Shakespearean Tragedy | Page 8

conflict
between them, is the conflict within one of them. And so it is, though
not in the same degree, with Antony and Cleopatra and even with
_Othello_; and, in fact, in a certain measure, it is so with nearly all the
tragedies. There is an outward conflict of persons and groups, there is
also a conflict of forces in the hero's soul; and even in Julius Caesar
and Macbeth the interest of the former can hardly be said to exceed that
of the latter.
The truth is, that the type of tragedy in which the hero opposes to a
hostile force an undivided soul, is not the Shakespearean type. The
souls of those who contend with the hero may be thus undivided; they
generally are; but, as a rule, the hero, though he pursues his fated way,
is, at least at some point in the action, and sometimes at many, torn by
an inward struggle; and it is frequently at such points that Shakespeare
shows his most extraordinary power. If further we compare the earlier
tragedies with the later, we find that it is in the latter, the maturest
works, that this inward struggle is most emphasised. In the last of them,
Coriolanus, its interest completely eclipses towards the close of the
play that of the outward conflict. Romeo and Juliet, _Richard III._,
_Richard II._, where the hero contends with an outward force, but
comparatively little with himself, are all early plays.
If we are to include the outer and the inner struggle in a conception
more definite than that of conflict in general, we must employ some
such phrase as 'spiritual force.' This will mean whatever forces act in
the human spirit, whether good or evil, whether personal passion or
impersonal principle; doubts, desires, scruples, ideas--whatever can
animate, shake, possess, and drive a man's soul. In a Shakespearean
tragedy some such forces are shown in conflict. They are shown acting
in men and generating strife between them. They are also shown, less
universally, but quite as characteristically, generating disturbance and
even conflict in the soul of the hero. Treasonous ambition in Macbeth
collides with loyalty and patriotism in Macduff and Malcolm: here is

the outward conflict. But these powers or principles equally collide in
the soul of Macbeth himself: here is the inner. And neither by itself
could make the tragedy.[8]
We shall see later the importance of this idea. Here we need only
observe that the notion of tragedy as a conflict emphasises the fact that
action is the centre of the story, while the concentration of interest, in
the greater plays, on the inward struggle emphasises the fact that this
action is essentially the expression of character.
3
Let us turn now from the 'action' to the central figure in it; and,
ignoring the characteristics which distinguish the heroes from one
another, let us ask whether they have any common qualities which
appear to be essential to the tragic effect.
One they certainly have. They are exceptional beings. We have seen
already that the hero, with Shakespeare, is a person of high degree or of
public importance, and that his actions or sufferings are of an unusual
kind. But this is not all. His nature also is exceptional, and generally
raises him in some respect much above the average level of humanity.
This does not mean that he is an eccentric or a paragon. Shakespeare
never drew monstrosities of virtue; some of his heroes are far from
being 'good'; and if he drew eccentrics he gave them a subordinate
position in the plot. His tragic characters are made of the stuff we find
within ourselves and within the persons who surround them. But, by an
intensification of the life which they share with others, they are raised
above them; and the greatest are raised so far that, if we fully realise all
that is implied in their words and actions, we become conscious that in
real life we have known scarcely any one resembling them. Some, like
Hamlet and Cleopatra, have genius. Others, like Othello, Lear, Macbeth,
Coriolanus, are built on the grand scale; and desire, passion, or will
attains in them a terrible force. In almost all we observe a marked
one-sidedness, a predisposition in some particular direction; a total
incapacity, in certain circumstances, of resisting the force which draws
in this direction; a fatal tendency to identify the whole being with one
interest, object, passion, or habit of mind. This, it would seem, is, for

Shakespeare, the fundamental tragic trait. It is present in his early
heroes, Romeo and Richard II., infatuated men, who otherwise rise
comparatively little above the ordinary level. It is a fatal gift, but it
carries with it a touch of greatness; and when there is joined to it
nobility of mind,