wake her.  Shortly thereafter, Charmian applies an asp to her body and dies.

Octavius enters and surveys the spectacle – three dead.  Soon, he wonders how they could have died because he sees no blood and if they had swallowed poison,‘t would appear by external swelling.[113] Octavius is then told of the slimy residue remnant the snakes likely left on the suicides’ bodies.  With the manner of suicide solved, Octavius next turns his attention to their funerals.

                                                            Most probable

                        That so she died; for her physician tells me

                        She hath pursu’d conclusions infinite

                        Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed,

                        And bear her women from the monument.

                        She shall be buried by her Antony;

                        No grave upon the earth shall clip in it

                        A pair so famous.  High events as these

                        Strike those that make them; and their story is

                        No less in pity than his glory which

                        Brought them to be lamented.  Our army shall

                        In solemn show attend this funeral,

                        And then to Rome.  Come, Dolabella, see

                        High order in this great solemnity.[114]      [Exeunt.]

            Shakespeare has Cleopatra consult her physician as to convenient ways to die; knowing such people who knew about such things might prove handy.  Maybe it was Cleopatra’s doctor that suggested the snake. And thus Shakespeare ends Antony and Cleopatra: she will be buried properly beside her man; the army, observing proper mourning, will attend their funeral which will be performed in the highest order. 

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

Shakespeare agrees with the historical view Roman suicides were seen as noble, honourable, courageous and it can be described as great to do that thing that ends all other deeds. Shakespeare ensures the suicides received full burial rites and were offered solemn mourning in the highest order.  Notwithstanding Romans didn’t view suicide as a sin, Shakespeare nevertheless brings to his English audience a direct question via Cleopatra: is suicide a sin?  He lets his audience answer the question as they will and lets them make their own mind up, with Cleopatra’s assistance, because for Shakespeare, he already knows his answer: it is not.

Othello, c. 1603

            There is much going on in Othello: matters of race, jealousy, misplaced self-righteousness and villainy.  Probing Shakespeare’s mind on those subjects is a daunting task.  Better to leave that to others. Only Shakespeare’s one suicide will be unpacked.

Invention or Historical Suicide

Shakespeare used as his main source – there are others – a portion of 1565s Gli Hecatommithi,writ by Italian author, Cinthio, also known by his real name, Giovanni Battista Giraldi. The suicide is Shakespeare’s invention as are the suicidal musings of another character.  The name Othello – loosely based on ‘Cinthio’ – is Shakespeare’s invention as well.

Number Of Suicides – 1

            Othello – stabs himself.

            Roderigo – talks about killing himself.

The Backstory

            While complicated – or better stated – the analysis of the backstory can get complicated – the investigation will endeavor to keep the backstory as simple as possible to the extent as is necessary to see what Shakespeare has to say about suicide.  Important facts are thus:

– Othello is a great war-like commander, in the employ of Venice as an army general;

– Othello is often referred to as the Moor; nailing down whether Shakespeare sees his Othello as north African, Arab or of black sub-Saharan descent is not clear; the investigation’s guess is that Shakespeare sees his Othello as north African, but it’s just a guess;

– Othello has promoted Cassio to be his lieutenant, while passing over his ensign, Iago;

-from his first lines, Iago makes clear he is bitter towards the world, jealous of everybody and everything, hates all, has a very high Lie Q, is an expert at deception and manipulation, and won’t be happy until he ruins Othello’s life, Desdemona’s and Cassio’s;

– Othello marries Desdemona, in secret;

– this upsets no few people: her father, another suitor, Roderigo, and Iago;

– Desdemona publicly confirms she loves Othello and their marriage is approved by the Duke of Venice, further upsetting her father, Roderigo and Iago;

– capitalizing on the misguided-Roderigo’s misplaced-love for Desdemona Iago uses the easily-led Roderigo to implement his treacherous plans: ruin Othello, Desdemona and Cassio; if Roderigo gets caught up in the scandals, so be it.

– Othello is sent by the Duke of Venice to help the Governor of Cyprus defend the island against the attacking Turks;

– also to Cyprus go Desdemona, Cassius, Iago, Iago’s wife Emilia – Desdemona’s attendant – and the naïve Roderigo;

– luckily, and in short order, bad weather destroyed the fleet of the marauding Turks so the rest of the entire play can focus on Iago’s schemes: humiliating and ruining Cassio and bringing Othello to ruinous, murderous jealousy against his wife;

– Iago scatters many false seeds but his main instrument of ruination is the lie that Cassio and Desdemona have been having an affair;

– so convincing is Iago in his ruse, he soon has Othello plotting the murder of Desdemona with Iago agreeing to kill Cassio;

– Roderigo is upset with Iago for not helping him win Desdemona, which Iago had promised to do; Roderigo threatens Iago by saying he is going to go to Desdemona and ask for the jewels back that Iago was supposed to give Desdemona on behalf of Roderigo; by the end of that conversation, Iago has somehow convinced Roderigo to kill Cassio;

– Iago’s treachery has mixed results: Cassio is only wounded, not killed;

– to ensure Roderigo doesn’t talk to the authorities, Iago kills Roderigo;

– Othello is successful in murdering his wife out of raging jealousy founded on intentionally-laid, Iago-induced false facts; Othello kills Desdemona in their bed;

– after Desdemona’s murder, Iago’s schemes start to unravel thanks to his wife, Emilia;

– Iago kills Emilia;

– Othello finally sees everything Iago told him about his wife’s alleged adultery was not true;

– Othello tries to kill Iago, but only wounds him;

– beset with guilt, Othello stabs himself, falling on his dead wife’s body;

– Iago, Shakespeare’s far and away # 1 villain, is taken into custody with the time and place of his torture to be determined;

– and thus ends another happy tale by Shakespeare.

 Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

            Though it is Roderigo who lightly muses about killing himself it is mostly through Iago whom Shakespeare speaks when he writes of suicide ideation.

            After Othello and Desdemona’s marriage has received the Duke’s blessing Othello is dispatched to help defend Cyprus; Desdemona is permitted to follow him.  Roderigo, hoping for a different outcome, is downcast.  He asks Iago what he should do.

                        Roderigo          What will I do, think’st thou?

                        Iago                 Why, go to bed and sleep.

                        Roderigo           I will incontinently *with no control* drown myself.

                        Iago                 Well, if thou dost, I shall never love

thee after it.  Why, thou silly gentleman!

                        Roderigo          It is silliness to live when to live is

torment; and then have we a prescription

to die when death is our physician.

                        Iago                 O villainous!

                                                            __________________

                                                                                    Ere I would say I

                                                would drown myself for the love of a

guinea-hen, I would change my humanity
with a baboon.

                        Roderigo          What should I do? I confess it is

my shame to be so fond, but it is not in my

virtue to amend it.

                        Iago                 Virtue? A fig! ‘Tis in our ourselves

that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our

gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.

                                                            ________________

                                                                                                If the

balance of our lives had not one scale of

reason to poise another of sensuality, the

blood and baseness of our natures would

conduct us to most preposterous con-

                                                clusions. But we have reason to cool our raging

                                                motions…[115]

            Shakespeare has Iago admonish Roderigo for thinking such a ridiculous thing as contemplating suicide over the unrequited love of a woman. And, reason should prevail over desired sensuality. In the next full passage, of which only a few snippets will be reproduced, Shakespeare cranks up the wit.

                        Iago                 It is merely a lust of the blood and

a permission of the will.  Come, be a man!

Drown thyself?  Drown cats and blind

puppies!

                                                            _______________

                                                                                    If thou wilt needs

damn thyself, do it a more delicate way

                                                than drowning.

                                                            _______________

                                                                                                A pox

a drowning thyself! It is clean out of the

way. Seek thou rather to be hang’d in

compassing *achieving* thy joy than to be drown’d

and go without her.[116]

            Shakespeare alludes to the prevailing 17th century mindset of the day that suicide brings damnation to the deceased; other than that, it’s fairly obvious Shakespeare is mocking the contemplative suicide – over unrequited love – when reason should prevail over such a silly thought.

            At first blush, this attitude might seem contrary to his supportive view of suicides whose motives were heartbreak.  And therein lies the difference: it’s clear Shakespeare makes a distinction between unrequited love and heartbreak.  Roderigo’s unrequited love is no valid reason for suicide whereas devastating, shattered-heart syndrome a la Romeo, Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra is quite a different story.  Besides, it’s clear 1) Roderigo really has no legitimate claim to being heartbroken and 2) his suicide ideation seems to be writ more for the benefit of Iago so he can mock and wax-lengthy on Roderigo’s foolish thoughts.

            By the time Act III rolls around Iago has spent the majority of the play playing with Othello’s mind by planting adulterous seeds of Desdemona’s infidelity.  Though Othello’s not completely convinced of his wife’s unfaithfulness he is as obviously torn about the matter as he is over whether Iago is being truthful.  Othello equates Desdemona’s alleged infidelity with slandering his good name; it is that, his sinking reputation, that he can’t abide and if he could Othello would kill himself:

                                                            If there be cords or knives,

                                    Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,

                                    I’ll not endure it.  Would I were satisfied![117]     

            Iago keeps stoking the fire; Othello’s jealousy burns hotter, soon to rage out of control.  For her part, Desdemona can’t understand it: she’s given no reason for Othello to be jealous and never before has Othello shown jealousy – of any sort – towards her.  It is Emilia – Desdemona’s attendant, Iago’s wife – who seems to hit the nail on the head and uncover the real reason jealousy rears its ugly head.  Shakespeare has Emilia put it this way:

                                                But jealous souls will not be answer’d so;

                                                They are not ever jealous for the cause,

                                                But jealous for they are jealous. ‘Tis a monster

                                                Begot upon it self, born on it self.

                        Desdemona      Heaven keep the monster from Othello’s mind! [118]

            Alas, no, the monster is not kept from Othello’s mind; with Iago’s treachery in full gallop, Othello’s mind keeps apace, his jealousy turning the corner towards the home stretch.  He’s resolved to kill his wife; perhaps by chopping to her pieces, but then decides on another way:

                        Othello             Get me some poison, Iago…

                        Iago                 Do it not with poison; strangle her

in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.

                        Othello             Good, good; the justice of it

pleases; very good.

                        Iago                 And for Cassio – let me be his

undertaker.[119]

 Othello’s mind crosses the finish line.  Standing over the sleeping Desdemona Othello takes a few last kisses and makes a few things clear during his pre-murder speech:

                                                                                                  [Kissing her.]

                        O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade

                        Justice to break her sword!  One more, one more. [Kisses again.]

                        Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,

                        And love thee after.  One more [Kisses again.] and that’s the last:

                        So sweet was ne’er so fatal.  I must weep,

                        But they are cruel tears.  This sorrow’s heavenly;

                        It strikes where it doth love.[120]

Justice.  Othello sees his murder of Desdemona as justice. Othello still loves his wife, but Shakespeare makes it clear Othello’s so-called ‘love’ for his wife is not enough to overcome her alleged adultery; alleged adultery that has slandered Othello’s good name.

Things start to unravel quickly: Othello murders Desdemona, Emilia dares Othello to kill her, more people enter the bedroom, Emilia having just put two and two together reveals the lies Iago promoted, Emilia says she’ll kill herself due to grief, the audience is informed Desdemona’s father is dead or else he’d kill himself after seeing such a sight and then Iago kills Emilia.

It is at this point Shakespeare allows Othello to inform the audience how he views himself as he closes in on his suicide.  Othello asks why should honour outlive honesty?[121]  I.e., why should he – honour – outlive Desdemona – honesty?   Shakespeare continues Othello’s misplaced-honour-infused self-righteousness.

            Lodovico          O thou Othello that was once so good,

                                    Fall’n in the practice of a damned slave,

                                    What shall be said to thee?

            Othello                                     Why, any thing:

                                    An honourable murderer, if you will;

                                    For naught I did in hate, but all in honour.[122]

            Though Othello is in custody and guarded and will be tried by the state of Venice, he has other designs.  Just before he kills himself, Shakespeare has Othello have out with exculpatory excuses as he still sees himself as honourable.  Othello asks his guards to ensure they report his true nature to the Venetian authorities and they should speak

                                    Of one not that lov’d not wisely, but too well;

                                    Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought

                                    Perplexed in the extreme;

                                                            _____________

                                                                                                  [He stabs himself.]

                                                                        No way but this –

                                    Killing my self, to die upon a kiss. [123] [Falls on the bed and dies.]

It is clear Shakespeare, to the end, gave Othello misplaced views about his honour, misplaced motives for doing what he did and misplaced, self-righteous excuses. True, Shakespeare does have Othello understand he was beguiled by Iago when he calls himself earlier O fool! Fool! Fool!  but that’s the extent of Othello’s little self-awareness. The heaping coals of guilt on Othello’s head must have been heavy; perhaps, equal – more or less – to Goneril’s guilt.  To Goneril’s guilt, Shakespeare adds shame.  Shakespeare adds no shame to Othello’s guilt.  Othello feels none; guilt yes, but no shame.  Though Shakespeare has Othello think himself an honourable person and everything Othello undertook was done out of honour, Shakespeare doesn’t see it that way.  This can be confirmed in short order: 1) nobody laments for Othello’s death, not like Cassius’s suicide, 2) nobody says Othello shall receive a funeral, not like Antony and Cleopatra and 3) Othello doesn’t receive a proper burial, unlike what Brutus is afforded.

Those overt omissions by Shakespeare speak volumes as to how he really, truly, viewed Othello’s suicide.  And don’t forget, Othello’s suicide was Shakespeare’s invention – he could have writ it any way he wanted.  This was the way he wanted it. 

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

The micro-statement from Othello, on balance, is thus: Othello’s ignominious suicide was based on 1) guilt brought on by his own actions and 2) undertaken to escape accountability.  Shakespeare’s macro-statement on Othello’s suicide seems to be that a suicide undertaken to escape accountability brought on by guilt but one that is not accompanied by shame could likely be viewed, full stop, as a dishonourable suicide.  Such a suicide is not worthy of lamentations, a funeral or proper burial.

Cymbeline, c. 1609

            In Cymbeline, Shakespeare briefly mentions the prevailing view in 17th century England that suicide was prohibited by divine Christian doctrine.  Imogen, after asking Pisanio to kill her and hearing his refusal, says it is only because there is a prohibition against self-killing that she does not kill herself.

Imogen                               Look!

I draw the sword myself; take it, and hit

The innocent mansion of my love, my heart…

Pisanio                         Hence, vile instrument!

Thou shalt not damn my hand.

Imogen                         Why, I must die;

And if I do not by thy hand, thou art

No servant of thy master’s.  Against self-slaughter

There is a prohibition so divine

That cravens my weak hand.  Come, here’s my heart – [124]

Imogen doesn’t kill herself; Pisanio doesn’t kill her either. In another reference, Shakespeare has the Queen with horror, madly dying, like her life; which being cruel to the world, concluded most cruel to herself and so, despairing, died.[125]

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

Very little. Shakespeare is just alluding to the fact 17th century Christian – ‘divine’ –  doctrine prohibited self-slaughter.

Richard III, c. 1593

            A brief allusion to suicide is dialogued between Richard, Duke of Gloucester – before he’s king – and Lady Anne, widow of Prince Edward, son of Henry VI; Shakespeare has both Edward and Henry murdered byRichard in King Henry VI Part 3.  Here, Lady Anne is accompanying Henry VI’s corpse and its funeral train towards his burial.  Richard stops the procession and starts to hit on Lady Anne; she accuses Richard of the murders; Richard thinks he should be excused of the crimes.[126]

                        Richard            Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

                                                Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

                        Anne                Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make

                                                No excuse current but to hang thyself.

                        Richard             By such despair I should accuse myself.

                        Anne                And by despairing shalt thou stand excused

                                                For doing worthy vengeance on thyself

                                                That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.[127]

            If Richard takes Lady Anne up on her suggestion he hang himself, Richard says if he does that, thereby showing his despair, that would accuse himself of being a self-murderer. Not to worry says Anne, in such a case you will be excused from your own murder for doing worthy vengeance on yourself because you killed others.  If this were a critique on literary construction a fulsome discussion could take place about the ease with which Shakespeare, seamlessly, changes the multiple and different deaths that ‘accuse’ and ‘excuse’ refer to. And that’s only about half the exchange.  When Shakespeare’s intellect gets discussed To be or not to be, Friends Romans Countrymen, All the world’s a stage, etc, are usually trotted out.  However, sometimes overlooked is the construction of lesser-known passages, as above, that show his true genius.  But back to suicide.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

            Like the brief references in Cymbeline, Shakespeare throws this quick dialogue about self-murder into his characters’ discourse because it fit what he was writing. Correctly, he alludes to the fact self-murder in 17th century England was commonly viewed to be brought on by despair and if the death was brought to a coroner’s inquest the deceased would be formally accused of the crime of self-murder.  Lady Anne’s little dig about Richard being excused for his self-murder is Shakespeare having fun as he played on words.

Venus and Adonis, c. 1593

            The brief passage

                        So in thyself thyself art made away –

                        A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife,

                        Or theirs whose desperate hand themselves slay[128]

fit what Shakespeare was writing; he’s plainly stating a commonly-held belief that some suicides are committed by desperate individuals.

Much Ado About Nothing, c. 1597  

            As in Venus and Adonis, Shakespeare makes another brief mention of the belief suicide – or possibly self-harm – can come by way of a desperate hand:

                                    the ecstasy hath so much

overborne her that my daughter is some-

time afeard she will do a desperate outrage

to herself.[129]

All’s Well That Ends Well, c. 1604

            Parolles and Helena are having a comical, jesting battle of wits about the usefulness, or non-, of virginity.  Parolles takes the position virginity is useless, goes against nature and a virgin is actually a self-murderer that hangs themselves:

                                    He that hangs himself is a virgin; virginity

                                    murders itself, and should be buried in

                                    highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a 

                                    desperate offendress against nature.[130]

            This reference to suicide being equal to virginity, besides being brilliant, was written strictly as literary creation fitting what Shakespeare was writing.  Shakespeare alludes to the fact self-murderers in the 17th century were buried out near the highway, near a crossroad, and outside of sanctified limit.  Comically, Shakespeare says virgins should be buried out at the highway, too, along with the self-murderers.  Kinda genius, comparing suicide – ending life – to virginity – not creating life – without offending members of either group.

The Rape of Lucrece, c. 1594

            The Rape of Lucrece is perhaps one of Shakespeare’s lesser known – and under-appreciated – works which is unfortunate because it contains some of Shakespeare’s best verse.  Lucrece is one of Shakespeare’s narrative poems – a story, written in verse, using various voices such as a narrator and characters, but without lines specially attributed to those characters, like a play; a narrative poem is just that – a poem that narrates a story.

Invention or Historical Suicide

            Historical, or maybe, quasi-historical, or perhaps, maybe-historical, or better yet, maybe-not. Lucretia, aka, Lucrece, and her ‘story’ is set in the monarchical days of pre-Republic Rome, around 510-509 BC.   She is, according to Roman tradition, said to have lived in Rome when Rome was ruled by its final king, Lucius Tarquinius Superbus. The earliest surviving accounts of Lucrece’s life comes from Roman historian, Livy and Ovid, the Roman poet – both writing approximately 500 years after her lifetime. It is therefore somewhat wise to view some of the details of her life cautiously given the time gap. 

Number Of Suicides – 1

            Lucrece – stabs herself.

The Backstory

            Lucrece’s husband, Collatine, a nobleman in the king’s army, was sent to besiege the city of Ardea; also part of the army was the king’s son, Sextus Tarquinius (Tarquin).  During a night off from the fighting – even soldiers need time off – some of the men start boasting of their wives’ virtues.  Collatine says his wife is beautiful and chaste, i.e., well-behaved.  The men decided to see whose wife was the worthiest.  After visiting each soldier’s home, Lucrece was given the victory: late at night she was spinning wool in her house while other wives were out dancing and reveling.  The king’s son, Tarquin, was especially taken by her beauty.

Shakespeare, in his Argument – his backstory before he gets to the narrative part of the poem proper – lays it out succinctly:

…Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatine the victory, and his wife the fame.  At that time Tarquin, being inflamed with Lucrece’s beauty, yet smothering his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and was (according to his estate) royally entertained and lodged by Lucrece at Collatium.  The same night he treacherously stealeth into her chamber, violently ravish’d her, and early in the morning speedeth away.  Lucrece, in this lamentable plight, hastily dispatcheth  messengers, one to Rome for her father, another to the camp for Collatine.  They came, the one accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius; and, finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her sorrow.  She, first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the actor and whole manner of his dealing, and withal suddenly stabbed herself.[131] 

Her bloody body was then mournfully carried through the streets of Rome.  So outraged were the Roman citizens, the king, his family and son were exiled – banished forever.  With the monarchy overthrown, thus was born the Roman Republic.

Peering Into Shakespeare’s Mind

                        Into the chamber wickedly he stalks, 365

                        And gazeth on her yet unstained bed.

                        The curtains being close, about he walks,

                        Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head.

Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue, 407
A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,
Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew,
And him by oath they truly honoured.

                        ‘Lucrece,’ quoth he, ‘this night I must enjoy thee. 512

                        She conjures him by high almighty Jove, 568

                        By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship’s oath,

                        By her untimely tears, her husband’s love,

                        By holy human law, and common troth,

                        By heaven and earth, and all the power of both,

                        That to his borrowed bed he make retire,           

                        And stoop to honour, not to foul desire.

‘No more,’ quoth he; ‘by heaven, I will not hear thee! 667
Yield to my love; if not, enforced hate,
Instead of love’s coy touch, shall rudely tear thee;

Shakespeare has Lucrece invoke Jove, knighthood, heaven and earth when she pleads for him to leave.   Tarquin has none of it and if she fights back, he will kill her.  What is Lucrece to do?  Fight back and lose her life?  What would you do?

For with the nightly linen that she wears  680
He pens her piteous clamours in her head;
Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears
That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed.
O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed!
The spots whereof could weeping purify,
Her tears should drop on them perpetually.

            And thus, so occurs the rape of Lucrece. Shakespeare’s first line after the rape says all:

                        But she hath lost a dearer thing than life 687

            Shakespeare first describes the scene then methodically, sequentially, let’s the reader into Lucrece’s thoughts.

He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence, 736
She like a wearied lamb lies panting there;
He scowls and hates himself for his offence,
She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear.

‘O comfort-killing Night, image of hell! 764
Dim register and notary of shame!
Black stage for tragedies and murders fell!
Vast sin-concealing chaos! nurse of blame!
Blind muffled bawd! dark harbour for defame!
Grim cave of death! whisp’ring conspirator
With close-tongu’d treason and the ravisher!

            In a relatively short period of time, though Tarquin has wronged her, Lucrece thinks she has wronged her husband.

‘Let my good name, that senseless reputation, 820
For Collatine’s dear love be kept unspotted;

She equates the rape with her reputation being tarnished and because her good name reflects on Collatine his name also is now tarnished.

‘O unseen shame! invisible disgrace! 827
O unfelt sore! crest-wounding, private scar!
Reproach is stamp’d in Collatinus’ face,

‘If, Collatine, thine honour lay in me, 834
From me by strong assault it is bereft.
My honour lost, and I, a drone-like bee,
Have no perfection of my summer left,
But robb’d and ransack’d by injurious theft.
In thy weak hive a wand’ring wasp hath crept,
And suck’d the honey which thy chaste bee kept.

‘Yet am I guilty of thy honour’s wrack – 841

            Shakespeare here, as he does elsewhere, gives honour a fluid characteristic, insofar as the behaviour, virtue, honour of one character is freely transferrable, like a blood transfusion, to another.  In this case, the taint of honour in one character is wholly transfused into the character/being of another.  Here, Shakespeare has Lucrece dreading that:  the notion that her dishonour will fully transfer to her husband and now he will be seen as dishonourable too.  And with that transfusion of dishonour into Collatine, Lucrece’s shame sets in.  She would do anything to be able to get a chance at a re-do.  But since she cannot rewind time, her curses must suffice. 

‘O, this dread night, wouldst thou one hour come back, 965

I could prevent this storm, and shun thy wrack!

‘Thou ceaseless lackey to Eternity, 967
With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight;
Devise extremes beyond extremity
To make him curse this cursed crimeful night;
Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright,
And the dire thought of his committed evil
Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil.

‘Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances, 974
Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans;
Let there bechance him pitiful mischances
To make him moan, but pity not his moans.
Stone him with hard’ned hearts harder than stones;
And let mild women to him lose their mildness,
Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness.

‘O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, 995
Teach me to curse him that thou taught’st this ill!
At his own shadow let the thief run mad,
Himself himself seek every hour to kill!
Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill;

            Methodically, one by one, Shakespeare goes through events chronologically: in her own eyes, after being forcibly raped, Lucrece’s sees her honour as sullied, this in turn tarnishes her husband’s honour, and because she is responsible for her husband’s stained reputation, Lucrece is guilt and shame-ridden; anger sets in and she starts cursing Tarquin and hopes he kills himself.  But then she realizes empty words, her above cursing, will do no good.

‘Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools! 1016
Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators!
Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools,
Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters;
To trembling clients be you mediators.
For me, I force not argument a straw,
Since that my case is past the help of law.

This helpless smoke of words doth me no right. 1027
The remedy indeed to do me good
Is to let forth my foul-defiled blood.

The wrong, so profound, can only be remedied by suicide.

‘Poor hand, why quiver’st thou at this decree? 1030
Honour thyself to rid me of this shame;
For if I die, my honour lives in thee,
But if I live, thou liv’st in my defame.
Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame,
And wast afeard to scratch her wicked foe,
Kill both thyself and her for yielding so.’

Hand, why do you start at the thought of restoring Lucrece’s honour? Genius. 

‘In vain,’ quoth she, ‘I live, and seek in vain 1044
Some happy mean to end a hapless life.
I fear’d by Tarquin’s falchion *sword*  to be slain,
Yet for the self-same purpose seek a knife;
But when I fear’d I was a loyal wife;
So am I now – O no, that cannot be;
Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me.

Shakespeare can’t let Lucrece fail to see the ironic hindsight of the situation: she begged not to be raped but death at the end of Tarquin’s sword if she did not submit to him would be worse; now, she seeks a like-weapon so she can, in fact, die by killing herself.

‘O, that is gone for which I sought to live, 1051
And therefore now I need not fear to die.
To clear this spot by death, at least I give
A badge of fame to slander’s livery;
A dying life to living infamy.
Poor helpless help, the treasure stol’n away,
To burn the guiltless casket where it lay!

            Because the reason she lived – to be a loyal wife – is gone and can never return, there is no reason to fear death and, in fact, if she does kill herself it will clear the tarnished spot on her reputation. 

‘Well, well, dear Collatine, thou shalt not know 1058
The stained taste of violated troth;
I will not wrong thy true affection so
To flatter thee with an infringed oath;
This bastard graff shall never come to growth;
He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute
That thou art doting father of his fruit.

‘For me, I am the mistress of my fate, 1069
And with my trespass never will dispense,
Till life to death acquit my forc’d offence.        

Only death will acquit Lucrece of her offence; she will not afflict Collatine with her tainted reputation. 

‘I will not poison thee with my attaint, 1072
Nor fold my fault in cleanly coin’d excuses;
My sable ground of sin I will not paint
To hide the truth of this false night’s abuses.
My tongue shall utter all;

Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words; 1105
Sometime ‘tis mad and too much talk affords.

To live or die which of the twain were better, 1154
When life is sham’d, and death reproach’s debtor.

            Shakespeare then begins Lucrece’s rational and critical thinking on the matter, reasoning it through. 

‘To kill myself,’ quoth she, ‘alack, what were it, 1156
But with my body my poor soul’s pollution?
They that lose half with greater patience bear it
Than they whose whole is swallowed in confusion.
That mother tries a merciless conclusion
Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one,
Will slay the other and be nurse to none.

Lucrece sees her body as polluted after the rape; her body, half of herself, half her ‘being.’  The other half, her soul, is not yet polluted.  However, if she kills herself she thinks her soul will become polluted as well – a common notion in 17th century England.

‘My body or my soul, which was the dearer, 1163
When the one pure, the other made divine?
Whose love of either to myself was nearer,
When both were kept for heaven and Collatine?
Ay me! The bark peel’d from the lofty pine,
His leaves will wither and his sap decay;
So must my soul, her bark being peel’d away.

            There’s nothing for it: her body has been mortally injured and in due course not only will her body decay, but her soul will also, eventually, if she lives.

‘Her house is sack’d, her quiet interrupted, 1170
Her mansion batter’d by the enemy;
Her sacred temple spotted, spoil’d, corrupted,
Grossly engirt with daring infamy;
Then let it not be call’d impiety,
If in this blemish’d fort I make some hole
Through which I may convey this troubled soul.

            Because her sacred temple body has been breached she must let her soul escape – by suicide; surely such a motive will not be seen as impious, i.e., a sin against the church, and therefore, Lucrece reasons, her soul won’t actually be seen as polluted if she kills herself.

‘Yet die I will not till my Collatine 1177
Have heard the cause of my untimely death;

‘My honour I’ll bequeath unto the knife 1184
That wounds my body so dishonoured.
‘Tis honour to deprive dishonour’d life:
The one will live, the other being dead.
So of shame’s ashes shall my fame be bred;
For in my death I murder shameful scorn.
My shame so dead, mine honour is new-born.

‘Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will. 1205
How was I overseen that thou shalt see it!
My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill;
My life’s foul deed, my life’s fair end shall free it.
Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say “So be it”.
Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee;
Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.

Tis honour to deprive dishonoured life. After thinking different aspects through – honour, dishonour, shame, cursing, polluted souls – Lucrece asks a messenger to entreat her husband home.  The messenger and husband return home.                                 

But now the mindful messenger, come back, 1583
Brings home his lord and other company;
Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black

Which when her sad-beholding husband saw, 1590
Amazedly in her sad face he stares:
Her eyes, though sod in tears, look’d red and raw,
Her lively colour kill’d with deadly cares.
He hath no power to ask her how she fares;
Both stood, like old acquaintance in a trance,
Met far from home, wond’ring each other’s chance.

            That – those few above lines – is what makes Shakespeare, Shakespeare. For almost 1600 or so lines, the reader mourned with Lucrece and felt her pain; in those seven, Shakespeare brings the reader full-force right into the middle of the room where Collatine and Lucrece stare at each other. 

At last he takes her by the bloodless hand, 1597
And thus begins: ‘What uncouth ill event
Hath thee befall’n, that thou dost trembling stand?
Sweet love, what spite hath thy fair colour spent?
Why art thou thus attir’d in discontent?
Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness,
And tell thy grief, that we may give redress.’

Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire, 1604
Ere once she can discharge one word of woe;

And now this pale swan in her wat’ry nest 1611
Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending.

‘Then be this all the task it hath to say: 1618
Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed
A stranger came, and on that pillow lay
Where thou was wont to rest thy weary head;
And what wrong else may be imagined
By foul enforcement might be done to me,
From that, alas, thy Lucrece is not free.

‘For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight, 1625
With shining falchion in my chamber came
A creeping creature, with a flaming light,
And softly cried “Awake, thou Roman dame,
And entertain my love; else lasting shame
On thee and thine this night I will inflict,
If thou my love’s desire do contradict.

‘“For some hard-favour’d groom of thine,” quoth he, 1632
“Unless thou yoke thy liking to my will,
I’ll murder straight, and then I’ll slaughter thee,
And swear I found you where you did fulfil
The loathsome act of lust, and so did kill
The lechers in their deed: this act will be
My fame and thy perpetual infamy.”

‘With this, I did begin to start and cry, 1639
And then against my heart he sets his sword,
Swearing, unless I took all patiently,
I should not live to speak another word.
So should my shame still rest upon record,
And never be forgot in mighty Rome
Th’ adulterate death of Lucrece and her groom.

‘But ere I name him, you fair lords,’ quoth she, 1688
Speaking to those that came with Collatine,
‘Shall plight your honourable faiths to me
With swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine;
For ‘tis a meritorious fair design
To chase injustice with revengeful arms:
Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies’ harms.’

            Lucrece, before she identifies the rapist, demands revenge against her assailant.  All the knights do so swear. 

At this request, with noble disposition 1695
Each present lord began to promise aid,
As bound in knighthood to her imposition,
Longing to hear the hateful foe bewray’d.
But she, that yet her sad task hath not said,
The protestation stops. ‘O, speak,’ quoth she,
‘How may this forced stain be wiped from me?

‘What is the quality of mine offence, 1702
Being constrain’d with dreadful circumstance?
May my pure mind with the foul act dispense,
My low-declined honour to advance?
May any terms acquit me from this chance?
The poisoned fountain clears itself again;
And why not I from this compelled stain?’

Troubling, and still of concern, to Lucrece is her view that her stained honour will not be wiped clean or restored even if the crime is avenged and justice sought.  Shakespeare poses the conundrum: how does revenge help Lucrece?

With this, they all at once began to say 1709
Her body’s stain her mind untainted clears;
While with a joyless smile she turns away
The face, that map which deep impression bears
Of hard misfortune, carv’d in it with tears.
‘No, no,’ quoth she, ‘no dame, hereafter living,
By my excuse shall claim excuse’s giving.’

Lucrece is comforted by hearing that as long as her mind was against this crime that in itself wipes clean her body’s taint.  That’s all well and good for the men to say, but Lucrece is likely coming at it from a different perspective, which Shakespeare further develops.

Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break, 1716
She throws forth Tarquin’s name: ‘He, he,’ she says,
But more than ‘he’ her poor tongue could not speak;
Till after many accents and delays,
Untimely breathings, sick and short assays,
She utters this: ‘He, he, fair lords, ‘tis he,
That guides this hand to give this wound to me.’

            Lucrece has two ounces of energy left:  one, spent on mustering the emotional strength to name her attacker and the second, the physical strength to commit suicide. 

Even here she sheathed in her harmless breast  1723
A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheathed.
That blow did bail it from the deep unrest
Of that polluted prison where it breathed.
Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeathed
Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly
Life’s lasting date from cancell’d destiny.

Stone-still, astonish’d with deadly deed 1730

Stood Collatine and all his lordly crew;

Who was it that said Shakespeare had the largest and most comprehensive soul…when he describes any thing, you more than see it, you feel it too? Whoever it was, it is almost certain he had just finished reading this; after reading Shakespeare’s dialogue painstakingly depicting Lucrece plunge a knife into her breast allowing her unpolluted soul to escape through the knife-hole.

Shakespeare makes clear, contrary to contemporary views, Lucrece’s soul will not be seen as polluted because of her suicide after all; unpolluted, her soul is freed from her polluted body as Lucrece’s last breaths bequeath it to the clouds. Collatine, overcome with immediate grief, is chastised that if he kills himself on the sudden that will be no revenge on Lucrece’s rapist at all. 

‘Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe? 1821
Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds?
Is it revenge to give thyself a blow
For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds?

‘Now by the Capitol that we adore, 1835
And by this chaste blood so unjustly stained,
By heaven’s fair sun that breeds the fat earth’s store,
By all our country rights in Rome maintained,
And by chaste Lucrece’ soul that late complained
Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife,
We will revenge the death of this true wife.’

After her rape and after her death, Lucrece’s soul is still viewed as chaste, worthy of revenge.

When they had sworn to this advised doom, 1849
They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence,
To show her bleeding body thorough Rome,
And so to publish Tarquin’s foul offence;
Which being done with speedy diligence,
The Romans plausibly did give consent
To Tarquin’s everlasting banishment.

With proper and high order was Lucrece funeralled through the streets of Rome; showing her bloody body, not hiding her offence and thus exposing her perpetrator. Sequentially, Shakespeare has Lucrece divulge her inner most thoughts allowing the reader to reach the furthest stretches of her mind: her chastity, her pleading against the crime, dishonour, guilt, shame, cursing the rapist, suicide is the remedy, but will it cast a further stain on her husband, suicide is the only cure to restore honour, ensuring revenge, eventual suicide, death of life, honour re-born.  Lucrece did not go about things hastily; Shakespeare thought it through. 

If Shakespeare’s The Rape of Lucrece doesn’t make a reader feel something maybe feeling emotion through reading words just isn’t their thing. 

Motive

‘My honour I’ll bequeath unto the knife
That wounds my body so dishonoured.

Tis honour to deprive dishonoured life.

The one will live, the other being dead.
So of shame’s ashes shall my fame be bred;
For in my death I murder shameful scorn.
My shame so dead, mine honour is new-born.

            I.e., restoring honour while killing dishonour; honour new-born.

Shakespeare’s Statement On Suicide

It is honour to deprive – kill – dishonoured life.  Suicide is capable of restoring lost honour. Lucrece, for Shakespeare, is the noblest of noble suicides.  He views none nobler.  And noble suicides are worthy suicides; worthy suicides are rational suicides; rational suicides are neither sins nor crimes.

And so ends what Shakespeare mostly had to say about suicide.  Which was a lot and very instructive. There is more but it’s not much – just one play.

SDRP


[1] Her person – not her persona – is loosely, very loosely, based on the historical Scottish queen, Gruoch (1005-?).

[2] 5.1.57-59, 1022.

[3] 5.1.74, 1022.

[4] Othello will be analysed hereafter.

[5] 5.5.19-27, 1024-1025.

[6] There is one additional passage concerning suicide but it has nothing to do with Lady Macbeth’s.  After Macbeth realizes everything is lost – his crown, his rule, his army, his supporters, his castle, his wife – he wonders whether he should kill himself or keep fighting to the death: 5.8.1-3, 1026. 

[7] The Newly Discovered History of Two Noble Lovers.

[8] For source lineage see David Bevington, “Shakespeare’s Sources”, in William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, ed. David Bevington (Bantam Publishing, 1988), 127-129

[9] Chorus, 1-2, 902.

[10] 1.5.50-51, 910.

[11] 1.5.1232-133, 911.

[12] 1.5.136, 911.

[13] 5.1.60-62, 934.

[14] 5.3.112-120, 936.

[15] 5.3.163-166, 937.

[16] 5.3.168-169, 937.

[17] 5.3.304-309, 939.

[18] 3.3.43-46, 923.

[19] 3.3.105-118, 924.

[20] 3.5.197-202, 928.

[21] 3.5. 243, 928.

[22] 4.1.52-67, 929.

[23] Romeo and Juliet, 5.1.27-52, 934.

[24] Lois Potter, Introduction, in William Shakespeare, The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Lois Potter, The Arden Shakespeare, The Two Noble Kinsmen, Revised Edition (Bloomsbury, 2015), 1, 51

[25] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 1.1.40-42, 184.

[26] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 1.1.49-50, 184.

[27] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 1.1.139-145, 191-192.

[28] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 3.2.29-33, 262.

[29] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 3.4.13, 268.

[30] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 4.1.94-99, 305-306.

[31] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 4.3.3-5, 321.

[32] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 4.3.33-38, 323.

[33] The Two Noble Kinsmen, ed. Potter, 5.2.109, 348.

[34] King John, 4.3.125-134, 438. The Bastard suggests to Hubert if he wants to kill himself it would take very little means to do so.

[35] 3.4.17-35, 430.

[36] 3.4.36-60, 430.

[37] 3.4.61-106, 430-431.

[38] King John, 4.2.119-124, 435.

[39] Stanley Wells, et al, William Shakespeare: a textual companion (Oxford University Press, 1987), 100-107.

[40] 4.3.20-21, 958.

[41] 4.3.52-57, 958.

[42] 4.3.373-377, 962.

[43] 4.3.527-530, 964.

[44] 5.1.183-186, 966.

[45] 4.3.33-44, 958.

[46] 4.3.379-389, 962.

[47] 4.3.463-464, 963.

[48] 5.1.195-200, 966. 

[49] Timon of Athens, 5.1.203-210, 967.

[50] Timon of Athens, 5.1.212-221, 967.

[51] Timon of Athens, 5.4.70-73, 968.

[52] 5.4.79-80, 968.

[53] 1.1.134, 199.

[54] 5.1. 306-309, 221.

[55] 5.1. 343-338, 221.

[56] 3.2.381-387, 213.

[57] 1.2.18-19, 201.

[58] 1.1.54-58, 1074.

[59] 1.1.86-92, 1074.

[60] 1.1. 280-281, 1076.

[61] 4.2.30-31, 1100.

[62] King Lear, 4.2.59, 1100.

[63] 5.3.230-232, 1111.

[64] 3.7.90-91, 1098.

[65] 4.1.19-20, 1099.

[66] 4.1.72-80, 1099.

[67]4.6.34-41, 1103.

[68] 4.6.75-77, 1103.

[69] 4.6.219-221, 1105.

[70] 5.2.9-10, 1108.

[71] 2.2.32-37, 980.

[72] 2.3.1-6, 981.

[73] 3.1.76-83, 983.

[74] 4.3.150-155, 992.

[75] 5.3.36-46, 996.

[76] 5.3.80-84, 997.

[77] Julius Caesar, 5.5.44-51, 998.

[78] Plutarch’s Lives, also known as Parallel Lives, was more biography than history; it is thought to be one of Shakespeare’s main sources for Julius Caesar.  Plutarch (c.46-120AD), possibly having access to historical writings of Messala, suggests the night before the first Battle of Philippi – 03 October 42 BC – Cassius invites Messala to dine with him the following night, which would have been Cassius’s birthday.  However, Cassius never makes it through the next day, his birthday; the next evening – the day of the battle, his birthday – Cassius kills himself.

[79] 5.1.70-75, 995.

[80] 5.3.23-25, 996.

[81] 5.1.92-107, 995.

[82] 5.1.107-114, 995.

[83] 5.3.34-35, 996.

[84] 5.3.66-71, 997.

[85] 5.3.87-90, 997.

[86] 5.3.98-103, 997.

[87] 5.4.19-23, 997.

[88] 5.5.23-42, 998.

[89] 5.5.53-57, 998.

[90] 5.5.68-81, 998.

[91] 3.6.66-67, 1175.

[92] 3.11.51-68, 1178.

[93] 3.11.70-71, 1178.

[94] 3.13.173-188, 1181.

[95] 4.12.9-36, 1186.

[96] 4.14.18-19, 1187.

[97] 4.13.7-10, 1187.

[98] 4.6.37-39, 1184.

[99] 4.9.11-23, 1185.

[100] 4.14.21-22, 1187.

[101] 4.14.55-60, 1187-1188.

[102] 4.14.85-103, 1188.

[103] 4.15.13-17, 1189.

[104] Julius Caesar, 5.5.56-57, 998.

[105] 4.15.51-59, 1189-1190.

[106] 4.15.59-88, 1190.

[107] 5.1.19-28, 1190.

[108] 5.1.40-48, 1191.

[109] 5.2.1-5, 1191.

[110]5.2.246-247, 1194. Brilliant.  Fully brilliant.  There is a full paragraph thereafter that furthers the joke which is sometimes lost given the seriousness of the entire suicidal scene.

[111] 5.2.281-286, 1195. 

[112] 5.2.298-304, 1195. 

[113] 5.2.342-343, 1195. Shakespeare correctly identifies the classic physical vestiges of poisoning, swelling, as viewed by 17th century observers: see Macdonald and Murphy, Sleepless Souls, 226-227.

[114] 5.2.350-363, 1196. 

[115] 1.3.303-329, 1121.

[116] 1.3. 333-359, 1121-1122.

[117] 3.3.392-394, 1136.

[118] 3.4.160-164, 1139.

[119] 4.1.200-207, 1142.

[120] 5.2.16-22, 1149.

[121] 5.2.248, 1152.

[122] 5.2.294-298, 1153.

[123] 5.2. 347-362, 1153.

[124] 3.4.64-76, 1216.

[125] 5.5.31-33, 1233; 60, 1234. There is also a passage at 5.5.213, 1235, listing methods.

[126] Works identifies Richard as Gloucester; this excerpt uses Richard.

[127] 1.2.81-87, 704.

[128] Venus and Adonis, lines 763-765, 1278.

[129] Much Ado About Nothing, 2.3.138-140, 147.

[130] All’s Well That Ends Well, 1.1. 131-134, 317.

[131] The Rape of Lucrece, The Argument, 1284.