AMONG some warm admirers of Shakespeare it has not been unusual to depreciate his learning for the purpose of exalting his genius. It is thought that intuition and inborn power of mind accomplished for him what others, less favoured by the inspiration of the all-directing Wisdom, could scarcely effect by their utmost and life-patient labours. The worlds of nature and of art were spread before him, and out of the materials, with perfect ease, he fashioned new creations, calling into existence forms of beauty and grace, and investing them at will with the rare attributes of poetic fancy.

On the very surface, however, of Shakespeare’s writings, in the subjects of his dramas and in the structure of their respective plots, though we may not find a perfectly accurate scholarship, we have ample evidence that the choicest literature of his native land, and, through translations at least, the ample stores of Greece and of Italy were open to his mind. Whether his scenes be the plains of Troy, the river of Egypt, the walls of Athens, or the capitol of Rome, his learning is amply sufficient for the occasion; and though the critic may detect incongruities and errors,^[64] they are probably not greater than those which many a finished scholar falls into when he ventures to describe the features of countries and cities which he has not actually visited. The heroes and heroines of pagan mythology and pagan history, the veritable actors in ancient times of the world’s great drama,—or the more unreal characters of fairy land, of the weird sisterhood, and of the wizard fraternity,—these all stand before us instinct with life.^[65] And from the old legends of Venice, of Padua and Verona,—from the traditionary lore of England, of Denmark, and of Scotland,—or from the more truth-like delineations of his strictly historical plays, we may of a certainty gather, that his reading was of wide extent, and that with a student’s industry he made it subservient to the illustration and faithfulness of poetic thought.

Trusting, as we may do in a very high degree, to Douce’s Illustrations of Shakspeare and of Ancient Manners (2 vols., London, 1807), or to the still more elaborate and erudite work of Dr. Nathan Drake, Shakspeare and his Times (2 vols., 4to, London, 1817), we need not hesitate at resting on Mr. Capel Lofft’s conclusion, that Shakespeare possessed “a very reasonable portion of Latin; he was not wholly ignorant of Greek; he had a knowledge of French, so as to read it with ease; and I believe not less of the Italian. He was habitually conversant with the chronicles of his country. He lived with wise and highly cultivated men, with Jonson, Essex, and Southampton, in familiar friendship.” (See Drake, vol. i. pp. 32, 33, note.) And again, “It is not easy, with due attention to his poems, to doubt of his having acquired, when a boy, no ordinary facility in the classic language of Rome; though his knowledge of it might be small, comparatively, to the knowledge of that great and indefatigable scholar, Ben Jonson.”

Dr. Drake and Mr. Capel Lofft differ in opinion, though not very widely, as to the extent of Shakespeare’s knowledge of Italian literature. The latter declares, “My impression is, that Shakespeare was not unacquainted with the most popular authors in Italian prose, and that his ear had listened to the enchanting tones of Petrarca, and some others of their great poets.” And the former affirms, that “From the evidence which his genius and his works afford, his acquaintance with the French and Italian languages was not merely confined to the picking up a familiar phrase or two from the conversation or writings of others, but that he had actually commenced, and at an early period too, the study of these languages, though, from his situation, and the circumstances of his life, he had neither the means, nor the opportunity, of cultivating them to any considerable extent.” (See Drake, vol. i. pp. 54, note, and 57, 58.)

Now the Emblem-writers of the sixteenth century, and previously, made use chiefly of the Latin, Italian, and French languages. Of the Emblem-books in Spanish, German, Flemish, Dutch, and English, only the last would be available for Shakespeare’s benefit, except for the suggestions which the engravings and woodcuts might supply. It is then well for us to understand that his attainments with respect to language were sufficient to enable him to study this branch of literature, which before his day, and in his day, was so widely spread through all the more civilized countries of Europe. He possessed the mental apparatus which gave him power, should inclination or fortune lead him there, to cultivate the viridiaria, the pleasant blooming gardens of emblem, device, and symbol.

Even if he had not been able to read the Emblem writers in their original languages, undoubtedly he would meet with their works in the society in which he moved and among the learned of his native land. As we have seen, he was in familiar friendship with the Earl of Essex. To that nobleman Willet, in 1598, had dedicated his Sacred Emblems. Of men of Devereux’s stamp, several had become acquainted with the Emblem Literature. To his rival, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, Whitney devoted the Choice of Emblemes, 1586; in 1580, Beza had honoured the young James of Scotland with the foremost place in his Portraits of Illustrious Men, to which a set of Emblems were appended; Sir Philip Sidney, during his journey on the continent, 1571–1575, became acquainted with the works of the Italian emblematist, Ruscelli; and as early as 1549, it was “to the very illustrious Prince James earl of Arran in Scotland,” that “Barptolemy Aneau” commended his French version of Alciat’s classic stanzas.

And were it not a fact, as we can show it to be, that Shakespeare quotes the very mottoes and describes the very drawings which the Emblem-books contain, we might, from his highly cultivated taste in other respects, not unreasonably conclude that he must both have known them and have used them. His information and exquisite judgment extended to works of highest art,—to sculpture, painting, and music, as well as to literature. There is, perhaps, no description of statuary extant so admirable for its truth and beauty as the lines quoted by Drake, p. 617, from the Winter’s Tale,^[66] “where Paulina unveils to Leontes the supposed statue of Hermione.”

This exquisite piece of statuary is ascribed by Shakespeare (Winter’s Tale, act v. sc. 2, l. 8, vol. iii. p. 420) to “that rare Italian master Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly is he her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that they say one would speak to her, and stand in hope of answer.”

According to Kugler’s “Geschichte der Malerei,”—History of Painting (Berlin, 1847, vol. i. p. 641),—Julio Romano was one of the most renowned of Raphael’s scholars, born about 1492, and dying in 1546. “Giulio war ein Künstler von rüstigem, lebendig, bewegtem, keckem Geiste, begabt mit einer Leichtigkeit der Hand, welche den kühnen und rastlosen Bildern seiner Phantasie überall Leben und Dasein zu geben wusste.”^[68]

His earlier works are to be found at Rome, Genoa, and Dresden. Soon after Raphael’s death he was employed in Mantua both as an architect and a painter; and here exist some of his choice productions, as the Hunting by Diana, the frescoes of the Trojan War, the histories of Psyche, and other Love-tales of the gods. Pictures by him are scattered over Europe,—some at Venice, some in the sacristy of St. Peter’s, and in other places in Rome; some in the Louvre, and some in the different collections of England,^[69] as the Jupiter among the Nymphs and Corybantes.

Whether any of his works were in England during the reign of Elizabeth, we cannot affirm positively; but as there were “sixteen by Julio Romano” in the fine collection of paintings at Whitehall, made, or, rather, increased by Charles I., of which Henry VIII. had formed the nucleus, it is very probable there were in England some by that master so early as the writing of the Winter’s Tale, or even before, in which, as we have seen, he is expressly named. It may therefore be reasonably conjectured that in the statue of Hermione Shakespeare has accurately described some figure which he had seen in one of Julio Romano’s paintings.

The same rare appreciation of the beautiful appears in the Cymbeline, act ii. sc. 4, lines 68–74, 81–85, 87–91, vol. ix. pp. 207, 208, where the poet describes the adornments of Imogen’s chamber:—

So, in the Taming of the Shrew, act ii. sc. 1, lines 338–348, vol. iii. p. 45, Gremio enumerates the furniture of his house in Padua:—

And Hamlet, when he contrasts his father and his uncle, act iii. sc. 4, lines 55–62, vol. viii. p. 111, what a force of artistic skill does he not display! It is indeed a poet’s description, but it has all the power and reality of a most finished picture. The very form and features are presented, as if some limner, a perfect master of his pencil, had portrayed and coloured them:—

In the Merchant of Venice, too, act iii. sc. 2, lines 115–128, vol. ii. p. 328, when Bassanio opens the leaden casket and discovers the portrait of Portia, who but one endowed with a painter’s inspiration could speak of it as Shakespeare does!—

Such power of estimating artistic skill authorises the supposition that Shakespeare himself had made the painter’s art a subject of more than accidental study; else whence such expressions as those which in the Antony, act ii. sc. 2, lines 201–209, vol. ix. p. 38, are applied to Cleopatra?—

Or, even when sportively, in Twelfth Night, act i. sc. 5, lines 214–230, vol. iii. p. 240, Olivia replies to Viola’s request, “Good Madam, let me see your face,”—is it not quite in an artist’s or an amateur’s style that the answer is given? “We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is’t not well done?” [Unveiling.

Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labelled to my will: as, item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth.”

But from certain lines in the Taming of the Shrew (Induction, sc. 2, lines 47–58), it is evident that Shakespeare had seen either some of the mythological pictures by Titian, or engravings from them, or from similar subjects. Born in 1477, and dying in 1576, in his ninety-ninth year, the great Italian artist was contemporary with a long series of illustrious men, and his fame and works had shone far beyond their native sky. Our distant and then but partially civilised England awoke to a perception of their beauties, and though few—if any—of Titian’s paintings so early found a domicile in this country, yet pictures were, we are assured,^[71] “a frequent decoration in the rooms of the wealthy.” Shakespeare even represents the Countess of Auvergne, 1 Henry VI., act ii. sc. 3, lines 36, 37, vol. v. p. 33, as saying to Talbot,—

The formation of a royal gallery, or collection of paintings, had engaged the care of Henry VIII.; and the British nobility at the time of his daughter Elizabeth’s reign, “deeply read in classical learning, familiar with the literature of Italy, and polished by foreign travel,” “were well qualified to appreciate and cultivate the true principles of taste.”

Titian, as is well known, “displayed a singular mastery in the representation of nude womanly forms, and in this the witchery of his colouring is manifested with fullest power.”^[72] Many instances of this are to be found in his works. Two are presented by the renowned Venus-figures at Florence, and by the beautiful Danae at Naples. The Cambridge gallery contains the Venus in whose form the Princess Eboli is said to have been portrayed, playing the lute, and having Philip of Spain seated at her side. In the Bridgewater gallery are two representations of Diana in the bath,—the one having the story of Actæon, and the other discovering the guilt of Calisto; and in the National Gallery are a Bacchus and Ariadne, and also a good copy, from the original at Madrid, of Venus striving to hold back Adonis from the chase. To these we may add the Arming of Cupid, in the Borghese palace at Rome, in which he quietly permits Venus to bind his eyes, while another Cupid whispering leans on her shoulder, and two Graces bring forward quivers and bows.

It is to such a School of Painting, or to such a master of his art, that Shakespeare alludes, when, in the Induction scene to the Taming of the Shrew, Christopher Sly is served and waited on as a lord:—

Among Shakespeare’s gifts was also the power to appreciate the charms of melody and song. Their influence he felt, and their effect he most eloquently describes. He speaks of them with a sweetness, a gentleness, and force which must have had counterparts in his own nature. As in the Midsummer Night’s Dream, act ii. sc. 1, line 148, vol. ii. p. 215, when Oberon bids Puck to come to her,—

And again, in the Merchant of Venice, act v. sc. 1, lines 2 and 54, vol. ii. p. 360, how exquisite the description!—

Lorenzo’s discourse to Jessica is such as only a passion-warmed genius could conceive and utter:—

And Ferdinand, in the Tempest, act i. sc. 2, l. 387, vol. i, p. 20, after listening to Ariel’s song, “Come unto these yellow sands,” thus testifies to its power:—

Thus, from his sufficient command over the requisite languages, from his diligent reading in the literature of his country, translated as well as original, from his opportunities of frequent converse with the cultivated minds of his age, and still more from what we have shown him to have possessed,—accurate taste and both an intelligent and a warm appreciation of the principles and beauties of Imitative Art,—we conclude that Shakespeare found it a study congenial to his spirit and powers, to examine and apply, what was both popular and learned in its day,—the illustrations, by the graver’s art and the poet’s pen, of the proverbial wisdom which constitutes almost the essence of the Emblematical writers of the sixteenth century. To him, as to others, their works would be sources of interest and amusement; and even in hours of idleness many a sentiment would be gathered up to be afterwards almost unconsciously assimilated for the mind’s nurture and growth.

When we maintain that Shakespeare not unfrequently made use of the Emblem writers, we do not mean to imply that he was generally a direct copyist from them. This is seldom the case. But a word, a phrase, or an allusion, sufficiently demonstrates whence particular thoughts have been derived, and how they have been coloured and clothed. They have been gathered as flowers in a country-walk are gathered—one from this hedge-side, another from that, and a third from among the standing corn, and others from the margin of some murmuring stream; but all have their natural beauty heightened by the skill with which they are blended so as to impart gracefulness to the whole. Flora’s gems they may be, but the enwoven coronal borrows its chief charm from the artistic power and fitness with which its parts are arranged: break the thread, or cut the string with which Genius has bound them together, and they fall into inextricable confusion—a mass of disorder—no longer a pride and a joy: but let them remain, as a most excellent skill has placed them, and for ever could we gaze on their loveliness. A matchless beauty has been achieved, and all the more do we value it, because upon it there is also stamped eternal youth.