The Transmigration of the Crocodile

Abstract

ERHAPS the greatest tribute that can be paid to Shakespeare's Cleopatra is that Antony was not last conquest. The army of Shakespearian critics, past and present, includes a volunteer battalion of admirers large enough to rival the throng enthralled by La Belle Dame Sans Merci. The deification of Cleopatra originated in the romantic criticism of the nineteenth century, and, although the romantic point of view has been generally abandoned in our own century, paradoxically the cult has continued to grow in influence and popularity. It is amusing to find that even the realistic of modern critics tacitly accept the basic assumptions of the romantic position. This is indeed a compliment to the lady's charms. Throughout the nineteenth century, conventional morality and the romantic elevation of woman struggle for supremacy in critical studies of the character of Cleopatra. The struggle does not result in a clear-cut victory for either side; on the contrary, a number of attitudes of varying complexity emerge. In the eighteenth century, Dr. Johnson had singled out Cleopatra as the only thoroughly developed character in the play, distinguished by her feminine arts, some of are too low. . ..' This latter statement is not merely a gratuitous moral reprimand; it is an integral part of Johnson's general disapproval of the play. Most nineteenth-century critics, however, found it difficult to accept so brief and sweeping a dismissal of the play and its characters. They were unwilling to accept the major premise of Johnson's criticism-that Antony and Cleopatra was simply not a good play. First, it was written by Shakespeare, whose ranking position in literature went almost unquestioned by these critics; and second, as (ostensibly) a drama of noble love and tragic sacrifice, it was peculiarly attractive to the romantic temperament. Where the critic's moral judgment intervened, this instinctive admiration might be tempered or even nullified by a sober condemnation of Cleopatra's failings. Coleridge, for example, considers Antony and Cleopatra Shakespeare's most wonderful play, but stigmatizes Cleopatra as inspired by a passion which springs out of the habitual craving of a licentious nature. . ..' Sometimes morality won a complete victory, with curious results. Cleopatra was converted into a heroine endowed with the Tennysonian virtues. Furness, the editor of the Variorum edition, simply refuses to believe that any breach of morality may be attributed to Cleopatra. She is, for him, the ideal Victorian