MACHIAVELLIANISM REAL AND ROMANTIC ON THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE.

by

BEATRICE CHRISTINA PER NE YHOUGH, B.' A.

A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OP THE REQUIREMENTS POR

THE DEGREE OP

MASTER OP ARTS
i n the Department
of
English

We accept t h i s t h e s i s as conforming to the

standard required from candidates f o r the
degree of MASTER OP ARTS.

Members ,of the Department of

English

THE UNIVERSITY OP BRITISH COLUMBIA

1953
 NOTE

Two "Abstracts" are sent with the f i r s t copy

of t h i s t h e s i s , the four-page one apparently
the e a r l i e r , the single-page one (lacking f o r
the second copy) an i n s e r t .

Considering them t o be, as i t were, Leonora

and F i d e l i o overtures, we are retaining both.

Library, U.B.C.
December 4, 1953
 ABSTRACT

An examination of the works of Machiavelli makes clear

that the s i n i s t e r figure "bearing his name i n the drama of E l i z a -
bethan England i s a caricature or romanticized version of the
p o l i t i c i a n discussed i n The Prince. Further, a review of English
history from the f i f t e e n t h to the seventeenth centuries reveals
that the Tudor monarchs and their ministers were governed i n
t h e i r p o l i c i e s by the precepts for rulers outlined by Machia-
v e l l i and that i n i t i a l l y the works of Machiavelli were read
with interest and retained for reference by many of the leading
scholars and statesmen. Denunciations of the Machiavellian
thesis early arose, however, from the ranks of the Catholic
reformers. The concept of the devil-possessed figure that
played so prominent a part i n the drama derives, i t therefore
appears, not from E n g l i s h innocence of craft i n p o l i t i c s , but
from the misrepresentation of Machiavelli's thesis by the
spokesmen of the Catholic counter-reformation. Picked up by
p o l i t i c a l pamphleteers, this perverse and f a s c i n a t i n g character
was seized upon by the palywrights and became the prototype of
p o l i t i c a l v i l l a i n y . Marlowe, the f i r s t playwright to r e f l e c t the
influence of Machiavelli, e x p l i c i t l y offers Barabas i n the
Jew of Malta as a Machiavellian and a d i a b o l i c a l v i l l a i n ; and
i n Tamburlane, Faustus and Edward II gives other evidence of
r e a c t i o n to the prevalent interest i n the theories of the
I t a l i a n thinker.
j

The understanding of princely power as Machiavelli

a c t u a l l y conceived i t i s demonstrated by Ben Jonson i n Se.nanus
and i n C a t i l i n e . . but pre-eminently by Shakespeare i n his
h i s t o r i c a l plays and i n Coriolanus. Of the true Machiavellians
on the Elizabethan stage, Richard, Duke of York, portrays hom who
by his own a b i l i t i e s overcomes great odds to win power; Henry IV
f u l f i l s the demands l a i d upon the prince who achieves power by
the a i d of others and retains i t by force and cunning; and
Henry V epitomizes the astute and popular prince who s k i l f u l l y
enhances the power and prestige of himself and his country by
his virtues both as a warrior and as a statesman. In the dialogue
of Volumnia i n Coriolanus i s paraphrased the essence of the
famous eighteenth chapter of The Prince.

\
 ABSTRACT

The Machiavellian v i l l a i n has long been the sub-

ject of discussion among c r i t i c s of the Elizabethan
drama. This essay attempts to analyse with some
precision evidence from history and the drama of the
relationship of the l i t e r a r y to the real p o l i t i c a l
figure. It attempts to indicate the answer to the
questions: In what way does the sinister stage
personality symbolize the real experience of the
Elizabethans ? What i s the relationship of this
character to that of the prince delineated by
Machiavelli ?
Niccolo Machiavelli, whose name has been attach-
ed to the typical sixteenth century unscrupulous
and diabolically cunning cloak and dagger murderer
and politician was i n fact the founder of modern
p o l i t i c a l science. He was a responsible and esteemed
servant of the foremost city state of his time i n
Italy, and his theses on princely rule and on the
principles underlying republican government have
established themselves as texts i n the courses of
s
>.>
'l
universities. It would appear, then, that the Machia-
vellian of the Elizabethan stage requires some explain-
ing.
An examination of the history of English govern-
ment during the late fifteenth and the sixteenth cen-
turies reveals that the practice of the kings and c 4 -
chief ministers of England was governed by the precepts
on power that Machiavelli so b r i l l i a n t l y set forth i n
his writings; and'investigation of the popular react-
ion to the practices he exposed makes clear that i t
took a sharp turn toward the close of the sixteenth
century, when the bogey of Machiavellian v i l l a i n y
asserted Itself i n England, appearing i n i t s most
spectacular form i n the plays of the last two decades
of that century and the f i r s t decade of the seventeenth.
It becomes apparent from a consideration of the
facts of history and of the record of public opinion
that the Machiavellian v i l l a i n epitomized the fear
of the ambitious Individual experienced by a des-
potism faced on two sides by a threat to i t s claim to
absolute power; and that the menace that threatened
the Tudors from the reactionary nobility on the one
hand and from the upstart merchant aristocracy on
the other found dramatic expression i n the extravagant,
ruthless, self-seeking v i l l a i n who inevitably was
characterized by the name of the theoretician of that
absolute princely rule by which alone the confusions
of the end of the medieval era could be resolved into
a new and more advanced order of society. Such para-
doxes are not unknown i n history.
The great dramas of Elizabethan England present
not only the Machiavellian Barabas, the prototype for
a l l subsequent villains i n the cloak and dagger
tradition, they present al so such figures as Richard,
-i

Duke of York, Henry IV, Henry V and the b r i l l i a n t

dialogue of Volumnia In Coriolanus» proofs, every one
of them, that the sound p o l i t i c a l science of Machia-
v e l l i upon which the Tudor monarchs built their i n -
stitutions and formulated their laws also reached the
people through the stage, although these latter
characterizations were not associated tfithc the name
of Machiavelli.
The conclusion arrived at from a careful exami-
nation of a selected number of plays by Marlowe, Jonson
and Shakespeare i s that the true Machiavellian prince
was most effectively represented i n drama by the great
princes i n the historical plays of Shakespeare, and
particularly i n the figure of Henry V i n the play of
that name; and that the essence of the Machiavellian
thesis on The Prince was poetically most succinctly
and explicitly phrased i n the dialogue of Volumnla
i n Coriolanus.
 FOREWORD

The author wishes to make c l e a r to the reader that t h i s

t h e s i s i s presented as an i n t r o d u c t o r y d i s c u s s i o n of one
p o i n t of view on the subject of Machiavellianism and the
E l i z a b e t h a n Drama. To e s t a b l i s h the argument pursued i n
a f i n a l manner would r e q u i r e a much more exhaustive
examination of the plays and h i s t o r y of E l i z a b e t h a n
England than i s o f f e r e d here. The author hopes, however,
that the reasoning i s s u f f i c i e n t l y sound and the evidence
both from h i s t o r y and from drama p e r t i n e n t enough to
j u s t i f y t h e i r being placed before the reader f o r thought-
f u l consideration.
Perhaps I t would be wise at t h i s p o i n t also to emphasize
that the w r i t e r recognizes that the e s t i m a t i o n of the
p o l i t i c a l content of a p l a y i s but one of many l i n e s
along which t h i s form of l i t e r a r y a r t maybe evaluated.
The w r i t e r does not intend to imply that other values
are not present, or that many i n c i d e n t s discussed f o r
t h e i r s i g n i f i c a n c e i n r e l a t i o n to the thought of
M a c h i a v e l l i could not be evaluated i n other terms. One
of the features of any great work of a r t i s the many
angles from which i t may be discussed.
 C O N T E N T S

Foreword Page
Chapter I Machiavellianism; An understanding
of what M a c h i a v e l l i r e a l l y meant..... 1
The M a c h i a v e l l i a n i n E n g l i s h L i f e :
An examination of E n g l i s h h i s t o r y
Chapter I I f o r evidence of M a c h i a v e l l i a n p o l i c y
i n Tudor government 30

A n t i - M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s m : A review of
the development of h o s t i l i t y i n
Chapter I I I Sixteenth Century England.toward the
works of M a c h i a v e l l i 66

The Romantic I n t e r p r e t a t i o n : A d i s -
cussion of plays that set the p a t t e r n
Chapter IV f o r the M a c h i a v e l l i a n of the romantic
type 83

A demonstration that c e r t a i n E l i z a -
bethan stage characters not n e c e s s a r i l y
Chapter V branded as M a c h i a v e l l i a n "hold the
m i r r o r up" t o the true M a c h i a v e l l i a n . 128

Bibliography
 Chapter I.

Machiavellianism.

In a c r i t i c a l study of the influence of the thought

of Machiavelli on Elizabethan drama, the distinction must
be noted between the reactions of the Elizabethans who
gave expression to their understanding of Machiavelli, and
the point of view of the twentieth century commentator,
ffhe study must embody the writer s criticism both of the
f

thought of fflaohiavelli and of the criticism revealed in the

drama of the sixteenth century, for this reason, a brief
summary of the point of view of Machiavelli opens the dis-
cussion, and some space is devoted to an outline of the
politics of the English monarchs and chief ministers of six-
teenth century England, and to an examination of the opinions
expressed about Machiavelli by Elizabethan writers. Thus
the reader may pursue the subjeotjln possession of the writer^
understanding of the background against whioh the dramas
under review were written.
Machiavelli lived from 1469 to 1527. He was the son
of an impoverished Tuscan nobelman of ancient lineage, whose
 -2-

f a m i l y had f o r s e v e r a l g e n e r a t i o n s been l i v i n g i n i f l o r e n e e .

Members of the f a m i l y had h e l d p o s i t i o n s of importance and

i n f l u e n c e i n the government of the r e p b l i c of Florence;

A'

and over the y e a r s , the f a m i l y had become i d e n t i f i e d w i t h

the c i r c l e s of the n o b i l i t y who had abandoned the claims

of h e r e d i t y to take up common cause w i t h the commercial

a r i s t o c r a c y now i n e f f e c t i v e c o n t r o l of F l o r e n c e and the

Tuscan h i n t e r l a n d .

Aooording to M a c h i a v e l l i , the s t r u g g l e of the landed

a r i s t o c r a c y to share power i n F l o r e n c e was abandoned as

e a r l y as 1378; s i n c e when the c o n f l i c t f o r power had raged

among the contending merchant n o b i l i t y , and between the

n o b i l i t y and the p e o p l e . The i s s u e o f h e r e d i t a r y r i g h t to

power had t h e r e f o r e ceased to be a v i t a l one i n Florence

when M a c h i a v e l l i wrote; and the problem of the ancient

n o b i l i t y was to f i n d a means of adapting themselves to the

conditions of a new age without too great l o s s of wealth

and dignity. The agonies of p r i d e s u f f e r i n g r e s t r a i n t ,

and the s u b t l e t i e s of the noble endeavouring to conceal

the n e c e s s i t y f o r s o t i v e p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n the struggle

f o r s u r v i v a l underlay much o f the p o l i t i c a l manoeuvring

 -3-

of the time and the concepts and formulations of Machiavelli.

What strikes this reader of Machiavelli most forcibly
is his intelligence and objectivity. A mind alert, self-
conscious, intensely aware and, c r i t i c a l l y , as active as a
terrier is expressing i t s e l f with frankness and dignity.
1
As the dedications and introductions to 'i'he Prinoe and
2
The Discourses indicate, Machiavelli offers his work, not
as an achievement, but as a tentative effort to disclose
truth, as knowledge that, culled from contemporary experience,
and checked against the past, may guide a prinoe, and serve
the common good; as the findings of an explorer and a
scientist in the f i e l d of human behaviour, public and private.
Although his theses are direoted to the attention chiefly
of those who do or could rule, the principles they expound
are frequently referred to as applicable to the generality
of men; and the work is defended on the ground that
" . . . i t i s the duty of an honest man to
-teach others that good whioh the
malignity of the times and of fortune
has prevented his doing himself; so
, that amongst the many capable ones
whom he has instructed, some one
perhaps, more favored by Heaven,
may perform i t . "3

1) Hiocolo Machiavelli, The Prinoe. ed. Hardin Craig, Chapel

H i l l , The University of Horth Carolina Press, 1944, pp. xxxv-xxxvil
2) Meoolo Machiavelli, The Prinoe and The Discourses, flew York
The Modern Library, Inc., 1940, Bk. I, pp. 103 - 105; Bk. II,
pp. 271 - 275.
3) Ibid., Bk. II, pp. 274 - 275.
 The style, as one would expect, Is clear, pointed
and refreshing. Balance and restraint mark the thinking and
the mode of expressions; as a matter of fact, the constant
reminders that in the discussion of some one particular
princely career or generalized statement of policy, one must
not forget that certain other modifying factors might alter
the case, caution the reader that a l l generalizations are
dangerous, and that the lessons of particular experiences
must be applied with judgment and an eye to immediate
realities.
In the light of the moderate tone in which Machiavelli
writes, i t is d i f f i c u l t for a modern Canadian to.imagine how
he became the prototype for the devil-possessed figure of the
Elizabethan stage. The problem can be solved, however, by
our understanding that the people to whom Machiavelli f i r s t
exposed his thoughts were very unlike ourselves in experience
and philosophy; and that Machiavelli was one of the most dar-
ing and prophetic innovators of thought of the. Renaissance
period in western Europe. As Lord Acton remarks in the pre-
face to Burd's edition of The Prinoe. we are favored by hav-
ing at our disposal "The authentic interpreter of Machiavelli
 -5-

4
"the whole of l a t e r h i s t o r y " .
The works of M a c h i a v e l l i relevant to t h i s d i s c u s s i o n
comprise The P r i n c e , The Discourses on the Ten Books of Titus
1_ i-v to & j
3*&v4?ng- the H i s t o r y of Florence, The A r t of War, the l e t t e r s
and p l a y s , p a r t i c u l a r l y the Mandragola. These t r e a t i s e s ,
l e t t e r s and plays together r e v e a l a man of w i t and s i n g u l a r
independence of mind, but of remarkable subservience i n deed.
They d i s c l o s e a mind that ranged c r i t i c a l l y over every person,
event, i n s t i t u t i o n and point of view that came to i t s n o t i c e ;
and they e s t a b l i s h M a c h i a v e l l i , s e c r e t a r y of Florence, as a
l o y a l and d e f e r e n t i a l servant and fervent p a t r i o t . They make eWv
t h a t , although M a c h i a v e l l i was an explorer and Innovator, and
was fond of g i v i n g advice, he followed h i s own precepts and
sought to please the r u l e r s of h i s time, while he attempted
to persuade them to modify t h e i r p r a c t i c e .
Humble and i l l - p a i d as the p r a c t i c a l work of h i s l i f e
was, M a c h i a v e l l i , as h i s t o r y has shown, was more than a com-
petent c i v i l servant. The problem of government was c i r c l i n g
i n h i s b r a i n i n c e s s a n t l y as he d i l i g e n t l y c a r r i e d out the
orders of The Ten a t home or i n f o r e i g n c o u r t s ; supervised
the p r o v i s i o n i n g of armed camps w i t h scrupulous regard to

4) M o o o l o M a c h i a v e l l i , The P r i n c e , ed. L. A. Burd*

I n t r o d u c t i o n by Lord Acton, London, The Clarendon Press, 1891,
pp. x i x - x x .
 -6

d e t a i l ; or, as a delegate from Florence to the court of

Cesare Borgia, watched and set his wits against that awe-

i n s p i r i n g duke. What he was looking f o r was the secret of

stable government, and a champion who would unify I t a l y and

set her on the road to otablo government, security and

prosperity by erecting the i n s t i t u t i o n s and laws that would

perpetuate order. The o r i g i n a l i t y of his thought f o r that

time lay i n his s t r i c t adherence to material r e a l i t y , h i s t o r y

and experience for his explanations and his judgments, his

suave and untroubled acceptance of the imperfections of man

and the a r b i t r a r y ways of fortune: his complete abandonment,

i n short, of the assumption, common i n his day i n most of

western Europe, that the o r i g i n of government was divine w i l l ,

and that i t s character was h i e r a r c h i c a l . Like a craftsman,

his thought accepted the l i m i t s his material set him, and de-

vised a code of p o l i t i c a l behaviour that would serve humanity

as i t was.

The e v i l and s h i f t i n g manners of men, and the a r b i t r a r y

SAC eve

ways of fortune, Machiavelli argued, wee responsible f o r the

fact that government i t s e l f tended to fluctuate, to r i s e and

decline; s t a b i l i t y of government, therefore, required constant

 -7-

vigilance on the part of the ruler, and a readiness to change

with the time. He offered, therefore, not a blue-print, but
a series of principles as guides to action for the ruler who
would meet a l l possible eventualities; and he was concerned
less with an ultimate - except i n terms of security and pros-
perity for the ruler and the people - than with a modus
Vivendi for the ruler with a vision of empire^than with the
means by whioh order might be spread at the expense of chaos.
His practical and sanguine approach was summed up in his
remajkjr), that men should follow
"...the example of ounninge Archers, whoe
.intending to shoette att a marke that is
beyonde their reache knowinge the strength
of their bowe, & howe farr i t w i l l carrye,
doe take a higher compasse then otherwise
woulde serve, not that they meane by that
proportion to overshoote the marke, but
knowinge the weakness of their bowe make
shewe to shoote over, that att least they
maye shoote home". 5

The core of what Machiavelli strives to express can be

grasped only by a reading of a l l of his chief works, each of
whioh contributes a portion of the definition he was trying
to evolve from his experiences and study of government. His
conclusions are made clear i n the recurrence of basio ideas
and observations, most of whioh are f i r s t expressed in his

5 ) Hiocolo Machiavelli, The Prince, ed. Hardin Craig, Ch. v i ,

pp. 20 - 2 1 .
 -8-

l e t t e r s , and l a t e r are expanded and i l l u s t r a t e d i n a v a r i e t y

of ways i n The P r i n c e . The Discourses, and the H i s t o r y of
Florence.
This c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of h i s work i s the l o g i c a l conse-
quence of the circumstance i n which he developed h i s ideas,
the source of h i s materials and the purpose f o r whioh he
wrote. He was t r a i n e d as a w r i t e r of i n t e l l i g e n c e s , or
reports to The 'Jen of Florence, the body charged w i t h m i l i -
t a r y and f o r e i g n a f f a i r s f o r the c i t y , his responsibility
was to give exact records of events, and to o f f e r opinions
only a f t e r he had c l e a r l y set f o r t h the f a c t s . This he d i d
most c o n s c i e n t i o u s l y , as evidence i n h i s own l e t t e r s t e s t i -
fies. From the court of Cesare Borgia he wrote:
" Your E x c e l l e n c i e s must hold me
excused, remembering that matters
cannot be guessed, and that we
have to do w i t h a prinoe who
governs f o r h i m s e l f , and that
he who would not w r i t e dreams and
vagaries, has to make sure of
t h i n g s , and i n making sure of them \\me
goes, and I t r y to use time and not
throw i t away". 6

Further, from the same court at Urbino he w r i t e s , p a t i e n t l y

6) Pasquale v i l l a r i , She L i f e and 'i'imes of M a c h i a v e l l i ,

Hew York, Charles Scribaers« Sons, 1929, p. 292.
 -9-

explaining -
" . . . t h i s l o r d never r e v e a l s anything
excepting when doing i t , and he does
i t under pressure of n e c e s s i t y , on
the moment and not otherwise; where-
f o r e I pray your E x c e l l e n c i e s to
excuse me and not charge me w i t h
negligence, when I cannot s a t i s f y
your E x c e l l e n c i e s w i t h news, f o r at
most times I f a i l to s a t i s f y even
myself .' 7
1

Exact adherence to f a c t was compulsory i n h i s work,

and appears to have been native to h i s i n t e l l e c t * As the
excerpts given here i n d i c a t e M a c h i a v e l l i ' s comments on the
s i g n i f i c a n t p r a c t i c e s of Oesare Borgia and the approaoh to
events l a t e r regarded as t y p i c a l of M a c h i a v e l l i found t h e i r
f i r s t formulations i n the reports upon which the government
of Florence depended f o r i t s p o l i c i e s .
Of h i s powers of observation and the q u a l i t y whioh
has d i s t i n g u i s h e d them from those of preceding and contemp-
orary I t a l i a n observers, Pasquale V i l l a r i i n h i s L i f e and
Times of M a c h i a v e l l i notes that they enabled M a c h i a v e l l i
"to define the elements of the^ p o l i t i c a l force of France,
. 8
or of Germany, of the King or of the Emperor" and "to
d i s c e r n the cohesion of s o c i a l f a c t s i n a marvellous organic

7jPasguale V i l l a r i , The L i f e and Times of M a c h i a v e l l i , New York,

.Charles S c r i b n e r s ' Sons, 1929, p. 299.
ibid..
8) V o l . I , p. 440 '
A
 -10-

unity". * M a c h i a v e l l i supplemented t h i s a b i l i t y w i t h the

Q u a l i t i e s of a student, and subjected h i s knowledge of
p r a c t i c a l p o l i t i c s to an exacting comparison w i t h that
accumulated i n the records of ancient Rome, the government
of whioh recommended i t s e l f to him f o r the l e n g t h of time
i t endured and f o r the extent of empire over which i t asserted
power; and the c o n c l u s i o n he drew from t h i s comparison he
organized i n t o a system, or s c i e n c e , of p o l i t i c s . Machiavelli's
genius, i n s h o r t , was one w i t h that of the great men of the
Renaissance i n other f i e l d s of thought, who were notable f o r
t h e i r preoccupation w i t h p r a c t i c a l a f f a i r s and t h e i r tendency
to look to|nan and nature f o r example and to the ancients f o r
guidance.
M a c h i a v e l l i concluded from h i s studies that the c h i e f
a t t r i b u t e of the great prinoe was knowledge of and s k i l l i n
the a r t of war. He departed, however, from the medieval a t t i -
tude toward the w a r r i o r as a s o r t of knight e r r a n t , and
thought of him as inseparable from the statesman. The idea
of the r u l e r as a f i g h t e r and law-giver was, of course, not
new w i t h M a c h i a v e l l i , but he fused the two ideas i n a new

9) 'Vol. I , p. 440
A
 -11

way* To him the w a r l i k e a t t r i b u t e s of the p r i n c e were use-

f u l against i n t e r n a l as. w e l l as e x t e r n a l enemies, f o r r e -
p u t a t i o n at home as w e l l as abroad. In other words, the
prince's c a p a c i t y f o r m i l i t a r y leadership was, to M a c h i a v e l l i ,
p r i m a r i l y a p o l i t i c a l asset, f o r i t enabled him to command the
l o y a l t y of h i s people i n both peace and war*
As F. L. Taylor says, M a c h i a v e l l i ' s outlook
"...was p o l i t i c a l r a t h e r than m i l i t a r y ,
..but....he recognized no o p p o s i t i o n be-
tween those two terms. He conceived
the c i v i l i a n and the s o l d i e r . . . a s the
same man i n two d i f f e r e n t aspects. I t was
the duty of the c i t i z e n to be also the
s o l d i e r ; s o l d i e r i n g was a branch of
c i t i z e n s h i p and warfare...a branch of
p o l i t i c s * An army was a h i g h l y s p e c i a l -
i z e d department of the c i v i l s e r v i c e *
The d i r e c t i o n of an army i n the f i e l d
was a part of the wider business of
s t a t e c r a f t " * 10
Taylor estimates the s i g n i f i c a n c e of t h i s approach i n
the f o l l o w i n g way:
"With M a c h i a v e l l i war ceases to be
.accepted as an i s o l a t e d phenomenon
r e c u r r i n g at i n t e r v a l s throughout
human history.•.He was the f i r s t
of a long l i n e of w r i t e r s who take
a p h i l o s o p h i c a l survey of the a r t
of war, who study i t w i t h a view not

10) F. L. Taylor, The A r t of War i n I t a l y . 1494 - 1529,

Cambridge.University.Press, 1921, p. 167.
 -12-

so much to s u r p r i s i n g the secret of

v i c t o r y as to assessing the p o s s i -
b i l i t i e s and the l i m i t a t i o n s of •
armed f o r c e " . 11
The great prinee with whom M a c h i a v e l l i i s mainly con-
cerned i s the s i n g l e man through whom an order of government
i s to be founded. Taking Romulus, founder of Home, as h i s ex-
ample, M a c h i a v e l l i points out that
"A sagacious l e g i s l a t o r of a r e p u b l i c ,
-therefore, whose object i s to promote-
the p u b l i c good, and not h i s p r i v a t e
i n t e r e s t s , and who p r e f e r s h i s country
to h i s own successors, should-concen-
t r a t e a l l a u t h o r i t y i n himself; and
a wise mind w i l l never censure any
one f o r having employed any e x t r a -
ordinary means f o r the purpose of
e s t a b l i s h i n g a kingdom or c o n s t i t u -
ting a republic. I t i s well that,
when the act accuses him, the r e s u l t
should excuse him; and when the
r e s u l t i s good, as i n the case of
Romulus, i t w i l l always absolve him
from the blame." 12
Such a prince must be r e s o l u t e ; he must be resource^
f u l , a c t i v e and d e c i s i v e , i r r e v o c a b l e i n deoree, v i g i l a n t and
f e a r l e s s i n the face of a t t a c k . The resolute prinoe, how-
ever, must temper s e v e r i t y w i t h prudence, so that he may not
a l i e n a t e the support of the people, f o r without the support

11) 3'• L. Taylor, The A r t of War i n I t a l y , p. 157.

12^ l i e e o l o M a c h i a v e l l i , The Discourses. Bk. I , pp. 138-139
 -13

of the people, the p r i n c e i s at the mercy of the nobles

whose ambition i s a constant threat to him, or he i s ex-
posed to the attack of powerful r i v a l s from o u t s i d e , The
p r i n c e , as M a c h i a v e l l i sees him, then, i s a single-handed
champion holding i n check two mutually h o s t i l e forces
w i t h i n the s t a t e , the n o b i l i t y and the people. He i s
o b l i g e d to be c a r e f u l not to d r i v e the n o b i l i t y to despera-
t i o n by h i s r e s t r i c t i o n s , and at the same time he must keep
the population contented. That p r i n c e , t h e r e f o r e , i s most
secure - provided he acts w i t h prudence - who r u l e s through
m i n i s t e r s and agents appointed by him and dependent upon
h i s f a v o r , f o r the prince then has merely to be-concerned
w i t h s a t i s f y i n g the populace by h i s ' p o l i c i e s , and t h a t , i n
M a c h i a v e l l i ' s view, i s e a s i l y done, since the people g e n e r a l l y
want only not to be oppressed.
That the i d e a l prince of M a c h i a v e l l i looked to the
people r a t h e r than to the n o b i l i t y f o r h i s strength i s
proven by the frequency w i t h which the favor of the people i s
s t r e s s e d i n both The P r i n c e and The Discourses. 1 3
The few-
ness of the n o b i l i t y , t h e i r ambition, u n r e l i a b i l i t y , s e l f -

13) Hiccolo M a c h i a v e l l i , The P r i n c e . Oh. I I , pp. 4-5; C h . i l l ,

p. 5j Ch. IX, pp. 40-41 & 42; Ch. I , pp. 45 & 46; Ch;XVII,
pp. 73.& 74; Ch. XIX, pp. 80 & 82; Ch. XX, p. 97: The-Discourses.
Bk. I , Ch. XYI,
 -14-

seeking, d e s i r e to command, and tendency to l i v e toy doing

i n j u r y i s contrasted sharply w i t h the b a s i c a l l y peaceful-
and reasonable i n t e n t s of the people. Further, M a c h i a v e l l i
notes,-the prince must always l i v e w i t h the same people, but
he may change the n o b i l i t y w i t h which he a s s o c i a t e s , and
therefore must meet the needs and expectations of the people,
i'he r e s o l u t e and prudent p r i n c e , therefore, according to
M a c h i a v e l l i , governed h i s actions p r i m a r i l y by the knowledge
that without the support of the people, h i s p o s i t i o n was never
secure
The r e l a t i o n s h i p the wise p r i n c e w i l l maintain w i t h
h i s people i s w e l l summed up by M a c h i a v e l l i i n Chapter XXI of
The P r i n c e .
"...a prince should encorrage h i s
.Citizens and other subjectes, that
they maye hope peaceably and q u i e t l i e
to followe t h e i r trade, whether i t be
i n merchandize or i n t i l l a g e ,
or i n any other trade, l e a s t the one
sorte f o r feare of spoylinge should
leave the grownde u n t i l l e d and the
the other i n dowbte of newe exact-
ions and oustomes, shoulde bringe
i n noe newe wares: But r a t h e r a
good prince shoulde propose rewardes
to those that d i l l i g e n t l i e followe
these trades, or anie other, whereby
 -15

the O i t t y e s or.contry may be enriched.

Alaoe a t t the appointed tymes of the
yeare l e t t him keape the peoples
headea ocoupyed w i t h p l a y e s , and
shewes. And whereas the O i t t y e s are
devided into c e r t e i n e Companies aceor-
dinge to t h e i r t r a d e s , and oocupacions,
the p r i n c e ahoulde haue those companies
i n e s t i m a t i o n and rekoninge, that shoalde
soomtyme be conversante emonge them, and
shewe them soome token of h i s Courtesy
and favour. Pro +vided alwayes that he
v

preserve and s t i l l mayntaine the maiestie

of h i s e s t a t e , whieh i n noe wise, or anie
cause ought to be omitted or neglected". iST H !

F i n a l l y , the great prinoe must be a man of f o r e s i g h t ;

he must look not merely to the present, but to the f u t u r e ;
for, i n M a c h i a v e l l i ' s view, the p r i n c e i s not a mere adven-
t u r e r , not one seeking power f o r the sake of temporary
g l o r y , or p r i v a t e g a i n . He i s the a r c h i t e c t of law and
order i n the community. M a c h i a v e l l i argues
"The w e l f a r e , then, of a r e p u b l i c or
.-a kingdom does not c o n s i s t i n having
a prinoe who governs i t w i s e l y during
his l i f e t i m e , but i n having one who
w i l l give i t suoh laws that i t w i l l
maintain i t s e l f a f t e r h i s death". 15
The question, t h e r e f o r e , of the foundations upon which the
power of the prince i s l a i d , i s discussed i n terms of the
establishment of a p r i n c i p a l i t y that w i l l stand, p r e v a i l
and expand, not only f o r the l i f e t i m e of the prinoe who

15) The Discourses. Bk. I , Ch. x i , p. 148

 -16-

i n i t i a t e s i t , but i n d e f i n i t e l y .
The instruments of the great p r i n c e , i n t h i s concep-
t i o n , are r e l i g i o n , armed f o r c e s , laws and a j u d i c i a r y ,
and the organized support of the people. The source of the
armed forces of the M a c h i a v e l l i a n great p r i n c e , i s , as has
been i n d i c a t e d , the c i t i z e n s of h i s own p r i n c i p a l i t y , who
by being entrusted w i t h arms, are, by t h i s proof of the
prince's confidence, encouraged i n t h e i r l o y a l t y . It i s
c l e a r that only a man who can command the admiration of the
people as a w a r r i o r oan act i n t h i s manner w i t h assurance.
The laws of the wise prince are designed to safeguard h i s
own estate and b e n e f i t the people; and the j u d i c i a r y must
be appointed and dependent f o r t h e i r p o s i t i o n upon the
prince's f a v o r . R e l i g i o n , the importance of whioh
M a c h i a v e l l i f r e q u e n t l y emphasized^ as indispensable to order
and good government, i s discussed as a c r e a t i o n of man's i n -
genuity, and the founders of r e l i g i o n s are e x t o l l e d as the
16
f i r s t amongst great men. R e l i g i o n i s indispensable, and
the appearance of r e l i g i o u s f a i t h i n a r u l e r i s invaluable
because without i t s appeal to s u p e r s t i t i o n the obedience of

16) The Discourses. Bk. I , Ch. X, p. 141

the people might not always be assured, or their readiness
to sacrifioe aroused as occasion required. Machiavelli,
therefore, discussed religion in a tone of deep respect, but
at a l l times as a p o l i t i c a l expedient.
On the question of the hereditary right .to rule
Machiavelli was r e a l i s t i c and rational. While he recognised
the advantages of a prince's being able to present t i t l e by
birth to reinforoe his claim to power and observed that a
prince who has secured power by his own a b i l i t y w i l l be wise
i f he "shall seeme as though he came by the estate by
anoiente inheritaunoe..." 1-7
, he nevertheless points out that

men
"...observe with greater regarde the
-prooeedinges of such princes", I.e.
those who assert power by a b i l i t y ,
"than of those that succeede their
parentes in their kingdomes, and yf
they haue as good s k i l l to governe,
as to gett, they may winne the heartes
of the People sooner by desertes and
pleasure, then the other by disoentes
pedigrees, and continue their loves
longer by the authoritie of their
lawes, then the other can doe by the
antiquitie of their lynes, for men
are oarried awaye rather with thinges
that are presents, then with those
that are paste, and fyndinge i n i t a
commoditie, they content themselves
and seeke noe farther, but w i l l under-

17) The Prince. XXIV, 108

 ••18-

take anie daynger in defence of their

princes safetie..." 18
The concept of the great ruler i n action is then summed
up in the famour metaphor of the l i o n and the fox. Having
conceded the value of legal institutions and the trappings
of power such as religion and spectacle as means of exercis-
ing control over men, Machiavelli sees as the decisive asset
of a ruler the possession of the qualities of beasts, courage
and cunning, a oapaoity to wield force and perpetrate fraud;
"...for seinge there is twoe kyndes of con-
sent ion or stryffe, the one by lawe the
other by force, the f i r s t proper to men,
the later to beastes, men must haue re-
ooorse for redresse to the later, yf they
cannot recover their righte by the f i r s t .
Therefore i t t i s verie neoessarie for a
prince to knowe as well howe to use the
foroe and subtilty of beastes, as the
faythe and sincerenes of men,...." 19
Within this general understanding of the character
and function of p o l i t i c a l power Maohiavelli examined the pro-
blems of princes weak and strong, new and hereditary, great
and inglorious. P o l i t i c a l power, he noted, may be personal,
corporate or communal; i t may, that i s , be princely, e l i -
garohio or democratic; but i f i t is to be effective, i f i t

18) The Prince, XXIV, 108

19) The Prince. Ch. XVIII, pp. 74 - 75.
 -19

is to bring security and greatness to the ruler and the ruled,

i t must be able to seize or outwit where i t meets denial, and
win by art or intimidation where i t encounters reluctance.
The individual princes whom Machiavelli cited as ex-
amples were put forward as persons who f u l f i l l e d or failed to
f u l f i l the requirements for greatness i n a prinoe, or as
illustrations of how a prinoe should or should not act i n
given circumstances. Romulus, Moses, Cyrus and Theseus demon-
strated, according to Machiavelli, the careers of men of out-
standing merit. By virtue of their own greatness and the
opportunity whioh alone fortune gave them, they succeeded,
after overcoming tremendous obstacles, i n winning power and
establishing principalities i n whioh they made themselves se-
cure and rich, and i n which they enjoyed the favor of their
people. Agathocles and Oliverotto da Fermo represented, on
the other hand, those who attain power by v i l l a i n y and who,
therefore, cannot, i n spite of their great a b i l i t i e s , be
numbered among the most famous men. Cesare Borgia, erroneous-
ly seized upon by many as the typical Machiavellian prince,
was cited by Machiavelli as a prinoe, who, having been raised
to power by the favor and influence of others, did everything
 -20-

that should or oould have been done, to consolidate power i n .

most d i f f i c u l t circumstances. In Machiavelli's understand-
ing only a man of rare genius oould be expected to take hold
upon a principality that was contrived for him by others, he
having had l i t t l e to do with achieving i t , and being, there-
fore, without previous plans for government, without the ex-
perience i n commanding and ordering that comes with winning
power oneself, and without prior support either of an army or
of people whose lpyalty had been won by reputation already
established. %® Once set upon his career, however, Borgia
demonstrated those qualities of quick action, ruthlessness,
cunning and daring, and Intelligent concern for the common
welfare, whioh Machiavelli regarded as indispensable to a
good ruler. Francesco Sforza, by contrast, Machiavelli
brought forward as a private man who won his principality
with great d i f f i c u l t y but retained i t with ease; as one who
"usinge meanes requisite for soe greate
.an enterprise, by singular vertue ad-
vanced him self to be duke of Millaine,
and was hable to defende that with saalle
coste, which he had gotten with great
care." 21

20) The Prince. VII, p. 26

21) The Prince. VII, p. 26
 21-

Altogether, the arguments of.The Prince, The Discourses

and the History of Florenoe make clear the distinctive roles
of the prince, the laws and customs, the armed forces and the
citizens i n a sixteenth century community. The Prinoe, even
carelessly read, could not lead one to believe that Machia-
v e l l i ' s principles of power were composed by one who was i n -
different to the reaction of the subject to the Jmler, or con-
queror; much less can The Prince be seen as the inspiration
for the perverse v i l l a i n y which motivates the characters of
22
the English drama that have been classed as Machiavellian,
The evil-intentioned, headstrong, murderous and useless indi-
vidual of the English stage, preoccupied exclusively with re-
venge and personal aggrandizement to the detriment of a l l , has
nothing in common with the prince of Machiavelli^ treatise,
except that he k i l l s and acquires as occasion demands in order
to achieve his ends. The ends of the prince of the treatises
of Machiavelli, however, who is dubbed wise or great, and who
is held up as an example, must at least appear to be acceptable
to the majority of the people, conform to, or at least not be
obviously subersive of law and custom, and advance the power
22) Edward Meyer, Machiavelli and the Elizabethan Drama,
Weimar, Verlag Von Emil Pelber, 1897, discusses these in detail
and Jeannette Fellheimer, The Englishman's Conception of the
Thesis 1935 devotes considerable space to a discussion of the
stage Machiavellian,
 -22-

and wealth of the community as well as the private estate of

the prince*
The true prinoe of Machiavelli, i n short, is a warrior
and a man of talent. He is resolute, self-reliant, objective
and restrained*. He manages judiciously the vices and virtues
to whioh a l l men, including princes, are heir, so that he may
secure himself and his possessions against open or concealed -
attack; and may enlist the support of the majority of the
people about him, through either fear or gratitude*
The man, however, Machiavelli pointed out, eannot be
separated from his environment, which must offer opportunity
for his talents* Because of this close interdependence of
man and environment, Machiavelli noted, a prince may, after
enjoying i n i t i a l success, succumb to disaster, because of his
inability to change his nature when conditions change* The
wise prince, therefore, enacts laws and establishes institu-
tions devised to cope with the vagaries of men and the alterat-
i o n s of fortune; and he rules, not arbitrarily, but in con-
formity to the law thus established* Since, however, amongst
men, there are always a few who aspire to command, the prince
is faced with the problem of steering a fiddle course between
 23-

the mutual hatred of the common people, who want only to

avoid oppression, and the few nobility, who desire to oppress.
In the complexity of this reality, Machiavelli despaired of
perfect government, and concluded:
n
I say,then, that a l l kinds of government
- are defective,..Thus sagacious legisla-
tors, knowing the vices of each.of these
systems of government fey (monarchy, o l i -
garchy, democracy) have chosen one that should
partake of a l l of them....In fact, when
, there ia combined under the same consti-
tution a prinoe, a nobility, and the
power of the people, then these three
powers w i l l watch and keep each other re-
ciprocally i n check"• 23

Because Machiavelli believed that a l l men, including

24 ^
princes, were e v i l , that "this maybe boldlie sayde of men,
that they are ungratefull, inoonstante, disoemblers, fearfull
25
of dayngers, covetous of gayne," he was regretfully com-
pelled, i n the interests of truth and the needs of practice,-
to state that deeeit, cruelty, bad faith have their place i n
the ordering of a state. He admits:
"Surelie yf men were good this precepte
-were naught, yf they were honest this
were hatefull. But seinge they are .
wicked and deceiptfull, i t behoves a
prinoe by discemblinge to meete with
their malice, and by ounninge to over-
throwe their Grafte. And nowe a prinoe
can never wante oocasions to oollour

23) The Discourses. I, pp. 114 - 115.

24) i b i d . pp. 117 - 118.
25) 13SB. iVIII, p. 75
 -24-

the breache of his promise V.

The precise weighing of the amount of goodness and bad-
ness, of cruelty and kindness, of,sincerity and deeeitfulness,
of virtue and viee.generally to which a prince must give him-
self i s , i n Maohiavelli's view, then, a necessity which springs
from the innate e v i l in the nature of men, including princes.
This, together with the uncertainties of fortune, f i l l s the
l i f e of men with danger, and confronts those who would esta-
blish any kind of order with endless d i f f i c u l t i e s , and may
Baffle even the wisest counsel. Machiavelli, therefore warns
" . . . l e t t noe man be perswaded that he can
-take soe sure counsell that he cannot
be controlled, but rather thinoke that he
may be deoeaved, for soe variable is the
, coorse of worldlle affaires, that the more
a man seekes to exoape one dainger, the
lykker he is.to f a l l into an other, but
:

herein i s a mans wisdome seene, yf he be

able of twoe evilles to choose the least,
and oan reape some commodity owt of anie
inconvenience"• 27
According to Machiavelli, a l l men desire glory and
pa

riches, or "renowme royallties and the lyke" fc0

t a s the six-
teenth century manuscript edition of The Prinoe phrases i t .
A l l men desire to acquire and to possess, though some by

26) The Prinoe. XVIII. P. 75

27) Ibid.. XXI, p. 10E
28) Ibid. XXV, p. 112
 -25-

their a b i l i t i e s and resolution are more s u c c e s s f u l than others.

A man distinguishes himself from the common man, therefore,

Machiavelli believes, by his v i s i o n and energy: his capacity

is greater? his achievement, therefore, i s greater, and his

renown, or n o b i l i t y varies as the extent of his estate and

the s e c u r i t y with which he holds i t .

The contemplative l i f e , ««? preoccupation with the a r t s ,

according to Machiavelli, are alternatives to a l i f e , of action,

and are forced upon an i n d i v i d u a l by the malignity of fortune.

He himself wrote out h i s theories of government only when

e x i l e forced him out of active p o l i t i c a l l i f e . In j u s t i f i c a -

t i o n , f o r example, of his own writings he deolared that one

should teach others what by bad fortune one had not been able

to undertake oneself, i n the hope that among one's pupils

might be he who would accomplish that whioh fortune and the

times made impossible to oneself. That he did not despise

the arts or learning is clear from his own studies and his

own c a r e f u l expositions of the arts of war and politics;

from his composition of plays and poetry, and from his exhorta-

tions to the princes to study and to learn from the examples

of the great. His standards, however, were i n e v i t a b l y the

 -26-

standards of h i s time; and i n the f i e l d of public life with

w h i c h he was chiefly concerned these standards were t h o s e of

the c o n s t r u c t i o n o f t h e modern n a t i o n a l s t a t e , and the open-

ing of the e r a of i n d i v i d u a l interprise, empire-building and

conquest.

C o n c e r n e d w i t h men, s m a l l and great, i n their struggle

for s u r v i v a l , M a c h i a v e l l i was preoccupied with actions and

their effects. To him, t h e p r i n c e was simply the n a t u r a l man

endowed w i t h v i r t u e , t h a t i s , w i t h uncommon e n e r g y , initiative,

r e s o u r c e f u l n e s s and clarity of aim, G l o r y and fame, r e p u t a t i o n

and h o n o u r were s o u g h t by h i s p r i n o e as r e i n f o r c e m e n t s of his

power, as p r o p s to h i s e s t a t e , Sueh a man a s h i s p r i n c e , de-

siring t o be listed among t h e g r e a t a n d the famous, w o u l d i n -

dulge h i s energy i n a manner t h a t w o u l d w i n aggrandizement

without alienating t h e community, w i t h o u t d o i n g more harm t o

o t h e r s t h a n was necessary to guarantee h i s own wealth and

security.

In this conception i t i s not surprising t h a t the mark

of t h e weak p r i n c e s h o u l d be i n c a p a c i t y t o make war, indecis-

ion, i r r e s o l u t i o n , mildness and p i t y , and a tendency to d e f e r

to the o p i n i o n s of o t h e r s ; or that the c o r r u p t p r i n o e should

 -27-

be he who s a c r i f i c e d p u b l i o welfare to h i s own p r i v a t e advance-

ment, or, i n other words, f a i l e d to l i n k h i s own fortunes to

those of the community; w h i l e the t y r a n t s h o u l d be one who

ignored the demands of a l l but h i m s e l f , and who, earning the

h a t r e d of the people, was doomed h i m s e l f .

She emphasis whioh M a c h i a v e l l i p l a c e d on n a t i v e ability

as the mark of the g r e a t man l e d him to a o r i t i c a l a t t i t u d e t o -

ward h e r e d i t a r y monarchy. He valued v i r t u e , and he observed

that vittue seldom continued i n a f a m i l y by descent. He was.

t h e r e f o r e , andadvocate of r e p u b l i c a n i s m , r a t h e r than of mon-

archy; and h i s p r i n c e was the founder of a s t a t e the continued

existence of whioh presupposed t h a t i t s i n i t i a t o r organized

i t along l i n e s that would enable i t to s e l e c t f o r l e a d e r s h i p

a man worthy of the p o s t . Time and again M a c h i a v e l l i expressed

h i s l a c k of f a i t h i n h e r e d i t a r y monarchy as a. means of guaran-

t e e i n g good r u l e r s . 2 9
He saw, indeed, i n the p r i n o e the archi-

es
tekt of s t a t e power, and the s i n g l e man who alone c o u l d restore

a c o r r u p t s t a t e to order and good government through h i s

s e i z u r e of absolute power; but f o r the p e r p e t u a t i o n of great-

ness i n a s t a t e , f o r n a t i o n a l aggrandizement, he advocated r e -

29) The Discourses. I, i , 144; I , XVII, 165; I,XX, 174

f. - - -
 -28-

publieanism.
The r u t h l e s s n e s s and cold-bloodedness of which Machia-
v e l l i has f r e q u e n t l y been, aceused are the ruthlessness and
oold-bloddedness of the p r a c t i c e " o f h i s times. Ho one can
read the I n t e l l i g e n c e s and h i s t o r i e s of the renaissance w i t h -
out being impressed by the v i o l e n c e and implacable self-seek-,
ing of the n o b i l i t y , o l d and new, and of the p r i v a t e e r i n g
adventurers both on land and sea, who f l o u r i s h e d i n those
turbulent times. Hor can one f a i l to be impressed by the
frequency w i t h which p r i n o e l y r u l e r s brought d i s a s t e r upon •
themselves and the people of t h e i r land by t h e i r malevolence
or i r r a t i o n a l s e l f - w i l l . A warning and a c a l l to judgment,
such as M a c h i a v e l l i voiced was t i m e l y ; but i n I t a l y i t wa,s
not heeded.
This l i t t l e man,, t h i s c l e r k , who presumed to advise
the great oould not have been.less t y p i c a l of the a c q u i s i t i v e
man, He oould appreciate but he d i d not possess any of the
q u a l i t i e s he regarded as e s s e n t i a l to the r u l e r . Shrewd as
was h i s summing up of the techniques of a c q u i r i n g p o s i t i o n . ~
and power, he r e s o r t e d , when he himself was i n want, to t h e -

naive appeals f o r help from h i s f r i e n d s ; or he wrote, humbly

 -29-

offering his services, to princes^ from whom he hoped to

receive recognition for his a b i l i t i e s and promotion to em-
ployment. He seems never to have been bribed or corrupted
in any way in his public l i f e . He appears in his own person,
indeed, to have been an example and the prophet of the
patriotic c i v i l servant who is more than a servant and less -
than a ruler, and is wholly loyal to his native state. His
forerunners were the modestly paid ambassadors of merchant
princesj who presented themselves at the courts of a l l
principalities and republics, and whose minutely detailed
and objective reports of a l l that went on provided the raw
material from whioh he organized his p o l i t i c a l science. The
quality peculiar to Machiavelli and his predecessors and
contemporaries, the Italian envoys, was t h e * a b i l i t y to
treat themselves as persons apart from the realities in
whioh they moved; and, in the midst of violence, to remain
suave and unruffled, incorruptible in oommeroe with the
corrupt, and loyal to the prosperity of the state they served.
Such were Machiavelli and the prince and science he
conceived.
 -30-

Chapter II

The Machiavellian in English Life,

Looking back on sixteenth century England one i s led

to ask what i t was i n the l i f e of England at that time that
inspired certain poets to conceive of the Machiavellian
prince as a perverse v i l l a i n , and i f , as the stage characters
suggest, Machiavellianism was wholly foreign to thoir own
experience and standards of practice. This enquirer would
also ask i f there might not be i n the plays of Elizabethan
England characters which demonstrate the qualities of the
true prince^ according to Machiavelli, but which for some
reason have not been labelled Machiavellian.
Machiavellianism, as ftefined in Chapter I of this
thesis, i t is submitted, not only was not alien to English
experience, but was the very substance of the polioies of
the Tudor monarohs and of many of the ministers who served
them. Its interpretation of the prince as innovator, for
 •3.1-

exaraple, was typified by Henry VII and Henry VIII; and i t s

conception of the triumphant and sagacious prinoe found i t s
fulfilment in Elizabeth*
These Tudor monarchsjsuccessfully organized the tran-
sition of p o l i t i c a l power i n England from the hands of the
anoient feudal nobility to those of the merchant aristocracy
who arose to prominence as England's commerce and sea power
advanced. They effected the change not as a conscious ob-
jective but as a by-product of their own pursuit of power
and wealth; and the power they wielded was that of popular
despots, or Machiavellian princes.
The opportunity for the Tudors oame with the exhaust-
ion of the patience and endurance of the English people by
the persistent, petty battles of the English nobility over
the orown, known as the Wars of the Roses. Henry Tudor,
Earl of Riohmond brought these wars to an end by his viotory
at Bosworth i n 1485. Many of the former great nobility of
of England were dead and the remainder were demoralized and
disunited. The people were anxious for peaoe and for
r e l i e f from the financial demands of war; and they r a l l i e d
to the new king hopefully. Henry VII did not disappoint
them.
 32

As a young prinoe with a slim olaim to the throne of

England by blood, Henry VII had spent his youth i n constant
p e r i l of being seized and destroyed by r i v a l families.
Suspicion, treachery and deeds of blood had surrounded him;
so that he had learned young to be alert, wary and s e l f -
reliant, to trust himself and to adt with oaution. Taken
from Wales to Brittany for safety when Henry VI of Lancaster
was hard-pressed by the contending Yorkists, under Edward IV,
Henry Tudor waited there until the violence and excesses of
the usurper, Richard III, so alienated the people of England
from the Yorkist l i n e ^ that a new claimant for the throne
might hope for success*
Henry s f i r s t attempt to land i n England was a failure
1

in whioh Machiavelli would have seen fortune playing a major

part, Henry's ship was isolated from i t s fleet, and floods
and storms out off the advance of the chief force of English
supporters under Buckingham, sent out to greet and aid his
landing. But Henry's astuteness would have recommended i t -
self to Machiavelli when he refused to be beguiled by a
band of Englishmen apparently welcoming him as his ship
sighted shore a second time. He would not risk going ashore,
and returned safely to Brittany,
 -33*

In this f i r s t attempt Henry had proven himself w i l l -

ing and able Wiead an army overseas i n an effort to make
a d i f f i c u l t landing in territory ruled by a hostile power.
He had demonstrated judgment and caution, a readiness to
faoe r e a l i t i e s , and a s p i r i t undismayed by heavy reverses.
On the occasion of his seoond attempt, he displayed further
qualities that would have recommended him to Machiavelli,
Convinced of his danger, and at the same time confident of
support i n England, he kept his own oounsel and slipped away
from Brittany without public knowledge, leaving three hundred
Englishmen i n Vannes ignorant of his departure. He landed
at Milford Haven in his native Wales with a small foroe, and
advanced into England to Bosworth, winning new adherents to
his ranks as he went along. He made a solemn pageant of his
landing, kneeling and kissing the ground, making the sign of
the oross and causing the Judica me. Deus. to be sung. At
Bosworth he himself ohose the ground for battle; i t lay
between a rivulet and a morass where inferior members oould
fight to advantage.
This courageous and astute young man appeared to be
one of those of whom Machiavelli might have said:
 -34-

".. .examininge t h e i r noble actes withlTU

wholle coorse of t h e i r l i v e s , i t w i l l
appere that they had nothinge given
them by the favour of f o r t u n e , but
only occasion whioh yelded them f i t t
matter whereby they might bringe i n
what manner of government they thought
oonveniente". 1
The immediacy w i t h whioh Henry had turned to h i s
seoond attempt, and the independence of h i s a c t i o n showed
that he was not a man to wait on time to improve things
f o r him, but was one who could use h i s own resources to
meet the d i f f i c u l t i e s of the present.
Thus as Henry took the throne of England, he was
a man who had shown himself a good s o l d i e r and able
oommander, learned i n the a r t of war. He c l e a r l y r e l i e d
upon the general populaee f o r support; and he made every
p r o f e s s i o n of r e l i g i o u s devotion and d i d not communicate
h i s plans more than was neoessary f o r t h e i r exeoution. In
a l l t h i s he would have won the admiration of the founder
of p o l i t i c a l s c i e n c e .
Henry, thanks mostly to h i s own a b i l i t y , entered
upon the tasks of government w i t h great advantages. A
prinoe by b i r t h , w i t h c l a i m to the throne, he won h i s
kingdom i n war, and was crowned on the f i e l d of b a t t l e .
He was a hero to h i s men-atrarms and a dispenser of favors

1) The P r i n c e , VI, 21-2E

2) Ibid, i l l , 11.
 -35-

to his loyal supporters. It remained for him to demon-

strate his capacities as a ruler.
The steps he took to consolidate his rule were care-
f u l l y chosen to take advantage of existing laws and customs
whioh oould be turned to his purpose, to confirm his l e g i t r
imate claim to the throne and to subordinate the administra-r
tion of the realm directly to his authority.
F i r s t he set about the seouring of his t i t l e by law
and hereditary right; and he pursued this aim in such a
manner that each c i v i l i a n confirmation strengthened his
claim made i n the name of heredity. Never was his l e g i t i -
macy subordinated to a right conceded from any other quarter
or on any other condition. In this he was adhering with
scrupulous exaotitude to the principle, emphasized by
Machiavelli, that a new prince should as much as possible
conform, at least i n appearance, to the laws and customs
of the people of his new principality. Even the ultimate
confirmation of Henry's claim, that of the Act of Parliament
of November 7th, 1485, recognized his reign as dating from
the twenty-first of August, the day before the battle of

3) The Discourses. I XXV, 182

 -36-

Bosworth. Further to bind his power to descent, the new

prinoe proposed to marry into the family of the contending
house of York, and thus, by uniting the blood of the two
claimants to end the danger of conflict arising from a
r i v a l claim. He therefore imprisoned the sole heir of the"
Yorkists, Clarence, for l i f e ; and announced his intended
marriage to Elizabeth of York.
Seeking to impress and win the favor of the populace,
he now proceeded in easy stages to London, The City and
very heart of England, where he rode In triumph through the
streets. His progress through the country and his recep-
tion in London were applauded by the people with greatest
enthusiasm.
Shortly after his arrival in London he called a
council of the nobles and formally proclaimed his intended
marriage; and then, in spite of an outbreak of plague, held
his coronation as scheduled, before his wedding. As he
advanced in security, he rewarded his immediate followers,
4
out of the spoils of his adversaries, he instituted a
body-guard of f i f t y men, archers and others, constantly to

4) The Prince, XVI, 70

 -37-

attend him* He then called parliament and had his t i t l e

confirmed i n him and in the heirs of his body* In these
actions Henry observed a member of maxima that Machia-
v e l l i would have applauded* His insistence upon reoogni-
5

tion of power as centering in and flowing from himself,

and his use of established institutions and laws to this
end, the organization of the nucleus of an armed force of
his own subjects, identified with a l l his movements, his
deliberate encouragement of public display of the people's
favor toward him as he travelled slowly through his new
territories meeting the people, would a l l have won the
approbation of Machiavelli. Later, in an even more pre-
else conformity to the princely behavioug advocated by
Machiavelli, he went through those counties where uprisings
against him had either taken place or were threatening;
and whenever he encountered hostility, he made a great
show of foroe; where outbreaks had taken place he had the
leaders only summarily executed, and where the people were
humble he was graoiousness i t s e l f to a l l . Nor did he over-

Si The Discourses, I IX, 138 and 140-141.

 -38-

look paying s p e c i a l a t t e n t i o n to the guildsmen of the c h i e f

trades. Of t h i s t r i p i t i s t o l d that he showed great
i n t e r e s t i n and promised p r a c t i c a l a i d to the B r i s t o l s h i p -
builders,
i h i l e he showed clemency to the common people, and
r u t h l e s s j u s t i c e to t h e i r misleaders against h i m s e l f , he
s y s t e m a t i c a l l y impoverished h i s opponents among the n o b i l i t y
by l a n d s e i z u r e s . In t h i s way, he maintained himself, was
i n a p o s i t i o n to reward h i s supporters, and was not required
to burden h i s new subjects w i t h t a x a t i o n and imposts, 7
He
f u r t h e r made a scrupulous point of e s t a b l i s h i n g h i s c r e d i t
w i t h Parliament and the merchant leaders of London, by per-
suading them on s e v e r a l occasions to loan him money, which
each time he p a i d back promptly, according to agreement.
Parliament, which he had used s k i l f u l l y as a means of
confirming h i s r o y a l power, he now employed, w i t h an i n s i g h t
worthy of M a c h i a v e l l i , as the instrument f o r punishment of
the leaders of r e b e l l i o n sponsored by the Y o r k i s t Queen-
dowager and l e d by the impostor, Lambert Simnel, Upon

6} The P r i n o e , XXI, 85
7) I b i d , XVI, 69 70
 -39-

Henry's summons Parliament met and attainted the leaders,

and passed measures designed to provide special organs for
the punishment of crimes and misdemeanors against the king,
one of which was the Court of Star Chamber* By these means
Henry set up institutions and persons other than himself as
the media of punishment, reserving to himself the power of
o

bestowing benefits, as Machiavelli recommends*

Henry exercised his power ruthlessly, but with pru-
dence. When the revolt fanned by the Yorkists and led by
Lambert Simnel was reaching the proportions of o i v i l war, he
acted with despatch* He deprived the Queen-dowager of her
lands; paraded the real Warwick publicly,, issued a pardon
to a l l who would submit to him; set guards throughout the
coast, and himself made a progress through the insurrection-
ary counties* When he learned that the Earl of Dorset, one
of his most powerful opponentsj was coming in to surrender,
he sent out forces and had him seized* In the course of these
activities he made public and ceremonious show of his religion,
had the Church o f f i c i a l l y curse a l l who opposed him, and as

8) The Prince. XIX, 82 - 83.

 -40-

the c i v i l war gathered head

"..•issued a very s t r i n g e n t pro-
clamation against robbing churches,
r a v i s h i n g women, o r even t a k i n g
v i c t u a l s without paying f o r them
at the p r i c e s 'assized by the
c l e r k of the market', on pain of
death. Mor was any man to venture
to take a l o d g i n g f o r h i m s e l f not
assigned t o him by the king's
harbingers, oh p a i n of imprison-
ment and f u r t h e r punishment a t the
king's d i s c r e t i o n . The s t r i c t e s t
d i s c i p l i n e was enforced throughout
the army..." 9
In a l l t h i s he honored the maxim which i s summed up
i n chapter seventeen of The Prinoe i n the quotation from
Virgil -
Res dura, et r e g n i novitas me t a l i a
o o g u n t / k o l i r i , e t l a t e f i n e s oustode
tueri.
The w a r r i o r prinoe showed himself as statesman r e s o l u t e
and d e c i s i v e i n a c t i o n , a good executive served by e f f i c i e n t
m i l i t a r y agents, and a leader ready t o appear p e r s o n a l l y i n
the areas of danger. I n h i s handling o f the E a r l of Dorset,
he showed himself the p r i n c e of the eighteenth chapter of
The P r i n c e , who keeps h i s word only i n s o f a r as i t serves h i s
own i n t e r e s t , and as longas the occasion f o r whioh he made

9) James Gairdner, Henry V I I , London, MaoMillan and Co., 1892

 -41-

the agreement remains. He o s t e n t a t i o u s l y i d e n t i f i e d h i s r u l e

with r e l i g i o n , ^ showed that he understood that to r e t a i n
or w i n the a l l e g i a n c e of the people he must guarantee them
against l o s s of t h e i r property or harm to t h e i r women, 1 1
and
centered a u t h o r i t y i n h i m s e l f , making h i s name the symbol of
12
power and j u s t i c e . And as a commander he had shown him-
s e l f ready and able to enforce discipline.
M a c h i a v e l l i i n d i s c u s s i n g the methods a prince should
use t o r e t a i n c o n t r o l of a p r i n c i p a l i t y annexed to h i s own,
but d i f f e r e n t i n language and custom, argued that the prince
should, i f p o s s i b l e , r e s i d e there himself; but that i f he could
no* he should plant colonies and organize a government there of
h i s own subjeots o r of such native people as he could make de-
pendent upon himself f o r b e n e f i t s and p o s i t i o n .
In I r e l a n d , f o l l o w i n g the attempt of Simnel to g a i n the
crown* Henry V I I undertook t o make the whole a d m i n i s t r a t i o n
d i r e c t l y responsible t o himself, and predominantly E n g l i s h i n
personnel. He therefore arranged that a l l the p r i n c i p a l c a s t l e s
i n I r e l a n d should be placed i n the hands of the E n g l i s h , and

10) The P r i n c e . X V I I I , 77
11) I b i d . X V i l , 73.
12) G. M. Trevelyan, H i s t p r y of England.London, Longmans,
,Green & Co., 1929, pp. 273 - 275 gives a good summary of
Henry V I I s measures d i r e c t e d toward c e n t r a l i z i n g power i n
1

England i n the monarch.

13) The P r i n c e , I I I , 7 - 8 .
r ; • - ...
 ^42

that the country should no longer, be a refuge f o r E n g l i s h out-

casts and malcontents. He allowed the I r i s h c h i e f , K i l d a r e ,
to r e t u r n to I r e l a n d as the King's Deputy, but he held h i s
son i n England as a hostage.
In h i s I r i s h p o l i c y Henry was the master p o l i t i c i a n , as
M a c h i a v e l l i would-have esteemed him: s k i l f u l , a f f a b l e , r e s o l u t e ,
achieving by h i s own a g e n c i e s ^ what he could not win w i t h the
consent of the subordinate people, y e t c o n t r i v i n g , by the
j u d i c i o u s treatment of d i f f i c u l t but indispensable persons, to
render them u s e f u l to him i n s p i t e of themselves; clement, as
circumstances r e q u i r e d , c r u e l , when n e c e s s i t y d i c t a t e d .
The o b j e c t i v i t y and c l a r i t y of purpose that underlay
Henry's p o l i c i e s produced an e f f e c t i v e n e s s i n a c t i o n which would
have d e l i g h t e d M a o h i a v e l l i , C l e a r l y , i t was Henry's object t o
u n i f y and r u l e England as an absolute monarch, as i t was
M a o h i a v e l l i ' s dream that the Medici should u n i f y and r u l e
Italy, To do t h i s , as M a c h i a v e l l i would have seen i t , Henry
had to crush h i s o p p o s i t i o n among the n o b i l i t y , and win the
people to h i s s i d e . To r u l e , a l s o , he needed revenue; and he
wished to r a i s e M i s needed revenue f o r h i s own treasury w i t h -
14

out appeal to the people, as M a c h i a v e l l i would have advised.

14) The Prinoe. x Y l , 69 - 76 : ~" : : !

 -43-

Henry therefore appealed not to the people f o r revenue, but to

the Great C o u n c i l of the nobles^^j/yho^indeed, were now i n no
p o s i t i o n to r e s i s t h i s demands; and through them he secured a
r e v i v a l of Benevolences, or f o r c e d loans, equivalent t o donations.
In i n s t r u c t i n g h i s commissioners, he urged them, as Bacon, i n
his l i f e of Henry V l l l r e p o r t s :
"..•'that i f they met any that were sparing
-they should t e l l them that they must needs
have, because they l a i d up; and i f they
were spenders they must needs have, because
i t was seen i n t h e i r port and manner of
l i v i n g ; so n e i t h e r k i n d came amiss' ". 15
Trapped by the king's subt£]jty, the nobles were f l e e c e d .
Henry, however, was c a r e f u l , as M a c h i a v e l l i would have
advised, not to d r i v e any one s e c t i o n of h i s diverse p o p u l a t i o n
too f a r . Though h i s two c h i e f commissioners, S i r R i c h a r d
Empson and Lord Dudley might make h i s r u l e hated f o r t h e i r
e x t o r t i o n s , Henry eased the mind of many a noble by promoting
i n parliament an act to p r o t e c t from impeachment or a t t a i n d e r
any one who fought f o r a de f a c t o king; and thus he exonerated
a l l who had fought f o r R i c h a r d I I I before Bosworth. H i s mastery
of compromise i s i l l u s t r a t e d i n h i s l e g i s l a t i o n on enclosures,
which r e q u i r e d that no dwellings be b'orn down, but s a i d nothing

15) Quoted i n Gairdner, Henry V I I . p. 151

 -44-

about the neeeaaity f o r c u l t i v a t i o n of the land; the owners,

t h e r e f o r e , could turn sheep on the l a n d , and the peasants could
not complain that they were rendered homeless.
By p o l i c i e s , then, that would have found f u l l favor w i t h
M a c h i a v e l l i , Henry VII of England, w i t h i n ten years of h i s
a c q u i s i t i o n of the throne, e s t a b l i s h e d himself as the most power-
f u l i n d i v i d u a l i n the land, and was r a p i d l y becoming the wealth-
iest, This he had achieved by combining force and a subtle mani-
p u l a t i o n of law and custom. He respected t r a d i t i o n as long as i t
served h i s purpose, and timed h i s changes to take advantage of
the c o n f l i c t between the nobles and the people i n a manner that
suppressed the former and c o n c i l i a t e d the l a t t e r ; and he pur-
sued a c a r e f u l f i n a n c i a l p o l i c y which strengthened h i s own
treasury and won the favor of the people.
In f o r e i g n p o l i c y a l s o , Henry's career honored the p r i n -
c i p l e s enunciated by M a c h i a v e l l i , E a r l y i n h i s r e i g n , i n 1492,
he undertook a war w i t h France both to win r e p u t a t i o n w i t h the
16
E n g l i s h and to compel f e a r and respect from a r i v a l power.
He launched the war, t h e r e f o r e , on a l i m i t e d scale and w i t h no

16) The P r i n c e , XXI, 98 - 100

 -45--

i n t e n t i o n of conquering France; and, having impressed France.,

r
b e n e f i t t e d the Emperor M a x i m i l i a n , and f r e e d E n g l i s h commerce
w i t h the Low Countries from molestation by Spain, he enriched
himself by exacting the l a r g e s t t r i b u t e from France that any
E n g l i s h k i n g had ever r e c e i v e d . The conduct and timing of t h i s
war revealed Henry's a p p r e c i a t i o n of the value of m i l i t a r y
r e p u t a t i o n and of the p r i n c i p l e of the balance of power, em-.
17
phasized by M a c h i a v e l l i .
In the course of h i s long r e i g n (1485 - 1509) Henry was
confronted on more than one occasion by c o n s p i r a c i e s against
him, and took a hand himself i n promoting conspiracies i n the.
courts of other p r i n c e s * His handling of the major conspiracy
of the Y o r k i s t s i n a i d of the c l a i m of the imposter, P e r k i n
18
Warbeok, f o l l o w e d the course M a c h i a v e l l i advocated* He
pretended to take no n o t i c e of the conspiracy and allowed i t to
r i p e n before he appeared to act.- Then he showed himself to be.
so w e l l informed that he was able to expose the foremost l e a d e r s ,
i n c l u d i n g h i s own chamberlain, Lord Stanley, a r e l a t i v e . »He was
r u t h l e s s i n h i s punishment, even executing Lord Stanley, and
17) The P r i n c e . I I I . 9 ; and"XII, 102.
18) The P r i n o e . vt££: TU* Discourses. 1?kTE,vi.
 -46-

causing anyone who l i b e l l e d , him for. the a c t to be punished.

In t h i s way Henry strengthened h i s p r e s t i g e and won many
Y o r k i s t s away from f u r t h e r thought of i n t r i g u e .
Meanwhile Henry had h i s hand i n c o n s p i r a c i e s of h i s
own. I n Scotland the E a r l of Angus and Lord Bothwell, the
l a t t e r a f a v o r i t e m i n i s t e r of James I I I , were h i s agents. He
had himself arranged a p l o t t o kidnap warbeck. He r e l i e d not
upon rumor o r treachery, but upon p a i d spies and informers
f o r h i s information; he c o n t r i v e d to place d i r e c t l y under
o b l i g a t i o n t o him, a l l people on whom he depended; and he
was so continuously watchful that a l l who had anything to l o s e
by a misstep were o a r e f u l to support h i s government. H i s
so

f o r e i g n a l l i e s , a l s o , commonly found themselves X&- s k i l f u l l y

hemmed i n by circumstances created by Henry that they had
l i t t l e a l t e r n a t i v e but t o do as h i s p o l i c y d i c t a t e d . He used
hostages to keep men l i k e Lord K i l d a r e of I r e l a n d i n l i n e ,
and to r e i n the a c t i v i t i e s o f monarchs l i k e Ferdinand of
Spain, whose daughter, Katherine, Henry h e l d i n England a f t e r
her f i r s t husband, A r t h u r , P r i n c e of Wales, d i e d . The f o r t i -
A c a s t l e s which he maintained as outposts, and centres of i n -
t e l l i g e n c e , i n the remoter parts of h i s kingdom he placed i n
 -47-

the hands of nobles d i r e c t l y responsible to himself and depen-

dent upon him f o r t h e i r p o s i t i o n . This system of s p i e s and
personal s u p e r v i s i o n of a f f a i r s , a c t i v e and aggressive, which
was not merely watchful but went out to f o r e s t a l l p o s s i b l e
danger and to create opportunity, wae wholly i n the s p i r i t of
the M a c h i a v e l l i a n true p r i n e e .
James (iairdner, h i s t o r i a n and biographer of Henry V I I
summed up h i s q u a l i t i e s . i n a paragraph as f o l l o w s :
"His t a s t e i n b u i l d i n g was magnificent.
.The wealth he had amassed and l e f t be-
hind him, locked up i n various secret
p l a c e s , was reported to have amounted to
n e a r l y 1,800,000 pounds (value of that
day)...He valued money only f o r money's
worth; and to him a l a r g e reserve was
a great guarantee f o r peace and s e c u r i t y .
He made, moreover, a p r i n c e l y use of h i s
wealth, encouraged s c h o l a r s h i p and music
as w e l l as a r c h i t e c t u r e , and dazzled the
eyes of f o r e i g n ambassadors w i t h the
splendour of h i s receptions Few
indeed were the c o u n c i l l o r s that shared
his confidence, but the wise men....had
but one opinion of h i s consummate w i s -
dom. Foreigners were g r e a t l y s t r u c k
w i t h the success that attended h i s p o l i c y .
Ambassadors were astonished at the i n t i -
mate knowledge he displayed of the a f f a i r s
of t h e i r own c o u n t r i e s . From the most un-
p r o p i t i o u s beginnings, a p r o s c r i b e d man
and an e x i l e , he had won h i s way i n e v i l
times to a throne beset with dangers; he
had p a c i f i e d h i s own country, oherised
 -48-

commeroe, formed strong a l l i a n c e s over

Europe, and made h i s personal i n f l u e n c e
f e l t by the r u l e r s of France, Spain,
I t a l y , and the Netherlands as that of a
man who could t u r n the scale i n matters
of the highest importance to t h e i r own
domestic welfare...." 19

Surely the career and character of Henry V I I f u l f i l s the

d e c l a r a t i o n o f M a c h i a v e l l i who s t a t e d that the p r i n c e should

"...endeavour i n h i s governmente and

.administration of J u s t i c e to shewe
oonVfcinewallie a oerteine Maiestie
mixed w i t h a bolde currage, not w i t h -
owte g r a v i t y & oonstancye, i n soe
much that the b e t t e r sorte male e s -
teem h i s woorde f o r a lawe, and h i s
sentence i n iudgmente i r r e v o c a b l e ,
and also to rayse and continewe that
o p i n i o n of him i n the hartes of h i s
subiectes, that they maie imagine he
can n e i t h e r be abused by frawde, nor
a l t e r e d by f l a t t e r i e .
She prince that hath once woonn to
himself reputacion and accompte
emonge h i s s u b i e c t e s , neede not - .
feare n e i t h e r the conspiracies or
ooniurations of h i s subiectes a t t
home nor the assaultes or invasions
of h i s Enemyes abroade; f o r a
prince indeede shoulde soe behaue
himself i n the wholle coorse of h i s
l y f f e , that he maybe feared and had
i n awe of twoe s o r t e s , the one
d o m e s t i o a l l , the other f o r e i n e , the
one subiectes, the other s t r a i n g e r s ,
the owtward enemies wilbe kepte-vnder
y f they peroeave that he i s w e l l pro-
vided of Armew and w e l l beloved of h i s Y *° >
ey, s &vt

frendes he s h a l l not wante t o take h i s

19) James Gairdner. Henry V I I . p. 209

 -49

p a r t e , y f he obserue good d i s c i p l i n e
emonge h i s people, and thinges beinge
sure abroade, there i s noe dowbte of
h i s saftye a t t home vnlesse he be
disturbed by some r e b e l l i o n or oon-
spiracie.
And though h i s f o r e i n e Enemies
shoulde e n t e r p r i s e anie matter
against him, soe longe as h i s pro-
v i s i o n f o r the Warrs were s u f f i c i e n t s
and h i s r e p u t a c i o n emonge h i s people
not impayred, (yf he were not wanting
to h i m s e l f , ) he shoulde be hable to
beare of t h e b r u n t e and rage of t h e i r
f u r i e , & withstands t h e i r malice to
t h e i r owne gayne and g l o r i e , . . . " 20
In conclusion, i t should be remembered that Henry V I I was
a contemporay of M a c h i a v e l l i , and that he died four years be-
f o r e The Prinoe was w r i t t e n , twenty-three years before i t
was p r i n t e d , Henry V I I l i v e d the p o l i c y that M a c h i a v e l l i ob-
served, analysed and formulated. The p o l i c y of Henry V I I then
was not derived from any t h e o r i s t , but was that recommended by
h i s own c h a r a c t e r , h i s own experience and h i s own aims. He,
however, was c l o s e l y i n touch w i t h events not only i n England
but outside of England, and p a r t i c u l a r l y w i t h the events i n
Italy. As a Milanese envoy a t London i s reported to have r e -
marked i n 1494, n f
...the merchants, most e s p e c i a l l y the
F l o r e n t i n e s , never cease g i v i n g the K i n d of England a d v i c e s . 1 n

20) The P r i n o e . XIX, 79..

21) James txairdner, Henry V I I . 111.
 -50

This same envoy f u r t h e r emphasized that the k i n g of England

n 1
i s most thoroughly acquainted w i t h
- the a f f a i r s of I t a l y , and receives
s p e c i a l information of every event...
when the King of France went i n t o
I t a l y the King of England sent w i t h
him a h e r a l d of h i s own c a l l e d Richmond,
a sage man who saw e v e r y t h i n g . . . . " 22 f

Machiavellianism, t h e r e f o r e , was as hative to Henry V I I

and England as i t was to I t a l y and M a c h i a v e l l i ; Henry VII ex-
pounded i t i n deeds, M a c h i a v e l l i i n words. This i s important
to note; f o r some commentators upon the r e a c t i o n to M a c h i a v e l l i
i n the drama of England have assumed that the r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of
the M a c h i a v e l l i a n as a desperate v i l l a i n sprang from the d i f f -
erence i n n a t i o n a l character and p o l i t i c a l experience of the
23

Englishman and the I t a l i a n . Obviously, h i s t o r y denies

this. Henry V I I s achievements as those af one of the great
f

monarchs of England, the i n i t i a t o r of thejmodern E n g l i s h s t a t e

upon whioh the n a t i o n a l d i s t i n c t i o n and i m p e r i a l power of the
E n g l i s h was b u i l t , confirm the accuracy of M a e h i a v e l l i ' s e s t i -
mation of what was t a k i n g place i n Western Europe and of what
measures were needed to guide s o c i e t y a t that time to i t s next

22) James Gairdner, Henry V I I . P. I l l

23) Fellheimer,. op. c i t .fee th"e claim by Fellheimer Jjhat the
- n a t i o n a l s]friT and temper of E n g l i ^ h ^ p o l i t i c s was* con-
t r a d i c t o r y to tfe&t of the I t a l i a n ' s ^ a s o u t l i n e d by
Machiavelli. ' , U o 4 t
 -51-

stage of development. They prove the p o s i t i v e , c o n s t r u c t i v e

purpose that underlayssome at l e a s t of the t u r m o i l of those
times.
How f a r the Elizabethans were from scorning Henry V I I
f o r a v i l l a i n may be deduced from the manner i n which Shakes-
peare introduces him as a young e a r l :
King Henry: Come h i t h e r , England's h o p e . — I f secret powers
(Laying h i s hand on h i s head}
Suggest but t r u t h to my d i v i n i n g thoughts,
This p r e t t y l a d w i l l prove our country's b l i s s .
His looks are f u l l of peaceful majesty;
His head by nature framed to wear a crown,
His hand to wear a sceptre; and himself
L i k e l y i n time to b l e s s a r e g a l throne.
Make much of him, my l o r d s , f o r t h i s i s he
Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
( I I I Henry V I , IV, W, 64 - 76) 24
The scene of the p l a y took place years before the B a t t l e
of Bosworth, but i t presented the f u t u r e Henry V I I to the people
of E l i z a b e t h ' s day as the man destined to be the f i r s t Tudor
monarch and as the one who would b r i n g peace and order t o d i s -
tressed England.
The p o p u l a r i t y of Henry VII's accession to power i s
a l l e g e d also by Holinshed i n h i s C h r o n i c l e s :
"At the close of h i s ( E a r l of Richmond's ) second speech
„$o h i s army
'the people r e i o i s e d , and clapped t h e i r hands,
-crying vp to heauen, 'King Henrie, k i n g H e n r i e i '

24) W i l l i a m Shakespeare, "Henry VI, P a r t I I I , " The Works of

W i l l i a m Shakespeare. Oxford, The Shakespeare Head Press, 1938.
 -52-

1
When the l o r d S t a n l e i e saw the good w i l l and
gladnesse of the people, he tooke the orowne of
k i n g Richard, (which was found amongst the s p o i l e
i n the f i e l d ) and set i t on the e a r l e s head; as
though he had heene e l e c t e d k i n g by the v o i c e of
the people,...i" (p. 420)
" i . . . a f t e r the death of king Richard was knowne and
-published, euerie man, i n manner vnarming h i m s e l f e ,
& c a s t i n g awaie h i s abiliments of warre, meekelie
submitted themselues to the obeisance and r u l e of
the e a r l e of Richmond: of the which more part had
g l a d l i e so doone i n the beginning, i f they might
haue oonuenientlie exeaped from king Richards
e s p i a l s , which, hauing as c l e e r e eies as Lyna, and
open eares as Midas, ranged & searched i n euerie
quarter," (p. 421) 25
Henry V I I was followed by Henry V I I I , of whom M a c h i a v e l l i
wrote i n The Discourses:
"...quite l a t e l y the k i n g of England attacked
the kingdom of France, and employed f o r that
purpose no other s o l d i e r s except h i s own sub-
j e c t s ; and although h i s own kingdom had been
for over t h i r t y years i n profound peace, so
that he had a t f i r s t n e i t h e r s o l d i e r s nor
oaptains who had seen any a c t i v e military-
s e r v i c e , yet he d i d not h e s i t a t e w i t h such
troops to a s s a i l a kingdom that had many ex-
perienced commanders and good s o l d i e r s , who
had been c o n t i n u a l l y under arms i n the I t a l i a n
wars. He was enabled to do t h i s because he was
a sagacious p r i n c e , and h i s kingdom was w e l l
ordered, so that i n time of peace the m i l i t a r y
a r t had not been neglected". 26
This i s high p r a i s e from M a c h i a v e l l i who wrote so s t r o n g l y i n
favor of r e l y i n g on n a t i v e troops, and who considered that

25) Shakespeare's Holinshed W.G-. Boswell-Stone, ed., London,

- •„ Ohatto and Windus P u b l i s h e r s , 1907, p. 420 and ©.421.
26) The Discourses, I ? XKI, 175 - 176
 -53-

oapacity i n war and the study of the a r t of war during peaoe

were the f i r s t r e q u i s i t e s of p r i n c e l y power.
I f i t i s t r u e , as M a c h i a v e l l i claims, that wise coune-
27
i l l o r s demonstrate the wiadom of the p r i n c e , then Henry V I I I
was s c a r c e l y l e s s able a r u l e r than h i s f a t h e r , although h i s
dissoluteness, self-indulgence and capriciousness make him
e a s i l y appear l a c k i n g i n greatness. The t r u t h i s that Henry
had a succession of the ablest statesmen i n England's h i s t o r y r
Thomas Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell, Thomas Cranmer, Thomas More.
Of these, two are notably types discussed by M a o h i a v e l l i ,
Although Henry V I I I was himself not i n a c t i v e i n the
f o r e i g n diplomacy of England, being p a r t i c u l a r l y concerned
w i t h the i n t r i g u e s to f e e l out the strength and i n t e n t i o n s of
the German Protestant f o r c e s , the f o r e i g n p o l i c y of the e a r l y
part of h i s r e i g n was c h i e f l y guided by l o l s e y , whose s k i l l
i n manoeuvring f o r E n g l i s h influence as between France and
Spain was M a o h i a v e l l i a n . Wolsey's s e l f - s e e k i n g , however be-?
trayed him, and he s u f f e r e d the f a t e of c o u n c i l l o r s who i n -
c l i n e to s a c r i f i c e the i n t e r e s t s of a sovereign both powerful
and cunning. When h i s personal ambition rendered him useless
and even dangerous to Henry, he was dismissed, disgraced and
l e f t to d i e i n retirement, Henry's behaviour toward Wolsey

27) The Prinoe, m i l , 103 & 108.

 54-

as l a t e r toward Cromwell waa marked by the astuteness and r u t h -

28
lessness that bespeaks the wise prince according to M a e h i a v e l l i .
Thomas Cromwell, l i k e Wolsey, ran a course from a p o s i t i o n
low i n the s o c i a l scale t o that of the f i r s t statesman i n the
n a t i o n , next t o the k i n g . Son of a man who was i n turn a brewer,
smith and armourer, he had a l l the d r i v e and arrogance of a
Tamburlane, As a youth he ran away from home, served i n arms i n
I t a l y and France, entered trade i n the Low Countries and i n
I t a l y and returned to England i n 1512, to enter the wool trade
as a merchant and shearman. L a t e r , he began to p r a c t i c e as an
attorney, and became known to Wolsey i n 152G as a man of law.
Thomas Cromwell i s described as i r r e s i s t i b l e and r e l e n t -
l e s s , c a r r y i n g out h i s tasks i n a p e r f e c t disregard of human
feeling. He was charged by Henry w i t h the o r g a n i z a t i o n of the
d e s t r u c t i o n of Papal power i n England, and he d i d i t w i t h a
thoroughness that made h i s work i r r e v o c a b l e . He i s the f i r s t
of England's statesmen to whom has been a t t r i b u t e d a knowledge
of M a o h i a v e l l i * s The P r i n o e . 2 9

Whether or not Cromwell had ever seen or possessed a

copy of The P r i n c e , what h i s experiences were i n I t a l y , how

28) The Prinoe, Ohs. XXII & X X I I I , pp. 103-108

29) I n n e s , A.D. Ten Tudor Statesmen, p. 98; F e l l h e i m e r , Jeannetie,
' The Englishman's.Conception of "the I t a l i a n i n the Age of
Shakespeare, p.m. ; E i n s t e i n , Lewis, The I t a l i a n flenaislTanoe
In England, p. an ; ^.sqi els™.
 -55

much he was a f f e c t e d by the unorthodoxy of I t a l y or how much

he was a product of the whole trend of western Europe toward
absolutism i n government and unorthodoxy i n r e l i g i o n would
be hard to say; but i n character and career he i s t y p i c a l of
one of the princes and c o u n c i l l o r s w i t h whom M a c h i a v e l l i d e a l t -
the prince who f a i l e d properly to r e s t r a i n h i s c r u e l t i e s , who
f a i l e d t o keep himself from becoming g e n e r a l l y hated, and who,
i n s e r v i n g as a c o u n s e l l o r and agent of another prinee was
v i c t i m i z e d when h i s end became necessary to M s master.
In compassing h i s task of removing the power o f the
C a t h o l i c Church from England, Cromwell moved from the i n c i d e n t a l
to the b a s i c , from the lower t o the higher. F i r s t he attacked
the c l e r i c a l abuses whioh so outraged the masses of the people,
and i n doing so won popular support; then he a s s a i l e d the p r i -
v i l e g e s of churchmen, who were i s o l a t e d by the envy of the
other n o b i l i t y ; and then he c o n f i s c a t e d the church and monastio
p r o p e r t i e s , making them a v a i l a b l e to the new n o b i l i t y , whose
sympathies l a y w i t h the king's p o l i c i e s . I n t h i s he deprived
the church of economic s t r e n g t h and enriched the f o l l o w e r s of
the k i n g , c r e a t i n g a new s e c u l a r power to replace the power of
the Holy See i n England. When Cromwell's work against the
papal a u t h o r i t y i n England had beefa completed, however, h i s
 -56-

maater, Henry VIII, had him a r r e s t e d and charged w i t h treaaon;

and he used Cromwell's laws, h i s concept of treason and h i s
f a v o r i t e process, a t t a i n d e r , against him. Cromwell was t r i e d
and beheaded. Like Cesare Borgia's-p Hemirro de Oreo, he had
30
f u l f i l l e d h i s task and could be disposed o f .
M a c h i a v e l l i a n p o l i c y , the p r i n c i p l e of p r i n c e l y a b s o l -
utism b u i l t upon the nice balancing of the claims of the n o b i l i -
ty and of the people, but r e s t i n g i n the f i n a l a n a l y s i s upon
the favor of the people, had so triumphed i n E n g l i s h government
by the time of Henry V I I I ' s death that the i n s t i t u t i o n s and
p r a c t i c e s i t had made t r a d i t i o n a l withstood the d i s i n t e g r a t i n g
i n f l u e n c e of the weak and discordant r u l e s of the t o o - p a r t i s a n
Edward V I and of the f a n a t i c a l l y C a t h o l i c Mary; and E l i z a b e t h
came to the throne_ to exercise M a c h i a v e l l i a n s t a t e c r a f t w i t h
renewed v i g o r . Thanks to the " p o l i t i c k e wisdom" of her grand-
f a t h e r and f a t h e r , E l i z a b e t h exercised her s k i l l as a prince
through a f i r m l y e s t a b l i s h e d parliament and a system of c o u n c i l s ,
courts and commissions, l a y and e c c l e s i a s t i c a l , whioh fused
t r a d i t i o n and novelty i n government so p r e c i s e l y that the
feudal forms that had r e i n f o r c e d l o c a l immunities had become

30) The P r i n o e , V I I , 29
 -57

the media of c e n t r a l i z e d c o n t r o l , and the new i n s t i t u t i o n s such

as the Star Chamber and the n a t i o n a l churoh prevented the o l d
order from being r e s t o r e d . The M a c h i a v e l l i a n dream was here
realized in fact,
E l i z a b e t h ' s f i r s t task was to r e i n f o r c e her new state
w i t h a r e l i g i o n that would prove i n t o l e r a b l e to n e i t h e r P u r i t a n
nor C a t h o l i c . She d i d t h i s by means of the Act of Supremacy
and the Act of Uniformity, which e s t a b l i s h e d her as "supreme
governor", not as supreme head (a nice d i s t i n c t i o n that w e l l
i l l u s t r a t e s E l i z a b e t h ' s c a p a c i t y f o r equivocation) of the
Church of England i n command of a corps of e c c l e s i a s t i c s ; and
she adopted the prayer book by Cranmer as the a u t h o r i t a t i v e
guide to f a i t h . For enforcement of t h i s reform, she character-
i s t i c a l l y r e l i e d on a combination of force and persuasion -
the i n q u i s i t o r i a l court of High Commission and the p a r i s h c l e r g y ,
whose appointment depended on the queen's f a v o r .
In the r e l i g i o u s settlement, E l i z a b e t h was r a t i o n a l and
political. She sought to r e t a i n the episcopacy i n the church,
but to e s t a b l i s h the l a i t y , crown and parliament as masters i n
the realm as a whole. The church, she intended, should be an
instrument of p r i n c e l y power. This r a t i o n a l a t t i t u d e toward
 1

58-

r e l i g i o n , so t y p i c a l of M a c h i a v e l l i (who c e r t a i n l y was no
a t h e i s t ) was evident also i n her f o r e i g n p o l i c y . She hacked
the Congregation of the Lord, a Protestant body w i t h strong
democratic f e a t u r e s , i n Scotland, i n i t s e f f o r t s to oust
C a t h o l i c French i n f l u e n c e from the country, and she gave a i d
to the P r o t e s t a n t Netherlands and to the French Huguenots
against the C a t h o l i c s and Spain; but her a i d was doled out
c a u t i o u s l y so that i t might do no more than keep any one f o r c e
from becoming too powerful. I n t h i s she aimed a t checking her
r e l i g i o u s and commercial r i v a l s who threatened her possession
of the throne and England's independence. -
Her f o r e i g n p o l i c y she regarded as a c o n t i n u a t i o n of
that of Henry V I I and Henry V I I I , who played o f f one r i v a l
against another, and j u d i c i o u s l y aided the l e s s strong against
the powerful, on the l i n e s advocated by M a c h i a v e l l i . Nor was
she above using her own person as a pawn i n the.game i n order
to keep the r i v a l powers guessing whom she might marry.
I n her f i g h t f o r a n a t i o n a l church subservient to the _
crown, E l i z a b e t h tended to be t o l e r a n t , and to l i m i t punishment
f o r recusancy to f i n e s ; but when the p o l i t i c a l and commercial
power of Spain, j o i n e d w i t h a r e v i v e d C a t h o l i c movement spear-
headed by the f a n a t i c a l J e s u i t s , launched a determined campaign
 -59-

to conquer England f o r Spain and C a t h o l i c i s m , her p o l i c y

changed. From 1564, a f t e r the Counoil of Trent, and p a r t i c u -
l a r l y a f t e r the Pope excommunicated E l i z a b e t h i n 1570, C a t h o l i c
non-conformity became i d e n t i f i e d w i t h treason, and executions
mounted/ as the p l o t s against E l i z a b e t h m u l t i p l i e d and Spain's
preparations f o r i n v a s i o n became more open.
E l i z a b e t h ' s capacity to r e t a i n her p o p u l a r i t y w i t h the
great m a j o r i t y of her subjects never f a i l e d her. L i k e her
f a t h e r and grandfather, she never ferb"ke the l i n k of her i n t e r e s t s
w i t h those of the people; f o r while her s k i l l i n diplomacy served
her w e l l , i t was the promotion of England as a t r a d i n g and indus-
t r i a l n a t i o n , u n i f i e d against a l l r i v a l s , that gave the Sudors
t h e i r s e c u r i t y and power. Without t h e i r economic p o l i c y v o f . p r o -
t e c t i o n and promotion of the merchant adventurers and a r t i s a n
c l a s s e s , and a l s o the squirarohy that blossomed with the r e -
duction of the great f e u d a l estates and the growing importance
of trade, the Tudors, f o r a l l t h e i r other p r i n c e l y q u a l i t i e s
would not have conformed to the times, and would not have won
the g l o r y and renown of being the a r c h i t e c t s of B r i t a i n ' s u n i t y
and empire.
E l i z a b e t h refused to be bound by the o l d n o b i l i t y . She
chose her own m i n i s t e r s , and f i l l e d her c o u n c i l and court w i t h
new men.
She treated, the parliament as her c h i e f support, but a l s o as her
c h i l d , and f l a t t e r e d i t s members without s c r u p l e ; but she dared
not t r y l o y a l t y too harshly by t a x a t i o n , and she h e r s e l f became
a merchant and a promoter of merchant e n t e r p r i s e s i n order to
maintain her t r e a s u r y .
She was s c e p t i c a l , dishonest, c o q u e t t i s h and hard-headed.
She kept her m i n i s t e r s guessing and her court f a v o r i t e s i n a
constant d i s q u i e t . Because of the s a n i t y of the p o l i c y that
emerged from the carryings-on of t h i s woman, who exasperated
more than one ambassador and h a r r i e d m i n i s t e r , because of the
success of her r u l e i n s o l v i n g the domestic and f o r e i g n problems
of her country, one can only conclude that her moods and passions
were at l e a s t h a l f c a l c u l a t e d to keep the enemies w i t h which
she was surrounded guessing, and unsure of how to accomplish
t h e i r ends; and to t r y to stave o f f the i n e v i t a b l e hour of
d e c i s i o n , when the new world being ushered i n by Tudor p o l i c y
would r i s e up and supersede both the o l d order and the t r a n s i -
t i o n a l despotism. As one reviews the s i t u a t i o n s that confronted
E l i z a b e t h , both as a r u l e r and as a person, and examines the
s o l u t i o n s she a r r i v e d at and the processes by which she a r r i v e d
at those s o l u t i o n s , one i s c o n s t a n t l y reminded of the arguments
i n The P r i n c e and i n the Discourses.
 -61-

E l i z a b e t h was p h y s i c a l l y and mentally vigorous; she was

courageous and learned; and although she was not a Joan of Arc
she kept a s t r i c t watch over her m i l i t a r y commanders. She had
her own notions of s t a t e p o l i c y and conveyed them to her ad-
v i s e r s when i t s u i t e d her convenience. She was s e n s i t i v e to
her standing as a p r i n c e a n d of h e r - a u t h o r i t y . She t r u s t e d no
one, i t appears, not even her most l o y a l m i n i s t e r s ; but r e t a i n e d
those whom she knew to be indispensable to the success of her
government and whose p o s i t i o n r e s t e d w i t h her; and by such she
allowed h e r s e l f to be cautioned and checked. She knew how to
favor and how to execute. Often peevish, v a c i l l a t i n g or ob-
s t i n a t e , she has been c h a r a c t e r i z e d as one of the keenest
p o l i t i c a l minds of her time. She had a vast experience of
s t a t e c r a f t , and remarkable power to judge c h a r a c t e r . As a
renaissance prinoe she i l l u s t r a t e d the t r u t h of M a c h i a v e l l i ^
c o n c l u s i o n that
" I t t i s impossible f o r a p r i n c e , and s p e c i a l l i e
-such a one as i s newlie raysed to that e s t a t e ,
d u l i e to observe those thinges whioh oauseth
men to be esteemed vertuous, f o r he s h a l l be
constrayned spyte of h i s harte to transgres
the bondes of p y t t i e , faythe honestie courtesie
and r e l i g i o n : and therefore i t i s b e h o o f f u l l
f o r him to c a r r i e a mynde & d i s p o s i t i o n readie
to a l t e r w i t h a l l weathers, as the v a r i a t i o n
of fortune s h a l l m i n i s t e r occasion, as to
followe the best, and to be vertuous y f he
 -62-

maye, but y f that w i l l not serve, not to be

s e r i p u l o u s to f o l l o w e the c o n t r a r i e . A prince
shoulde observe w i t h a l l d i l l i g e n c e and care
that noe woorde sholde passe h i s mouthe that
d i d not savour of one of these f i v e q u a l l i t i e s
before meneioned, and wheresoever he were seene
or hearde, he should seeme w i t h great reverence-
to e x t o l l and imbrase P i t t i e Fayth Honestie
courtesie .& R e l i g i o n and s p e c i a i l i e the l a s t e ,
f o r men g e n e r a l l i e are c a r r i e d away w i t h the
shewe of thinges, not w i t h the substance,
everie man can see but fewe can judge, there
i s noe man but seeth what thow seemest to bee,
but fewe can deserne what thow a r t e indeede.
Which fewe dar not gainesay the opinion of the
m u l t i t u d e , which haue the maiestie of the
prinoe fior t h e i r e defence. In the A c t i o n s of
men, & e s p e o i a l l i e i n princes causes (whioh
are not determinable by lawe nor c a l l e d i n
question before judges) the lookers on f o r the
most parte marke the evente not the causes, the
ende not the maner of t h e i r prooeedinges, Lett
a prince therefore provide f o r the s a f e t i e of
h i s person and s e c u r i t i e of h i s estate and never
dowbte but what meanes soever i t be doon (soe
i t cary a shewe of honestie) i t shalbe construed
. to the best, and be thought woorthy of great
prayse and commendacion, f o r the common people
are o a r r i e d away w i t h the semblance of honestie
and good eventes of A c t i o n s , and t r u l i e the
wholle worlde i t i s but a oommuflaltie, f o r the
wiser sorte that can judge of thinges a r i g h t
are placed i n such roomes where the multitude
cannot come unto". 31
E l i z a b e t h ' s v o l a t i l e p e r s o n a l i t y , her bravery and energy
recommended her to the populace; who witnessed the graciousness
of her manner during pageants, experienced the p r o s p e r i t y w i t h

31) The P r i n c e , X V I I I , 77 - 78.

 -63-

which her r u l e endowed England on the w h o l e a n d were impressed

by the number and s e v e r i t y of her proclamations.
As w i l l be shown l a t e r i n greater d e t a i l , by the time of
E l i z a b e t h the w r i t i n g s of M a c h i a v e l l i were c i r c u l a t i n g i n
England i n published as w e l l as manuscript form. That the
M a c h i a v e l l i a n q u a l i t i e s of the p o l i c i e s of the Tudors were
32

appreciated by some Englishmen would seem to be undoubted.

That these p o l i c i e s were g e n e r a l l y approved and applauded i s
t e s t i f i e d to by the r e l a t i v e ease w i t h which the Tudors r e t a i n e d
t h e i r throne, and the tremendous support they received while
33
e f f e c t i n g r a d i c a l reformsj the growth of n a t i o n a l consciousness
and the p a t r i o t i c fervour shown under t h e i r r u l e .
The i d e n t i t y of England's i n c r e a s i n g greatness as a
n a t i o n w i t h the person of the monarch becomes most notable under
Elizabeth. I t i s p r e c i s e l y under E l i z a b e t h , however, that the
devil-possessed M a c h i a v e l l i a n appears upon the E n g l i s h stage,
c l e a r l y l a b e l l e d and l o u d l y denounced. At the same time,
however, as w i l l be shown, the true prinoe as M a c h i a v e l l i de-
f i n e d him i s also paraded on the stage, but untagged, and,
apparently, unrecognised.
Why true M a c h i a v e l l i a n s could emerge upon the stage
32) Jeannette F e l l h e i m e r , The Englishman's Conception of the
, I t a l i a n in.the Age of Shakespeare, Chapter IV c i t e s evidence
of l i b r a r i e s , l e t t e r s and anecdotes.
33) The Calendar of the Carew Manuscripts. 1589 - 1600, ed.
J.S..Brewer, M.A. and Wm. B u l l e n , London, Longmans, Green &
Co., 1869, gives evidence of the overwhelming support extended
to E l i z a b e t h i n her church reforms, from c l e r g y as w e l l as
l a i t y , pp. x x x - x x x l
 -64-

without being ao l a b e l l e d must now be c l e a r to readers. It is,

s u r e l y , that the c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n of the prince i n terms r e f l e c -
t i n g those of M a c h i a v e l l i must have s t r u c k the audience w i t h the
force of t r u t h , and impressed i t w i t h the accuracy and f u l l n e s s
w i t h which the character defined contemporary p o l i t i c a l p r a c t i c e .
I t i s , s u r e l y , that M a c h i a v e l l i ' s s e l e c t i o n of p r i n c e l y character-
i s t i c s e s s e n t i a l to s u c c e s s f u l renaissance government was d i s -
c r i m i n a t i n g and exaot, and that the appearance on the stage of
a t r u l y M a c h i a v e l l i a n r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of a s u c c e s s f u l renaissance
monarch would be reoeived by the audience with r e c o g n i t i o n and
approval. I t i s , s u r e l y , that the q u a l i t i e s c i t e d as d i s t i n g u i s h -
ing the true M a c h i a v e l l i a n prince - as r e s o l u t i o n , v a l o r , r e -
sourcefulness, self-assurance, cunning, s u b t l e t y , d i s s i m u l a t i o n
and shrewdness, an a f f e c t a t i o n of p i e t y , d i g n i t y , the i d e n t i f i -
c a t i o n of the p u r s u i t of h i s own advantage w i t h the promotion
of p u b l i c w e l f a r e , general tolerance and a capacity f o r r u t h -
lessness - epitomized the q u a l i t i e s c a l l e d f o r t h by the problems
of the age. I n other words, the p r i n c i p l e s of renaissance poli"-
t i c a l power, as expounded i n the works of M a c h i a v e l l i and demon-
s t r a t e d i n the plays designed to extenuate the p r a c t i c e of the
Tudors, f e l l upon the theatre audiences of E l i z a b e t h ' s time
w i t h the impact of r e a l i t y , and r e i n f o r c e d the confidence of
the people i n t h e i r l e a d e r s . She romantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n , how-
ever was an extravagance, a bogey.
 -66<

Chapter I I I

A n t i - Machiavellianism

The s t o r y i s t o l d that i n 1 5 2 7 Thomas CBomwell, m i n i s t e r

to Henry V I I I and p u p i l of C a r d i n a l Wolsey i n s t a t e c r a f t ,
advised Reginald P o l e , l a t e r C a r d i n a l P o l e , c o u n s e l l o r t o the
C a t h o l i c Queen Mary, " . . . . t o drop highflown i d e a s , and l e a r n
the p r a c t i c a l business of a p o l i t i c i a n by studying M a c h i a v e l l i ' s
1

P r i n c e , W h e t h e r or not the s t o r y i s h i s t o r i c a l l y w e l l
founded i n f a c t , i t presents a c c u r a t e l y the d i v i s i o n between
those who embraced the theses of M a c h i a v e l l i , and those who
clung t o the medieval-Catholic concept of p o l i t i c a l power,
Cromwell was one of the c h i e f a r c h i t e c t s of the r e l i g i o u s
independence of England and of that indispensable b u t t r e s s of
absolute monarchy, a n a t i o n a l church; P o l e , on the other hand
was a ceaseless f i g h t e r f o r the r e s t o r a t i o n of papal a u t h o r i t y
and the r i g h t s of the ancient n o b i l i t y i n England, To Pole
and t o those who looked out on l i f e w i t h h i s eyes, the Machia-
v e l l i a n t h e s i s was impious, a t h e i s t i c and i m p l i c i t w i t h d i s -
order. Out of the c o n f l i c t between these opposing p o i n t s of

1 ) A.D. Innes, Ten Tudor Statesmen, London, Grayson & G y s o n , ra

p. . 9 8 .
view .the M a c h i a v e l l i a n bogey evolved.
There i s p l e n t y of evidence, as has been noted f o r example
by Edward Meyer, 2
Jeannette Fellheimer 3 a n £ Hardin C r a i g , k-
i n t h e i r r e s p e c t i v e works, that M a c h i a v e l l i was originally
favorably accepted i n England. I n 15^9* W i l l i a m Thomas, an
h i s t o r i a n undertaking to w r i t e of I t a l y , decided t o base h i s
work on M a c h i a v e l l i s H i s t o r y of Florence, as the one on which
1

a l l authors agreed best, 5 i n d i c a t i n g that the then novel

m a t e r i a l i s t i c approach of M a c h i a v e l l i to the p r a c t i c e of princes
and to the o r i g i n s of s o c i e t y and of power was not outrageous
to the E l i z a b e t h a n students of h i s t o r y . I n 1562, when the
f i r s t e d i t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s A r t of War was published I n
E n g l i s h , the e p i s t l e dedicatory, addressed to Queen E l i z a b e t h ,
showed only respect and admiration f o r M a c h i a v e l l i ^. In 1573
G a b r i e l Harvey then a student a t Cambridge, wrote to M. Reming-
ton, a f r i e n d , asking f o r the l o a n of M a c h i a v e l l i * s book. In
h i s l e t t e r he r e f e r r e d to M a c h i a v e l l i as " *ye greate founder
and master of p o l l i c i e s * and he s t a t e d , 11
»I purpose to
peruse him only, not misuse him; and s u p e r f i c i a l l y t o surveie

2) Edward Meyer, M a c h i a v e l l i and the E l i z a b e t h a n Drama, Weimar,

V e r l a g Von Emil F e l b e r , ltJ97« 1

3) Jeannette F e l l h e i m e r , The Englishman's Conception of the

I t a l i a n i n the Age of Shakespeare, U n i v e r s i t y of London M.A.
T h e s i s , 1935.
l±) Hardin C r a i g , M a c h i a v e l l i * s The P r i n c e , Chapel H i l l , The
U n i v e r s i t y of North C a r o l i n a Press, 19l|4» I n t r o d u c t i o n .
5) F e l l h e i m e r , op* c i t . p. 180*
6) I b i d , p. 182,
 -68

h i s f o r r e s t s of p o l l i c i e , not g u i l e f u l l y to conveie awaie

h i s i n t e r e s t i n them* " . L a t e r , i n 1579* Harvey remarked
7

upon the p o p u l a r i t y of Machiavelli»s w r i t i n g s at Cambridge

and noted t h a t the extent.to which they were read was remark-
able. He described " ' an odd crewe or tooe as cunninge ' M

i n M a c h i a v e l l i and i n H
'certayne g a l l a n t Turkish Discourses'",
which, he claimed, were r e p l a c i n g l o g i c and moral and n a t u r a l
philosophy i n student i n t e r e s t . -® I n l57lj.» S i r P h i l i p Sidney,
w r i t i n g from Padua to Hugh Languet, staged that he "» never
could be induced t o b e l i e v e that M a c h i a v e l l i was r i g h t about
avoiding excess of clemency u n t i l (he) learned from ( h i s ) own
experience what ( M a c h i a v e l l i ) has endeavoured w i t h many argu-
ments to prove' "• 9 Languet, r e p l y i n g , r e f e r r e d to Sidney as
Machiavelli«s f r i e n d *
These references t o M a c h i a v e l l i , voiced by E n g l i s h s c h o l a r s ,
i n d i c a t e at l e a s t i n t e r e s t i n M a c h i a v e l l i , and i n some instances,
approval© Government records f u r t h e r r e v e a l that f a m i l i a r i t y
w i t h M a c h i a v e l l i extended to the court n o b i l i t y . A note i n
Queen E l i z a b e t h ' s Common-Place Book f o r the years 1596 - l603

7) F e l l h e l m e r , op. c i t . p.,!B5
8) Meyer, M a c h i a v e l l i and the E l i z a b e t h a n Drama, p. 25
9; F e l l h e l m e r , The Englishmen's Conception, p.""18o
 -6 9 -

r e f e r s t o " ' C e r t e i n s e l e c t e d chapters s e l e c t e d out of Nicholas

Machiavel h i s 3 books of discourses upon the f i r s t decade of
Livie» ^ A l e t t e r from John Blount i n 1 6 0 2 makes mention
of C e c i l , Lord B u r l e i g h , as a M a c h i a v e l l i a n ; and e a r l i e r , i n
l55l» S i r W. P i c k e r i n g i ambassador t o Prance, w r i t i n g t o
B u r l e i g h , spoke of the Discourses of M a c h i a v e l l i which he had
ordered bound, but which he had burned because they were bungled.
F u r t h e r , the C e c i l papers a t H a t f i e l d House, c o n t a i n i n g 'Certayne
s e l e c t e d chapters t r a n s l a t e d out of Nicholas M a c h l a v e l l h i s 3
books of Discourses upon the f i r s t decade of L i v i e 1
offer
evidence t h a t B u r l e i g h d i d indeed consult M a c h i a v e l l i s work* 1

When Thomas B e d i n g f i e l d dedicated h i s H i s t o r y of Florence

(1595) t o S i r Christopher Hatton, he defended h i s doing so by the
hope he had-that h i s l o r d s h i p , although he had read jthe o r i g i n a l ; ,
would " 1
f o r v a n i t i e s ' sake....againe vouchsafe t o read i t i n
our English.» ^ w
T h i s , and a good deal more evidence l i k e i t ,
gathered together i n Chapter Four of Miss Fellheimer's work and
i n the work of Edward Meyer, already r e f e r r e d t o , f o r t i f i e s the
impression that not only B u r l e i g h , but L e i c e s t e r , Walsinghan,
S i r Thomas•Smith, Lord Rutland, the E a r l of Northumberland,
Lord John Lumley and o t h e r s , could have and l i k e l y had read

10) F e l l h e l m e r , The Englishman's Conception, p. 2 2 b

11) Ibid.p. 227
12) Feaiheimer, o p . c i t . p. 2 2 8
 -70-

M a c h i a v e l l i e i t h e r i n E n g l i s h manuscript t r a n s l a t i o n or I n
French, I t a l i a n or L a t i n p r i n t e d e d i t i o n s *
I n a d d i t i o n t o s c h o l a r s , c o u r t i e r s and men h i g h i n the
government of E l i z a b e t h , men of r e l i g i o n were a l s o g i v i n g
a t t e n t i o n t o M a c h i a v e l l i * a theses. An e a r l y expression of the
church's c r i t i c i s m i s given i n a sermon by Rev. Edwin Sandys:
n
'There i s no p o l i c y , no widsom l i k e the
Bisdom of God. The Commonwealth which
A r i s t o t l e and P l a t o have framed i n
t h e i r books, otherwise f u l l of wisdom,
yet compared w i t h t h a t c i t y f o r whose
sake and b e n e f i t the Lord doth watch,
what are they but f a n c i e s of f o o l i s h 1

men? As f o r Machiavel's i n v e n t i o n s ,
they are but the dreams of a b r a i n - s i c k
person, founded upon the c r a f t o f man,
and not godly wisdom, which only hath
good e f f e c t . Godly p r i n c e s have no
need t o seek f o r counsel a t these men's
hands; the mouth of the Lord i s s u f f i c -
i e n t f o r them* 11
13
By the lf>80»s however, the name of M a c h i a v e l l i was becom-
i n g the synonym f o r e v i l ambition. The widely disseminated
and much discussed pamphlet a t t r i b u t e d t o the notorious
J e s u i t p l o t t e r , Father Parsons, had a l a r g e share i n developing
this reaction. I n t h i s pamphlet,, e n t i t l e d Leyeester's Common-
wealth ( l £ 8 a ) . Leicester^warned against advancing Huntington
too f a r , as, the pamphlet notes, h i s t o r y has shown that those

13) F e l l h e i m e r , o p . c i t . p. 186
 -71

advanced sometimes t u r n on those who aided them, as, f o r ex-

ample, Henry V I I turned upon and executed Lord Stanley, and
R i c h a r d I I I turned upon and executed Buckingham: L e i c e s t e r ,
t h e r e f o r e , the pamphlet argues, should be wary, and that
n
'not without reason, as S e i g n i o r Machavel my Lords C o u n c i l l -
our a f f i r m e t h « |W
The pamphlet f u r t h e r comments upon " 'a
s e t t l e d r u l e of Machivel, which the Dudlles do observe: That
where you have onceddone a great i n j u r y , there you must never
forgive* 1
^
Thus from the recommendation of Thomas Cromwell t o the
warning t o Lord L e i c e s t e r , the evidence i s ample that the
t h e s i s of M a c h i a v e l l i had the a t t e n t i o n of persons of various
ranks and i n t e r e s t s ; and t h a t people were d i v i d e d i n t h e i r
r e a c t i o n to it# As the century advanced opinion h o s t i l e to
M a c h i a v e l l i grew sharper and more v o c i f e r o u s , u n t i l i n the
l a s t decade the name of M a c h i a v e l l i became a synonym f o r the
d e v i l , and the e p i t h e t a p p l i e d t o the most d i a b o l i c a l stage
villtija)ns* In 1*J53> Roger Ascham defined Machiavelli«s doc-
t r i n e as n
'to thincke say and do what sooner may best
serve f o r p r o f i t s or pleasure ' ; ^ n
and, while he may not
have approved then, he does not e x h i b i t the f e e l i n g which

ll(.) Meyer, op>oit» p» 29

15) F e l l h e l m e r , op<,cit«p« 180
 72-

he expresses i n 1 5 7 0 i n h i s c l a i m that a l l are M a c h i a v e l l i a n s

who
" l . . . a l l i e themselves w i t h the worst
P a p i s t e s , t o whom they be wedded and
do w e l l agree i n three proper opin-
i o n s : I n open contempts of Goddes
worde: I n a secrete s e c n r i t i e o f
sinne: and i n a bloodie d e s i r e to
have a l l taken away, by sword and
burning, that be not of t h e i r f a c t -
i o n « ". l 6
G a b r i e l Harvey, who i n 1 5 7 3 had been a student of Machia-
v e l l i and had recognized i n him a master of p o l i c y , i n 1 5 7 8
wrote a L a t i n poem i n which he l i s t e d the four crimes that
were to become i n c r e a s i n g l y a s s o c i a t e d w i t h M a c h i a v e l l i a n
17
villains: poison, murder, f r a u d , and v i o l e n c e * In 1579»

i n a l e t t e r t o Spenser, he expressed fear of the harmful e f f e c t s

the study of M a c h i a v e l l i might have on the Cambridge students* ^
He, who i n 1 5 7 3 had c a l l e d M a c h i a v e l l i n
• unicus i n p o l i t i c i s •",
i n 1 5 7 8 , called'him " »Deus R i g i d ! Tyranni » ". 1 9
After 1576
the denunciation of M a c h i a v e l l i becomes a chorus i n which
Robert Greene, Thomas Lodge, Christopher Marlowe, Thomas Howell,
G a b r i e l Harvey, Richard Harvey, Thomas Nashe and others r a i s e d
t h e i r v o i c e s , pronouncing him a "poysoner", a »waiverer , a M

"master of h e l l " , a " c o r r u p t e r " , a "lawgiver t o those s t r i v i n g

t o e x c e l l i n t y r a n n i c " , a "brocher of D i a b o l l i c a l Atheisme".
They l i n k him w i t h treachery, apostasy, u n c l e a n l i n e s s ; and
lb) Meyer, o p * c i t * p. 17 ~~
17) I b i d , p. 22
18) F e l l h e i m e r , o p . c i t * p* 1 9 9
19) I b i d , p. 1 9 8
 -73-

they define h i s p r i n c i p l e s as " p e s t i l l e n t M a c h i a v e l l i a n

policy". ' /

This a t t i t u d e of outrage toward M a c h i a v e l l i , which

emerged i n t o l i t e r a t u r e during the 1 5 7 0 ' s and i n t o the drama
a l i t t l e more than a decade l a t e r , continued i n t o the first
quarter of the seventeenth century. I t was at i t s height
when the great tragedies and h i s t o r i c a l dramas were produced
f o r which the E l i z a b e t h a n age i s famous. By the end of the
r e i g n of James I , however, r i d i c u l e , c a r i c a t u r e and parody
were superseding the p o r t r a i t of M a c h i a v e l l i as Satan, and
prominent p e r s o n a l i t i e s , l i k e S i r F r a n c i s Bacon had written
t h e i r considered approval of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s thought. The
bogey had come and gone; but the character and i n t e n t of
M a c h i a v e l l i ' s work had been e f f e c t i v e l y d i s t o r t e d .
M a c h i a v e l l i ' s spectacular r i s e to prominence i n the
theatre and i n c o n t r o v e r s i a l l i t e r a t u r e as the synonym f o r
satanic v i l l a i n y , p a r t i c u l a r l y a f t e r 1 5 7 6 , need not surprise
wf i«s we bear i n mind the h i s t o r y of the time.
1
Even^Machia-
v e l l i wrote h i s P r i n c e , the. c o n f l i c t over supremacy raging
between the church and the secular s t a t e , which was i n essence
the c o n f l i c t between the medieval C h r i s t i a n and the renaissance
n a t i o n a l concept of the nature of power was under way in a l l
 -7k-

western Europe, By the time of E l i z a b e t h t h i s c o n f l i c t had

reaehedj.its peak i n England, The c r i s i s was r e s o l v e d , as we
know, during the l a s t decade of the s i x t e e n t h century with
the s u c c e s s f u l defence of E n g l i s h n a t i o n a l independence under
a sovereign k i n g and n a t i o n a l church. I t was p r e c i s e l y during
these years of c r i s i s that the stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n f l o u r i s h e d ;
f o r the Tudor abandonment of the t r a d i t i o n a l C a t h o l i c - f e u d a l
outlook and t h e i r vigorous p u r s u i t of n a t i o n a l despotic power
was proof to b e l i e v i n g C a t h o l i c s that E l i z a b e t h and her
c o u n c i l were dominated by " p o l i t i c k e atheisms'* j whereas the
p a r t i s a n s of E l i z a b e t h found the a c t i v i t i e s of those who prom-
oted C a t h o l i c claimants to the throne equally g u i l t y of wicked-
ness, i r r e l i g i o n , and s e d i t i o n .
Behind the M a c h i a v e l l i a n v i l l a i n l a y h i s t o r y ; and the
term " p o l i t i c k e a t h e i s t e " had a v e r y . s p e c i f i c meaning. Accord-
i n g t o the d i s c u s s i o n of E l i z a b e t h a n atheism i n chapter three
20
of Ernest A. Strathmann's S i r Walter R a l e i g h , inward or
secret atheism had i t s roots i n schism and heresy; that i s ,
because of the nature of power as the d i r e c t and v i s i b l e e v i -
dence of G-od's r u l e on e a r t h , the break-up of western Christen-
dom i n t o secular n a t i o n a l states bred both wickedness and d i s -

2 0 ) Ernest A. Strathmann, S i r Walter R a l e i g h , A Study i n

E l i z a b e t h a n Skepticism, New York, Columbia U n i v e r s i t y Press, 1951•
 -75-

loyalty. This wickedness and d i s l o y a l t y was a creeping thing

that i n f e c t e d people while they remained s c a r c e l y aware of i t s
growth; and i t s most v i r u l e n t expression was the a c t i v i t y of
the " p o l i t i c k s a t h e i s t e " who w i t h a f f e c t e d p i e t y , smooth words,
s u b t l e t y and secret crime wrested power from those appointed
by god to r u l e . The " p o l i t i c k e a t h e i s t e " i n other words, was
one who, while p r o f e s s i n g f a i t h , s e c r e t l y i n h i s heart or by
his deeds challenged the hierarchy e s t a b l i s h e d by God and the
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of l i f e i n h i s Word. As C a t h o l i c s and Protest-
ants both claimed to represent t r u t h and d i v i n e order, each
charged the other w i t h atheism once the cry was r a i s e d ; and
n e i t h e r n e c e s s a r i l y i m p l i e d a d i s b e l i e f i n God i n h i s opponent.
Thus, as Mr. Strathmann notes i n the opening of h i s chapter on
the question, atheism became what he c a l l s a " s n a r l word", which
any one might use against whoever disagreed w i t h them i n r e l i -
gious or p o l i t i c a l opinion. E l i z a b e t h was a " p o l i t i c k s
a t h e i s t e " to the supporters of the papacy, and a l s o to the
P u r i t a n s w i t h i n the A n g l i c a n Church; B u r l e i g h , L e i c e s t e r ,
Hatton^Essex might be " p o l i t i c k e a t h e i s t e s " to the e a r l s of
the North and t h e i r C a t h o l i c supporters. In these circumstances,
i t i s not s u r p r i s i n g that M a c h i a v e l l i , he who most s u c c i n c t l y
 -76-

and most b o l d l y s t a t e d the m a t e r i a l i s t view of s t a t e power,

should have become the symbol of Satanic power and apostasy.
By 1 5 6 0 the o r i g i n a l l y C a t h o l i c - i n s p i r e d denunciation of
M a c h i a v e l l i began to f i n d r e f l e c t i o n i n popular l i t e r a t u r e .
In 1 5 6 8 , the Sempill B a l l a d s were published i n Scotland.
These were s a t i r i c verses, w r i t t e n , not by C a t h o l i c s but by
P r o t e s t a n t s , against Mary Queen of S c o t s , whose a d v i s e r s were
21

c a l l e d " f a l s e Machivllians"# The C a t h o l i c supporters o f

the Queen r e p l i e d by charging that her Protestant opponents
were M a c h i a v e l l i a n s . But the book which placed I n the hands
of the reading p u b l i c the complete vocabulary of hatred and
p r e j u d i c e against M a c h i a v e l l i was the Contre-Machiavel of
pp

Innocent G e n t i l l e t . Published i n Prance i n 1 5 7 6 and t r a n s -

l a t e d i n t o E n g l i s h i n 1 5 7 7 by Simon P a t r i c k e , t h i s Huguenot
d i a t r i b e e s t a b l i s h e d M a c h i a v e l l i i n the mind o f those p a r t i c i -
p a t i n g i n the controversy as the equivalent of the d e v i l him-
self • Today, commentators g e n e r a l l y agree that G e n t i l l e t ' s
work i s l i b e l l o u s , unjust and f a l s e i n i t s r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of
the p r i n c i p l e s enunciated by M a c h i a v e l l i .

2 1 ) F e l l h e l m e r , o p . c i t . p. 1 8 3
2 2 ) Innocent G e n t i l l e t , A Discourse upon the meanes of w e l l
governing and maintaining i n good peace, a kingdome, or other
p r i n c i p a l i t i e s , Translated i n t o the E n g l i s h by Simon P a t r i c k e ,
London, P r i n t e d by Adam I s l i p , l 6 0 2 .
 -7-7-

G e n t i l l e t was a French P r o t e s t a n t , a lawyer, who in

1576 was e l e c t e d president of the Grenoble Parlement. Favor-?
ing the party of E v a n g e l i c a l reform,- he held that a l l the ills
of France stemmed from the c o r r u p t i o n of French p o l i t i c s by
mean u p s t a r t s , p a r t i c u l a r l y I t a l i a n s , whose l a c k of r e l i g i o n
and whose admiration f o r M a c h i a v e l l i were destroying C h r i s t i a n
government, G e n t i l l e t , i n the most unrestrained terms declared
M a c h i a v e l l i to be the very d e v i l h i m s e l f ; and he c a l l e d on
France to abandon h i s wicked doctrines and r e t u r n to the true
French government, B e l i e v i n g I n kings as d i v i n e l y guided
t

r u l e r s , and thoroughly medieval i n h i s views of monarchy, he

was outraged by the p r a c t i c a l and s c i e n t i f i c - a p p r o a c h of
M a c h i a v e l l i to problems of p o l i t i c a l power,. To him M a c h i a v e l l i
mocked at a l l things holy i n h i s p u r s u i t of p e r f e c t v i l l a i n y ;
t o him the r i g h t of the landed noble over both land and peoples
was h o l y , and therefore any other order was vill^/a)iy. He
therefore accused M a c h i a v e l l i of tyranny, atheism and immoral-
i t y , and warned that h i s p o l i c i e s destroyed a l l good order and
honesty. He c h a r a c t e r i z e d M a c h i a v e l l i as a "most p e r n i c i o u s
writer", 2 3

23) Innocent G e n t i l l e t , o p , c i t , p. 2
 -78-

The d e d i c a t i o n to Queen E l i z a b e t h i n the E n g l i s h e d i t i o n

of G e n t i l l e t ' s book reads i n p a r t : *
"But 0 how happy are yee because you have so
gratious a Queene, and also, f o r that the i n -
f e s t i o u s M a c h i a v e l l i a n d o c t r i n e , hath not
breathed nor penetrated i n the i n t r a i l s of
most happy England". 2lj.
The w r i t e r of the d e d i c a t i o n was wrong, as has been seen, i n
b e l i e v i n g that M a c h i a v e l l i ' s w r i t i n g s , or that M a c h i a v e l l i a n
p o l i c y had not yet appeared i n England; but h i s work must have
been a welcome handbook of v i t u p e r a t i o n t o the p o l i t i c a l and
r e l i g i o u s p o l e m i c i s t s of the time, and of p a r t i c u l a r value
to those whose minds leaned toward the medieval view of order
and g ood government.
A quotation or two from G e n t i l l e t may help to define the
b i a s of h i s mind and the mood i n which he wrote:
"...we see i t by the p r a c t i s e of the
M a c h i a v e l l i s t e s , which never shoot
at other marke, than t o r u i n a t e i n
Prance a l l the N o b i l i t i e , the b e t t e r
to e s t a b l i s h t h e i r t y r a n n i e , at ease
without contradictions...*and f o r t h i s
e f f e c t have cassed, v i o l a t e d and over-
throwne a l l the good lawes of the
kingdome, by the meanes of which i t
has alwaies h i t h e r t o been maintained..." 25
" . . . a l l h i s ( M a c h i a v e l l i ' s ) doctrine
shbotes at no other marke, but t o

2£j!) Innocent G e n t i l l e t , o p . c i t . p. 3
25) I b i d , p. 371
 -79-

" i n s t r u c t a p r i n c e to governe hims e l f

a f t e r h i s owne f a n c i e , not to d e l i v e r
h i s eare t o such as would shew him the
t r u t h , and to despbile h i m s e l f of a l l
p i e t e , conscience, and r e l i g i o n . " 26
"For f a i t h and promise, or of r i g h t and
reason, men may not speak i n Machiavels
schoole, unless i t be to mock at them.." 27
" . . . t h i s wicked A t h e i s t hath no other
purpose.... than to persuade a prince
to become a t y r a n t , and most wicked,
embracing a l l v i c e s , and chasing away
a l l virtues...." 28
The d i s t o r t i o n Of M a c h i a v e l l i of which G e n t i l l e t was
g u i l t y i s that of a person c a r r i e d beyong reason and j u s t i c e
by moral i n d i g n a t i o n . Undoubtedly M a c h i a v e l l i s proposals im-
1

p l i e d the overthrow of feudal forms and customs, and t o

G e n t i l l e t , t h e r e f o r e , a champion of the p a s t , they were

G e n t i l l e t s concern was f o r t r a d i t i o n a l France; and h i s

1

c a l l was t o the French to r a l l y to the standards of t h e i r an-

c e s t o r s , and against the innovators i n t h e i r l a n d .
it' . . . . l e t us not leave o f f , f o r a s o r t of
degenerate Frenchmen, adherents t o the
p e r n i c i o u s purposes of that race ( I t a l i a n s )
to m a i n t a i n and conserve the honors...of

26) Innicent G e n t i l l e t , o p . c l t . p. lij.2

27) I b i d , p. 22ij.
28) I b i l . p.
 -80-

"our French n a t i o n , which these b a s t a r d l i e

I t a l i a n s have contaminated and s o i l e d by
t h e i r c r u e l t i e s , massacres and p e r f i d i e s " . 29
The violence and c o l o r of h i s language, which abounds i n
terras such as "murderer", "bastard", " s t i n k i n g a t h e i s t " ,
"winders" and "deceivers", "murderers who c a l l themselves
abbreviators of j u s t i c e " , and the l i k e , mark h i s work as the
source book of the terminology f o r the stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n .
To him M a c h i a v e l l i i s "a very A t h e i s t and contemner of God".
His concern i s not w i t h meeting the maxims of M a c h i a v e l l i w i t h
reason ( f o r he could not accept the premise of Machiavelli»s
works even f o r d i s c u s s i o n : that s t a b l e government r e s t s upon
the a b i l i t y of the r u l e r to win the favor of the people and
to change w i t h the times). His book, t h e r e f o r e , i s merely an
e x h o r t a t i o n t o the people t o remain l o y a l to the past, and t o
uphold the good as i t had been known.
The views expressed i n the works of M a c h i a v e l l i and
G e n t i l l e t epitomized f o r the l i t e r a r y world of renaissance
England the basic c o n f l i c t that was rocking the whole of
western Europe; but the superior scope of the work of Machia-
v e l l i as that of the man who was l o o k i n g t o the f u t u r e , and

29) G e n t i l l e t , o p . c i t .
 -81

whose t h i n k i n g l a y w i t h the movement of h i s time, made him

not only the o b j e c t o f a t t a c k of those who l a c k e d h i s i n s i g h t

or r e j e c t e d h i s c o n c l u s i o n s , but the p r e c e p t o r o f both h i s

f r i e n d s and h i s enemies; f o r even those who d e s i r e d t o c l i n g

to t h e past had t o f u n c t i o n i n the p r e s e n t , and grapple with

r e a l i t y ; and no one i n s i x t e e n t h century B^jQope showed a

g r e a t e r t a l e n t f o r r e c o g n i z i n g p o l i t i c a l r e a l i t y than d i d

Mahhiavelli.

M a c h i a v e l l i had warned t h a t the establishment o f a wholly

new s t a t e was a most dangerous and d i f f i c u l t task; and he had

a d v i s e d r u l e r s o f new p r i n c i p a l i t i e s t h a t they must expect t o

be beset by snares and ambushes on every s i d e , and t o be e x i l e s

from the f u l l f a v o r of a l l . G e n t i l l e t s a t t a c k would not have

1

s u r p r i s e d him, s i n c e i t was he who had s a i d :

"The d i f f i c u l t i e s which a r e i n c i d e n t s t o
the keepinge and continewance of a newe
g o t t e n p r i n c i p a l i t i e doe r i s e p a r t l i e
from the Lawes S t a t u t e s and ordinances
which the P r i n c e shalbe f o r c e d t o make
f o r the s a f t i e o f h i s owne e s t a t e .
P f o r e t h i s i s t o be noted that there
i s nothinge soe harde t o e n t e r p r i s e
nor soe d o w b t e f u l l t o ende, nor soe
daungerous to prosecute as t o make a mans s e l f
Author of newe lawes or customes. F o r he
that i s the f i r s t b r i n g e r i n o f them shalbe
 -82-

"sure to haue a l l those h i s Enamyes

that reaped any commoditye by the
olde and those but h i s colde frendes
that hope f o r any p r o f f i t t e by the
newe which coldnes dothe springe
p a r t l l e f o r feare of t h e i r adver-
s a r i e s to whom the olde lawes were
b e n e f i c i a l l , and p a r t l l e throughe
mens i n c r e d u l i t i e , which w i l l never
c e r t e i n l y beleue any thinge to come
unlesse they see i t confirmed by
manifest experience", 3 0
The stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n , then, was the c r y s t a l l i z a t i o n
of the spectre of d i s o r d e r and godlessness that haunted a
people'changing from one order.of s o c i e t y to another. Inspired
by the conservative's dreadful warning against the breakdown
of m o r a l i t y and human r e s t r a i n t under God's law, he dramatized
a danger that was i l l u s o r y ; and he was i n h i s p e r v e r s i t y and
excess fundamentally inhuman, a nightmare; f o r , i n f a c t , as
M a c h i a v e l l i had noted, "Men cannot be e i t h e r wholly good or
wholly bad". 31
F u r t h e r , on the stage, he d e a l t h i s blows against the
noble whose f e a r s had f i r s t evoked h i s image> and was used,
as w i l l be seen i n an exmination of the drama, by progress
against r e a c t i o n .

30) The P r i n c e p p . 22-23

31) The Discourses, I , x x v i , p. l8i+ and x x v i i , p. 186
 -83-

Chapter IV

The Romantic Interpretation.

When r e a l i t y i s so t r e a t e d that the t r u t h expressed i s

only p a r t i a l ; when the a r t i s t leaves i l l - d e f i n e d or out of
focus the r e l a t i o n s h i p of the p a r t t o the whole, then the
hand of romance i s a t work. The medieval romance, f o r example,
made an extravagance of l o v e , nature and adventure, and was
i n essence f a n t a s t i c , that i s , b u i l t upon i l l u s i o n , Romance
i s often accepted by the u n i n i t i a t e d as t r u t h , and indulged
i n by the ignorant as f a c t . I t can be conscious, and designed
not t o convince but t o e n t e r t a i n ; or i t can be u n i n t e n t i o n a l ,
or evoked by a r e l u c t a n c e or i n c a p a c i t y t o face f a c t s . A
quick o r passionate r e a c t i o n to something as e i t h e r good or
bad, can produce a b i a s s e d , extravagant or romantic i n t e r p r e -
1
tation. As the d e f i n i t i o n i n the Oxford D i c t i o n a r y i n d i c a t e s ,

1) Romance - prose or r a r e l y verse t a l e w i t h scene and i n c i d e n t s

remote from everyday l i f e , c l a s s of l i t e r a t u r e c o n s i s t i n g of such 1
t a l e s : set of f a c t s , episode, love a f f a i r , e t c . , suggesting such
t a l e s by i t s strangeness or moving nature; atmosphere c h a r a c t e r -
i z i n g such t a l e s , mental tendency t o be i n f l u e n c e d by i t , sym-
p a t h e t i c imaginativeness; an exaggeration, picturesque falsehood.

1
 - &v-

the core of the terra romance i s the idea of d e v i a t i o n from

the norm, the conception of e f f e c t heightened by a b s t r a c t i o n
from the f u l l or p r e c i s e t r u t h .
I n the p o r t r a y a l of the character presented by c e r t a i n
E l i z a b e t h a n dramatists as M a c h i a v e l l i a n , romance r u l e d the
minds of the poets. Whether or not the romancing was d e l i -
berate, the poets alone could say, and i t i s not necessary
t o t h i s d i s c u s s i o n that t h i s be known; f o r the concern here
i s t o d i s t i n g u i s h between the romantic and the r e a l Machia-
v e l l i a n on the E l i z a b e t h a n stage, not to attempt to analyze
the i n t e n t of the w r i t e r s .
Edward Meyer i n h i s work, M a c h i a v e l l i and the E l i z a b e t h -
an Drama, has 'discovered 39^- references to M a c h i a v e l l i , a l -
most a l l of which r e f l e c t b i a s i n the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the
meaning of Machiavellianism. Jeannette F e l l h e i m e r , i n her
t h e s i s , r e f e r r e d t o p r e v i o u s l y , devoted a chapter to a d i s -
cussion of the r e a c t i o n t o Machiavelli i n England i n the age
of Shakespeare, and noted that the Stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n t y p i -
f i e d a h o s t i l i t y that was i n s p i r e d c h i e f l y by a r e l i g i o u s pre-
j u d i c e ^ having i t s root i n the c o n t r a d i c t i o n between the
moral idea of medieval Christendom as an empire ordained and
 -85-

guided by God and the pragmatic p r a c t i c e of the r u l e r s of

the renaissance s t a t e s . The present w r i t e r does not e n t i r e l y
agree w i t h Miss F e l l h e l m e r , f e e l i n g that the c o n f l i c t of the
time was i n essence p o l i t i c a l , although i t expressed i t s e l f
i n r e l i g i o u s terms.
Miss F e l l h e l m e r s stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s d i s t i n g u i s h e d
f

by c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s noted a l s o by Meyer. They are: egotism;

a w i l l i n g n e s s to commit any crime; a d i s r e g a r d of the i n t e r e s t s
of a l l but those whose a i d i s indispensable to the r e a l i z a t i o n
of a d e s i r e d aim; a use of violence and c r a f t ; a s k i l l i n the
a r t of deception; a readiness to v i c t i m i z e the innocent; a
tendency to s o l i l o q u i z e upon h i s own v i n d i c t i v e n e s s and
murderous thoughts; a h a b i t of t e l l i n g h i s bloddy thoughts to
accomplices who are then s i l e n c e d ; a light-heartedness i n the
performance of crime and a complacent acceptance of the e f f i -
cacy of wickedness; a p e r s i s t e n c e irjmisdeed and no repentance
at death; an enmity to God and a consequent atheism; motiva-
t i o n by expediency, and contempt f o r moral scruple; and a
pleased a p p r e c i a t i o n of the advantage enjoyed by being f r e e
of a l l p r i n c i p l e .
This summing up by Miss F e l l h e i m e r of the stage Machia-
 -86-

v e l l i a n ±.s; i n t h i s w r i t e r ' s o p i n i o n , e x c e l l e n t . The stage

M a c h i a v e l l i a n was, indeed, a l l the things she declared he was,
and each c h a r a c t e r i s t i c she a t t r i b u t e s to him could be i n -
f e r r e d from the d i s c u s s i o n of the Prince by M a c h i a v e l l i ; but
the stage character remains a f a l s i f i c a t i o n , a distortion, a
romanticized v e r s i o n of the p r i n c e approved by M a c h i a v e l l i
because he i s presented both outside the context of h i s t o r y
(Barabbas, Lightborn) and devoid of the c o n s t r u c t i v e s o c i a l
and p o l i t i c a l aims (Mortimer, Tamburlahe) without which he
cannot be termed t r u l y M a c h i a v e l l i a n ; f o r the object of Ma-
c h i a v e l l i 's d i s c u s s i o n of the p r i n c e was not i n s t r u c t i o n i n
v i l l a i n y , i t was the r e s o l u t i o n i n t o order of s o c i a l and
p o l i t i c a l chaos. The stage. M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s i n o r i g i n , there-
f o r e , the product of observers whose imperfect v i s i o n saw i n
the t h e s i s of M a c h i a v e l l i , not ultimate l i b e r a t i o n , peace and
a new ordeijbut r e p r e s s i o n and d i s a s t e r ; and not merely d i s -
a s t e r but a d e l i b e r a t e d i s r u p t i o n of order.
Thus Tamburlane d e c l a r e s :

I w i l l p e r s i s t a t e r r o r to the world.
I I ( I V , i , 200) 2
Barabas screams I n f r e n z i e d hate:
so I l i v e , p e r i s h may a l l the world.
(V,v,10 ) 3

2) Christopher Marlowe, Tamburlane the Great, London, Methuen

& Co., 1930.
3) Marlowe, The Jew of Malta, London, Methuen & Co., 1931.
 -87-

Dr. Pauatus voices the wish to defy u n i v e r s a l law:

To do whatever Paustus s h a l l command,
Be i t to make the moon drop from her sphere,
Or the ocean to overwhelm the world. .
( I , i i i , 39 " Ip. ) *
Macbeth invokes u n i v e r s a l d e s t r u c t i o n :
Though you u n t i e the winds and l e t them f i g h t
Against the churches; though yesty waves
Confound and swallow n a v i g a t i o n up:
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down,
Though c a s t l e s topple on t h e i r warders* heads,
Though palaces, and pyramids do slope
Their heads to t h e i r foundations: though the
treasure
Of Nature's germen, tumble a l l together,
Even t i l l d e s t r u c t i o n s i c k e n : answer me
To what I ask you.
( IV, 1, 51 - 60 ) 5

Chief among the dramatisers of the romantic M a c h i a v e l l -

i a n i s Christopher ^arlowe - the o r i g i n a t o r of the notorious
stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n , Barabas - whose p l a y s , from Tamburlane
t o Edward I I are coloured by the author's preoccupation with
the struggle f o r power. I f i t i s c o r r e c t that Marlowe's
plays came out i n the order - Tamburlane, The Jew of Malta,
Doctor Paustus, Edward I I - i t i s p o s s i b l e to trace i n the
a t t i t u d e toward ambition a t r a n s i t i o n from y o u t h f u l enthusiasm
f o r i t s spectacular achievements to a r e v u l s i o n from i t s excesses

4) Marlowe, The T r a g i c a l l H i s t o r y of Dr. Faustus, London,

Methuen & Co,, 1932.
5) W i l l i a m Shakespeare, "Macbeth", the,Works of Shakespeare,
Oxford, The Shakespeare Head Press, 1938.
 -88-

and s i n i s t e r i m p l i c a t i o n s . I n the course of these p l a y s ,

Marlowe's approach s e t t l e s i n t o that o r i g i n a t e d by the
A mat [ecemto

opponents of the "new men"; more l i k e that of those who de-

A

nounced r e a l i s t s i n p o l i t i c s as " p o l i t i c k e a t h e i s t e s " . His

a t t a c k i n h i s one p o l i t i c a l p l a y , Edward I I , i s d i r e c t e d , how-
ever, against the insurgent n o b i l i t y ; a g a i n s t , indeed, that
s e c t i o n of s o c i e t y from which the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i
as a v i l l a i n f i r s t was heard.
I n Tamburlane, h i s f i r s t p l a y , Marlowe created i n heroic
proportions the man of war, unconquerable except by Fortune
and Death. I n h i s e x a l t a t i o n of Tamburlane*s force of character,
r e s o l u t i o n and s k i l l i n war, and h i s passionate devotion to n
nothing but war, Marlowe seems to be i n sympathy w i t h M a c h i a v e l l i .
Many of the scenes i n both parts of the p l a y p o r t r a y the k i n d
of c o n f l i c t , demonstration 6f w i t and daring, cunning and
shrewdness, w i t h which one meets i n the discussions of the
prince i n the pages of M a c h i a v e l l i . At the conclusion of
Part I I , however, Tamburlane has become merely an a r t i s t i n "
bloodshed and conquest; h i s arrogance and impatience have
i s o l a t e d him from h i s o f f i c e r s who formerly enjoyed a k i n d of
intimacy with him as companions-in-arms; he r e j o i c e s i n nothing
but conquest and d e s t r u c t i o n ; and measures the extent of h i s
 -89-

greatness by the height of the heaps of s k u l l s h i s prowess

creates. The whole community, p r i n c e s , people and p r i e s t s ,
i s i n arms against him. But he i s i n s a t i a b l e and unconquer-
able:
Tamburlane: T e c h e l l e s , l e t us march,
And weary death w i t h bearing souls to h e l l ,
II ( V , i i i , 76 - 77)
This i s not the aim that M a c h i a v e l l i set h i s p r i n c e ,
e i t h e r e x p l i c i t l y or by i m p l i c a t i o n ; I t i s , r a t h e r , one of the
e r r o r s i n t o which, M a c h i a v e l l i warned, a prince may fall.
Nevertheless, the d e t a i l s of the s i t u a t i o n s Tamburlane faces,
and the working out of the c o n f l i c t s among the generals and
n o b i l i t y suggest ah a p p r e c i a t i o n of event not u n l i k e that of
M a c h i a v e l l i ; and, i t i s c l e a r , Marlowe never abandons h i s i n -
t e n t i o n to rouse sympathy f o r the v i g o r and the grand scale
of Tamburlane's a c t i o n s .
The q u a l i t i e s of Tamburlane, one might argue, are, except
for c r a f t i n e s s and r u t h l e s s n e s s , those ascribed to any romantic
of
hero^legendary fame. This hero i s the f o x , however, as w e l l
as the l i o n ; and he i s c e r t a i n l y no knight-errant pursuing the
honor accorded the good and the brave. He has wit and e l o -
quence which he uses cunningly to h i s own advantage. He
laughs at a u t h o r i t y ; and commits p e r f i d y w i t h aplomb. Further,
he i s of lowly o r i g i n , and takes p r i d e i n i t . A mere shepherd,
 -90-

he sets himself up against emperors and k i n g s , innocent of

any f e e l i n g of g u i l t i n doing so; f o r he sees i n h i s own
a b i l i t y the j u s t i f i c a t i o n f o r h i s deeds. He wins Theridamas
and T e s c h e l l e s , m i l i t a r y commanders of the P e r s i a n s , to h i s
camp; and then forms an a l l i a n c e w i t h the unwary and over-
confident Cosroe, against Cosroe's own brother, Mycetes, the
k i n g of P e r s i a . He then adds to h i s g l o r y i n the eyes of h i s
supporters by o u t w i t t i n g t h i s p r i n c e , h i s a l l y . In a l l this
M a c h i a v e l l i s concept of the p r i n c e , h i s p r i n c i p l e s of r e a l -
1

i s t i c p o l i t i c s and h i s a n a l y s i s of the processes of power are

honored. M
a r l o w e Indeed i n h i s p r e s e n t a t i o n of Tamburlane
seems to
"...esteem rather those who are than those who can
be generous; and those who would know how to govern
s t a t e s , rather than those who have the r i g h t to
govern, but l a c k the knowledge". 6
The d e l i b e r a t e c a l c u l a t i o n , r e s o l u t i o n and p r i d e , ambition
and daring of the deception of Sosroe are t y p i c a l of the
prince as M a c h i a v e l l i conceived him; and, defending h i s action,
Tamburlane p o i n t s to nature as would the p r i n c e of M a c h i a v e l l i :
Tamburlane: Nature, that framed us of four elements,
Doth teach us a l l to have a s p i r i n g minds:
Our s o u l s , whose f a c u l t i e s can comprehend
The wondrous a r c h i t e c t u r e of the world,
And measure every wandering planet's course,

6) N i c c o l o M a c h i a v e l l i , The Discourses. I , Dedication, p. 102

 -91-

S t i l l climbing a f t e r knowledge i n f i n i t e ,
And always moving as the r e s t l e s s spheres,
W i l l us to wear ourselves, and never r e s t ,
U n t i l we reach the r i p e s t f r u i t of a l l ,
. That p e r f e c t b l i s s and sole f e l i c i t y ,
• The sweet f r u i t i o n of an e a r t h l y crown.
( I Tamburlane, I I , v i i , 18-29)
M a c h i a v e l l i had s a i d :
"For when men are no longer obliged to f i g h t from
n e c e s s i t y , they f i g h t from ambition, which
passion i s so powerful i n the hearts of men that
i t never leaves them, no matter to what heights
they may r i s e " . 7
Tamburlane, having r e a l i z e d "the sweet f r u i t i o n of ,an
e a r t h l y crown" l a t e r , goes on to defy the gods and to aspire
to a throne i n heaven.
Ambition i s n a t u r a l , says Tamburlane, even as ^ a c h i a v e l l i ;
but i n h i s l a c k of any c o n s t r u c t i v e p o l i t i c a l purpose, he fails
to measure up to the true M a c h i a v e l l i a n prince who, the crea-
ture of sound, p r a c t i c a l thought, i s concerned r e a l i s t i c a l l y
w i t h the founding of a stable s t a t e , based on popular favor
as the guarantee of h i s own wealth and power.
The tempo of the p l a y mounts throughout the f i r s t p a r t ,
w i t h g l o r y gathering about Tamburlane; but the t u r n away from
admirable h e a l t h , v i g o r and appealing self-assurance, the

7) Niccolo M a c h i a v e l l i , op. c i t . , I , x x x v i i , p. 208

 -92-

growth of the perverse and therefore non-Machiavellian character-

i s t i c s , begins to make i t s e l f f e l t even before the conclusion
of part one. Tamburlane i s , from the beginning, q u i t e n a t u r a l l y ,
denounced by the kings he defeats; but c r i t i c i s m l a t e r i s heard
o

from a c a p t a i n of h i s own f o r c e s , and Zenocrate, h i s lfflving w i f e ,

grows anxious, though she continues to defend him.
The evidence of a growing and h a b i t u a l v i o l e n c e i n Tambur-
lane and the r e a c t i o n to i t w i t h i n h i s camp i s s i g n i f i c a n t of
the non-Machiavellian i n h i s character; f o r the i n c r e a s i n g
b r u t a l i t y of. h i s campaigns tends to j u s t i f y h i s enemies' denun-
c i a t i o n s and t o undermine the love and admiration of h i s own
following; The e p i t h e t s h u r l e d against him can no longer be
a t t r i b u t e d s o l e l y t o the p r e j u d i c e of the great by b i r t h . He
encamps now only three days before a c i t y , which i s gaiaod t o
the ground i f i t r e s i s t s , **e has become indeed a scourge and
terror.
The o r i g i n a l b r i g h t ambition to advance himself and h i s
f o l l o w e r s i s slimming. Nothing can now s o f t e n Tamburlane, beset
by an insane~drive t o exceed the achievements of a l l conquerors.
The pleas of Zenocrate/ f o r the l i v e s of her f a t h e r , her towns-
f o l k and countrymen f a i l , as Tamburlane f i g h t s down a l l "thougts
effeminate and f a i n t " , f i e r c e l y s e t t i n g aside l o v e and beauty,
 -93-

which torment him. He i s unmoved by the appeal of the twenty

v i r g i n s of Demascus; and i s represented as t u r n i n g women over
f o r execution "feo h i s s o l d i e r y . Now, l i k e a man possessed,
seized by a passion f o r war alone, he consecrates himself
s o l e l y t o conquest:
Tamburlane: I thus conceiving, and subduing both
(love and beauty)
• ••••••••
S h a l l give the world t o note, f o r a l l my b i r t h ,
That v i r t u e s o l e l y i s . the sum o f g l o r y ,
And fashions men w i t h true n o b i l i t y .
I ( V, i i , 120; 125-127)
The use of v i r t u e here, as i n Taraburlane's assurance t o
Techelles and others of h i s commanders whom he has made k i n g s —
Tamburlane: Your b i r t h s s h a l l be no blemish t o your fame,
Bor v i r t u e i s the fount whence honor springs.
I (IV, i v , 130-131)

i s c e r t a i n l y that of M a c h i a v e l l i ; i t implies inherent power,

h e a l t h and vigor of mind and body, exceptional c a p a c i t y , p a r t i -
c u l a r l y the a t t r i b u t e s o f the warrior i n extraordinary degree.
The p l a y was tremendously popular with the Elizabethans.
I t apparently struck a note t o which they were s i n g u l a r l y sen-
s i t i v e , s i n g u l a r l y responsive. Undoubtedly that note was the
l i b e r a t i o n of the lowly from the oppressions of the great; the
a s s e r t i o n of the r i g h t of the base-born t o the r i c h e s of the
earth; the d e c l a r a t i o n of independence of the n a t i o n a l group
from the c o n t r o l of i m p e r i a l and papal power, of the i n d i v i d u a l
 -9k-

i n short from the r e s t r i c t i o n s of feudalism. I t was the

trumpet b l a s t of the renaissance. Tamburlane was the de f a c t o
prince h o l d i n g h i s p o s i t i o n by v i r t u e of h i s a b i l i t y , and
r e l y i n g on h i s own counsel and s k i l l i n warfare, and the v o l -
\intary a l l e g i a n c e of the people. He appears, c h a l l e n g i n g a
d i v i d e d and incompetent group of r u l e r s whose realm i s shot
through w i t h discontent and i n s u b o r d i n a t i o n , and i s ravaged
by invaders, even as I t a l y was when M a c h i a v e l l i wrote, and as
England was when Henry V I I % landed at M u f o r d &aven.
Tamburlane, however, holds out no p e r s p e c t i v e of a new
and b e t t e r order; power alone i n t e r e s t s him, as i t does a l l
the romantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n s . Apparently i n d i f f e r e n t to the
growing o p p o s i t i o n , he p e r s i s t s i n h i s v i o l e n c e , and indulges
more^/alid more i n s e l f - a d m i r a t i o n . He rants about himself and
speaks of h i s d i v i n e essence; he i s made, he says, "arch
monarch of the e a r t h . " b y the hand of Jove", not f o r
"deeds of bounty and n o b i l i t y " , but to apply himself "In war,
i n blood, i n death, i n c r u e l t y " . He w i l l , he says -
...plague such peasants as r e s i s t i n me
The power of Heaven's e t e r n a l majesty.
I I ( IV, 1, 157-158)
His determination t o spread h o r r o r :
I w i l l , w i t h engines never e x e r c i s ' d ,
Conquer, sack, and u t t e r l y consume
Your c i t i e s and your,golden palaces
 -95-

I w i l l p e r s i s t a t e r r o r to the world*
I I ( IV, i , 192-191).; 201)

He c a r r i e s t h i s program out w i t h dreadful thoroughness i n

Babylon. He double-crosses the governor o f Babylon by o f f e r -
ing him l i f e i n r e t u r n f o r i n f o r m a t i o n , and when the informa-
t i o n i s given he hangs the governor i n chains and has him shot.
He h u r l s men, women and c h i l d r e n i n t o a lake of asphalt. He
taunts h i s v i c t i m s . He p e r s i s t s i n v i o l e n c e ; a course f a t a l
to a ^ j i n c e , M e h i a v e l l i
a n a d observed, and one which was cer-
t a i n l y a l i e n a t i n g the people, and u n i t i n g and i n c r e a s i n g h i s
enemies. C l e a r l y the elements of p e r v e r s i t y , extravagance and
destructiveness of the romantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n are becoming
stronger*
While i t can be argued that such scenes as those at Babylon
<4*0*

were designed p o s s i b l y to t h r i l l and appeal the groundlings,

or to r a i s e the p i t c h of unrestrained conquering a c t i o n to i t s
extreme, they are c o n s i s t e n t w i t h the main argument presented
here: that the development of Tamburlane appears as a l i m i t e d ,
imperfect r e f l e c t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i a n thought, which reveals
i n Marlowe an a p p r e c i a t i o n of the d a r i n g , self-assurance,
courage and i n g e n u i t y of h i s prince (which M a c h i a v e l l i never
f a i l e d t o accord men of a b i l i t y ) but f a i l s to r e v e a l any
advocacy of c o n s t r u c t i v e statemanship. Tamburlane e x h i b i t s
the unbalanced excess that, M a c h i a v e l l i warned, takes h o l d
of a r u l e r who permits himself to ignore law and get l o s t i n
self-esteem. Marlowe, however, one f e e l s , i s himself i n t o x i -
cated by the excesses he describes.
Tamburlane, i n p a r t I of the p l a y , i s the prototype of
M a c h i a v e l l i ' s man of v i r t u e , the new p r i n c e favored only by
opportunity. He i s f e a r l e s s , confident, s k i l f u l i n war and
diplomacy, open, f r e e and generous w i t h h i s f o l l o w e r s whose
fortunes he advances w i t h h i s own. He i s a u t h o r i t a t i v e and
commanding, i n bearing, and eloquent i n speech. He i s capable,
however, of deception and treachery when they serve h i s
i n t e r e s t s , and he i s r u t h l e s s i n the punishment and d e s t r u c t i o n
of those who oppose him. He honors r e l i g i o n i n that he rep-
resents h i m s e l f as "the scourge of god" and regards himself
as favored by heaven; but the god he serves i s never c l e a r l y
defined, and i s r e f e r r e d to as Jove, Mahomet, Majesty of
Heaven, the god of thunder and revenge, and the immortal god.
Tamburlane i s out to conquer the world, to humble emperors, to
map c o n t i n e n t s , and to reorganize governments under the r u l e of
h i s f o l l o w e r s appointed by him as kings. His triumphal pro-
gress and the r a p i d growth of h i s f o l l o w i n g t e s t i f y to h i s
 -97-

a b i l i t y and the p o p u l a r i t y of h i s l e a d e r s h i p . Part I of the

play concludes w i t h the sjmipathy f o r Tamburlane s t i l l i n the
ascendant; and the truce w i t h which i t comes to an end es-
t a b l i s h e s Tamburlane as the absolute p r i n c e , whose empire i s
administered by kings deputized to r u l e under him; that i s ,
by a government which ^ a c h i a v e l l i describes as the most
a

d i f f i c u l t to conquer.
Tamburlane, as part I I shows, however, f a l l s a v i c t i m
to that f a u l t which M a c h i a v e l l i notes so often brings about
the downfall of otherwise capable men. He p e r s i s t s i n c r u e l t y
and becomes i n d i f f e r e n t to the favor of the people. He f u r t h e r
makes the e r r o r of f a i l i n g to exterminate a l l members of the
f a m i l y of the p r i n c e he had overthrown, and makes p o s s i b l e
the regrouping of h i s enemies under t h e leadership of t h e i r
hereditary prince.
A l l t h i s suggests the i n f l u e n c e of M a c h i a v e l l i . There i s ,
however, about Tamburlane, an extravagance and bombast that i s
not of t h i s world, and must have been excessive even to some
E l i z a b e t h a n l o v e r s of the "high-astounding" i n language and
life. I t seems l i k e l y , t h e r e f o r e , that Marlowe knew and used

8) The P r i n c e , IV, 15-16

 -98-

M a c h i a v e l l i ' s w r i t i n g s , but was f o r some reason impelled t o

preoccupy himself w i t h the problems r a t h e r of excessive am-
b i t i o n than of mature statesmanship.
The destructiveness that was strong i n Tamburlane becomes
dominant i n Barabas, the c h i e f character of The Jew of Malta,
Moved only by love of g o l d , Barabas^is prepared to r e s o r t t o
every subterfuge and every crime t o save or recover h i s wealth.
He e x h i b i t s i n d e t a i l the whole-hearted, headlong and unrepen-
tant v i l l a i n y a t t r i b u t e d to the t y p i c a l remantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n
of the E l i z a b e t h a n stage; and he i s presented s p e c i f i c a l l y by
Marlowe as an exponent of M a c h i a v e l l i a n teaching.
The prologue t o The Jew of Malta i s spoken by M a c h i a v e l l i ,
who introduces the play as
the tragedy of a Jew,
Who smiles to see how f u l l h i s bags are cramm'd;
Which money was not got without my means.
(Prologue, 30-32)
The prologue rehearses the a l l e g e d c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s and
views of M a c h i a v e l l i . The soul of M a c h i a v e l l i , we are t o l d ,
went to Prance to r e s i d e i n the Duke of Guise, the m i l i t a n t
and notorious leader of theCatholic f a c t i o n i n Prance. Upon
the death of Guise, we l e a r n , M a c h i a v e l l i s soul crossed t o
1

England, " t o f r o l i c w i t h i t s f r i e n d s " , by obvious i n f e r e n c e ,

the E n g l i s h C a t h o l i c s . The soul acknowledges that i t has
 -99-

both f r i e n d s and enemies, but that i t disdains the opinion

of a l l . Those who c r i t i c i s e M a c h i a v e l l i , we are assured,
*

s e c r e t l y r e l y on h«m t o guide them to the r e a l i z a t i o n of t h e i r

ambition, p a r t i c u l a r l y i f they aim at pre-eminence i n the
C a t h o l i c church. ;Further, those who r e j e c t him are destroyed
by those who s t i l l f o l l o w h i s guidance. He i s , t h e r e f o r e ,
indispensable t o success. He i s contemptuous of r e l i g i o n ,
laughs a t b e l i e f i n auguries, and holds that "there i s no s i n
but ignorance". He p o i n t e d l y challenges the p r i n c i p l e of
h e r e d i t a r y t i t l e t o power, arguing
Might f i r s t made k i n g s , and laws were then most sure
When, l i k e the Draco's, they were w r i t i n blood.
(Prologue, 20-21)

M i l i t a r y strength triumphs over l e a r n i n g , he i n s i s t s .

, Primed w i t h t h i s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i a n d o c t r i n e ,
the audience views the career of the d i a b o l i c a l Barabas, whom
they have been c a l l e d upon to
grace......as he deserves,
And l e t him not be entertained the worse
Because he favors me ( M a c h i a v e l l i ) .
(Prologue, 33-35)
Anyone f a m i l i a r w i t h the works of M a c h i a v e l l i can appre-
c i a t e the d i s t o r t i o n and o v e r - s i m p l i f i c a t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s
p r e s e n t a t i o n of the prince i n t h i s prologue. Marlowe has d e l i -
b e r a t e l y selected the notorious representative of the enemies
of Protestantism i n a neighbouring state as the abode of the
 -100

soul of M a c h i a v e l l i . The Guise, i t should be remembered,

was prominently associated w i t h the Massacre of St. Bartholo-
mew's Day, a mass C a t h o l i c outrage against the French Protes-
tant p a r t y , which was supported by England. Marlowe, thus by
the f a m i l i a r technique of those who seek t o i n f l u e n c e thought
without r e s o r t t o reason or demonstration, associates what he
i s about t o discuss w i t h something' already abhorrent to the
mind addressed, andjproceeds, by innuendo to ensnare everyone?

i n the net of suspicion,- although the Catholics are selected

f o r a s p e c i a l smear. He then proceeds to the l i e d i r e c t ,
by saying ^ a c h i a v e l l i despised r e l i g i o n . Having demoralized
h i s audience on the subject to be discussed, and ignored the
broad general aims of M a c h i a v e l l i s t h e s i s ^
1
Marlowe con-
cludes w i t h c i t i n g two fundamental points i n M a c h i a v e l l i ' s
thought: that power r e s t s on force upon which law a l s o de-
pends, and that force i s greater, or more e f f e c t i v e i n achiev-
i n g one's aim, than i s l e a r n i n g , or the way of persuasion.
The character he then s e l e c t s as the model of M a c h i a v e l l i a n
thought and a c t i o n i s an outcast^ an un-Chrisfcian Jew, and
an a v a r i c i o u s merchant and money-lender. Prejudice could not
be b e t t e r barbed and winged.
Barabas, the o r i g i n a l , f u l l y developed and grossest of
u
t h e " M a c h i a v e l l i a n " v i l l a i n s i s a sti^dy of fiendishness. He
i s a v a r i c i o u s , d i a b o l i c a l l y cunning and unscrupulous, l a c k i n g
 -101-

i n any decent human f e e l i n g . He i s devoted only to money t o

which he w i l l s a c r i f i c e everything, i n c l u d i n g h i s only and
l o v e l y daughter, A b i g a i l . He i s quite without p o l i t i c a l sig-
nificance. Gold, not empire i s h i s object; contempt f o r C h r i s t i a n s
and triumph i n t h e i r discomfiture h i s pre-occupation; death i n a
trap he s e t f o r others, h i s end.,
This p l a y , however, The JexJ of M a l t a , Marlowe announces as
an e x p o s i t i o n of p r a c t i c e according to M a c h i a v e l l i ; and, indeed,
many of the l i n e s of Barabas are b i t t e r and damning parodies of
M a c h i a v e l l i a n maxims. For example -
Barabas: No, Barabas i s born of b e t t e r chance
And fram'd of f i n e r mould than common men,
That measure naught but by the present time.
A reaching thought w i l l search h i s deepest w i t s ,
And casts w i t h cunning f o r the time to come;
For e v i l s are apt to happen every day.
( I , i i , 219 - 22li)
Barabas: Be r u l ' d by me, f o r i n extremity
We ought to make bar of no p o l i c y .
(I, i i , 272 - 273)
for r e l i g i o n
Barabas: Hides many m i s c h i e f s from s u s p i c i o n .
( I , i , 281 - 282)
Barabas: And when we g r i n we b i t e ; yet are our looks
As innocent and harmless as a lamb's.
( I I , i i i , 21 - 22)

Barabas: (To Ithamore)...be thou v o i d of these a f f e c t i o n s

Compassion, l o v e , v a i n hope, and h e a r t l e s s f e a r ;
Be mov'd by n o t h i n g , see thou p i t y none,
But to t h y s e l f smile when the C h r i s t i a n s moan.
( I I , i l l , 1 7 0 - 173)
 -102-

Barabas: No..Barabas....
....since by wrong thou g o t t ' s t a u t h o r i t y
Maintain i t bravely by f i r m p o l i c y ;
At l e a s t u n p r o f i t a b l y lose i t not;
For he that l i v e t h i n a u t h o r i t y ,
And n e i t h e r gets him f r i e n d s nor f i l l s h i s bags,
L i v e s l i k e the ass that Aesop speaketh of....
(V, i i , 3k - k-0)
Barabas: S l i p not thine opportunity, f o r f e a r too l a t e
Thou seek'st f o r much, but canst not compass I t .
(V, i i , lj.5 - lj-6)
Barabas: Thus l o v i n g n e i t h e r , w i l l I l i v e w i t h both,
Making a p r o f i t o f my p o l i c y ;
And he from whom my most advantage comes,
S h a l l be my f r i e n d .
(V, i i , 111 - 111).)

In these l i n e s a savage burlesque i s made of Machiavelli»s

eulogy of f o r e s i g h t , p o l i t i c a l f l e x i b i l i t y and d i s s i m u l a t i o n .
There i s a burlesque of h i s advice on the n e c e s s i t y to d i s c i -
p l i n e f e e l i n g i n the i n t e r e s t of r e a l i z i n g one's o b j e c t i v e ,
and on the t a c t i c s one must adopt t o r e t a i n a throne acquired
by conquest; there i s a burlesque of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s warning
that one must defend and preserve one's own i n t e r e s t s and
advance.one•s own p o s i t i o n ; and on the arguments that merit
r e q u i r e s opportunity, that one must choose one's a l l i e s or
associates f o r the advantage they a f f o r d , and that f o r e s t a l l i n g
i s the best means o f thwarting a conspiracy. I n a l l , the
t r a v e s t y of M a c h i a v e l l i l i e s i n a t t r i b u t i n g t o the executor of
the actions an e x c l u s i v e l y s e l f i s h , e v i l and d e s t r u c t i v e i n t e n t ,
 -103-

As has already been noted, absolute egotism and e s s e n t i a l

e v i l , so thoroughly represented i n Barabas are at the heart
of the romantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n as he becomes known on the
E l i z a b e t h a n stage. With these goes atheism, symbolized i n
Barabas by h i s being a ^ew, committer of "unhallow'd deeds
of Jews", by h i s frequent c u r s i n g of C h r i s t i a n s , and r e j o i c -
ing i n t h e i r d i s c o m f i t u r e , and by the f r e n z i e d s o r t of hatred
that possesses him:
Barabas: so I l i v e , p e r i s h may a l l the world.
(V, v, 10)
Marlowe, i n The Jew of Malta p i l l o r i e d M a c h i a v e l l i as a
v i l l a i n and an a t h e i s t , through the most powerful propaganda
medium o f the day, the stage. I n doing so he moved a good d i s -
tance from h i s p o s i t i o n i n r e l a t i o n to the thought of M a c h i a v e l l i
i n Tamburlane, i n which he chose to stress those aspects of the
upstart prince — h i s r e s o l u t i o n and d a r i n g — w i t h which one
could remain i n sympathy. I n Doctor Paustus, he presented a
learned man s e l l i n g h i s soul to the d e v i l i n exchange f o r a
l i f e of domination over nature, which to the medieval mind was
governed by God's law. Here i n essence i s the same attack
launched i n The ^ew of Malta: the charge i s egotism and love
of Worldly m a t e r i a l i s t i c power; the demonstration i s d e s t r u c t -
iveness and s e l f - d e s t r u c t i o n ; and the pattern of the i n d i v i d u a l ' s
 -io4-

development i s again that of Tamburlane and of Barabas.

Paustus i s a man of humble o r i g i n who r i s e s t o eminence
by sheer a b i l i t y . He advances, however, not as a w a r r i o r or
a man of wealth, but as a s c h o l a r . L i k e Tamburlane and Barabas
he becomes a v i c t i m of h i s own boundless love of h i s p a r t i c u l a r
w o r l d l y object - l e a r n i n g - p a r t i c u l a r l y the black a r t - and
becomes more and more r e c k l e s s and d e s t r u c t i v e as the i n e v i t a b l e
ehd approaches.
As i n the other two plays announcement i s made of the
d e s t i n y of the c h i e f character. The audience i s t o l d a t the
outset that Faustus, a man of humble o r i g i n , went to the u n i -
v e r s i t y of Wertenberg where he studied law, medicine and
divinity. Then, master of these a r t s , and "swoln w i t h cunning,
of a s e l f - c o n c e i t " , he " s u r f e i t s upon cursed necromancy",
while the "heavens conspire h i s overthrow".
Marlowe then o u t l i n e s the i l l u s i o n s that conceit and ambi-
t i o n create:
Faustus: 0, what a world o f p r o f i t and d e l i g h t ,
Of power, of honour, of omnipotence,
Is promised to the studious a r t i s a n 1
A l l things that move between the quiet poles
S h a l l be a t my command:
( I , i , Sk - 5 8 ) 5

^kk Christopher a r l o w e , The T r a g i c a l H i s t o r y of Dr.

M
Faustus,
London, Mathuen & Co., L t d . , 1 9 3 2 .
 -io5-

But h i s dominion that exceeds i n t h i s ,

S t r e t c h e t h as f a r as doth the mind of man;
A sound magician- i s a might god:
Here Paustus, t i r e Ibhy brains to g a i n a d e i t y .
( I , i , 6 l - 614.)
This i s the temper of Tamburlane, whose aim soared beyond
e a r t h l y bounds and reached i n t o heaven. But Paustus, l i k e
Barabas, and u n l i k e Tamburlane, had a sense of e v i l - d o i n g , of
desperation:
Paustus: This n i g h t I ' l l conjure, though I die t h e r e f o r e .
( I , i , 167)

His complacency returns and h i s p r i d e grows as h i s s p e l l s

succeed and L u c i f e r appears, t o be h i s slave:
Paustus: How p l i a n t i s t h i s Mephistopholis,
P u l l of obedience and. h u m i l i t y 1
Such i s the f o r c e of magic and my s p e l l s :
(I, i i i , 21 - 33)
and, l i k e Tamburlane, he becomes dangerous and meaningless i n
h i s obsession wL t h power:
Paustus: To do whatever Paustus s h a l l command,
Be i t to make the moon drop from her sphere,
Or the ocean to overwhelm the world.
( I , i i i , 39-1+1)
With such an aim, Paustus dedicates h i m s e l f t o Beelzebub,
"the c h i e f of H e l l " , and becomes through h i s p r i d e i n wordly
l e a r n i n g , wholly devoted to power, s e l f - l o v e , appetite and
money.
 -106-

The moral of Faustus* f a t e i s stated s p e c i f i c a l l y by the

chorus:
Chorus: Faustus i s gone: regard h i s h e l l i s h f a l l ,
Whose f i e n d f u l fortune may exhort the wise,
Only to wonder at unlawful t h i n g s ,
Whose deepness doth entice such forward w i t s
To p r a c t i s e more than heavely power permits.
(Epilogue, if - 8 )
In a l l t h i s the denunciation of i r r e v e r e n t and unbridled
ambition f i n d s expression; and Marlowe thus u l t i m a t e l y i n -
t e r p r e t s M a c h i a v e l l i i n the terms voiced f i r s t by the C a t h o l i c
R form Movement and l a t e r w i t h such abandon by G e n t i l l e t .
e In
Barabas he v i l i f i e d M a c h i a v e l l i through the drama as vehemently
and i n as u n p r i n c i p l e d a fashion as had G e n t i l l e t i n h i s book,
the Contre-Machiavel. In Edward I I he seized upon E n g l i s h h i s -
t o r y and i l l u s t r a t e d the a n t i - M a c h i a v e l l i a n i n a p o l i t i c a l
play; but i n i t he turned the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n conceived by the
champions of C a t h o l i c f e u d a l i s t s against themselves.
In Edward I I Marlowe attempted t o deal w i t h p o l i t i c s and
h i s t o r y s e r i o u s l y and r e a l i s t i c a l l y . He took a theme from the
h i s t o r y of England, a segment of the r e a l i t y from which
M a c h i a v e l l i s mind was never detached, and f o r the f i r s t time
1

d i s c i p l i n e d h i s genius t o cope w i t h experience and not w i t h

fantasy. He adapted the record of Edward I I ' s r e i g n as given
i n Hol/inshed, and i n s p i t e of the considerable l i b e r t i e s he
 -107-

took w i t h time he produced a p l a y that was r e l a t i v e l y accurate

h i s t o r y and powerful drama. P o e t i c bombast tended to be re-
placed by the poetry of reason and r e a l i t y .
The theme of the play i s the danger tohereditary monarchy—
and consequently, i t i s inferred, to the common weal — inherent
i n s t r i f e between the king and the nobility. In the struggle
of the feudal nobility to retain their control of Edward I I ,
the Younger Mortimer — i n i t i a l l y one of the insurgent nobility
striving to recover the influence of the king from the "upstarts"
and "batterers" — Gaveston, the Spencers and Baldock — becomes
the victim of his own ambition, and turns the fight for the re-
storation of the feudal control of the monarch into what amounts
to the usurpation of the throne by himself. Mortimer's role as
a "Machiavellian" does not becoi® apparent until Act IV of the
play, when the atmosphere of Intrigue and double-dealing becomes
heavy whenever he appears, or the action of others i s provoked
by him. The play moves to i t s conclusion under the impetus of
the genius of evil that became traditionally associated with
"Machiavellianism" on the stage.
The sequence of events during the balance of the play
illustrates the increasingly diabolical character of Mortimer.
 108-

Escaping from the tower with the aid of Kent, brother to the
king, he takes refuge i n France, joining the queen at Paris*
There, aided by the hospitality of the Earl of Hainault, he and
the queen recruit French and German military aid for their re-
turn to England end their attempt to depose the king and replace
him by his son. By these ambitious plans, however, he alienates
the young Prince Edward and Kent* With the invasion of England,
he assumes leadership, though i n the queen's name; and Leicester
acts i n Mortimer's name when he arrests the king at Neith.
Mortimer now becomes anathema to the king. He i s "That
bloody man", and the companion of h e l l * Imprisoned under the
care of Leicester, the king complains against "the ambitious
Mortimer" and later, tormented by the incessant moving about
which Mortimer orders as a means of preventing his rescue,
the king cries -
Edward: Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?
(V, i i i , 5)
When w i l l the fury of his mind assuage?
When w i l l his heart be satisfied with blood?
(V, i i i , 8 - 9 )
Although such epithets, as well as those of "tyrant" and
 0LO9-

"traitor" had been bandied about by both sides during the scenes
of struggle between the nobles and the king, from now on they
accumulate around Mortimer, and are confirmed by his acts*
The queen too develops as a dissembler and a would-be assassin
at one with Mortimer i n his wilful ambition; and i t remains
only for them to c a l l i n the fictional character, Lightborn ;

created for the play by Marlowe to stamp Mortimer and Isabel

as consciously developed romantic Machiavellians; for Light-
born announces himself as a v i l l a i n trained i n crime i n Italy,
and cunning i n namelesssmurderous designs.
If the features of the "Machiavellian" outlined by Miss
Fellhelmer are recalled, i t will be seen that Mortimer, Isabel
and Lightborn are drawn after the pattern she records* The
opening words of Mortimer i n Act V, scene Iv, "The king must
die, or Mortimer goes down", int^Qiuces i n f u l l the "Machiavell-
ian", headstrong, ambitious, cunning, unscrupulous, egotistical,
contemptuous of others and defiant to the last, consciously a
wrong-doer*
The significance of this t r i o to the tradition of "Ma-
chavellian" v i l l a i n y l i e s i n the number of facets of this
v i l l a i n y that they reflect. Two of them are from the high-
ranking nobility, close to the monarch; they move i n their
 -llC-

development from discontent to ambition, and from ambition to

obsession with power. The orown has i n the end an Irresistible
fascination for them. Seeking i t , they demonstrate increasing
degrees of violence, cunning and cruelty. Overcome, they are
unrepentant. Lightborn, the base-born one of the trio, i s
remarkable for the vulgarity of his pride i n his art of
assassination, his insensibility and his credulity. None of
them have any aim other than that of advancing themselves to
the highest attainable peaks of greatness. For the woman this
i s to be the companion and abettor, and sometimes the guide
to a daring and cunning man; for the paid assassin i t i s s k i l l
and novelty i n the art of murder. A l l are Indifferent to
legitimate claims to what they seek, and to the damage their
actions do to the lives of others. Together they make a com-
posite "Machiavellian * •
1

The development of excessive ambition begins i n Isabella

only after she abandons hope of winning back the king's af-
fections, alienated from her by the king's infatuation with
Gaveston. Before she decides to seek foreign aid with which
to win power for her son i n England, she makes every effort
to restore herself to the favor of the king. Alone and i n the
king's presence she declares her love and loyalty to him, and
gives no encouragement to Mortimer's advances. Once she i s
 -111-

in France, however, she appears to feel that she has made an

Irrevocable break with the king. She then becomes Mortimer's
whole-hearted accomplice, and involves Prince Edward as an
unwilling and helpless tool of his ambition*
The front of legitimacy which Prince Edward s t i t l e to
1

the throne affords only enhances the dishonesty of Isabella

and Mortimer, who are concerned chiefly with their own domina-
tion and security* In the campaign against King Edward, for
example, before the Spencers and Baldock have been seized and
executed and, king transferred to Berkeley, Isabella and Mor-
timer keep up the pretense of seeking to right the wrongs
the king has committed against their country and of freeing
the court from unwise counsellors; but with the imprisonment
of the king their pretense i s dropped*
Mortimer: Fair sabel, now have we our desire;
x

The proud corrupters of the light-brain d king

1

Have done their homage to the gallows.

And he himself l i e s i n captivity*
Be rul'd by me, and we w i l l rule the realm*
(V, i i , 1 - 5 )
Isabel: so that my son be safe,
Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes,
Conclude against his father what thou wilt,
And I myself w i l l willingly subscribe*
(V, I i , 17 - 20 )
 112-

Mortimer: F i r s t would I hear news he were depos'd,

And then l e t me alone to handle him*
(V, i i , 21 - 22 )
There i s a singular brutality and coarseness a bout that
last line of ortImer's, like the snarl of a beastjgj fulljof
M

unbridled savagery. The shield i s down. Isabel should r e c o i l ;

but she does not. On the contrary, interrupted by a messenger,
she inquires with apparent sincerity about the health of the
king; but when the Bishop of Winchester appears bearing the
crown everything fades before her ambition.
Isabel: (To the messenger)
How fares my lord the king?
Messenger: In health, madam, but f u l l of pensiveness.
Isabel: Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief.
(Enter the Bishop of Winchester with the crown)
Thanks, gentle Winchester.
(To the Messenger) Sirrah, be gone.
( V, i i , 21+ - 27)
The appoarance of the crown, visible symbol of power,
explodes pretense, and the messenger of Edward i s unceremon-
iously despatched. Isabel bursts into energetic action, she
orders the young prince to be brought to her, and peremptorily
demands a severer guard for the king. Inspired by her example,
 -113

Mortimer calls for Gurney and Mat^vis to take charge of the

king, and prepare his assassination. Before they arrive Isabel
asks pointedly:
Isabel: But, Mortimer, as long as he (the king) survives,
What safety rests for us,or for my son?
Mortimer places i t to her bluntly:
Speak, shall he presently be dispatch d and die?
1

Isabel: I would he were, so i t were not by my means,

(V, i i , 1|2 - kS )

Mat^rWis and Gurney carry on their diabolical task

of trying to break down the mind and morale of the king; and
Kent f a i l s to free the king, i s himself captured and sent to
Mortimer,
Mortimer, meanwhile, i s aware that the prince also i s
his enemy:
Mortimer: ¥et he that Is the cause of Edward*s death,
Is sure to pay for i t when his son i s of age,
( V, iv, k)

That second prosaic and pedestrain line jars as much

as the cowardly thought i t carries, Mortimer now resorts to
cunning; and despatches the ambiguous Latin message to Gurney,
inviting him to assassinate the king. And so we are led to
Lightborn, called i n by Mortimer to make sure the king i s
executed, and In a manner that w i l l not reveal the cause of
 -Ilk"

death, L i g h t b o r n i s ^ r e s o l u t e " , l a u g h t s a t the suggestion

t h a t he might r e l e n t i n f a c e o f the k i n g , and boasts reassur-

i n g l y t o Mortimer:

You s h a l l not need to g i v e i n s t r u c t i o n s ;

' T i s not the f i r s t time I have k i l l e d a man,
I l e a r n e d i n Naples how to p o i s o n f l o w e r s ;
To s t r a n g l e w i t h a lawn t h r u s t through the throa<8;
To p i e r c e the windpipe w i t h a needle's p o i n t ;
Or w h i l s t one i s a s l e e p , t o take a q u i l l
And blow a l i t t l e powder i n the e a r s :
Or open h i s mouth and pour q u i c k s i l v e r down.

But y e t I have a b r a v e r way than these.

( V, i v , 29 - 37 )

L i g h t b o r n w i l l not r e v e a l h i s s e c r e t to the f a s c i n a t e d

Mortimer, He i s as good as h i s word, however, i n the execution

o f the k i n g , which he c a r r i e s through w i t h a p e r v e r s e jauntiness

and p r o f e s s i o n a l p r i d e . He i s , of course, assassinated by

Gurney and M a t r e v i s , upon orders from Mortimer, w r i t t e n i n

L a t i n , and brought by L i g h t b o r n himself.

The c h a r a c t e r o f Mortimer i s t h a t o f the romantic "Machia-

vellian" — the i n d i v i d u a l s e i z e d and d r i v e n by an insatiable

demand f o r power, r e j o i c i n g w i c k e d l y i n each tritamph, prepared

to r e s o r t t o any crime o r d e c e p t i o n , and meeting h i s end,

c y n i c a l l y f l i n g i n g a t a u n t , a boast or a c u r s e . He i s of the

k i n d , though not of the rank i n enormity, of Barabas,

The v i l l a i n thus c r e a t e d and l a b e l l e d M a c h i a v e l l i a n by

Marlowe became the p r o t o t y p e f o r v i l l a i n y on the stage of

 -115-

Ellzabethan England. He appears to be the reflection of the

fear and hatred of the excessively ambitious individual that-
haunted the minds of many i n Elizabethan England, and particu-
l a r l y of those who championed the Tudor absolutism. Defined
originally by the protagonists of medieval forms of govern-
ment i n their pamphlets and public denunciations of the new
Tudor absolutism, he figured on the stage, when p o l i t i c a l l y
defined, as the enemy of the new renaissance absolute monarchy,
as the irreconcilably ambitious noble, whose aim was selfish
and whose object was oppression. Product of the disturbed
conditions of the time, he was an extravagance and his career
was brief.
Marlowe had certainly caught the essentially revolution-
ary quality of the conflict of his time, the desperation of
the contenders and the Irrevocability of the outcome of the
contention. In the dramatic poems, Tamburlane, The Jew of
Malta, and Dr. Fanstus he depicted this essenee i n striking
symbols from the f i e l d of war, of commerce and of learning,
and In poetic and extravagantly dramatic terms had sown ambi-
tion gone wild. In Edward II i n more moderate .terms and with
some regard for historical reality, he dramatized the triumph
of monarchy over both the nobility as a class and over the
 -116-

single man of ambition: the governing principle of the pre-

eminence of the monarch was confirmed i n the triumph of
Edward II over the nobility; and the villainy of the insurgent
noble was stressed in the degeneration and downfall of
Mortimer*
Among the romantic Machiavellians of the Elizabethan
stage, Shakespeare's Richard III holds a unique place. In
the variety of ways In which he demonstrates ruthless self-
assertion, he exceeds a l l other "Machiavellians" of the
romantic school; while i n the demonstration of a soul i n the
agony of self-knowledge and despair he does not f a l l short
of Faustus i n his f i n a l hour; but Richard's agony i s rooted
i n real human dilemna and not i n the conflict of the human
soul torn between the powers of heaven and h e l l , or goaded
by some driving passion. Richard comes to his position l o g i -
cally, and i n freedom from infatuation; and i n his pitiless
self-examination reveals a human conscience and modesty that
Is absent from other "Machiavellians".
Bowing to facts, not passions, Richard masters the
art of unprincipled dissimulation and develops a nearly im-
pervious self-assurance. In his dealings with women, old
and young, i n affairs of the heart and i n affairs of state
 -117'

he Is the master psychologist and cynic* He can seduce a

young woman with shameless art, as he does ^ady Anne, break
down with equally shameless equivocation the rooted hate of
an outraged mother, as he does that of Queen Elizabeth, with
exquisite aplomb outface every court schemer, triumphantly
stage a transparently organized demonstration of public
support, which fools no one and yet achieves i t s end, with
finely tempered cynicism play so astute a politician as Buck-
ingham u n t i l open contempt compels him to revolt* But i n his
exacting appreciation of his own s k i l l , Richard reveals also
an agonized disillusion* In triumphing over humanity he i s
breaking his own heart* He penetrates too deeply into the
human soul, including his own, for his own peace of mind; he
i s too, too conscious of human f r a i l t y * After he has won
Anne, he recoils upon his own achievement:
Richard: What I I, that k i l l e d her husband and his father.
To take her i n her heart's Bxtreme hate;
With curses i n her mouth,^-tearX i n her eyes,
The bleeding witness of^her/hatred by;
Having God, her conscience, and these bars V
against me,
And I no friends to back my suit withal
But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her, — a l l the world to nothing*
Hal
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
 -118

Stabbed i n my angry mood at Tewksbury?

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman-
Framed i n the prodigality of nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt,
right fcoyal —
The spacious world cannot again afford:
And w i l l she yet abase her eyes on me,
That cropt the golden prime of this sweet
prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?
Gn me, whose a l l not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halt and am mis-shapen, thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person a l l this while:
Upon my l i f e , she finds, although I cannot.
Myself to be a marvellous proper man*
( I, i i , 230-25^)

The mockery of the Inveterate realist seizes him. He w i l l get

a mirror; obviously he has failed to appreciate himself. He
cries:
Shine out, f a i r sun, t i l l I have bought a glass.
That I may see my shadow as i t pass.
( I, i i , 262 - 263)

He triumphs as cruelly i n his own discomfiture as he does

i n the discomfiture of his victims. As a close examination
of his career w i l l show, he stands apart from other romantic
Machiavellians i n the logic of his being. Other romantic
Machiavellians exemplify excessive, irrational ambition, love
of power, greed, pride; a l l are the victims of i l l u s i o n , a l l
are sealed up i n egotism. Richard i s denied the comfort of
i l l u s i o n ; he i s the victim of too clear a vision of the facts.
 -119-

He i s a man brimful of l i f e , yet condemned by monstrous

physical deformities to isolation from a l l the delights of
love and sweet companionship, Hisshapen i n body, he i s yet
endowed with amazing physical and mental energy, • A warrior
of such outstanding a b i l i t y that his father, the Duke of York,
commends him above a l l his brothers for his prowess i n battle,
he i s also Intellectually the superior of a l l those with
whom he associates. He i s shrewd, quick-witted, sagacious,
and above a l l a lover of action, mental and physical. While
war rages he has f u l l scope for his energies; but when peace
spreads over the land he becomes a caged s p i r i t , alien and
alone.
Presented to us at f i r s t i n the second part of Henry VI
as one of Richard, Duke of York's valiant sons, he appears,
until the humiliating death of his father at the hand of
Queen Margaret and her followers, a high-spirited, shrewd
and courageous youth. In the parliament scene, when the
Duke of York has Henry VI at his merey, Richard i s urgent i n
his demand that York act to assert his advantage and claim^
the crown* When,under Queen Margaret's influence, Henry VI
is moving to rescind his oath to recognize the Duke of York
as heir to the throne, Richard i s the one that supplies the
 -120

argument that would allow h i s father to enforce h i s t i t l e to

the crown with a clear conscience. F i n a l l y , i n the decisive

b a t t l e between the Yorkists and the Lancastrians, Richard i s

the son who i s represented as the f e a r l e s s , t i r e l e s s and

generous f i g h t e r , seeking out h i s father's c h i e f foes f o r

b a t t l e , and coming again and again to the rescue of one or

another of h i s father's leading a l l i e s . In Act I, scene 1

of the t h i r d part of Henry VI, the Duke of York says of him,

"Richard hath best deserved of a l l my son!". (I, i , 17)«

Although he i s the youngest, Richard has displayed more

spectacular courage and greater i n i t i a t i v e than have h i s

elder brothers. He appears, indeed, more as the p o t e n t i a l

true Machiavellian prince than as the romantic villain.

While h i s father l i v e s , indeed, Richard does nothing

that suggests either the c r i p p l e or the criminal; and h i s

g r i e f at h i s father's death i s impressive f o r i t s depth and

s i n c e r i t y , and f o r the determination he shows, above that of

h i s brothers to take revenge upon those responsible f o r h i s

father's humiliating end.

The change i n Richard to inveterate self-seeking ambition,

or romantic Machiavellianism, sets i n with the marriage of

Edward to E l i z a b e t h Woodville, Lady Grey, and the pendency

Edward immediately displays to favor the members of her family

 •121-

before his brothers, Edward endows his wife's brother with

one of the greatest estates i n the land, and makes the most
advantageous marriages for her sons. Further, Edward so af-
fronts Warwick, one of the most eminent and powerful lords
of England, by his marriage, that sharp criticism i s evoked
from both Clarence and Richard. Underlying Richard's
turn away from loyalty to his family then, i s his brother/)
Edward's own treason to his family, and the certainty that
Edward's marriage renders irrational any hope Richard
k

might harbor of ineriting the throne, or of long enjoying

the advantages of his birth*
The remarkably human penetration and realism of
Richard's thinking, which distinguishes him from other
Machiavellians of the romantic school, now appear. Facing
the facts of Edward's marriage and his favoritism for the
Rivers family, Richard considers the alternative ways of
l i f e lying open to him. Bereft of power, he sees himself
also, by the harsh hand of nature, bereft of a l l the a t t r i -
butes that make love and the pleasures of company attainable.
He i s a cripple. R u t h l e s s l y he catalogues his deformities:
a withered arm, a hunched back, unequal legs; and he laughs
 122-

t o s c o r n dreams of, b e i n g b e l o v e d . Nature, he notes mocking-

l y , had d i s p r o p o r t i o n e d him i n every p a r t . And he comes t o

his conclusion:

Then, s i n c e t h i s e a r t h a f f o r d s no #oy t o me,

But t o command, to check, t o o'erbear such
As a r e o f b e t t e r person than myself,
I ' l l make my heaven t o dream upon the crown,
And w h i l e s I l i v e t'account t h i s world but h e l l ,
U n t i l my misshaped trunk t h a t bears t h i s head,
Be round impaled with a g l o r i o u s crown.

( I l l Henry V I , I I I , i i , 165-171)

Behind Richard's determined f i g h t f o r power, then,

l i e s d e s p a i r o f i n h e r i t i n g t h e crown, a j u s t i f i a b l e r e s e n t -

ment a g a i n s t Edward's b e t r a y a l o f h i s b r o t h e r s ' interests,

and d e s p a i r o f p e r s o n a l happiness. H i s misanthropy thus has

a k e e n l y f e l t and n a t u r a l e x p l a n a t i o n . H i s i s o l a t i o n from

a l l human attachment eats i n t o him, u n t i l the triumph o f h i s

a b i l i t i e s alone seems to him to o f f e r c o n s o l a t i o n . He be-

comes, as i t were, a s p e c t a t o r o f h i s own " p o l i c y " , appre-

c i a t i n g , i f n o t enjoying the success of h i s subtleties,

c r u e l t i e s and stratagems. H i s a r t o f d i s s i m u l a t i o n , as he -

h i m s e l f c l a i m s , i s supreme; f o r i t i s c l e a r t h a t he imposes

h i m s e l f upon others as t h o u g h t f u l , g r a c i o u s , s o f t - h e a r t e d ,

ingenuous or p i o u s , as he chooses t o r e p r e s e n t himself.

J u s t as h i s e x a c t i n g examination of h i m s e l f , which
 -123-

drove him to the conclusion'that happiness was not f o r him,

revealed i n him the presence of a n a t u r a l hope of happiness,
so the existence i n him of the p o s s i b i l i t y of goodness i s
suggested i n the confusion i n t o which he f a l l s a f t e r h i s
g r u e l l i n g argument w i t h Queen E l i z a b e t h over h i s d e s i r e to
make s u i t to her daughter. E l i z a b e t h turns every shaft of
d e c e i t , hypocrisy or equivocation that he h u r l s , exposing
his dishonesty r e l e n t l e s s l y ; so that when she f i n a l l y agrees
to t r y t o i n f l u e n c e her daughter i n h i s f a v o r , she has left
him s t r i p p e d of every pretense.
Following upon t h i s i n t e r v i e w , Richard r e c e i v e s a
succession of messengers a l l b r i n g i n g bad news. Apparently
unnerved, he Issues c o n t r a d i c t o r y orders, or f a i l s to give
necessary i n s t r u c t i o n s . Although h i s recovery i s r a p i d ,
one f e e l s that h l a s h e l l of i n d i f f e r e n c e has been penetrated
by E l i z a b e t h ' s sharp r e j o i n d e r s , f o r i t i s not c o n s i s t e n t
w i t h h i s character that merely bad news should f r i g h t e n
him. Danger but threatens y e t , and up to t h i s point danger
has never dismayed him; nor does he I n the end allow even
the t e r r o r s of h i s g h o ^ s t l y v i s i t a t i o n s to rob him of h i s
readiness f o r b a t t l e . On the c o n t r a r y , Richard argues w i t h
himself i n a very n a t u r a l though desperate manner, f o l l o w i n g
 -12k"

the v i s i t a t i o n of th© ghosts. Unlike other romantic Machiavel-

l i a n s , he voices not the outcry o f a tormented s o u l f e a r i n g
h e l l but t h a t o f the miserable and i s o l a t e d i n d i v i d u a l , con-
scious of complete f r i e n d l e s s n e s s . He c r i e s out, "Have
mercy, Jesu I ", but t h i s i s an exclamation of h a b i t ; i t i s
h i s behaviour among men t h a t bothers him.
Richard: 0 coward conscience, how dost thou a f f l i c t me I
For a moment he allows the c o l o r o f the l i g h t t o f r i g h t e n him;
i t i s b l u e , reputedly the s i g n o f the presence o f an e v i l
spirit. BulThe does not spend a moment on the supernatural.
"What do I f e a r ? " , he asks. There i s no one by; no one but
h i m s e l f ; and he loves h i m s e l f . But there i s a murderer by;
h i m s e l f ; there i s a p e r j u r e r by: h i m s e l f ; there i s a v i l l a i n
g u i l t y o f a thousand s i n s ; h i m s e l f . His r e l e n t l e s s l y r e a l -
i s t i c and r a t i o n a l mind w i l l not allow himself escape from
a s i n g l e accusation; nor w i l l i t allow himself t o deny h i s
c o n t i n u i n g s e l f - l o v e , even though he i s without p i t y f o r
h i m s e l f i n h i s deep misery.
There i s no creature loves me
Is h i s l a s t desperate conclusion.
 -125'

When Ratcliff enters his tent to waken him, he leaps

i n terror.
Zounds 1 Who i s there?
His f i r s t concern then i s to sound out the loyalty of his
supporters. Will they prove true? He doubts i t , and sets out
therefore, with Ratcliff to eavesdrop on his army, and return-
ing, wants corroboration from Ratcliff upon what they have
overheard. He allows himself to acquiesce, i n an almost simpl
minded fashion, i n the report that Richmond knows nothing of
warfare; and then lets himself f a l l into wondering i f the dull
weather i s ominous. Norfolk's c a l l to arms, however, brings
him to action at once, as though he were relieved to be re-
quired to do something. His orders are decisive and command-
ing; his self-assurance revives, and his address to his troops
is" f u l l of scorn for the enemy. One feels, however, that he
knows he i s doomed, but that he w i l l go down fighting, and
enjoying the battle.
No other Machiavellian of the romantic type gives so
natural an explanation of his behaviour. Each i s obsessed
with,the love of power; but no other i s so clearly denied by
nature and circumstance a l l alternatives to despair. Richard
 -126

sees himself i n h e l l , i n a land of briars, lost, alone,

cut off from a l l but the resources of his own being, and
doomed to suffer torment i n hacking his way to the object
that alone promises reward — the crown. He can s i t down
and weep, or he can fight. He chooses to fight; and to fight
when his own common sense t e l l s him he is irrational.
His r e c i t a l of the attributes his role requires pic-
tures the Machiavellian as Gentillet defined him, and as
Barabas demonstrated him:
Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile;
And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart;
And wet my cheeks with a r t i f i c i a l tears,
And frame my face to a l l occasions:
I ' l l drown more sailors than the mermaids shall;
I ' l l slay more gazers than the basilisk;
If11 play the orator as well as Nestor;
Deceive more s l i l y than Ulysses could£
And, like a Slnon, take another Troy:
I can add colours to the chameleon;
Change places with Proteus for advantages;
And set the murderous Machiavel to school*
Can 1 do this and cannot get a crown?
( IIP Henry VI, III, i i , 182 - 19^) 10

Although;Richard f a l l s , i n his completely unregenerate

character, into the pattern of the Machiavellian v i l l a i n set
by Marlowe, he manages to remain convincingly human, and free

10) William Shakespeare, "Henry VI, Part III", Works, 1 9 3 8 .

 -127-

from the d i a b o l i c a l gloating^Barabas or even Tamburlane,

Perhaps t h i s i s because Shakespeare dealt so deeply i n
the human heart as i t warmly beats and throbs, 'and because
he was r e i n c a r n a t i n g an h i s t o r i c a l character apparently f o r
a p r a c t i c a l reason — the d i s c r e d i t i n g of the l a s t o f the
Yorkist kings. C e r t a i n i t i s that the character of Richard
I I I c o n v i n c i n g l y suggests the k i n d of mental t u r m o i l con-
c e i v a b l y accompanying the career of a r e a l t y r a n t who, l i k e
Agathocles, O l i v e r o t t o d a Permo, or Severus, a l l r e f e r r e d
t o by M a c h i a v e l l i , commanded admiration f o r t h e i r courage
and t h e i r c r a f t , but merited infamy only f o r the s t e r i l i t y
of t h e i r object.
R i c h a r d , l i k e a l l Machiavellians of the romantic school,
f a l l s through the excess o f h i s own c r u e l t i e s and frauds.
I n the completeness o f h i s c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n , he i s the counter-
p a r t , as i n h i s q u a l i t i e s as a r u l e r he i s the antitheses o f
Henry V, Shakespeare's supreme r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of the true
M a c h i a v e l l i a n . Both are i s o l a t e d , I r e s o l u t e i n d i v i d u a l s ; but
the one i s i s o l a t e d and motivated by despair; the other by
the greatness of h i s conception of the r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s of
the i n d i v i d u a l c a l l e d t o the exercise o f power.
 •128-

Chapter V

Real Machiavellianism — Ben Jonson

I f our stage M a c h i a v e l l i a n v i l l a i n proves himself

v i l l a i n t o the true M a c h i a v e l l i a n , must i t be concluded
that the stage o f E l i z a b e t h a n England f a i l e d e n t i r e l y to

M a c h i a v e l l i intended them t o be understood? I r v i n g Ribner,

w r i t i n g upon the i n f l u e n c e of M a c h i a v e l l i on Sidney , ex-
1

presses the opinion that

"His ( M a c h i a v e l l i ' s ) ideas were a pervasive
i n f l u e n c e i n E l i z a b e t h a n thought and w i l l ,
upon i n v e s t i g a t i o n , be no doubt found r e -
f l e c t e d i n the works of many o f the other
w r i t e r s o f the age,......" 2
I t w i l l be the purpose of t h i s chapter to demonstrate that
a genuine a p p r e c i a t i o n of the p o l i t i c a l outlook expressed
by M a c h i a v e l l i d i d indeed f i n d expression i n the plays con-
temporary w i t h those of Marlowe, or f o l l o w i n g c l o s e l y a f t e r

1) I r v i n g Ribner, " M a c h i a v e l l i and Sidney: The Arcadia of 1950,"

Studies i n P h i l o l o g y , the U n i v e r s i t y of North C a r o l i n a Press, 19^9 .
2) I b i d . - p. 172
 129

them*
F i r s t of the great E l i z a b e t h a n dramatists, Marlowe^T)
i n i t i a t e d the t r a d i t i o n of d i s t o r t e d Machiavellianism; l a s t
of the great E l i z a b e t h a n dramatists, Ben Jonson dramatized
the p o l i t i c a l i n t r i g u e s o f ancient Rome w i t h an eye that
measured the p a r t i c i p a n t s w i t h an o b j e c t i v i t y almost as
detached as that of M a c h i a v e l l i , and w i t h an a p p r e c i a t i o n
f o r s k i l f u l manoeuvring on a par w i t h h i s .
I n the two f r a n k l y p o l i t i c a l plays by Jonson, Sejanus
(1603) and C a t i l i n e H i s Conspiracy ( l 6 l l ) the l i n e s f r e -
quently are paraphrases of the statements o f M a c h i a v e l l i ,
and the passions and p e r s o n a l i t i e s r e v e a l themselves con-
sistently i n p o l i t i c a l situations,
Sejanus t e l l s the s t o r y of the p o l i t i c a l a s s o c i a t i o n
and r i v a l r y of two powerful men i n the Roman s t a t e : T i b e r i u s ,
the emperor, and h i s f a v o u r i t e , Sejanus, a man of common
b i r t h , but experienced i n the a f f a i r s o f Rome and r a i s e d by
the emperor t o a p o s i t i o n of i n f l u e n c e i n the Roman s t a t e .
The c h i e f protagonist i s Sejanus, whose ambition t o succeed
T i b e r i u s i n i t i a t e s the a c t i o n of the p l a y and provokes Into
motion the p o l i t i c a l t a l e n t of the emperor whose d e c l i n e
i n t o i d l e n e s s and debauchery has not robbed him of h i s s t a t e -
 -130-

craft.
The a c t i o n of the p l a y takes place i n a p e r i o d of
p o l i t i c a l corruption. Popular discontent and d i s a p p r o v a l
of the emperor have produced adherents f o r the cause of the
house of Germanicus, next i n l i n e f o r the i m p e r i a l crown.
The p l a y , t h e r e f o r e , opens to the audience p o l i t i c a l Rome,
seething w i t h i n t r i g u e and unrest, and f e s t e r i n g w i t h
c o r r u p t i o n and debauchery.
A group of c i t i z e n s innocent of acts against the emperor,
but c r i t i c a l of him, and i n sympathy w i t h the claims of the
house of Germanicus to the succession, i s the conscience of
the p l a y ; and, appearing as p a r t of the crowd, or meeting i n
the palace or on the s t r e e t s , p o i n t s the moral.
I n Act I , scene I , one of these^Sabinus, f o r e c a s t s the
outcome of events:
Sabinus: Tyrants a r t s
1

Are to give f l a t t e r e r s grace; accusers power;

That those may seem t o k i l l whom they devour.
( I , I , 70 - 72) 3

This i s p r e c i s e l y the theme of the p l a y ; i t i s a l s o , i n

3) Ben Jonson, "Sejanus", Ben Jonson, Oxford, The Clarendon Press,

1932, V o l . 1+,.
 -131-

b r i e f M a c h i a v e l l i s advice on conspiracies ^, and on the

1

p r i n c e ' s need f o r exeeutionars to take r e s p o n s i b i l i t y f o r

acts of v i o l e n c e and r e p r e s s i o n i n the i n t e r e s t s of the
state, ^ T i b e r i u s , the apparently unwary, and c e r t a i n l y
the d i s s o l u t e p r i n c e , plays w i t h the a s p i r i n g Sejanus as a
cat p l a y s w i t h a mouse. He meets s u b t l e t y w i t h s u b l e t y ,
dissembling w i t h dissembling, c r u e l t y w i t h c r u e l t y , and
proves himself i n the end the stronger,
Jonson's character-drawing and u n f o l d i n g of p l o t are
i n the r e a l i s t i c v e i n of M a c h i a v e l l i , Sejanus, the would-
be usurper, i n f u l l career toward the i m p e r i a l t i t l e , has
been appointed the emperor's deputy a t Rome during the
absence of T i b e r i u s , He i s t a k i n g t h i s opportunity to s e l l
o f f i c e s and f a v o r s , and b r i b e the guard as a means of
b u i l d i n g aj personal f o l l o w i n g while he s e c r e t l y prepares to
b r i n g about the death of the emperor's son and h e i r , Drusus,
and to marry Drusus' w i f e .
People, advanced from o b s c u r i t y , M a c h i a v e l l i and h i s t o r y
had warned, and promoted to power by the favor of a p r i n c e ,
develop, not g r a t i t u d e , but ambition. ^ Such people must be

k) N i c c o l o M a c h i a v e l l i , The Discourses, I I I , v i , lj.3lj.-ij.35

5 ) R a l e i g h i s quoted by Strathmann, S i r Walter Raleigh,as r e f e r r -
ing t o t h i s maxim, p, lolj.; a l s o The P r i n c e , x i x , 82,
6) The Discourses, I I I , JLp.i|_—lp.5
 -132-

allowed t o imagine that t h e i r schemes are succeeding so

long as he against whom the conspiracy i s d i r e c t e d cannot
w i t h s a f e t y a c t against them. While' appearing not t o know
of the conspiracy, the threatBndd prince must i n i t i a t e
counter-measures s e c r e t l y ; and w^ en the time i s r i p e , a c t
w i t h d i s p a t c h against i t , 7
T h i s , T i b e r i u s does, feeding
Sejanus w i t h hopes and continued favors u n t i l the moment
of h i s exposure and execution,
Jonson, an i n t e l l e c t u a l e g o t i s t , as an a r t i s t s e l f -
c o n s c i o u s l y dramatizes h i s l e a r n i n g and h i s i d e a s . He
p o i n t e d l y introduces T i b e r i u s t o the audience as a dissembler;
T i b e r i u s f i r s t appears on the stage o s t e n t a t i o u s l y r e f u s i n g
to be t r e a t e d as a god and p r o t e s t i n g that he i s the servant
of the senate. That h i s d u p l i c i t y may be f u l l y appreciated
by the audience, Jonson has his, bystanders, Cordus and
A r r u n t i u s remark:
Cordus: Rarely dissembled!
Arruntius: P r i n c e - l i k e t o the l i f e ,
( I , 395 )
I t i s thus made i n d i s p u t a b l y c l e a r t h a t i n T i b e r i u s one
has the " p o l i t i c k e p r i n c e " , cautious, cunning and f u l l y aware
of the dangers of h i s p o s i t i o n ; and the b a t t l e of w i t s proceeds

7) The Discourses, I I I ,
 -133

between Sejanus and the emperor with the audience keyed to

appreciate the duel of wits#
In the scene between Tiberius and Sejanus (Act II, Sc. I I )
in which Tiberius s k i l f u l l y uses Sejanus' own ambition to
prompt him to recommend the extermination of the Germanici,
the house next i n line after Tiberius' son for the imperial
t i t l e , the arguments for ruthless action put so bluntly i n
Chapter XVIII of The Prince, are reviewed:
Tiberius: When the master prince
Of a l l the world, Sejanus, saith he fears,
Is i t not fatal?
Sejanus: Yes, to those are feared*
Tiberius: And not to him?
Sejanus: Not, i f he wisely turn
That part of fate he holdeth, f i r s t on them*
Tiberius: That, nature, blood, and laws of kind forbid.
Sejanus: Do policy and state forbid i t ?
Tiberius; No*
Sejanus: The rest of poor respects, then l e t go by;
State i s enough to make the act just, them guilty.
Tiberius: Long hate pursues such acts*
Sejanus: Whom hatred frights.
Let him not dream on sovereiganty*
Tiberius: Are rites
Of faith, love, piety, to be trod down,
Forgotten, and made vain?
Sejanus: A l l for a crown*
( I I , 178 - 185)
 -134-

This i s sound M a c h i a v e l l i a n sentiment up t o a p o i n t ;

but the l i n e s immediately f o l l o w i n g show that Jonson, l i k e
so many others, has overlooked the q u a l i f y i n g r e s t r a i n t s t h a t
M a c h i a v e l l i urges upon the prince that would w i n s e c u r i t y and
l a s t i n g fame i n s t e a d of the name of t y r a n t . Jonson shows
that he i s d i s c u s s i n g tyranny and not p r i n c e l y r u l e o f a bene-
f i c e n t type when he has Sejanus continue:
The p r i n c e who shames a t y r a n t s name to bear
1

S h a l l never dare do any t h i n g , but f e a r ;

A l l the command o f sceptres q u i t e doth p e r i s h ,
I f i t hegins r e l i g i o u s thoughts t o c h e r i s h :
Whole empires f a l l , swayM by those nice respects;
I t i s the l i c e n s e o f dark deeds p r o t e c t s
Ev»n s t a t e s most hated, when no laws r e s i s t
The sword, but that i t a c t e t h what i t l i s t .
(II, 178 * 185)

Tyranny, M a c h i a v e l l i understood as the s a c r i f i c e o f

p u b l i c welfare and state s e c u r i t y t o personal i n t e r e s t ; T i b e r i u s
and Sejanus are obviously speaking as t y r a n t s who are i n d i f f -
erent t o the hatred of the people and r e s t , or propose t o rest
t h e i r power e n t i r e l y on force and without regard t o law. As
has been shown, M a c h i a v e l l i regarded tyranny as the e v i l side
of p r i n c e l y r u l e , as p r i n c e l y r u l e i n a s t a t e of decadence and

8) The P r i n c e , XVII, 7 i f .
 -135-

doomed t o s u f f e r d i s a s t e r through the l o s s of the support of

the people*
The conversation of T i b e r i u s and Sejanus continues,
cold-blooded, s e l f - i n t e r e s t e d and c a l c u l a t i n g on both s i d e s ,
T i b e r i u s l e a d i n g Sejanus on by a pretended mildness to demand
ever more s t r i n g e n t measures against the Germanici* He causes
Sejanus a t l e n g t h t o expose h i s own ambition t o do away w i t h
possible r i v a l s *
Using the arguments approved by M a c h i a v e l l i Sejanus
p o i n t s out that to compass the downfall o f the r i v a l Germanici,
T i b e r i u s must advance them, make them b e l i e v e that they are
more favored and secure than ever* Then, having won over one
or two o f t h e i r supporters t o a c t as witnesses against them,
he should expose them and execute them* T i b e r i u s pretends t o
be h e s i t a n t and asks i f people cannot be won by h e n e f i t s * Sejanus,
as would M a c h i a v e l l i , remarks that the wolf cannot be won away
from h i s nature and that b e n e f i t s do not make people l o y a l *
Pursuing the p o l i c y , advocated by Sejanus h i m s e l f , o f
g i v i n g h i s secret enemy enough rope t o hang h i m s e l f , T i b e r i u s
accepts the proposal that he go on a journey from Rome* Be-
f o r e l e a v i n g , however, he c a r e f u l l y takes stock of h i s p o s i t i o n ,
and appoints Macro, a n o t o r i o u s l y unscrupulous schemer and
 -136-

c r i m i n a l to remain i n Rome as h i s spy, to watch the move-

ments of Sejanus, T i b e r i u s ' r e f l e c t i o n s here are f r e q u e n t l y
those expressed i n M a c h i a v e l l i .
Thus M a c h i a v e l l i notes;
"A p r i n c e , therefore should never
bestow so much a u t h o r i t y upon h i s
f r i e n d s but that there should always
be a c e r t a i n distance between them
and h i m s e l f , and that there should
always be something l e f t f o r them t o
d e s i r e ; otherwise they w i l l almost
i n v a r i a b l y become v i c t i m s of t h e i r •
own imprudence,...." 9
Compare t h i s statement w i t h T i b e r i u s ' r e f l e c t i o n :
Tiberius: *Tis then a part of supreme s k i l l t o grace
-No man too much; but h o l d a c e r t a i n space
Between the ascender's r i s e , and thine own f l a t ,
Lest when a l l round be reach'd, h i s aim be t h a t .
( III, 6^3 -646)
M a c h i a v e l l i says:
"These ( c o n s p i r a c i e s ) I say, have g e n e r a l l y
f o r t h e i r o r i g i n a t o r s the great men of the
s t a t e , or those on terms of f a m i l i a r i n t e r -
course w i t h the p r i n c e . None other, unless
they are madmen, can engage I n c o n s p i r a c i e s ;
f o r men of low c o n d i t i o n , who are not i n t i -
mate w i t h the prince have no chance of
success, not having the necessary convenience
for the execution of t h e i r p l o t s " . 10
Comments T i b e r i u s :
Tiberius: Those are the dreadful enemies we r a i s e
With favours, and make dangerous w i t h p r a i s e ;

9) The Discourses, I I I , v i ,
10) The Discourses, I I I , v i , 413-441*
 -137-

The i n j u r e d by us may have w i l l a l i k e ,

But ' t i s the f a v o u r i t e hath the power to s t r i k e ;
(III, 637 - 6I4.O)
The P a r a l l e l here i s so c l o s e as to make one suspect
Jonson had r e c e n t l y read M a c h i a v e l l i .
The duel of w i t and i n t r i g u e between T i b e r i u s and Sejanus
moves to. i t s climax i n a w e l t e r of t r i c k e r y and double-dealing.
Sejanus, through h i s agent, L a t i a r i s , t r i c k s Sabinus, a
supporter of the Germanic!, i n t o a treasonable utterance
against T i b e r i u s , and has him a r r e s t e d . He f u r t h e r i n c i t e s
the ambition of Agrippina's sons, Nero and Drusus, s t i r r i n g
them to mutual s u s p i c i o n , and to impatience w i t h the emperor.
C a l i g u l a , the t h i r d son of Agrippina alone escapes capture by
Sejanus' agents by throwing himself on the mercy of the emperor.
Meanwhile the emperor, Tiberius> has been demonstrating
11

h i s s k i l l i n confusing the minds of men. He issues contra-

d i c t o r y orders, promotes both f r i e n d s and enemies of Sejanus,
i s s u e s and cancels i n s t r u c t i o n s i n r a p i d succession, and
creates amongst the people g e n e r a l l y and those who serve him
the greatest consternation and u n c e r t a i n t y . Sejanus, however,
appears to continue a triumphal advance. Lepidus sees i n

11) The P r i n c e , x v i i i , 71+.

 -138-

the confusion " T i b e r i u s ' a r t " .

Lepidus: For having found h i s f a v o u r i t e grown too great,
And w i t h h i s greatness strong; that a l l the
soldiers
Are, w i t h t h e i r l e a d e r s , made a l l h i s devotion;
That almost a l l the senate are h i s creatures,
Or hold on him t h e i r main dependencies,
E i t h e r f o r b e n e f i t , or hope, or f e a r ;
And that himself hath l o s t much of h i s own,
By p a r t i n g unto him; and, by t h ' increase
Of h i s rank l u s t s and rages, q u i t e disarmed
Himself of l o v e , or other p u b l i c means,
To dare*an open c o n t e s t a t i o n ;
His s u b t l e t y hath chose t h i s doubling l i n e ,
To h o l d him even i n : not so to f e a r him,
As wholly put him out, and yet give check
Unto h i s f u r t h e r boldness. I n mean time,
By h i s employments, make hira, odious
Unto the staggering r o u t , whose, a i d , i n f i n e ,
He hopes to use, as sure, who, when they sway
Bear down, o'ertunn a l l objects i n t h e i r way.
(IV, ~ 472)
I n t h i s a n a l y s i s of T i b e r i u s ' motives, Lepidus* reasoning
c l o s e l y p a r a l l e l s that of M a c h i a v e l l i . T i b e r i u s , Lepidus f e e l s ,
has discovered that "The Author of an others greatnes i s h i s
n 12
owne deeaye"; f u r t h e r , that the l i c e n t i o u s l i f e of T i b e r i u s
has l o s t him the support of the people, ^ 3
and rendered him
weak i n the face of the threat of Sejanus. Machiavelli, i n -
deed, had warned that
" . . . . i t behooves a p r i n c e to use-that
d i s c r e t i o n whereby he may avoyde the
i n famie e s p e c i a l l l e of such v i c e s as
may weken h i s power, or hazarde the
l o s s e of h i s p r i n c i p a l i t i e . . . . " l l j .

1&) The P r i n c e , I I I , llj-15

13) Ibid, xix,' 78 - 79.
14) XhTd*. xv, 67.
 -139-

As T i b e r i u s had f a i l e d t o act w i t h t h i s d i s c r e t i o n ,
and had l o s t the hearts of the common people, he had j u s t
cause t o f e a r c o n s p i r a c i e s and was f o r c e d t o r e s o r t t o
delay, s u b t l e t i e s and manoeuvring t o ready himself t o break
the a s s a u l t o f Sejanus,• He a l s o undertook, according t o
Lepidus, t o b r i n g hatred upon Sejanus by g i v i n g him unpop-
u l a r tasks t o f u l f i l , honoring the p r i n c i p l e that
"...princes should d i s p a t c h those things by ,
t h e i r deputyes which w i l l move envie..." l b

..The success of the a r t of T i b e r i u s appears i n Sejanus'

ool^loquy w i t h which Act V begins. Sejanus i s q u i t e over-
powered w i t h e l a t i o n :
at each step, I f e e l my advanced head
Knock out a s t a r i n heaven.
' ( V, 8 - 9 )
Sejanus i s now impatient f o r more obstacles to overcome,
so t h a t h i s c a p a c i t i e s may be w o r t h i l y t r i e d and proven, f o r
even the attainment of the i m p e r i a l crown now seems h a r d l y
enough. Touched now w i t h extravagance, he i s the f a m i l i a r
vaunting h e r o - v i l l a i n of the p l a y s of Marlowe; and the audience
i s prepared f o r h i s d e s t r u c t i o n . He i s , one should note,

15) The P r i n c e , x i x , 8 0 .
16) I b i d , xix," 82
 -340-

built upon but one of the types of men seeking power, and
not the one that Machiavelli held up as the model prince.
The unrolling of the plot exposes Sejanus as an atheist,
who scoffs at auguries and questions the power of a l l the
gods save Fortune; and when Fortune averts her face, scorns
even her. He prepares to advance to his object by his own
powers alone* His credulity, however, i s as great as his
conceit* When, for example, he learns that a special senate<
has been called without his knowledge, fear stabs him to the
heart; but he recovers self-assurance instantly upon being
informed by his enemy, Macro, that the emperor's purpose Is
to raise him to s t i l l higher office*
The depth of the corruption of the state i n Which Sejanus
and Tiberius flourish, Is exposed by Macro's midnight missions
throughout Rome on the eve of the special senate meeting* Now
i t i s shown that the o f f i c i a l s , soldiers and common lackeys
that could be bought by Sejanus are equally open to the
appeal of Macro's bribery and the terror of imperial reprisal.
Scenes i i , i i i , v, v i , v i i , and v l i i of Act V usher before
the audience a milling, swift-moving throng of servants and
messengers, consuls and other agents of the government, mostly
under the direction of Macro, bearing letters or whispered
 -i4i-

messages about to supporters of both sides i n the contest f o r

power. They appear as the very embodiment of Jonson s i n - 1

c r e d i b l e a b i l i t y to c o n t r i v e the most complex network of

rivalries. T h e i r work leaves the stage set f o r the climax
of SeJanus' career, as duped, trapped and deprived of a l l
support he stands h e l p l e s s and exposed before the senate.
The l e t t e r which the praetor reads out t o the senate i n
the l a s t act of the p l a y would do honour t o M a c h i a v e l l i him-
self. Reeking of f a l s e modesty, f l a t t e r y and i n s i n c e r e con-
cern f o r the people, the l e t t e r s u c c e s s f u l l y guides the
corrupt senators i n t o assuming r e s p o n s i b i l i t y f o r the des-
t r u c t i o n of Sejanus. S k i l f u l l y i t e n l i s t s the senators'
sympathy and p i t y f o r the absent emperor, and promotes
i n them s a t i s f a c t i o n w i t h themselves as guardians of the
state. T i b e r i u s ' professed l e n i e n c y towards those who
slander him r e l i e v e s from f e a r each one who has thought
c r i t i c a l l y of him],: w h i l e h i s promise of s e v e r i t y towards
serious offenders u n i t e s a l l who are innocent of conspiracy
i n h i s support. Having thus prepared the senators, the
l e t t e r r a i s e s the name of Sejanus, reminds the senators o f
the honor and power t o which he has been advanced, apologises
f o r the p o s s i b i l i t y that the emperor has been too generous.
 -U|2-

and expresses the hope that Sejanus may have proved deserving*
I t then admits that the emperor has p o s s i b l y endangered him-
s e l f and even offended some by so p r e f e r r i n g Sejanus. I t
then expresses the emperor's r e g r e t that Sejanus has been so
r u t h l e s s toward the house of Germanicus, n o t i n g t h a t t h i s
c r u e l t y makes i t impossible f o r the emperor now t o exercise
clemency, except by appearing weary of v i o l e n c e . The l e t t e r
then suggests that some people might think Sejanus was seek-
ing h i s own ends i n v

"...the strengths he hath made t o h i m s e l f ,

by the p r a e t o r i a n s o l d i e r s , by h i s f a c t i o n
i n court and senate, by the o f f i c e s he holds
h i m s e l f , and confers on others, h i s popular-
i t y and dependents, h i s urging and almost
d r i v i n g us to t h i s our u n w i l l i n g retirement,
and l a s t l y , h i s a s p i r i n g to be our son-in-
law".
( V, 590 - 595 )

Thus smoothly but i n d i s p u t a b l y are the damning charges

l a i d , and the i l l u s i o n of f u r t h e r promotion torn from Sejanus'
eyes.
The l e t t e r then declares i t leaves the matter t o the
judgment of the senators, but remarks that t o the emperor i t
appears "most m a l i c i o u s " .

( v 6oo )

T i b e r i u s then, through the l e t t e r , e l e c t r i f i e s the senate

w i t h the news of Sejanus' audacious demand f o r marriage w i t h
 -H+3-

L i v i a , and announces that he has witnesses to prove h i s

charge. The l e t t e r ends on a note of weariness and doubt and
disappointment, d e c l a r i n g t h a t , while the emperor i s not
anxious t o change h i s favor,he must be guided by the i n t e r e s t
of the s t a t e , and the knowledge that p r i n c e s must beware f o r
t h e i r s a f e t y , not so much of humble people but of the g r e a t .
The l e t t e r then demands the removal of Sejanus from a l l
o f f i c e s , and the suspension of h i s powers u n t i l a t r i a l i s
held. I t emphasizes, however, that the emperor does not wish
to l i m i t the a u t h o r i t y of the senate should they t h i n k that
the property of Sejanus should be c o n f i s c a t e d , and then i t
hardens the hearts of the senators against Sejanus by ex-
p l a i n i n g t h a t the emperor dare not be present w i t h them a t
the t r i a l both because he does not wish to sway t h e i r minds,
and because, i f a powerful f a c t i o n does, i n f a c t , e x i s t , he
would be g r e a t l y endangered by Coming from h i s r e t i r e m e n t .
The l e t t e r concludes by urging the senators not to h u r t the
innocent by sparing the g u i l t y , and remarks, "how g r a t e f u l a
s a c r i f i c e to the gods i s the l i f e of an i n g r a t e f u l person",

( V, 61+3 - 61+4 )
This l e t t e r r e s t s upon a l l the basic assumptions about
men voiced by M a c h i a v e l l i , I t assumes men t o be i n c o n s t a n t ,
 -11*4-

dishonest, self-seeking, fearful and easily flattered and

eager for revenge. It invokes the principle of enlisting
others to execute the harsh measures one proposes, and plays
upon their envy. It demonstrates how s k i l f u l l y Tiberius has
acted upon the principle of decoying an enemy before spring-
ing the trap on him. It appears indeed that Tiberius knows
well that
" . . . s t i l l he had beste successe i n his affayres
that had best s k i l l to playe the foxe, and by
fayninge and dissemblinge to sett a fayre
varnishe on his fowls vice, for men generallie
are soe simple, and soe much geeven to their
present affairs, that a deceaver that can
cunninglie counterfeite his purpose*: shall
never wante subjectes on whom he may practise
his s k i l l " . 17
He further i s aware that
"A prince shouldge observe with a l l dilligence
and care that noe woorde sholde passe his mouthe
that did not savour of one of these five quailIties
before mencioned, and wheresoever he were seene or
hearde, he should seerae with greate reverence
to extoll and Imbrase P i t t i e , Payth Honestie
Courtesie & Religion...." 18
The l e t t e r i s Machiavellianism: a technique of persuasion
that by flattery, Insinuation, open promises and veiled threats

17) The Prince, x v i i i , 76

18) Ibid, x v i f i , 77
 -145-

compels acquiescence i n an event or a proposal, Jonson's

mind l i k e that of M a c h i a v e l l i saw things o b j e c t i v e l y and
c o o l l y ; i t estimated men by t h e i r acts and t h e i r acts by
their circumstances.
The m a t e r i a l i s t approach to events i s i l l u s t r a t e d i n
the f a t e of the various characters of the p l a y . The
Germanici f a i l because they seek to honor an i d e a l of r e s -
pect f o r t h e . r u l i n g p r i n c e ; T i b e r i u s * success stems from h i s
c o r r e c t e s t i m a t i o n of the needs f o r r e t a i n i n g s t a t e power
i n a corrupt s o e i e t y , and h i s a b i l i t y to manipulate peoplei
Sejanus e r r s when he f a i l s to perceive that circumstances
and p o l i t i c a l convenience, not a b i l i t y on h i s p a r t , are
b a s i c a l l y r e s p o n s i b l e f o r h i s triumphs. When he becomes a
v i c t i m of s e l f - l o v e and of a b e l i e f i n f a t e , he i s doomed,
T i b e r i u s never l o s e s h i s o b j e c t i v i t y , even when he cannot
be c e r t a i n that Sejanus i s not aiming at h i s l i f e ,
C a t i l i n e His Conspiracy ^-9 (l6ll) dramatizes the con-
f l i c t t h a t arose when a r e p u b l i c was f a l l i n g i n t o d e c l i n e .
I t s two c h i e f characters are C a t i l i n e and C i c e r o , the
leader on the one hand of the Insurgent, dispossessed nobil-

19) Ben Jonson, " C a t i l i n e His Conspiracy", Ben Jonson,

Oxford Clarendon Press, 1932, V o l . V,
 -llj.6-

i t y , adventurers and malcontents o f various s t a t u s , and,

on the other hand the champion o f r e p u b l i c a n p r i n c i p l e s o f
government.
C a t i l i n e himself seems t o be a composite f i g u r e , p a r t
Senecan revenger, and^part the man of excessive ambition
and unlicensed p a s s i o n so o f t e n appearing as the romantic
Machiavellian, The object o f h i s u p r i s i n g i s purely destruc-
t i v e ; i t i s the burning and the sack o f Rome f o r the p r i v a t e
enrichment of C a t i l i n e and those who adhere t o him; i t i s
l o o t and personal revenge f o r l o s s o f property, p r e s t i g e
and p u b l i c power. When, i n s p i t e of t h e backing of Caesar,
Crassus, C a t u l l u s and the n o b i l i t y i n general, C a t i l i n e i s
defeated i n the contest f o r the c o n s u l s h i p , the s p i r i t of
f u r y and d e s t r u c t i o n , breathed i n t o him i n the opening of
the p l a y by the ghost o f S y l l a , takes command o f him, and
he f i n d s himself incapable of accepting the popular v o t e ,
Irrexpressible ambition to conquer and take revenge consumes
him. He w i l l burn a l l , reduee h i s c i t y , Rome, t o ashes, k i l l
without cease before he w i l l bend h i s w i l l t o the common^
sort.
Speaking of C a t i l i n e , whose p l o t i s reported t o him by
 -147-

F u l v i a , Cicero says;
Cicero: Ambition, l i k e a t o r r e n t , ne'er looks back;
And i s a s w e l l i n g and a l a s t a f f e c t i o n
A h i g h mind can put o f f ; being both a r e b e l
Unto the s o u l and reason, and enforceth
A l l laws, a l l conscience, treads upon
religion,
And o f f e r e t h v i o l e n c e t o nature's s e l f .
But here i s that transcends i t I A b l a c k
purpose
To confound nature; and to r u i n t h a t ,
Which never age nor mankind can r e p a i r 1 —
( III, 247 - 255 )

C a t i l i n e i s c e r t a i n l y introduced by Jonson as the man

seized by that•demoniac s p i r i t w i t h which the E l i z a b e t h a n
dramatists endowed so many o f t h e i r prototypes of ambition;
but he i s compelled by Jonson's adherence t o history^) and
sound p o l i t i c a l reasoning t o f u n c t i o n r e a l i s t i c a l l y , and
h i s u l t i m a t e downfall I s understandable i n terms of the
p o l i t i c a l e r r o r s he made, and the l o g i c a l , consequences o f
the events he sets i n motion,
C i c e r o , C a t i l i n e ' s antagonist, i s a man of common
o r i g i n * i n whom the people of Rome place t h e i r t r u s t by
e l e c t i n g him c o n s u l . This popular approval i s voiced i n the
p l a y i n the words of a chorus, and i n the support given to
Cicero's candidature by a t o , "the voice o f Rome", who sees
c

i n Cicero the man the hour demands,

Cato: Our need made thee c o n s u l , and thy v i r t u e ,
( I I I , 57 )
 -348-

Thls i s M a c h i a v e l l i ^ argument o f the time and the man

meeting t o r e s o l v e chaos; the idea that opportunity must
e x i s t f o r t a l e n t t o r e a l i s e i t s e l f i n the promotion o f the
welfare o f the i n d i v i d u a l and the advancement of the country*
That the term v i r t u e i s used i n the sense i n which Machia-
v e l l i employed i t i s f u r t h e r shown i n another passage.
Sempronia: ...the p a t r i c i a n s should do very i l l
To l e t the consulship be d e f i l e d
As»t would be, i f he (Cicero) obtained i t !
a mere u p s t a r t
That has no pedigree, no house, no coat,
No ensign of a f a m i l y I
Pulvia: He has v i r t u e .
Sempronia: Hang v i r t u e I
Where there i s no blood,
'tins v i c e ,
And i n him sauciness...
Pulvia: (Twas v i r t u e only, a t f i r s t , made a l l
men noble.
Sempronia: I y i e l d you... .... ....
.but now we have no need
To d i g , or l o s e our sweat f o r I t . We have
wealth-
Portune, and ease: and then t h e i r stock t o
spend on,
•Gainst a l l new comers, and can never f a i l
us ,
While the succession s t a y s .
( II, 117 - 135 )

Obviously v i r t u e here i s t h a t i n i t i a t i v e , energy, aggress-

iveness and resourcefulness that accumulate^ wealth and power owd }

U>e-re
that t o M a c h i a v e l l i wa>e the marks of the great.
 -149-

Immediately upon h i s e l e c t i o n Cicero places before the

people h i s understanding of the s i t u a t i o n i n Rome. He tells
them that he b e l i e v e s the proud and envious nobles have allowed
h i s e l e c t i o n >to take place because of the vexing and perplex-
i n g problems that face Rome,;and he c a l l s upon the people t o
be v i g i l a n t against —
some turbulent p r a c t i c e s
Already on f o o t , and rumours of more dangers»
( III, 51 - 52)
He then sets about to demonstrate h i s own resourcefulness
and capacity f o r a c t i o n as the competent r u l e r . He e n l i s t s
supporters from the ranks of the conspirators to act as spies
for|him. He moves slowly and w i t h c a u t i o n , m o b i l i z i n g h i s
own f o r c e s before he p u b l i c l y exposes a t i l l n e at a senate
G

meeting, where he f o r c e s him i n t o voluntary e x i l e . He d i v i d e s

the ranks of the c o n s p i r a t o r s , by showing clemency t o the
l e s s e r offenders, and by j u d i c i o u s l y f a i l i n g to force the
secret backers of C a t i l i n e amongst the nobles i n t o the open,
thus a f f o r d i n g them opportunity,, as the p l o t i s p r o g r e s s i v e l y
exposed, to s a f e l y withdraw themselves from a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h
it. S k i l f u l l y he r e t a i n s h i s popular support, and i n the
end sends the heads of the conspiracy to death with the
approval of the senate and the consent of the other consul
 -150-

who at no time i s an adherent of C i c e r o , and who i n the

presence of a l e s s accomplished, or " p o l i t i c " man, might have
become the agent of the c o n s p i r a t o r s . Not once does he surrender
o b j e c t i v i t y to sentiment.
C i c e r o , f u r t h e r , i s aided i n h i s manoeuvring by d i f f -
erences among the c o n s p i r a t o r s . Cethegus, the m i l i t a r y man,
i s f o r headlong a c t i o n ; C a t i l i n e , Lentulus and others favor
more considered development of the p l o t .
Cicero's " p o l i t i c " approach i s i l l u s t r a t e d i n the manner
i n which he handles the consul, Antonius, h i s colleague.
Although Antonius i s not p a r t of the conspiracy, Cicero knows
that he i s not h o s t i l e to i t . He, t h e r e f o r e , c a l l s him i n ,
a f t e r Curius, one of the c o n s p i r a t o r s , has reported d e t a i l s
of C a t i l i n e ' s plans. With the object of f o r e s t a l l i n g the
p o s s i b i l i t y of Antonius becoming p a r t of the p l o t , Cicero
decides to show him s p e c i a l favor and bestow b e n e f i t s upon
him.
Cicero: He (Antonius) i s a man 'gainst whom I must
profide
That, as h e ' l l do no good h e ' l l do no harm.
He, though he be not of the p l o t , w i l l l i k e i t ,
And wish i t should proceed; f o r , unto men
Prest w i t h t h e i r wants, a l l change i s ever welcome,
I must w i t h o f f i c e s and patience win him,
Make him by a r t that which he i s not born,
 -151-

A f r i e n d unto the p u b l i c , and bestow

The province on him, which i s by the senate
Decreed to me; that b e n e f i t w i l l bind him:
UTis W e l l , i f some men w i l l do w e l l f o r p r i c e ;
So few are v i r t u o u s when the reward's away.
( III, 469 - i|£0 )

The reasoning of Cicero here f o l l o w s that of Machia-

v e l l i , both i n i t s general tone, and i n the s p e c i f i c argu-
ments i t ^ pursues, as, f o r example, that men welcome change
as a p o s s i b l e means of improving t h e i r fortunes, and that
they may he bought by f a v o r s .
Enough has been s a i d of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s philosophy and
of h i s a n a l y s i s of p o l i t i c s and the problems and dangers of
c o n s p i r a c i e s to enable a reader t o appreciate the s i m i l a r i t y
of the thought i n the f o l l o w i n g passage:
Caesar: (To C a t i l i n e )
Be r e s o l u t e ,
And put your e n t e r p r i s e i n a c t . The more
Actions of depth and danger are consider'd,
The l e s s assuredly they are perform'd;
And thence I t happeneth, that the bravest p l o t s ,
Not executed s t r a i g h t , have been discover'd.
Say, you are constant, another, a t h i r d ,
Or more; there may be yet one wretched s p i r i t
With whom the f e a r of punishment s h a l l work
•Bove a l l the thoughts of honour and revenge.
You are not now to think what's best to do,
As i n the beginnings, but what must be done,
Being thus enter'd: and s l i p no advantage
That may secure you. Let them c a l l I t m i s c h i e f ;
When i t i s past, and prosper'd, ' t w i l l be v i r t u e .
They're petty crimes are punish'd, great rewarded.
Nor must you t h i n k of p e r i l y since attempts
Begun i n danger, s t i l l do end w i t h g l o r y ;
 -152-

And, when need spurs, despair w i l l be c a l l ' d wisdom.

Less ought the oare of men, or fame to f r i g h t you;
For they that win, do seldom r e c e i v e shame
Of v i c t o r y , howe'er i t be achieved;
And vengeance, l e a s t : f o r who, besieged w i t h wants,
Would stop at death, or anything beyond i t ?
Come, there was never any great t h i n g yet
A s p i r e d , but by v i o l e n c e or f r a u d :
And he t h a t s t i c k s f o r f o l l y of a conscience
To reach i t —
(III, 491 - 518 )
C a t i l i n e , however he may have r e c e i v e d Caesar's a d v i c e ,
does not act on I t ; f o r the dangers,of which M a c h i a v e l l i
warned, do not escape the p l o t t e r s . The c o n s p i r a t o r s f i g h t
among themselves over the time to a c t , the method they should
pursue, and over who should k i l l C i c e r o . They are informed
upon by turncoats (Curius, Crassus, Caesar); they i n c l u d e too
many i n t h e i r confidence, and are betrayed by those not sworn
to the p l o t (the A l l o b g r o g e s ) ; t h e i r plans are revealed through
the confidences of l o v e r s (Curius and F u l v i a ) ; t h e i r a c t i o n i s
delayed by endless conferences; they expose themselves by
committing t h e i r scheme to paper (the l e t t e r to the Allobroges
and the l e t t e r from Lentulus t o Crassus) and t h e i r sympathisers
i n high places are won away from them by b r i b e r y (the c o n s u l ,
Antonius). Their f i n a l f o l l y , according to M a c h i a v e l l i , i s
t h a t t h e i r a c t i o n i s d i r e c t e d against a man and a government
t h a t has the f u l l support of the people*
 -153-

When the complete p i c t u r e of the conspiracy has been

gathered i n t o h i s hands, Cicero a c t s . He takes measures f o r
his own personal s e c u r i t y as w e l l as f o r that o f the r e p u b l i c .
He c a l l s i n h i s kinsmen as guards t o h i s house, and closes the
house t o a l l v i s i t o r s ; by doing so, he outwits the c o n s p i r a t o r s
who send Vargunteius and C o r n e l i u s , w i t h others, t o h i s home
w i t h the purpose, under pretext of a v i s i t on business, o f
a s s a s s i n a t i n g him. Keeping himself securely under guard,
Cicero goes about t o arrange a senate meeting, where he
presents the evidence he has against flatiline and h i s asso-
c i a t e s , and proposes banishment as t h e i r sentence. Supported
by a l l , he forces C a t i l i n e i n t o voluntary e x i l e , while the
alarmed and g r a t e f u l people vote Cicero sole consul o f Rome
f o r the p e r i o d of danger t h a t faces them.
The b a t t l e i s hot yet over, however. The r e p u b l i c i s
not yet secure. C a t i l i n e , as r e s o l u t e as ever, leaves Rome
to m o b i l i z e ah army while h i s f o l l o w e r s w i t h i n Rome continue
t h e i r work of propaganda and subversion. The blow that Cicero
has d e a l t the c o n s p i r a t o r s , however, proves c r i p p l i n g . Enthusiasm
f l a g s , mistakes i n c r e a s e , defections grow.
The p l a y concludes w i t h Cicero's able o r g a n i z a t i o n of the
s e i z u r e of the conspirators l e f t i n Rome, and the despatch of
 -154-

two armies against C a t i l i n e ' s f o r c e s .

I n both of these plays'Jonson pursues an i n t e r e s t and
a l i n e of a c t i o n that c l o s e l y p a r a l l e l s those that pre-oceu-
p i e d M a c h i a v e l l i . He i s i n each play concerned w i t h p o l i t i c s
i n a corrupt s t a t e y a t o p i c w i t h which M a c h i a v e l l i ' d e a l t as
a s p e c i f i c aspect of power. In,Sejanus, Jonson exposes the
e f f o r t of a commoner r a i s e d to prominence by the favor of
the p r i n c e to s e i z e the Imperial crown from h i s patron; and
i n C a t i l i n e His Conspiracy, h i s t o p i c i s the desperate
attempt of a noble to overturn! the state f o r the personal
g a i n and freedom from r e s t r a i n t of h i m s e l f and a crowd of
d i s s o l u t e r e t a i n e r s and hangers-on. His c h i e f c h a r a c t e r s ,
S e j a n u s a n d T i b e r i u s , and C a t i l i n e and Cicero are drawn w i t h
a p o l i t i c a l emphasis and understanding reminiscent of the
approach of M a c h i a v e l l i , many passages of the p l a y are so
close I n thought and form to passages i n M a c h i a v e l l i as to
suggest a recent reading of the works of the I t a l i a n w r i t e r ,
and the l o g i c of the a c t i o n of the plays conforms to that
which u n d e r l i e s the careers of the p r i n c e s considered by
Machiavelli. The p a r a l l e l between the p o l i t i c a l plays of
Jonson and the philosophy of M a c h i a v e l l i , indeed, seems
founded upon a s i m i l a r i t y of outlook - a w o r l d l y , indulgent
 -155-

and c y n i c a l view of men i n t h e i r p u b l i c a c t i v i t i e s — and

a common s c h o l a r l y i n t e r e s t i n and admiration f o r the achieve-
ments of ancient Rome, This' lends t o Jonson's plays an over-
a l l mood and tone that i s t r u l y M a c h i a v e l l i a n , and a f r e -
quent appearance i n h i s dialogue of what amounts to para-
phrasing of M a c h i a v e l l i a n sentiment. I n t h i s Jonson's work
i s d i s t i n c t from that o f Marlowe whose understanding of
M a c h i a v e l l i a s s e r t s i t s e l f only spasmodically against the
pre-eminently romantic trend of h i s thought and i n t e r p r e t a -
t i o n of l i f e , and from that of Shakespeare who s e l e c t s w i t h
e x q u i s i t e p r e c i s i o n the essence of the key f i g u r e Machia-
v e l l i sought t o elaborate — the c o n s t r u c t i v e , forward-
l o o k i n g , and u n f a i l i n g l y r e a l i s t i c p r i n c e .
 -156-

Chapter V - Part I I

Real Machiavellianism - W i l l i a m Shakespeare.

One can discuss the influence of ideas on a r t pedant-

i c a l l y , i n s i s t i n g that words are the o r i g i n o f ideas, and
that the i n f l u e n c e of i d e a on an a r t i s t can be shown only by r e -
ference t o chapter and verse. The substance of thought, how-
ever, i s experience; and whether one evolves thought through
communication o r through d i r e c t experience, i t i s l i f e that
confirms and quickens one s conclusion.
f
I n every age,
scholars have discussed the philosophies o f the time as i f
they derived from the w r i t i n g s o r pronouncements of t h i s ,
t h a t or the other i n d i v i d u a l . Looking a l i t t l e deeper, how-
ever, one can d i s c e r n that the thoughts o f i n d i v i d u a l s are
the products of a s s o c i a t i o n i n the common l i f e of s o c i e t y ;
that ideas are a r e f l e c t i o n of s o c i a l a c t i v i t y , and that
l a b e l l i n g philosophies a f t e r i n d i v i d u a l s i s not u n l i k e naming
diseases and processes a f t e r the s c i e n t i s t s who made the f i r s t
u s e f u l diagnosis of them. Philosophies are as much the c r e a t i o n
 -157-

of i n d i v i d u a l s as are the diseases; they had t h e i r being

among men before the t h i n k e r conceived h i s t h e s i s . Naming
p h i l o s o p h i e s a f t e r i n d i v i d u a l s i s j u s t i f i e d to the extent
t h a t the p a r t i c u l a r i n d i v i d u a l so honored more p r e c i s e l y ,
more s u c c i n c t l y , more u s e f u l l y summarized and expounded the
experience represented i n the thought than d i d others: t h i s
i s h i s c o n t r i b u t i o n , that he formulated experience i n words
that made a v a i l a b l e to workers i n the f i e l d discussed a
ready-made t o o l , even as the medical s c i e n t i s t by h i s
diagnosis a f f o r d s medical i n v e s t i g a t o r s and p r a c t i t i o n e r s
an instrument which s i m p l i f i e s t h e i r task of research and
of h e a l i n g .
I n h i s works M a c h i a v e l l i r e f l e c t e d w i t h c r y s t a l c l a r i t y
the p o l i t i c s of h i s time, and gave t o p o l i t i c i a n s an exact
text-book of t h e i r c r a f t . I n M a c h i a v e l l i I s expressed the
p o l i t i c a l consequences of the d i f f u s i o n of i n i t i a t i v e that
accompanied the d i s i n t e g r a t i o n of feudal corporate s o c i e t y
and that Imposed upon the i n d i v i d u a l the n e c e s s i t y t o
grapple d i r e c t l y and alone w i t h the problems of s u r v i v a l ,
M a c h i a v e l l i defined what h i s contemporaries were being com-
p e l l e d by circumstances to p r a c t i c e ; and he r a i s e d to the
sphere of conscious controversy the p r i n c i p l e s upon which
 -158-

the p o l i t i c a l p r a c t i s e of h i s . e r a r e s t e d . The r e f l e c t i o n of
those p r i n c i p l e s i n works of a r t might derive e i t h e r d i r e c t l y
from the a r t i s t ' s experience or from acquaintance w i t h Ma-
c h i a v e l l i 's w r i t i n g s , or from both. I f the a r t i s t ' s glance
were of a k i n d and as penetrating as that of M a c h i a v e l l i h i s
work would reincarnate the world as M a c h i a v e l l i saw i t .
Machiavellianism was the r e f l e c t i o n of the m a t e r i a l i s t and
n a t u r a l i s t a t t i t u d e to power that underlay the p o l i t i c s of
the renaissance.
A r t i s t i c r e a c t i o n to the p o l i t i c a l - r e l i g i o u s polemics
i n which the name of M a c h i a v e l l i f i g u r e d emerged, n a t u r a l l y
enough, at the peak of E l i z a b e t h ' s r e i g n , when the l o g i c a l
consequences of the Tudor renaissance p o l i c y threatened f i n a l l y
to subordinate the feudal to the modern world, and thejprince,
as the embodiment of a u t h o r i t y , became v i t a l as the agent of
r e c o n c i l i a t i o n and c o n t i n u i t y between the passing and the
r i s i n g society. As has been shown, Marlowe endowed the
usurping prince and the unrestrained s e l f - s e e k e r as h i s counter-
part among common men w i t h d i a b o l i c a l q u a l i t i e s . More r e a l -
i s t i c a l l y , Jonson portrayed the conniving p r i n c e , both i n
power and i n the ascent to power, r a t i o n a l l y , w i t h the
scholar's j u d i c i o u s and detached a p p r e c i a t i o n of the deceptions,
i l l u s i o n s and a f f e c t a t i o n s of ambitious people; while he
 -159-

showed i n h i s treatment of Cicero that he understood the

r e p u b l i c a n p o t e n t i a l i t i e s of the strong, wise and popular
prince* Shakespeare placed upon the stage as i n l i f e the
true renaissance p r i n c e as M a c h i a v e l l i analysed him; and i n
t r e a t i n g of the usurper whose aim was tyranny, he couched
h i s a n a l y s i s i n terms of the r e a l , the c r e d i b l e , the human,
i

the n a t u r a l ; and confessed r e c o g n i t i o n of the enescapable ^ j t j 0Y)

dilemma of the t r a d i t i o n a l i s t i n an era of r e v o l u t i o n a r y

change*
I n the Henry VI plays Richard Plantagenet, Duke of
Y o r k j i s p i c t u r e d by Shakespeare as a great p r i n c e , the
l i k e n e s s of whom to the hero of M a c h i a v e l l i i s s t r i k i n g *
The Duke of York not only sees himself as the man born w i t h
a b i l i t y to r u l e , but he demonstrates i n a l l h i s acts a
shrewdness and resourcefulness that places him always i n
the p o s i t i o n of command*
I n s p i r e d by the tumult and chaos of England under
Henry VI^Richard puts forward h i s claim to the throne o f
England* He i s introduced to the audience challenging h i s
companions t o question the l e g i t i m a c y of h i s claim to power*
He speaks d e c i s i v e l y , demandingly, as one who, convinced of
3
the n e c e s s i t y to a c t , r e q u i r e ^ a d e c l a r a t i o n from h i s asso-
 -i6o-

ciates. F o r t h r i g h t and imperative, he i s nevertheless ready

to
t o l i s t e n to others, to keep s i l e n t when necessary and/remain^|
lag-patient. He knows when t o demand and when to ask, and how
to be soft-spoken and m i l d . He has respect f o r the law and
f o r h i s supporters both o f gentle and of common b i r t h , as
w e l l as f o r the great nobles who support him. He i s a good
general. He i s v a l i a n t , p a s s i o n a t e l y fond o f h i s country and
tender of her p r e s t i g e abroad; he i s s k i l f u l i n h i s r e s o r t t o
s t r a t e g y and d u p l i c i t y ; he has a sharp w i t . He i s capable
of tremendous passions, but he can exercise s e l f - c o n t r o l . He
i s r u t h l e s s l y r e a l i s t i c , can be suave and p o l i t i c , and i s
u n f l i n c h i n g i n dangerous s i t u a t i o n s i n which d i g n i t y , daring :

and eloquence can be as d e c i s i v e f o r s e c u r i t y as the sword.

He i s feared and respected by the people, w i t h whom he i s
popular; and he sees himself as the r e s t o r e r of order and
good government i n England.
This M a c h i a v e l l i a n of Shakespeare's honors M a c h i a v e l l i • s
p r i n c i p l e t h a t the new p r i n c e , i f he has widsom, " s h a l l seeme
1 n

as though he came by the estate by anciente inheritaunce..

1) The P r i n c e , XXIV, pp. 108 - 1 0 9 .

 -l6l-

and i s concerned t o e s t a b l i s h h i s r i g h t t o r u l e by b i r t h ,
although he, l i k e M a c h i a v e l l i ^ f e e l s that^and h i s " w i l l t o
i d e n t i f y h i m s e l f and h i s personal aims w i t h the welfare of
the populace, ^aad h i s provon^afbilitiea are proof enough of
h i s greatness and of h i s r i g h t to r u l e . I n only one i n -
stance does Richard, Duke of Y o r k , f a i l t o l i v e up t o the
requirements of the M a c h i a v e l l i a n p r i n c e . I n Act I of P a r t
I I I of Henry VI,when w i t h Warwick and h i s armed f o r c e s he
occupies the Parliament House ahead of Henry VI and h i s
queen, and i s i n a p o s i t i o n to enforce h i s right t o the
throne, he swears t o recognise Henry VI as k i n g during
Henry's l i f e . I f Henry w i l l acknowledge hlra and h i s sons
as h e i r s to the.throne, he d e c l a r e s , he w i l l r e t i r e to h i s
estate and l i v e as a duke under Henry V I . This a c t costs
him h i s throne and h i s l i f e , and England?^ the peace and
order which he was f i g h t i n g t o r e s t o r e to her. At one
stroke he thus abandons the advantage of p o p u l a r i t y and armed
s u p e r i o r i t y , ignores h i s pledge to have the heart's blood of
the L a n c a s t r i a n s , puts h i m s e l f a t the mercy of a r i v a l power,
and places f a i t h i n the contract of an enemy. The r e s u l t i s
renewed wars; f u r t h e r chaos and d i s o r d e r and l o s s of l i f e .
The s i t u a t i o n i n which York appears i s one t h a t was
 -162-

common i n any feudal country and was remaned upon by

M a c h i a v e l l i , who noted that p r i n c i p a l i t i e s r u l e d
".••by a prynce and c e r t e i n e Peeres whoe haue
been raysed to that honour not by the favour
or permission of t h e i r prynce, but by the _
discente and a n t i q u l t i e of t h e i r owne b l u d " ,
are c o n t r o l l e d w i t h i n f i n i t e d i f f i c u l t y and are seldom t r a n -
quil.
Act I of I Henry VI pursues the i n t e r n a l c o n f l i c t at
home and the debacles of the E n g l i s h forces i n Prance. - York
enters upon the stage i n scene i v of act i i , when he appears
i n d i s c u s s i o n w i t h a lawyer, the e a r l s of Somerset, S u f f o l k
and Warwick, and one, Vernon. He i s m a n i f e s t l y the leader i n
the group, and i s pressing f o r a statement from the others;
York: Great) l o r d s and gentlemen, what means t h i s s i l e n c e ?
Dare no man answer i n a case of t r u t h ?
( II, iv, 1 - 2 ) 3

The l o r d s h e s i t a t e and p r e v a r i c a t e ; but Richard w i l l not

allow them to esbape a d e c l a r a t i o n of t h e i r stand on h i s c l a i m
to the throne. F i n a l l y , he challenges those who support him to

2) The P r i n c e , IV, 15.

3) W i l l i a m Shakespeare, "Henry V I , Part I " , The Works of
W i l l i a m Shakespeare, Oxford, Shakespeare Head Press, 1938
 -163-

p i c k a white rose. Somerset, York's r i v a l , p i c k s a r e d rose;

and so the i s s u e i s f o r c e d . A l l declare themselves. Here i s
a man who appears t o know how
"to rayse and continewe that opinion of him
. i n the hartes o f h i s s u i e c t s , that they maie
imagine he can n e i t h e r be abused by frawde,
nor a l t e r e d by f l a t t e r i e " . If,
Thejslur cast on York's s o c i a l o r i g i n by h i s r i v a l ,
Somerset, i s the subject of the f i n a l scene of act one. Prom
the E n g l i s h p o i n t of view, York must make c l e a r h i s claim t o
the throne by b i r t h , i f he i s n o t t o expose himself t o the
charge of usurper.
I n t h i s scene, t h e r e f o r e , the descent o f York as l e g i t i m a t e
h e i r t o the crown i s c a r e f u l l y rehearsed by h i s dying uncle,
Edmund Mortimer. Mortimer declares that York's f a t h e r , the
E a r l of Cambridge, died t r y i n g to r e s t o r e the r i g h t f u l kings
to the throne, and he urges York t o c l a i m the crown. When,
however, York betrays impatience and bursts out p a s s i o n a t e l y
that h i s f a t h e r ' s death was bloody tyranny, Mortimer cautions
him:
Mortimer: With s i l e n c e , nephew, be thou p o l i t i c :
( I I , i , 101 )

k-) The P r i n c e , x i x , 79.

 -164

York takes h i s uncle's counsel} and r e s o l v e s to a c t

w i t h d i s c r e t i o n and cunning. He decides f i r s t to seek r e -
c o g n i t i o n of h i s r i g h t through parliament, and to
Make ray i l l t h ' advantage of my good,
( I I , i , 29 )
or show t h a t he ^can reape some commodity owt of anyie i n -
convenience".
Before Parliament, where the dispute between the Bishop
of Winchester and the Duke of Gloucester i s a i r e d , York holds
h i s peace, deeming i t not t i m e l y t o i n t e r v e n e : --
York: (aside)
Plantagenet, I see must h o l d h i s tongue,
L e s t i t be s a i d , "Speak, s i r r a h , when you should;
Must your b o l d v e r d i c t enter t a l k w i t h l o r d s " ,
( I I I , i i , 6 l - 63)
He i s then a l l h u m i l i t y when Henry V I , i n response to
Warwick's r e p r e s e n t a t i o n , grants the r e s t o r a t i o n of h i s t i t l e
and h i s l a n d s :
York: Thy humble servant vows obedience
And humble s e r v i c e t i l l the p o i n t of death.
And so t h r i v e Richard as thy foes may f a l l .
And as my duty s p r i n g s , so p e r i s h they
That grudge one -thought against your majesty I
( I I I , 1, I67-168; 174- 176)
A f t e r varying f o r t u n e s , the E n g l i s h are v i c t o r i o u s again

5) The * r i n c e , x x i , 102
 -165-

i n France and Henry VI goes t o ^ a r i s t o be crowned. York

i s present, but remains s i l e n t u n t i l the court i s invaded by
two persons i n c o n f l i c t over the roses they wear* While King
Henry addresses the two d i s p u t a n t s , and makes a p l a y of t r e a t -
i n g t h e i r d i f f e r e n c e s l i g h t l y by t a k i n g the r e d rose and a i r i l y
pinning i t on h i m s e l f , d e c l a r i n g i t means nothing, York r e -
mains c a u t i o u s l y q u i e t * But, when the k i n g has gone, he shows
by h i s exchange w i t h Warwick over the favor shown t o Somerset
that h i s challenge t o the throne i s indeed l i v i n g and ardentt.
He remains quiet again, however, i n the i n t e r e s t , as i t l a t e r
appears, of England's f i g h t f o r France*
In France, York, i n command of f o r c e s f o r the r e l i e f of
Talbot at Bordeaux, i s prevented from taking a c t i o n by the
f a i l u r e of Somerset t o send the promised reinforcements* York
fumes and rages, but remains at h i s post, and i n the end has
the honour of conquering Joan of Arc and sending her to exe-
cution* York thus f a r appears as the p a t r i o t i c and magnani-
mous prince and competent army l e a d e r ; a man of passionate
f e e l i n g , who, however, knows how t o keep h i m s e l f w e l l i n hand*
S t i l l b i d i n g h i s time, York f u r t h e r r e s t r a i n s h i m s e l f
w h i l e the marriage of Henry VI t o Margaret, daughter of King

6) IV, i , 1 7 4 " 181

 -166-

R e i g n i e r , I s solemnized and the h u m i l i a t i n g peace w i t h

Prance i s read. He remains s i l e n t even a f t e r the k i n g has
l e f t the court with a l l but Hork, S a l i s b u r y and Warwick*
S a l i s b u r y speaks out, however, denouncing the corrupt s e l f -
seeking o f Somerset and h i s a s s o c i a t e s , and appealing t o
York and Warwick to j o i n together i n an e f f o r t to save
England. S a l i s b u r y argues that ^ork by h i s m i l i t a r y ex-
p l o i t s I n I r e l a n d and Prance, has won the f e a r and respect
of the people. York i s thus appealed t o as the man of
v i r t u e who can save the n a t i o n from the d i s a s t e r s i n t o which
the s e l f - s e e k i n g f a c t i o n ofjmobles under Somerset have l e a d
it*
Salisbury:; While these (Somerset and h i s a s s o c i a t e s )
do labour f o r t h e i r own preferment,
Behoves i t us t o labour f o r the realm*
II ( I, 1, 181 - 182) 7

L a t e r i n the same speech, addressing h i m s e l f t o York, he adds;

Salisbury: And, brother York, thy acts i n I r e l a n d ,
In b r i n g i n g them t o c i v i l d i s c i p l i n e ;
Thy l a t e e x p l o i t s done i n the heart of Prance,
When thou wert regent f o r our sovereign,
Have made thee f e a r ' d and honour'd of the
people:-
J o i n we together, f o r the p u b l i c good,
In what we can, t o b r i d l e and suppress

7) Shakespeare, "Henry V I , P a r t I I " , Works, 1938*

 -167-

The p r i d e of S u f f o l k and the c a r d i n a l ,

With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition;
And, as we may, c h e r i s h Duke Humphrey's deeds,
While they do tend the p r o f i t of the land*
To t h i s Warwick and York comment:
Warwick: So God help Warwick, as he loves the l a n d ,
And common p r o f i t of h i s country.
York: (aside)
And so says York, f o r he hath greatest cujsise.
I I ( I , i , 194 - 207 )
A f t e r Warwick and S a l i s b u r y go, York breaks out i n t o
a s o l i l o q u y that r e v e a l s h i s whole heart: He sees i n the
l o s s of the French provinces and the Sxtravaganst concessions
made f o r Margaret's consent t o marry H n r y , the squandering
e

of h i s own patrimony. He can w a i t , however, f o r the favorable

moment to a c t ,
A day w i l l come when York s h a l l c l a i m h i s own;
( I , 1, 239 )
and, as h i s s t r a t e g y , he plans t o go along f o r a time a t
l e a s t , w i t h Warwick and S a l i s b u r y , i n support of the Duke of
Gloucester and against the Somerset and S u f f o l k c l i q u e *
His o b j e c t , he s t a t e s now,, i s to become k i n g :
York: And, when I spy advantage, c l a i m the crown,
For that's the golden mark I seek t o h i t :
( I, i , 21+.2 - 21+3 )
He despises Henry's " c h u r h - l i k e humours" as u n f i t f o r a k i n g ;
 -168-

and, indeed, the p r i n c e of M a c h i a v e l l i would never be a v i c -

tim of a e l i g i o n as Henry i s * York's t a c t i c i s w a i t i n g :
York: Then, York, be s t i l l awhile, t i l l time do serve:
Watch thou and wake, when others be asleep,
To pry i n t o the secrets of the s t a t e ;
( I , i , ILI - ks )
When the time a r r i v e s he w i l l grapple w i t h the house of
Lancaster and f o r c e the crown from i t . Meanwhile, the
machinations progress against the Duke of Gloucester and h i s
w i f e Eleanor, S u f f o l k and Beaufort conducting them, and York
q u i e t l y supporting them. When Buckingham and York together
d i s c o v e r and expose the Duchess Elanor c o n s u l t i n g w i t h d e v i l s ,
York d i s c r e e t l y leaves Buckingham t o r e p o r t the event to the
king.
S a t i s f i e d that the downfall of the P r o t e c t o r , Duke
Humphrey, I s imminent, York c a l l s together S a l i s b u r y and
Warwick, and places before them h i s request f o r t h e i r support
of him as claimant to the crown. He persuades them t o agree,
a f t e r he has again reviewed h i s l i n e a g e ; and he then l a y s
before them h i s p l a n t o act against the k i n g when the split
of the Somerset f a c t i o n agairs t the Lord P r o t e c t o r and h i s
wife i s completed.
Encouraged by the promise of support, York j o i n s i n the
 -169

accusations against Bloucester, and conspires w i t h Margaret,

Beaufort and S u f f o l k to b r i n g about the death of the P r o t e c -
tor. The f i r s t obstacle to the throne he claims he thus
dooms by conspiracy w i t h h i s own r i v a l s .
When the news a r r i v e s that -4 eland i s i n r e v o l t and
,

that an armed f o r c e i s needed to suppress the r e b e l s , York

f u r t h e r reveals h i s c r a f t i n e s s . He sneeringly suggests the
appointment of Somerset, who has j u s t returned from Prance
a f t e r having l o s t a l l the E n g l i s h provinces there. Somerset
b r i d l e s , and Beaufort comes forward to suggest that York,
perhaps, would l i k e to take the -*-rish post. York agrees,
and they a l l consent, t h i n k i n g they are r i d of him. After
they have l e f t , however, York, again i n s o l i l o q u y , reveals
his p o l i c y . I t i s the c a r e f u l and c a l c u l a t e d p l a n of a
true M a c h i a v e l l i a n :
York: Now, York, or never, s t e e l they fearful® thoughts,
And change misdoubt to r e s o l u t i o n ;
Be that thou hopest t o be; or what thou a r t
Resign to death, — i t i s not worth t h enjoying: 1

Let pale-faced f e a r keep w i t h the mean-born man,

And f i n d no harbour i n a r o y a l h e a r t .
Paster than spring-time showers comes thought
on thought;
And not a thought but t h i n k s on d i g n i t y .
My b r a i n , more busy than the l a b o u r i n g s p i d e r ,

8) f e a r f u l here undoubtedly means f u l l of f e a r , York i s

t r y i n g t o work h i s courage up and cast out f e a r .
 -170-

Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies*

W e l l , nobles, w e l l , ' t i s p o l i t i c l y done,
To send me packing w i t h an host of men:
I f e a r me you but warm the starved snake,
Who, c h e r i s h t i n your b r e a s t s , w i l l s t i n g your
hearts*
'Twas men I l a c k t , and you w i l l give them me:
I take i t k i n d l y ; yet be w l l assured
You put sharp weapons i n amadman's hands.
Whiles I i n I r e l a n d nourish a might*) band,
I w i l l s t i r up i n England some black storm,
S h a l l How ten thousand souls to heaven or h e l l ;
And t h i s f e l l tempest s h a l l not cease t o rage
U n t i l the golden c i r c u i t on ray head,
L i k e to the g l o r i o u s sun's transparent beams,
Do calm the f u r y of this-mad-bred flaw*
( I I I , I, 331 " 35k)
Although some of the i d i o h here i s p e r i l o u s l y close to
that of the "romantic M a c h i a v e l l i a n " , there i s a greater
s i g n i f i c a n c e to the passage. York here i s the man of r e s o l u -
t i o n , consciously nerving himself to a great task. He r e j o i c e s
i n the mental e x e r c i s e of p l o t t i n g and c o n t r i v i n g the means
of a t t a i n i n g h i s noble o b j e c t . He r e a l i z e s t h a t not f o r c e
alone, but f r a u d , deception and cunning are r e q u i r e d f o r
success. His a t t i t u d e toward the nobles who have been t r i c k e d
i n t o making him the head of an army i s not malevolent or
v i n d i c t i v e , but rather l o f t i l y contemptuous; h i s s u p e r i o r i t y
to them pleases and at the same time e n t e r t a i n s him. He"
knows t h e i r f a i l u r e to measure up to him w i l l prove t h e i r
downfall and h i s success; and, although the i n t e n s i t y of
 -171

h i s f e e l i n g s , now that he i s committed t o a c t i o n from which

there i s no t u r n i n g back, s t a r t l e s and a l i t t l e dismays him,
h i s confidence r i s e s and h i s plans crystallize.
With an army a t h i s command,he f e e l s he can go forward
w i t h h i s preparations to foment an u p r i s i n g w i t h i n England
under the leadership of Jack Cade, "A headstrong Kentishman",
who resembles John Mortimer, now dead. This r i s i n g , he f e e l s
can be used to h i s advantage; and we f i n d him d e c l a r i n g
that by the r e v o l t
I s h a l l perceive the common's mind,
How they a f f e c t the house and c l a i m of York.
( III, 1, 374 - 375)

In t h i s York honours M a c h i a v e l l i ' s argument:

" . . . f o r noe man w i l l venter t o take i n
hande a conspiracie unles he make t h i s
reconinge w i t h h i m s e l f , that the death
of the p r i n c e wilbe acceptable t o the
people"• 9
York i s the shrewd tfildge of the circumstances he r e q u i r e s
to make h i s c l a i m e f f e c t i v e ; he must know the popular w i l l ,
he must have an army a t h i s command, and he must be s a t i s -
f i e d that the main persons standing between himself and the
crown are disposed of. I t i s c l e a r from h i s argument that
he r e s t s h i s a b i l i t y t o achieve h i s object i n the favor of

9) The r i n c e , x i x , 80
f
 -172-

the people, armed f o r c e and h i s own cunning. His ruthlessness

i s evident; Jack Cade i s a pawn i n h i s game, u s e f u l , but ex-
pendable; so were S u f f o l k and Buckingham, f o r a time.
While York i s busy w i t h h i s , I r i s h e x p e d i t i o n , Humphrey,
Duke of Gloucester, Lord P r o t e c t o r of England, i s murdered by
an a s s a s s i n h i r e d by S u f f o l k . Upon h i s death, Warwick and
S a l i s b u r y , aware i n advance that the crime was to be committed,
a r r i v e at the head of a crowd of common people at Bury St.
Edmunds, where the murder took place. They invade the palace
and demand an explanation. Warwick charges S u f f o l k w i t h
murder, and the commons demand h i s banishment. The k i n g con-
sents.
Thus the events i n s p i r e d by York and h i s supporters,
Warwick and S a l i s b u r y , who q u i e t l y abetted Somerset and
S u f f o l k i n t h e i r p l o t s against the Gloucesters and who gave
consent to the death of Humphrey, l e a d to the d i s i n t e g r a t i o n
of the second group of nobles that stand between York and
the throne. S u f f o l k ' s banishment deprives the group of i t s
most daring and r e s o u r c e f u l member; and the f o l l y of the
a s s a s s i n a t i o n strengthens the commons' hatred of the S u f f o l k
group, and enhances the popular favor of those who exposed
the crime, Warwick and S a l i s b u r y , the a l l i e s of York. Surely
 -173-

the manoeuvring of these developments i s the work of the

M a c h i a v e l l i a n prince who knows how to s u i t a c t i o n t o the
times, to w a i t , to i n f l u e n c e men's minds, to win popular
support, and to b u i l d armed strength.
Pate lends a hand to help on York when C a r d i n a l Beau-
f o r t dies w i t h i n hours of the discovery of the death of
Gloucester, and when S u f f o l k i s beheaded by a seaman, Walter
Whitmore,' who i s represented as destined to execute S u f f o l k ,
Whitmore i s one of a ship's crew who seem united behind a
remarkable c a p t a i n who knows the whole h i s t o r y ' o f S u f f o l k
and who i s confident that England i s r i s i n g up under the
N e v i l s i n support of York*
Cade's u p r i s i n g proves the t r u t h of the cap-tain's pro-
phecy that an a c t i o n f a v o r i n g York would soon develop. The
f o l l o w e r s of Cade are moved, l i k e York, by the l o s s of the
French provinces and Henry's inept r u l e at home. They accept
Cade's c l a i m to become p r o t e c t o r over Henry VI so that England's
p r e s t i g e can be r e s t o r e d . I n the end the r i s i n g i s broken up
by C l i f f o r d ' s c l e v e r appeal to the people's f e e l i n g f o r the
w a r r i o r k i n g , Henry V, whose memory the people revere, and
by the doubt he rouses i n them that Cade can l e a d them to
triumph over t h e i r f o r e i g n enemies the French, or even help
 -174-

them p r o t e c t England against a French i n v a s i o n . This

i d e n t i t y of the people's and York's f e e l i n g about England's
p o s i t i o n , and the proof of the people's admiration f o r a
w a r r i o r k i n g , strengthen the prospects f o r York's r e t u r n .
Scarcely i s Cade's r e b e l l i o n dispersed than news a r r i v e s
that York i s back i n England w i t h h i s army, d e c l a r i n g h i s
r e t u r n i s to save the k i n g from the t r a i t o r , Somerset. This
i
excuse i s p l a u s i b l e , and f r e e s York from being charged with;
sedition. As M a c h i a v e l l i remarks, "a p r i n c e can never wante
occasions to c o l l o u r the breache of h i s promise". ^
Encamped between D a r t f o r d and Blackheath, York prepares
f o r h i s seizure of the crown. He sees himself now as not
only the l a w f u l k i n g , but the man w i t h the a b i l i t y t o r u l e ;
York: Let them obey that know not how to r u l e ;
This hand was made t o handle naught but gold.
I cannot give due a c t i o n t o my words,
Except a sword or sceptre balance i t :
A sceptre s h a l l i t have, — have I a s o u l , —
On which I ' l l toss the flower-de-luce of France.
( V, 1, 6 - 11 )
He i s the M a c h i a v e l l i a n man who by h i s own v i r t u e and
c a p a c i t y has the r i g h t , because he knows how, to r u l e , and

10) The P r i n c e , x v i i i , 75
 -175-

becauae he has a v i s i o n f o r h i s country's greatness.

He i s i n t e r r u p t e d i n h i s musings by the sudden a r r i v a l
of the king's envoy, Buckingham, who has been warned, not
out of p i t y but out of f e a r , not t o deal roughly w i t h York,
York, immediately cautious and wary, gathers h i s f a c u l t i e s ;
York: Whom have we here? Buckingham, to d i s t u r b me?
The k i n g hath sent him, a i r e : I must dissemble,
( V, 1, 12 - 13 )

Prepared f o r defence, York y e t gives the appearance of

being completely duped when Buckingham assures him that the
k i n g has a r r e s t e d and imprisoned Somerset. On the unconfirmed
word of Buckingham, he dismisses h i s s o l d i e r s and i s prepar-
ing to go to the palace when the k i n g enters w i t h a number of
attendants, and i s soon followed by the queen accompanied by
Somerset, The apparent f a l l i b i l i t y o f an otherwise most
astute p r i n c e may be an example o f the b u l l i b i l i t y t o which
people become v i c t i m s by the pressure of t h e i r needs and
desires. The convenient entrances of Warwick, Sals bury, and
York's sons l a t e r , however, when York i s threatened w i t h
a r r e s t , suggest that York knew h i s s t r e n g t h , and was indeed

11) The Discourses, I , 1 0 2

 -176^-

dissembling when he exposed himself t o capture.

York, apparently trapped,reveals h i s mettle. He
b o l d l y challenges the k i n g , demanding an explanation f o r
Somerset's beHng a t l a r g e , and he denounces the k i n g f o r
h i s bad f a i t h , h i s weakness, and h i s i n e p t i t u d e :
York:
thou a r t not k i n g ;
Not f i t to govern and r u l e m u l t i t u d e s ,
Which darest not, no, nor canst not r u l e a t r a i t o r .
That head of t h i n e doth not become a crown;
Thy hand i s made to grasp a palmer's s t a f f ,
And not to grace the awful p r i n c e l y sceptre.
That gold must round e n g i r t these brows of mine;
Whose smile and frown, l i k e t o A c h i l l e s ' spear,
Is able w i t h the change t o k i l l and cure.
Here i s a hand to hold a sceptre up,
And w i t h the same t o act c o n t r o l l i n g laws.
Give p l a c e : by heaven, thou s h a l t r u l e no more
O'er him whom heaven created f o r they r u l e r .
( V, i , 92 - 105 )
York i s here the magnanimous p r i n c e , b o m to r u l e by
a b i l i t y not by h e r e d i t y . The bases of h i s claims t o the
crown are those endorsed by M a c h i a v e l l i , as the weaknesses of
Henry are those M a c h i a v e l l i censured i n a p r i n c e . As the
scene develops, York's' boldness i s commanding. Ordered
a r r e s t e d , he r e f u s e s t o go w i t h the guards, and has h i s sons
c a l l e d i n t o go surety f o r him. When Old C l i f f o r d and h i s
son enter, f o l l o w i n g York's sons, and do obeisance t o Henry
as King, York d e l i b e r a t e l y assumes they are recognizing him,
 -177-

and thanks them. Their denunciation and demand f o r York's

arrest, i s cut short by the entry of Warwick and Salsbury.
The f o r c e s are drawn; York's challenge i s i n the open; the
court and a l l England s t a n d i d i v i d e d ; a l l leave t o prepare
for battle.
This i s the k i n d of b r i l l i a n t and p r i n c i p l e d challenge
f o r power that M a c h i a v e l l i hoped the Medici would make i n
Italy.
The Duke of York and h i s supporters c a r r y the v i c t o r y
i n b a t t l e , and Immediately occupy the House of Parliament.
They there conceal s o l d i e r s and await the a r r i v a l of the
k i n g and queen, who, they know, had planned to meet there,
f o l l o w i n g the f i g h t . Encouraged by Warwick and by h i s sons,
York i s persuaded t o occupy the r e g a l c h a i r . The dethroning
of Henry now seems imminent.
York f a i l s , however, i n p o l i c y , when he t r u s t s the
k i n g , whom he already had found wanting i n f a i t h , and accepts
h i s promise t o recognize York and h i s h e i r s as r u l e r s of
England a f t e r Henry's death. Although t h i s a c t i o n f r e e s York
of any charge of excessive ambition, i t makes nonsense of h i s
f r e q u e n t l y voiced concern f o r the p l i g h t of England under the
i n e p t Henry; and i t abandons the people, f o r whose cause he
 -178-

claimed to f i g h t .
York's a b d i c a t i o n of h i s claim to the crown during the
l i f e of Henry V I , nevertheless i s h i s t o r y ; as was h i s character
g e n e r a l l y as Shakespeare depicted him. Had M a c h i a v e l l i been
t a k i n g h i s examples from the h i s t o r y of England he might have
s e l e c t e d York, as Shakespeare draws him, as an example of the
great p r i n c e whose v i r t u e was marred by an excessive respect
for tradition. But i n every instance but t h i s he i s the
true M a c h i a v e l l i a n p r i n c e .

Chapter V — Part I I
Subdivision 2
The p r i n c e who comes to power and r e t a i n s a u t h o r i t y i n
the most d i f f i c u l t circumstances, according to M a c h i a v e l l i ,
i s he who achieves h i s aim p r i n c i p a l l y through the a s s i s t a n c e
of other great men, and who then s u c c e s s f u l l y secures him-
s e l f against the jealousy and r e v o l t of those who f i r s t abetted
him. Such a p r i n c e i s Henry Bolingbroke, l a t e r Henry IV,
successor to Richard I I . I n R i c h a r d , Duke of York, Shakespeare
had depicted the p r i n c e who demonstrated true M a c h i a v e l l i a n
resourcefulness i n the attempt t o achieve power against great
odds, and who, i n p u r s u i t of t h i s aim made use of every ad-
vantage of s u p e r i o r courage, cunning and c l a r i t y of aim and
 -179-

every weakness i n the f r o n t of h i s opponents to compel recog-

n i t i o n of and advancement f o r h i m s e l f . I n Henry Bollnbroke,
he presents the man whom personal q u a l i t i e s , fortune, the
v o l u n t a r y help of the great and the favor of the people r a i s e s
to power, and who, placed I n command of a n a t i o n by these a i d s ,
s u c c e s s f u l l y c o n s o l i d a t e s and maintains h i s power against con-
s p i r a c y and r e v o l t .
When Henry Bolingbroke landed at Ravenspurgh, h i s c l a i m
was merely h i s dukedom; but the access of power which came to
him from the welcome of Northpnberland, Westmoreland, Hotspur,
Willoughby, Ross and others, from the favor shown him by the
common people, the l o r d s of the n o r t h , and the gentlemen of
the south, the young and the o l d , and from the p u s i l l a n i m i t y
and perverseness of Richard I I encouraged him to c l a i m the
crown. Bolingbroke, t h e r e f o r e , d i d not r i s e up i n r e v o l t ,
conspire or connive h i s way t o power; he came to a s s e r t a
r i g h t under the law; he d i d not s e i z e opportunity, occasion
used him; he d i d not c r e a t e , he accepted a s i t u a t i o n . His
r i s e to power t h e r e f o r e , l a y e s s e n t i a l l y w i t h the arms and I n -
fluence of those nobles who abandoned Richard I I i n the hope
of a b e t t e r government, a government more to t h e i r l i k i n g .
 180

As M a c h i a v e l l i warned, a r u l e r such as Henry l i v e s under the

constant t h r e a t of r e b e l l i o n from those nobles who a i d him
t o power, because i t i s most u n l i k e l y that t h e i r expectations
w i l l be r e a l i z e d under h i s r u l e , and because h i s power r e s t s
not i n support of h i s own making, but i n the continued a l l e g i a n c e
of those who chose to a l i g n themselves w i t h him f o r t h e i r own
12
advantage*
At the c o n c l u s i o n o^Rjchard I I , Bolingbroke, now Henry
IV, i s already c a l l e d upon to deal w i t h conspiracy against
him, and to grant clemency to Aumerle, h i s cousin, one of the
c o n s p i r a t o r s , and to mete out death sentences to the r e s t . He
i s l e d a l s o , by the danger to which Richard's l i f e exposes him,
to i n c i t e assassins t o k i l l him.
Bolingbroke, however, proves himself equal t o the tasks
imposed by power. I n Henry IV, Part I , the means by which he
consolidates h i s c o n t r o l of England i s r e c i t e d i n the grievance
placed before Blunt by the r e b e l s under Hqspur. After r e l a t -
i n g how Henry a r r i v e d at Ravenspurgh and enjoyed i n c r e a s i n g i-.-
support — i n s p i r e d , according to Hotspur, c h i e f l y by Northum-
berland' s welcome — Hotspur reminds Blunt that Bolingbroke
had deposed and l a t e r k i l l e d the k i n g , and then had subdued

_ - ' ' '• ' ~ '

if) The P r i n c e , I I I , 5
 -181-

the whole s t a t e ? t o h i s a u t h o r i t y : that he had allowed h i s

kinsman, M o r t i m e r , — who had a more d i r e c t t i t l e to the
crown — io remain, unransomed, a p r i s o n e r i n Wales: that
he had deprived Hotspur of the p r i s o n e r s he had captured by
h i s own prowess; and that he had set spies upon Hotspiur to
trap him: t h a t he had d r i v e n Hotspur's u n c l e , Worcester, from
the king's c o u n c i l ; and i n a rage had dismissed Northumber-
l a n d from c o u r t : that he had indeed broken one oath a f t e r
another given to those who aided him; and that he had committed
one wrong a f t e r another u n t i l he had d r i v e n the l o r d s i n s e l f -
defence to r e b e l . He had, indeed, as Hotspur put i t " f o o l ' d ,
13
discarded, and shook o f f " J
those who had helped him to power.
T h i s " v i l e p o l i t i c i a n , Bolingbroke", however, when faced
w i t h the u p r i s i n g under the P e r c i e s , shows that he can muster
a greater force and wider popular support than can the r e v o l t -
i n g l o r d s ; and h i s strength persuades the supreme opportunist,
Northumberland, f a t h e r of Hotspur, not to commit h i s f o l l o w -
ing to the u p r i s i n g , although h i s own son leads I t . A f t e r the
f i r s t encounter ends i n Hotspur's death and the rout of the
r e b e l s , a second muster of the r e b e l s i s persuaded to p a r l e y
about terms. Now, Henry IV accomplishes h i s second v i c t o r y

13) I Henry IV, I , i i i , 178

 -182-

by s t r a t e g y and d e c e i t . Making an agreement through h i s

S
son John of Lancaster t o grant the r e b e l l o r d s redress of t h e i r
grievances, he persuades them t o disband t h e i r f o r c e s , and
then has them a r r e s t e d , e x p l a i n i n g suavely that he made no
promise not t o seize t h e i r persons.
Thus by demonstrating m i l i t a r y strength, popular support
and a capacity f o r s u b t l e t y and f r a u d , Henry IV secures the
throne won by f a v o r i n g fortune and the help o f others. Of
h i s possession of the crown H nry IV t e l l s h i s son, H a l :
Q

. . . . I had many l i v i n g to upbraid

My gain of i t by t h e i r a s s i s t a n c e ;
Which d a i l y grew to q u a r r e l and t o bloodshed,
Wounding supposed peace: a l l these bold f e a r s
Thou see'st with p e r i l I have answered;
For a l l my r e i g n hath been but as a scene
A c t i n g that argument:
( V, i , 323 - 329 )
• • • . a l l my foes, which thou must make thy f r i e n d s , •
Have b u t t h e i r s t i n g s and t e e t h newly ta'en out;
By Whose f e l l working I was f i r s t advanced,
And by Whose power I w e l l might lodge a f e a r
To be again d i s p l a c e d : which t o avoid,
I c u t some o f f , and had a purpose now
To l e a d out many to the Holy Land,
Lest r e s t and l y i n g s t i l l might make them look
Too near unto my s t a t e . Therefore, ray Harry,
Be i t thy course to busy giddy minds
With f o r e i g n q u a r r e l s ; that a c t i o n , hence borne out,
May waste the memory of the .'former days,
( V, i , 335 - 3^6 )
The troubles of Henry are e x a c t l y those of a c h i a v e l l i s
M 1

prince who comes t o power c h i e f l y by the a i d o f others, and

 -183-

whose success i n r e t a i n i n g the throne i s a t t r i b u t a b l e to the

q u a l i t i e s urged by M a c h i a v e l l i as those e s s e n t i a l to the
true p r i n c e : capacity i n war, s u b t l e t y and f r a u d . His pro-
posal to "busy giddy minds w i t h f o r e i g n q u a r r e l s " expresses
the t a c t i c popular w i t h the astute ..King of Spain, so much
admired by M a c h i a v e l l i , ^ The essence of Henry's p o s i t i o n
i s contained i n the opening paragraph of Chapter' I I of The
P r i n c e ; and, although i t should be stressed that no suggestion
i s made that Shakespeare wrote the p l a y t o demonstrate the
p r i n c i p l e s , e n u n c i a t e d by M a c h i a v e l l i , the treatment of the
subject i s that of a person thoroughly imbued w i t h the
values and o b j e c t i v e s p i r i t and understanding of p o l i t i c a l
event that marked the t h i n k i n g of M a c h i a v e l l i ,
The character and career of Henry V i s f o r e c a s t i n the
e a r l y scenes of Henry IV, P a r t I , They are to be those of the
i d e a l p r i n c e , wise j u s t and strong. I n Scene i i of Act I of
the f i r s t p a r t o f Henry IV, the f u t u r e ' K i n g Henry V, hero of
Agincourt, carouses and jokes w i t h h i s boon.companions of the
taverns and the highways, P a l s t a f f and Poins. At the conclusion

14) The P r i n c e , XXI, 98 - 99*

 -184-

of the scene, however, i n a s o l i l o q u y obviously addressed

d i r e c t l y to the audience, he prepares the minds of h i s
l i s t e n e r s f o r the transformation t h a t i s t o take p l a c e .
Prince Henry: I know you a l l ( P a l s t a f f & Poins) and
w i l l awhile uphold
The unyoked humour of your i d l e n e s s :
Yet h e r e i n w i l l I i m i t a t e the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds,
To smother up h i s beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be h i m s e l f ,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd a t ,
By breaking through the f o u l and ugly mists
Of vapours that d i d seem to s t r a n g l e him.
I f a l l the year were p l a y i n g h o l i d a y s ,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wisht f o r
come,
And nothing p l e a s e t h but rare a c c i d e n t s .
So, when t h i s loose behavious I throw o f f ,
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much b e t t e r than my word I am,
By so much w i l l I f a l s i f y men's hopes:
And, l i k e b r i g h t metal on a s u l l e n ground,
My reformation, g l i t t e r i n g o'er my f a u l t ,
S h a l l show more goodly and a t t r a c t more eyes
Than that which hath no f o i l t o set i t o f f •
. I ' l l so offend, to make offence a s k i l l ;
Redeeming time, when men t h i n k l e a s t I w i l l ,
( I , i i , 199 - 219) l
*
The c o o l and c a l c u l a t i n g detachment o f t h i s y o u t h f u l
prince's observation i s r e v o l t i n g to anyone w i t h a human r a t h e r
than a s t a t e approach; so d e l i b e r a t e a manipulating of human
l i f e , i n c l u d i n g one's own, f o r f u t u r e , u l t e r i o r ends seems

15) W i l l i a m Shakespeare, "Henry IV, Part I " , Works, 1938

 -185-

h a r d l y n a t u r a l and c e r t a i n l y i s not common, Hal's f e e l i n g

for a l l men i s subordinated to h i s determination to shine
as a k i n g . H i s a t t i t u d e toward h i s common companions i s
easy, i n d u l g e n t , not unkind contempt; that toward the
n o b i l i t y , studied caution: toward both h i s a c t i o n s are f o r
effect. H i s i n t e n t i o n i s to impress by h i s reform those o f
both classes whom h i s present behaviour has m i s l e d , and by
t h i s demonstration of w i l l and self-command to r e i n f o r c e h i s
h o l d upon h i s s u b j e c t s , high and low; " I ' l l so offend, t o
make offence a s k i l l " . He i s offending h i s f a t h e r and the
n o b i l i t y now; he w i l l offend P a l s t a f f and Poins l a t e r ; but
he w i l l r i s e superior t o both. This capacity f o r studied
a c t i o n c a l c u l a t e d t o b a f f l e and Impress i s a t the core o f
the M a c h i a v e l l i a n p r i n c e — i s the essence of the Machia-
v e l l i a n use of the word p o l i c y ; i t assumes an absolute I n -
dependence o f mind, a complete self-assurance, shrewd judg-
ment and a detachment from t i e s of a f f e c t i o n that together
make p o s s i b l e the devotion of a l l e f f o r t t o a predetermined
end. Nor i s i t n e c e s s a r i l y associated with c o r r u p t i o n or
e v i l intent.
The suggestion that H a l i s not as abandoned as h i s
behaviour would l e a d one to b e l i e v e was expressed f i r s t by
 -186-

Henry Bolingbroke a t the conclusion of the p l a y , Richard I I .

I n scene i i i of act V Bolingbroke, accompanied by Hotspur,
came t o Windsor C a s t l e , as k i n g of England, The presence of
Hotspur, and the absence of h i s own son, Prince Hal, i n t h i s
hour of triumph stung him t o outcry:
Can no one t e l l me of my u n t h r i f t y son?
( V, i i i , 1 )
He was t o l d , and by Hotspur, that Hal was among h i s low com-
panions; and t h a t , upon being informed of the triumphs t o be
h e l d at Oxford honoring the new k i n g , h i s f a t h e r , he had s a i d
he would come wearing the glove of the commonest creature
from the stews. This i s the f i r s t reference to Prince Hal i n
the plays i n which h i s career f i g u r e s . His f a t h e r ' s r e p l y t o
Hotspur i s i n t e r e s t i n g from the p o i n t o f view being discussed
here,
Henry Bolingbroke: As d i s s o l u t e as desperate; yet
through both
I see some sparkles of a b e t t e r hope,
Which e l d e r days may h a p p i l y b r i n g
forth,—
( V, i i i , 20 - 22)

There f o l l o w s i n the f i r s t a c t of Henry IV, P a r t 1 the

e x p l i c i t statement of H a l h i m s e l f , already quoted, i n which
he confirms the hope expressed by the k i n g that he would not
 -187-

always continue t o be a ne'er-do-well. And f i n a l l y , i n

Scene i v of Act i v of the second p a r t of Henry IV, when
Henry IV, againafc triumphant, l a c k s the presence of h i s
son and h e i r , and breaks out i n despair, Warwick r e p l i e s :
Warwick: My gracious l o r d , you look beyond hlra q u i t e :
The p r i n c e but studies h i s companions,
L i k e a strange tongue; wherein, to g a i n the
language,
'Tis needful that the most immodest word
Be l o o k t upon and l e a r n ' d ; which once a t t a i n ' d
Your highness knows, comes to no f u r t h e r use
But to be known and hated. So, l i k e gross t e r n s ,
The prince w i l l , i n the perfectness of time,
Cast o f f h i s f o l l o w e r s ; and t h e i r memory
S h a l l as a p a t t e r n or a measure l i v e ,
By which h i s grace must mete the l i v e s of others,
Turning past e v i l s to advantages,
( I I Henry IV, IV, i v , 67 - 78 )
With the audience prepared by the prince's s o l i l o q u y to
see him u l t i m a t e l y emerge as a great r u l e r , the p l a y ,
Henry, IV, p a r t 1, proceeds f i r s t t o b r i n g out h i s q u a l i t i e s as
a w i t , and a man of resourcefulness and command, welcome among
and at ease w i t h common people. The s e r i e s of episodes with
P a l s t a f f , Bardolph, P i s t o l , Dame Quickly and the r e s t does
t h i s admirably, Hal i s a match f o r P a l s t a f f i n repartee,
and h i s equal i n daring and i r r e v e r e n t c r i t i c i s m of the
world, i n c l u d i n g the world of the court; he i s as ready f o r
and as able to c a r r y out a p r a c t i c a l joke as i s P a l s t a f f ;
 -188—

and h i s a t t i t u d e t o authority- i s - a s c r i t i c a l , and i s much

more d i g n i f i e d . He can a s s e r t h i s p r i n c e l y r i g h t s promptly
and e f f e c t i v e l y whenever the event c a l l s f o r i t and without 6
embarrassment or apology f o r the circumstances i n which he i s
found; and the impression i s maintained that he never a t any
time i s a v i c t i m of the v i c e s he chooses t o indulge i n h i s
companions. I f the c r i t i c i s m i s r a i s e d that he marred h i s
r e p u t a t i o n by the wildness of h i s youth, the answer i s , of
course, given by h i s own d e c l a r a t i o n t h a t i t i s a l l p a r t
of p o l i c y , a demonstration of h i s v i t a l i n t e r e s t i n l i f e ,
his self-command, and an exercise i n free w i l l . He can
stop when he chooses. And so i t proves. Thus the whole,
famous and e n t e r t a i n i n g s e c t i o n of the Henry IV plays which
i s devoted to the l i f e of the young prince among P a l s t a f f
and h i s a s s o c i a t e s , i s a b r i l l i a n t dramatization of a deep
understanding of the components of the popular p r i n c e , who
knows people, and who uses t h i s knowledge and h i s command
over v i c e s and v i r t u e s t o e f f e c t h i s own s e c u r i t y and the
s e c u r i t y of the s t a t e . As M a c h i a v e l l i says i n h i s chapter,
headed "Of those thinges which cause men and e s p e c i a l l i e
princes to be e i t h e r p r a i s e d or blamed":
" . . . i t behooves a prince to use t h a t
. d i s c r e t i o n whereby he maye avoyde the
 -189-

infamie e s p e c i a l l i e of such v i c e s as maye

weken h i s power, or hazarde the l o s s e of
his p r i n c i p a l i t i e , he should alsoe indea-
vour to shunn the reat thoughe they
threaten noe such daynger, but y f he
ceuUe douldo not, he might l e t t them passe w i t h
l y g h t regarde, n e i t h e r must he be s c r i p u -
lous to s t r a i n e c o u r t e s i e s to i n c u r r the
infamie of such v i c e s as preserve the
s a f e t i e of h i s owne e s t a t e , f o r y f matters
be weyed i n i n d i f f e r e n t b a l l a n c e s , and
considered of r i g h t l i e as they are indeede,
yow s h a l l f i n d e that by p r a c t i s i n g of some
thinges that, c a r r i e the face and shewe of
vertue yow s h a l l purchase your owne ruyne
and overthrowe, and that by f o l l o w i n g some
other that a t t the f i r s t s i g h t seeme
v i t i o u s , yow s h a l l f i n d e most sure defence
for your owne s a f e t i e and quietnesse." l 6
By v i r t u e of these scenes, Prince H a l i s shown to be b a s i -
c a l l y r o y a l and completely master of h i s passions and
n a t u r a l human i n c l i n a t i o n s and weaknesses; he does not
suppress or i n h i b i t them, he uses them, and he uses them
X 17
to h i s own and the s a t e s advantage*
1

16) The P r i n c e , XV, 67 - 6 8 .

17) J« Dover Wilson takes issue w i t h t h i s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n
of Prince H a l i n h i s work, The Fortunes of F a l s t a f f . Under the
heading, R i o t and the P r o d i g a l P r i n c e , Mr. Wilson has t h i s t o
say:
" F a l s t a f f may be the most conspicuous, he
- i s c e r t a i n l y the most f a s c i n a t i n g character
i n Henry IV, but a l l c r i t i c s are agreed, I
b e l i e v e , that the t e c h n i c a l centre of the
p l a y i s not the f a t knight but the l e a n
p r i n c e . Hal l i n k s the low l i f e w i t h the
high l i f e , the scenes of Eastcheap w i t h
those a t Westminster, the tavern w i t h the
b a t t l e f i e l d ; h i s doings provided most o f
 -190-

Long before Agincourt, indeed, and while he i s s t i l l

l i v i n g under the cloud of h i s f a t h e r ' s doubt, our young
scapegrace demonstrates the v i r t u e that i s h i s . As a
w a r r i o r he proves himself t o be superior t o the most r e -
nowned champion of the time. Henry Percy, Hotspur,- whom he
k i l l s at h i s f i r s t encounter w i t h him.
The depth o f Shakespeare's p e n e t r a t i o n of the psycho-
l o g i c a l problems t h a t beset the true M a c h i a v e l l i a n p r i n e e ,
the p r i n c e s t r i v i n g f o r absolute power and popular f a v o r ,
i s revealed f u r t h e r i n that remarkable scene w i t h Poins

the m a t e r i a l f o r both P a r t s , and w i t h him

too l i e s the f u t u r e , since he i s t o become
Henry V, the i d e a l k i n g , i n the p l a y that
bears h i s name; f i n a l l y , the mainspring o f
the dramatic a c t i o n i s the choice I have
already spoken of, the choice he i s c a l l e d
upon to make between Vanity and Government,
t a k i n g the l a t t e r i n i t s accepted Tudor mean-
i n g , which includes C h i v a l r y or prowess i n
the f i e l d , the theme of Part I , and J u s t i c e ,
which i s the theme o f Part I I . Shakespeare,
moreover, breathes l i f e i n t o these abstrac-
t i o n s by embodying them, or aspects of them,
i n prominent characters, who stand, as i t
- were, about the P r i n c e , l i k e attendant
s p i r i t s : Pal s t a f f t y p i f y i n g Vanity i n every
sense of the word, Hotspur C h i v a l r y , of the
o l d anarchic k i n d , and the Lord Chief J u s t i c e
the Rule o f Law or the new i d e a l of s e r v i c e t o
the s t a t e " .
(Prom J. Dover Wilson, The Fortunes o f F a l s t a f f
Cambridge U n i v e r s i t y Press, I9Z+3, p. 1 7 )
In t h i s Mr. Wilson I s arguing, that the essence o f the problem
of Henry IV i s the o l d medieva]jone of youth tempted by v i c e and
invoked by v i r t u e or good deeds. I f t h i s were so, the appeal of
 -191-

f o l l o w i n g the f i r s t defeat of the r e b e l nobles and Hal's

v i c t o r y over Hotspur. H a l , wandering i n the s t r e e t s of
London w i t h Poins, suddenly complains of deep weariness,
and remarks t h a t h i s thoughts are t u r n i n g to small beer.
T h i s , he f e e l s i s unworthy of him as a p r i n c e , even as h i s
a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h Poins and f a m i l i a r i t y w i t h h i s personal pro-
blems disgrace him. Hal's depression i s r e a l , but he h e s i t a t e s
to s t a t e i f f r a n k l y to Poins because he knows he w i l l not be

Henry IV to modern readers Would be p a r a l l e l l e d by that of the

o l d medieval m o r a l i t i e s . But t h i s i s not so. The essence of
the i n t e r e s t roused by Henry IV i s not, t h e r e f o r e , i t s r e f l e c -
t i o n of medieval concepts but i t s demonstration of concepts
that d i s t i n g u i s h i t from the medieval. I t i s the break w i t h
the o l d p i c t u r e of youth tempted by r i o t i n Henry IV and the
demonstration of the modern concept of independent judgment,
self-mastery and f r e e w i l l , of c o n s c i o u s l y d i r e c t e d d e s t i n y ,
that marks Henry IV as a modern p l a y . Nowhere i n the p l a y s
d e a l i n g w i t h P r i n c e Hal and P a l s t a f f i s there ever the sugges-
t i o n that Prince Hal i s not master of the s i t u a t i o n ; that he
i s t o r n between r i o t and good government; that he i s i n danger
of becoming"the v i c t i m of h i s tavern companions, that he does
not f u l l y appreciate them f o r what they are; t h a t he i s not
c o n s c i o u s l y the h e i r to the* throne and prepared t o f u l f i l
that d e s t i n y , not competently, but b r i l l i a n t l y . Everyone of
Hal's remarks about h i s companions— from those made of the
t a p s t e r s who have accepted him as a good f e l l o w , "a very
C o r i n t h i a n " , to those addressed to Poins i n the conversation
on Hal's concern f o r h i s f a t h e r — are edged w i t h contempt,
weighted w i t h understanding and r e j e c t i o n . That i s why Henry V's
c o l d , " I know thee not o l d man" has roused the controversey i t
has; f o r P a l s t a f f , whatever h i s moral q u a l i f i c a t i o n s , has been
deceived, i s f r u s t r a t e d i n h i s hopes, recognizes h i m s e l f f o r a
dupe.

/
 -192-

b e l l e v e d ; and he knows that he w i l l be mocked at as a

hypocrite i f he confesses that the cause i s h i s concern
for h i s f a t h e r , the k i n g . What Hal sees coming up, as h i s
f a t h e r ' s i l l n e s s continues, i s the n e c e s s i t y to assume
power; and h i s i s o l a t i o n i s oppressing him. Who would be-
l i e v e him i f he s a i d he was concerned f o r h i s father?
Poins confirms Hal's c o n v i c t i o n t h a t any expression of f e e l -
e
ing f o r the k i n g would be met w i t h i n c r e d u l i t y :
Prince Henry: Marry, I t e l l thee, -- i t i s not meet
that I should be sad, now my f a t h e r i s
s i c k : a l b e i t , I could t e l l thee,-- as
to one i t pleases me, f o r f a u l t of a
b e t t e r , t o c a l l my f r i e n d , — I could be
sad, and sad indeed,,too.
Poins: Very hardly upon such a subject.
( I I , i i , k.0 - i|4 )
Hal knows that Poins and h i 3 associates are as much deluded
i n him as a true companion of t h i e v e s , hardened and i n d i f f e r e i i t
to h i s f a t h e r , as the n o b i l i t y are deluded i n him as a hopelessly
wayward youth. The mutual contempt and r i v a l r y of the thieves
and t h e i r acceptance of him as one of them momentarily n e t t l e s
him; but he presses h i s p o i n t :
Prince Henry: By t h i s hand, thou t h i n k * s t me as f a r
i n the d e v i l ' s book as thou and P a l s t a f f
for obduracy and p e r s i s t e n c y : l e t the
end t r y the man. But I t e l l thee my
heart bleeds inwardly that my f a t h e r i s
so sick;and keeping such v i l e company as
thou a r t hath i n reason taken from me a l l
o s t e n t a t i o n of sorrow".
 -193-

Polns: The reason?

Prince Henry: What wouldst thou t h i n k of me, i f I
should weep?
PoinsI I would t h i n k thee a most p r i n c e l y h y p o c r i t e .
( I I , i i , 45 - 53 )
Poins has no h e s i t a t i o n : he has judged the p r i n c e by
appearances as everyone had, and Hal i s pleased t o f i n d him
so t y p i c a l . He applauds Poins:
Prince Henry: I t (that the p r i n c e i s a hypocrite)
would.be every man's thought; and
thou are a blessed f e l l o w to t h i n k
as every man t h i n k s ; never a man's
thought I n the world keeps the
road-way b e t t e r than t h i n e ; every
man would t h i n k me an hypocrite
indeed"•
( I I , i i , 54 - 59)
Here Hal i s proving that he i s aware o f the t r u t h t h a t ,
as M a c h i a v e l l i a f f i r m e d , the vulgar judge by appearance and
are misled i n judgment because they do not know the inner
1 Q

problems of power. •
This scene continues w i t h a v i s i t to the i n n i n Eastcheap,
agreed upon d e l i b e r a t e l y as a means of spying upon P a l s t a f f ,
and of d r i v i n g him t o more of h i s ingenious excuses f o r h i s

18) The P r i n o e , X V I I I , 77.

 -194-

v i l i f i c a t i o n s of the p r i n c e . Episodes such as these are

the embodiment i n drama of the a c t i v i t y of a s i n g u l a r l y
o b j e c t i v e , balanced c r i t i c a l and curious mind, such as
the astute p r i n c e of M a c h i a v e l l i must be assumed to
possess. These London s t r e e t and tavern scenes place i n
f l e s h upon the boards the maturing of a w o r l d l y wise^
i n t e l l i g e n c e , the growth of a man of exceptional mental
capacity. Throughout these scenes the prince appears as
the y o u t h f u l i n t e l l e c t bent upon understanding everything,
i t s self-esteem unaffected by the mistaken impressions
that others derive from the rare independence o f i t s a c t i -
vity. Thejprince, indeed, i s evolving i n t o one of those
unusual p e r s o n a l i t i e s that can be a t home i n a l l company,
and i n command i n a l l assemblies, and that can keep people
guessing by the n o v e l t y and daring of t h e i r a c t i v i t i e s .
He i s , indeed, the p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of the i n d i v i d u a l i s t
making h i s entrance i n the s i x t e e n t h century to a place
of prominence i n p u b l i c l i f e , of whom the despotic prince
was the pre-eminent example.
These scenes are remarkable f o r the e f f e c t they must
have had on Elizabethans as pleas f o r indulgence for their
r u l e r who, by h i s p o s i t i o n was doomed t o be misunderstood
 0
-195-

and misrepresented i n the minds of a l l be.causet.his h i g h

purpose could be known only ' to h i m s e l f . A l l would think
him a h y p o c r i t e i f he confessed h i m s e l f .
D i s c u s s i o n of episodes such as these i s p e r t i n e n t to
the subject of t h i s t h e s i s as they i l l u s t r a t e the imagina-
t i v e i n s i g h t of Shakespeare i n t o the probable workings of
the mind of a p r i n c e such as M a c h i a v e l l i admired and'
the age of Shakespeare r e q u i r e d . These scenes express
d r a m a t i c a l l y the l i k e l y emotional r e a c t i o n s and r e f l e c -
t i o n s of a nobleman c o n s c i o u s l y preparing f o r power r e s t -
i n g upon popular support and s t r i v i n g to organize both him-
s e l f and h i s necessary a s s o c i a t e s to encompass the power
and a u t h o r i t y he aims a t . Hal's a s s o c i a t i o n with P a l s t a f f
and h i s companions i s not i r r e s p o n s i b l e s e l f - i n d u l g e n c e •
but a h i g h l y conscious adventure i n a s s o c i a t i o n , motivated
c h i e f l y by h i s sense of d e s t i n y as h e i r to the throne, and
designed to equip him w i t h a c a p a c i t y to know, judge and
use men — even those whom i n h i s heart he despises — as
Warwick, i n the remarks quoted, surmised.

So f a r the p r i n c e appears as sanguine, y o u t h f u l , w i t t y ,

w a r l i k e , a master of h i s passions, deeply observant and
astute. He has a l s o a profound sense of h i s d i g n i t y and
 -196-

destiny as a r u l e r , and as the h e i r o f h i s f a t h e r .

The p r i n c e ' s v a l o r and Henry I V s d u p l i c i t y com-
bine to defeat the insurgent nobles and,.to b r i n g about
the capture and execution of the leaders. There f o l l o w s
then King Henry's p l a n to l e a d the m i l i t a n t s p i r i t s
abroad i n a crusade, before peace can breed new discon-
tents. Death, however, cuts o f f the k i n g ; and a t once,
the apparently r i o t o u s p r i n c e i s King Henry V.
The wise p r i n c e , according t o M a c h i a v e l l i , respects
the law; governs as much as p o s s i b l e by means of e s t a -
19
blished institutions; and demonstrates h i s wisdom by
h i s choice of counsellors and the r e l a t i o n s h i p he es-
20
t a b l i s h e s between himself and them. With h i s f i r s t
appearance among the o f f i c i a l s and nobles o f . h i s court,
Henry V a l l a y s a l l f e a r s that had grown up among them
as a r e s u l t o f h i s apparently ungovernable youth. H i s
entrance t o them I n the palace i n h i s r e g a l robes i s
easy and ..majestic.
King Henry V: This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
S i t s not so easy on me as you t h i n k . - -
( V, i i , i|4 - 45 )

19) Discourses, I , x, lij.3 - l44i 1* x x v

» 1^2.
20) P r i n c e , x x i i , 1 0 3 , ltilj. - 1 0 5 .
 - 1 9 7 -

he remarks, w e l l knowing that they think him most u n f i t

for i t . He pauses; and then he immediately takes on the
manner and voice of a u t h o r i t y .
Most f e a r f u l of h i s ascent to power i s the Lord
Chief J u s t i c e , l o y a l and severe enforcer of the laws of the
realm under Henry IV, and more than once the agent of the
young prince's d i s c o m f i t u r e . The Chief J u s t i c e , however,
i s not only r e t a i n e d i n o f f i c e by the new k i n g , but i s
p r a i s e d f o r the d i l i g e n c e w i t h which he administered the
law of the land even upon the king's son. He does not
receive the clemency and approval of the new k i n g , though,
before he has been subjected b r i e f l y to the t e r r o r of
the k i n g and compelled t o make an open d e c l a r a t i o n of
what he b e l i e v e s to be the r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s of h i s o f f i c e .
Then he i s assured by Henry V, quoting the o l d k i n g :
Henry V: (quoting Henry IV)
"Happy am I , t h a t have a man so b o l d
That dares do j u s t i c e on my proper son".
( V, i i , 108 - 109)

The Chief J u s t i c e has proven himself to be the i d e a l agent

of the p r i n c e , ai man prepared to take upon himself respon-
s i b i l i t y f o r the most unpopular acts i n the enforcement
of the law.
In t h i s scene Henry V demonstrates h i s respect f o r
 -198-

law, h i s readiness t o perpetuate the o f f i c e of e f f e c t i v e

o f f i c i a l s , and h i s c a p a c i t y to make himself both feared
and l o v e d . H i s o b j e c t , he declares i s t o be a good r u l e r —
Henry V: To mock the expectation of the world,
To f r u s t r a t e prophecies, and t o raze out
Rotten o p i n i o n , who hath w r i t me down
A f t e r my seeming,
( V, i i , 92 - 95 )
He continues: ,m ... _,_ ,.
The txde of blood i n me
Hath proudly flow'd i n v a n i t y t i l l now;
Mow doth i t t u r n and ebb back t o the sea,
Where i t s h a l l mingle with the s t a t e of f l o o d s ,
And flow henceforth i n formal majesty.
Now c a l l we our h i g h court of parliament:
And l e t us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our s t a t e may go
In equal rank w i t h the best-govern'd n a t i o n ;
That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and f a m i l i a r to us;
(V, i i , 95 - 105 )
a.

He i s ^ p r i n c e , s e l f - w i l l e d , independent and s e l f - r e l i a n t ,
but prepared by v i r t u e of understanding and a v i s i o n o f
state power to l e a r n from experience, conform t o law and
admit counsel.
The p r i n c e , before h i s ascent t o the throne, had
proven himself a man capable of hoodwinking and managing
to h i s own ends both the common people and the n o b i l i t y .
The r u t h l e s s n e s s of which he i s capable i n the i n t e r e s t s
 -199-

i"

of h i s s t a t e power i s then-, shown In h i s r e j e c t i o n of

Falstaff. " I know thee not o l d man", h i s i c y and death-
d e a l i n g r e p l y to the o l d s o l d i e r ' s ardent greeting to him
as he, r i d e s from the coronation, i s the essence of c a l c u -
21
l a t i n g state p o l i c y . Inhuman to the u t t e r degree, t r e a -
cherous t o n a t u r a l human f e e l i n g , g i v i n g the l i e to every-
t h i n g he had appeared to be to the improvident k n i g h t ,
t h i s r e p l y i s a l l the proof that i s needed that King Henry V
i s the calmly o b j e c t i v e , c a l c u l a t i n g and astute prince who
w i l l allow nothing to stem h i s drive to what he conceives
to be the well-ordered state. He has been a spy among the
common people to l e a r n the a r t of managing them to h i s
own advantage, which he i d e n t i f i e s w i t h that of the common-
wealth. His measures to ensure that F a l s t a f f and h i s asso-
c i a t e s are provided f o r show j u s t i c e ^ but the p u n i t i v e
a c t i o n that accompanies 'this j u s t i c e i s k i l l i n g . Falstaff
dies.
The opening scenes of Act I of Henry V advance the
k i n g from the ranks of the commons amongst whom i n Henry IV

21) The P r i n c e , XVII, 71: "Let therefore a prince esteeme

yt l i g h t e to be accompted c r u e l l soe he maye haue h i s subiectes
i n f a y t h by f e a r e . For he shalbe thought more gentle by shewinge
a fewe examples of s e v e r i t i e , then through f o o l i s h e p i t t y e
nowrishe d i s o r d e r s , . . . . "
 -200-

he c h i e f l y demonstrated h i s capacity f o r l e a d e r s h i p , to
the r u l i n g ' r a n k s of the n o b i l i t y . He has adopted h i s
f a t h e r ' s plan f o r a m i l i t a r y adventure abroad; but instead
of a crusade, he proposes an attempt to extend h i s empire
i n Prance; not penance but g l o r y and p r e s t i g e are h i s
aim. I t i s an undertaking of the k i n d that M a c h i a v e l l i
advocated f o r a prince newly come to power. ^ Henry takes
great pains t o get the consent of h i s church and l a y supp-
o r t e r s , and to f i n d just cause i n law f o r h i s proposed
campaign, honoring i n t h i s the M a c h i a v e l l i a n observation
that the wise prince should give cause f o r h i s a c t i o n s ,
c o l o r a l l e n t e r p r i s e s w i t h r e l i g i o u s - pomp, and act as f a r
as p o s s i b l e i n accordance with the laws and customs of the
country.
Without f u l l y d e c l a r i n g h i m s e l f , Henry has allowed the
Archbishop of Canterbury to understand that he i s i n d i f f e r e n t
to a law being proposed i n parliament to deprive the church
of considerable l a n d and to subject the church to heavy
t a x a t i o n ^ i n order to provide the k i n g w i t h a f i t t i n g court
23

and to give him an annual income of one thousand pounds.

'22) The P r i n c e , xx, 9 5 .

2 3 ) W i l l i a m Shakespeare,"Henry V", The Works of W i l l i a m
Shakespeare, Oxford, Shakespeare Head Press, 1936", I , i , 1 - 23
and I , i , b& -
 -201-

He has i n s i n u a t e d that he might be open t o a proposal of

some compromise that would give him a i d i n h i s i n v a s i o n of
France. The d i s c u s s i o n of t h i s w i t h the Archbishop, how-
ever, he has put o f f u n t i l the French ambassador i s heard,
and the matter of h i s r i g h t to the French crown by descent
has,been s e t t l e d . Henry has thus made the s a t i s f a c t i o n of
h i s desire t o prove a r i g h t t o the French throne a matter
of most immediate concern t o the p r e l a t e s ; and scene two
of the p l a y i s devoted to the marvellous and i n t r i c a t e argu-
ment of the archbishop i n support of Henry's c l a i m . Henry's
a p p r e c i a t i o n o f the e f f o r t i s p i t h i l y expressed i n h i s dry
i n q u i r y , f o l l o w i n g the long and i n v o l v e d argument:

Henry: May I w i t h r i g h t and conscience make t h i s claim?

( I , i i , 96 )
Nobles and churchmen hasten to take f u l l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y
f o r urging the a c t i o n ; and Henry proclaims a p o l i c y as that
of the counsel of h i s countrymen which he had conceived and
decided upon before h i s f a t h e r ' s death. In this scene
Henry demonstrates the absolute p r i n c e , as M a c h i a v e l l i con-
ceived him, s k i l f u l l y p l a y i n g o f f the c o n f l i c t i n g c l a s s e s
i n h i s kingdom to h i s own advantage.
The v i r t u e s of Henry had already been sung by the
 -202-

&rchbishop of Canterbury:
Canterbury: Hear him but reason i n d i v i n i t y ,
And, a l l - a d m i r i n g , w i t h an inward wish
You would d e s i r e the kind* were made a p r e l a t e ;
Hear him debate of commonwealth a f f a i r s ,
You would say i t hath been a l l - i n - a l l h i s study:
L i s t h i s discourse of war, and you s h a l l hear
A f e a r f u l b a t t l e rendered you i n music:
Turn him t o any cause of p o l i c y ,
The Gordian knot of i t he w i l l unloose,
F a m i l i a r as h i s g a r t e r : —
( I , i , 39 " 48)

And the admiring Archbishop f u r t h e r remarks that the new

k i n g bears himself
So that the a r t and p r a c t i c p a r t of l i f e
Must be the m i s t r e s s to t h i s t h e o r i c :
( I , i , 52 - 53 )

Henry V, the m a r t i a l p r i n c e , champion of an expanding

empire, noble s e r v i t o r of the church and observer of the
laws, but i n h i m s e l f law-giver and c h i e f c o u n s e l l o r , i s
v i g i l a n t f o r the s a f e t y of h i m s e l f and f o r the defence of
his kingdom while he i s away at war. Act I I , scene i i ,
presents l a y nobles marvelling at the b r i l l i a n c e of the
k i n g , as the two churchmen d i d i n Act I . Now the Dukes of
Bedford and Exeter, and the E a r l of Westmoreland d i s c u s s
the king's apparent unconcern about-the conspiracy of
Lord Scroop, the E a r l of Cambridge and S i r Thomas Grey to
k i l l the k i n g at Hampton i n the i n t e r e s t of the French.
 -203-

They are wondering what the k i n g intends by going forward

w i t h h i s preparations to leave f o r Prance, when, asj]3edford
remarks -
Bedford: The k i n g hath note'of a l l they (the-
conspirators) i n t e n d ,
By i n t e r c e p t i o n which they dream not o f .
( I I , 11, 6 - 7 )
King Henry, l i k e the astute M a c h i a v e l l i a n prince he i s ,
has the s i t u a t i o n w e l l i n hand; and i n the council-chamber
i n Southampton he stages h i s exposure of the g u i l t y noble-
men. His technique i s to dissemble w i t h them and l e a d
them on w i t h appearances of favor and t r u s t to grow too
confident and to condemn themselves out of t h e i r own
mouths i n t h e i r indictment of others, and i n ' t h e i r a n t i c i -
p a t i o n of f u r t h e r promotions; and then to expose them i n
the very r e c e i p t of t h e i r new commissions. He then hands
them over to the law f o r punishment. This i s the method
of f o r e s t a l l i n g conspirators observed and recommended by
M a c h i a v e l l i , and the r e c o g n i t i o n of the law as the i n s t r u -
ment of s t a t e s e c u r i t y a l s o honors the advice of M a c h i a v e l l i .
Henry says:
King Henry: ....we our kingdom's safety must so tender
Whose r u i n you have sought, t h a t t o her laws
We do d e l i v e r you..•
( I I , i i , 174 - 176 )
Henry V here acts as the c h i e f magistrate of the s t a t e ,
 -204-

i n i t i a t i n g and d i r e c t i n g the exposure of the p l o t , l a y i n g

the charge and proposing sentence, but honoring the law
of the land as the instrument of punishment, as Machia-
v e l l i would have advocated.
As a s o l d i e r , which, he confesses, i s "A name t h a t ,
i n my thoughts becomes me b e s t " , Henry V f u l l y accepts a l l
the i m p l i c a t i o n s of t e r r o r , b r u t a l i t y and violence that
war i m p l i e s ; and, d e f i e d , he i s as ready as Tamburlane
to threaten p i l l a g e and v i o l e n c e . He i s , however, the
general who i s notable f o r j u s t i ce rather than f o r s e v e r i t y ,
combining a c a p a c i t y f o r ruthlessness w i t h a p o l i t i c pre-
ference f o r r e s t r a i n t , as h i s readiness t o preserve
H a r f l e u r from the l o o t i n g he threatened, and h i s severe
measures against freebobting by h i s s o l d i e r s show. He
orders d i s c i p l i n e and mercy toward the c i t i z e n s when
H a r f l e u r f i n a l l y surrenders; and under h i s general order
against robbing and l o o t i n g , he has Bardolph hanged f o r
robbing a church. He i s the v a l i a n t and sober general ex-
t o l l e d by M a c h i a v e l l i .
George Ian Duthie sees i n the d r a s t i c punishment of
Bardolph evidence of the p o l i t i c reasoning of Henry V:
"Shakespeare seems to s a y t h a t ' p o l i c y ' i s
necessary i n a k i n g ; but the i d e a l k i n g ,
 -205-

while using ' p o l i c y when necessary, i s ,

1

nevertheless, i n general c h a r a c t e r i z e d by a
f r a n k e r , a more open, a more warm-hearted
d i s p o s i t i o n than Henry IV had". 2l\.
Scenes i i i , i v , v i , v i i and v i i i of Act IV are de-
signed to implant Henry V i n the minds of the Elizabethans
as the v a l i a n t and popular leader of the E n g l i s h , who i s
profoundly aware of the p e r s o n a l i t y of h i s men, and who
respects t h e i r s i m p l i c i t y and t h e i r courage. His intimate
companionship w i t h men of the ranks and of the l e s s e r
o f f i c e r c l a s s .— L l u e l l a n , Gower, Michael Williams -- i s
shown i n scenes cut with the sharpness and b r i l l i a n c e of
gems; and scenes w i t h Exeter, Bedford, Warwiick and
Gloucester show the respect and warm f r i e n d s h i p he enjoys
among the nobles•
Henry V i s indeed that p r i n c e sought by M a c h i a v e l l i ,
who combined v a l o r w i t h i n g e n u i t y , and by example and
s k i l l won the r e s p e c t f u l adherence of the n o b i l i t y and
the e n t h u s i a s t i c l o y a l t y of the commons, s e a l i n g i n h i s
person and the i n s t i t u t i o n s he favored the u n i t y o f the
commonwealth.

Although t h i s study of true Machiavellianism makes no

2lj.) George Ian Duthie, Shakespeare, London, Hutchinson's

U n i v e r s i t y L i b r a r y , 1 9 5 l » p. llp»
 206

fcUl-ni JO
^be e x h a u s t i v e , i t may be not without i n t e r e s t to examine f o r
evidence of Shakespeare's a p p r e c i a t i o n of M a c h i a v e l l i a n
character one of h i s plays that l i e s outside those dealing
w i t h E n g l i s h h i s t o r y - Coriplanus.
Coriolanus dramatizes the l e s s o n of p o l i c y relevant
to t h i s study i n scene two of act three. Coriolanus i n
h i s home, surrounded by the p a t r i c i a n s and attended by
h i s mother, stubbornly refuses to change h i s a t t i t u d e of
open contempt f o r the people of Rome c r to appear humbly
before them asking them f o r t h e i r vote. He i s f r a n k l y
and n a i v e l y astounded that h i s mother does not agree w i t h
him; and he alone, of a l l the p a t r i c i a n s , f a i l s to see her
wisdom. Although h i s mother, Volumnia, i s no l e s s contem-
ptuous of the populace than he i s , she has a M a c h i a v e l l i a n
i n t e l l i g e n c e as w e l l as courage; she has, that i s , an
acute understanding of the r e a l i t i e s of l i f e , as w e l l as
pride i n her p o s i t i o n as a p a t r i c i a n . Her opening words
i n t h i s scene revealjher p o l i t i c a l i n s i g h t . In r e p l y to
Coriolanus' reproach of her f o r disapproving of h i s
behaviour, she c r i e s :
Voluijuiia: 0, s i r , s i r , s i r ,
I would have you put your power w e l l on,
Before you had worn i t out.
( I I I , i i , 17 - 19 ) ^ 2

25) Shakespeare, Works, Oxford, 1938

 -207-

She argues f o r p o l i c y as defended by M a c h i a v e l l i ,

Coriolanus should have r e s t r a i n e d h i s nature, she says,
when he was i n no p o s i t i o n to impose h i s w i l l ; and he
should have awaited the moment when the power of the
consulship had been f u l l y confirmed to enforce h i s p o l i c y .
As Coriolanus remains s u r l y , she gives him as good as he
o f f e r s i n sharpness, the p a t r i c i a n s supporting her:
Volumnia: Pray, be c o u n s e l l ' d :
I have a heart as l i t t l e apt as yours,
But yet a b r a i n that leads:: my use of anger
To b e t t e r vantage.
( I I I , i i , 28 - 30 )
Coriolanus, outnumbered, and faced w i t h h i s mother's
disapproval, i s cowed, and asks what he should do. He i s
t o l d he must apologise to the tribunes and the people. He
s h r i n k s , and Volumnia reminds him:
Volumnia: You are too absolute;
Though t h s r e i n you can never be too noble,
But when extrerrffities speak. I have heard you
say,
Honour and p o l i c y , l i k e unsever'd f r i e n d s ,
I the war do grow together; grant t h a t ,
1

and t e l l me
In peace what each of them by t h other l o s e ,
1

That they combine not there.

( I I I , i i , 39 - 4 5 )
She continues the argument of p o l i c y :
Volumnia.: I f i t be honour i n your wars to seem
The same you are not, — which, f o r your best ends,
You adopt your p o l i c y , —how i s i t l e s s or wdrse,
That i t s h a l l hold companionship i n peace
With honour, as i n war; since that to both
I t stands i n l i k e request?
( I I I , i i , 52 - 57 )
 -208-

Coriolanus f a i l s to see the connection, and Volumnia

p a t i e n t l y t e l l s him why he must dissemble:
Volumnia: Because that now i t l i e s you on to speak
To the people; not by your own i n s t r u c t i o n ,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
But w i t h such words that are but roted i n
Your tongue, though but bastards, and s y l l a b l e s
Of no allowance to your bosom's t r u t h .
Now, t h i s no more dishonours you at a l l
Than to take i n a town w i t h gentle words,
What e l s e w o u l d p u t you to your f o r t u n e , and
The hazards of much bloodo
I would dissemble w i t h my nature, where
My fortunes and my f r i e n d s at stake required
I should do so i n honour: I am i n t h i s ,
Your w i f e , your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you w i l l r a t h e r show our general l o u t s
How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of t h e i r l o v e s , and safeguard
Of what that want might r u i n .
( I I I , i i , 51 - 68 )

No c l e a r e r , more l o g i c a l or more succinct summary of

the argument of M a c h i a v e l l i a n p o l i c y could be made. Coriolanus,
Volumnia remihds.hlm,, i s a noble, one of the c l a s s that
commands, or w i l l s to command. He i s now dealing w i t h those
whose subservience, i f not l o v e , must at a l l cost be r e t a i n e d .
The moment i s not one when Coriolanus can a f f o r d to be him-
s e l f , because the cost of d i s p l a y i n g himself i n a l l h i s
pride and scorn of the populace i s d i s a s t e r to himself,
his f a m i l y and a l l h i s f r i e n d s ; therefore, he must use
strategy, as he does before a beleaguered town, the
 -209-

strength of which would compel him t o r e s o r t t o s t r a t a -

gem rather than f r o n t a l a t t a c k , i f he would master i t .
The moment i s one i n which dissembling does honour t o
oneself because i t wins safety and s e c u r i t y f o r oneself
and a l l one cherishes. F i n a l l y , Volumnia makes c l e a r
with some scorn that she would r a t h e r not b e l i e v e that
c s
her son i s so S h i l d i s h as to wi$h t o domineer b r i e f l y
over l o u t s by frowning, than t o save a l l he loves from
r u i n by pretending h u m i l i t y f o r a moment.
Menenius' exclamation, "Noble lady l" -voices the
h e a r t f e l t a p p r e c i a t i o n and r e l i e f of the n o b i l i t y upon -
hearing so c l e a r a statement of t h e i r p o s i t i o n . Doubtful
of her son's understanding, Volumnia goes on to i n t e r p r e t
her advice i n a v i v i d word p i c t u r e of the prince dissem-
b l i n g before the commons i n order t o r e t a i n h i s powers
and p r i v i l e g e s :
Volumnia:
I p r i t h e e now, my son,
Go t o them, w i t h t h i s bonnet i n they hand;
And thus f a r having s t r e t c h t i t , — here
be w i t h them,—
Thy knee bussing the stones, — f o r i n such
business
A c t i o n i s eloquence, and the eyes of t h '
ignorant
More learned than the ears, — waving thy
K'Sead,
Which o f t e n , thus, c o r r e c t i n g thy stout heart,
Now humble as the r i p e s t mulberry
That w i l l not h o l d the handling, — or say t o them,
 -210-

Thou are t h e i r s o l d i e r , and, being bred i n

broils,
Hast not the s o f t way which, thou dost confess,
Were f i t f o r thee to use, as they to c l a i m ,
I n asking t h e i r good l o v e s ; but thou w i l t frame
Thyself, f o r s o o t h , h e r e a f t e r t h e i r s , so f a r
As thou hast power and person*
( I I I , i i , 72 - 86 )
Chapter eighteen of The Prince does not place the case
more p l a i n l y .
 -211-

Conclusion

When one compares the expression of p o l i t i c a l t r u t h

through the medium of the drama and through s c i e n t i f i c
a n a l y s i s , one must estimate the use of language w i t h care.
The s c i e n t i f i c analyst examines the events and the persons
as an outside observer, and explains what he sees i n
terms of o b j e c t i v e , i f not i m p a r t i a l , c r i t i c i s m . He
describes and analyses the e x t e r n a l s o c i a l e f f e c t s of
the actions of h i s heroes. His language i s f r e e of the
expressions native to m o r a l i t y and sentiment, which voice
the s u b j e c t i v e reactions of people, w i t h which he i s not
concerned. Nevertheless, i t need not be assumed that the
analyst Is incapable of a p p r e c i a t i n g these aspects of
human experience. His theme, however, i s not f e e l i n g s ,
subjective motive or a s p i r a t i o n , but o b j e c t i v e purpose
and observed a c t i v i t y w i t h t h e i r consequences upon the
m a t e r i a l status of a l l a f f e c t e d by those a c t i o n s , i n c l u -
ding the status of the i n i t i a t o r of the actions..

M a c h i a v e l l i d i d not ponder the inner c o n f l i c t or secret

hopes of Cesare Borgia, O l i v e r o t t o da Permo, Alexander,
 -212-

Perdinand of Aragon, Moses, Romulus, Agathocles, or the

f e e l i n g s of the many others whose p o l i t i c a l actions he
weighs, because h i s object i n d i s c u s s i n g them was not the
deeper understanding of the human heart, but the s o l u t i o n
of the problem of n a t i o n a l u n i t y and s e c u r i t y i n I t a l y .
That h i s a p p r e c i a t i o n of l i f e was not e x c l u s i v e l y that
revealed i n The Prince and The Discourses i s t e s t i f i e d to
by the v a r i e t y of other l i t e r a r y forms t o which he turned
h i s hand not without proof of s u b t l e t y and i n s i g h t of a
different kind. H i s great achievement, however, was' i n
the f i e l d of p o l i t i c a l thought, probably because i t was i n
p o l i t i c a l a c t i v i t y that he spent the best years of h i s
l i f e , and because the subject which dominated h i s heart
and mind was the p l i g h t of d i v i d e d and invaded I t a l y ,
h i s concern f o r the r e t u r n to h i s country o f something o f
the greatness of ancient Rome.
The dramatist, u n l i k e the a n a l y s t , i s caught up i n
a surging preoccupation w i t h the human p e r s o n a l i t y , w i t h
the self-consciousness and i n d i v i d u a l i t y of the a c t o r ,
the doer, and the r e l a t i o n s h i p between h i s d e l i b e r a t e and
h i s i n v o l u n t a r y , or socially-imposed, a c t i v i t y . What image
does the doer have of himself as he performs h i s part i n
 -213-

l i f e , what f e e l i n g s does he -undergo, the dramatist asks.

The success o f the dramatist i s seen i n the s u b t l e t y
and completeness w i t h which he exposes the i n t e r a c t i o n of
p e r s o n a l i t y and environment i n promoting a c t i o n , and i n
b r i n g i n g about a l t e r a t i o n i n p e r s o n a l i t i e s and social
relationships. The language of the dramatist i s that
native to m o r a l i t y and sentiment, to the expression of
hopes and fears and aims p e c u l i a r to the i n d i v i d u a l ; and
the a c t i o n of the players and r e s o l u t i o n of the p l o t e s t a -
b l i s h e s the r e l a t i o n s h i p of the ideas of I n d i v i d u a l s ex-
pressed i n the dialogue to s o c i a l and objective t r u t h .
Drama, considered i n r e l a t i o n to i d e a , then, f l e s h e s
thought, re-incarnates, as i t were, the abstract g e n e r a l i -
z a t i o n i n the m a t e r i a l form from which i t derived. Drama
i s impossible without the c r e a t i o n of l i f e - l i k e people,
without c r e d i b l e human a c t i o n , and i s empty without
thought.
In the study of drama f o r the purpose of searching
out the l i n e of thought that dominates i t , or which i t
betrays, dialogue and a c t i o n must be considered jointly,
f o r the r e a l character of the actor i s not n e c e s s a r i l y
•that of the sentiment he expresses; and the point of view
 -21k-

that dominates the p l a y may be revealed i n the r e s o l u t i o n

of the a c t i o n as much as, or even more than i t i s i n the
dialogue, the point of view of which may express self-
delusion or deception,
M a c h i a v e l l i s t r i p p e d p o l i t i c a l f i g u r e s of t h e i r pro-
f e s s i o n s of f a i t h , moral sentiments and personal p r e d i l e c -
t i o n s to discuss t h e i r success or f a i l u r e , a s builders of
n a t i o n a l s t a t e power. The conclusions he came t o , i t
w i l l be seen by earnest examination of h i s work, express
the essence of the p o l i t i c a l p r a c t i c e of the era i n which
he l i v e d ; and the dramatists who most a c c u r a t e l y r e i n c a r n -
ated the p o l i t i c s of t h e i r time demonstrated i n e v i t a b l y
i n t h e i r p o l i t i c a l characters .and the r e s o l u t i o n of the
a c t i o n of t h e i r h i s t o r i c a l plays the sway of the p o l i t i c a l
p r i n c i p l e s he expounded.
The M a c h i a v e l l i a n of the Marlovian romantic tradition^
tends to be stereotyped and s t a t i c , because he i s a symbol
r a t h e r than a r e a l being. He i s the bogey who haunted
the r u l e r of every feudal p r i n c i p a l i t y , each of whom had
f o r h i s d e v i l the prince who based h i s strength on the
people rather than on the n o b i l i t y , on a b i l i t y rather than
on blood. Fear d i s t o r t e d t h i s " M a c h i a v e l l i a n " and endowed
 -215-

him w i t h d i a b o l i c a l powers and i n t e n t i o n s . Although he

became the symbol of d i s r u p t i v e and d e s t r u c t i v e ambition
to supporters of both feudal monarchists and renaissance
a b s o l u t i s t s i n England, h i s o u t l i n e was o r i g i n a l l y framed
by the pamphleteers and spokesmen f o r medieval C a t h o l i c
r e a c t i o n and i n o p p o s i t i o n to the trends toward n a t i o n a l -
ism.
The true prince of the renaissance, the b u i l d e r of
the n a t i o n a l state that was destined t o supersede the
feudal p r i n c i p a l i t y — the prince sought by M a c h i a v e l l i
and r e a l i z e d in'the Tudors of England -- was dramatized
pre-eminently by Shakespeare i n h i s h i s t o r i c a l p l a y s .
Richard, Duke of York, i s the courageous, subtle and
scheming prince who by perseverence and a b i l i t y i n war
and i n t r i g u e wins support and creates occasion whereby
he may a t t a i n power. Henry Bolingbroke of Hereford and
Lancaster, afterward Henry IV, demonstrates i n h i s career
the combination of opportunity and shrewd capacity to
take advantage of opportunity that makes p o s s i b l e the
r e a l i z a t i o n of a new dynasty. I n Henry V Shakespeare
presents the p o l i t i c p r i n c e i n h e r o i c proportions.
 -216-

Drawn i n e s s e n t i a l conformity t o the p r i n c i p l e s that

guided M a c h i a v e l l i i n h i s d e l i n e a t i o n of the p r i n c e ,
Henry V i s the absolute r u l e r through whose v i s i o n and
energy the feudal p r i n c i p a l i t i e s were to be subjected
and fused i n t o the n a t i o n a l state and the l e g i s l a t i v e
and i n s t i t u t i o n a l groundwork l a i d upon which empire and
d e m o c r a c y were d e s t i n e d to flourish. He is the true
Machiavellian.'

oOOOo
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