V.
SOME OF SHAKESPEARE’S ERRORS IN
LEGAL TERMINOLOGY
FOR my part I see no profound knowledge
of law displayed in the plays. It would indeed be strange, considering
the, surroundings of Shakespeare’s birth and education, if he did not
make frequent use of legal expressions. Could the universal genius,
who apparently like his own creation, Posthumus Leonatus, had
All the learnings, that his time
Could make him the receiver of: which he took
As we do air,
have been brought up as it were within
the four walls of a court house, with the litigants, jurors, and lawyers
his daily companions, and have failed to absorb, aye, drink in as he
did the air, digest and make his own, a large fund of the legal lore
of his surroundings? On the contrary, for him not to have done so would
be a matter of infinite surprise.
To me it seems that it ought to, be apparent
to any lawyer, who is not an enthusiast, that Shakespeare’s knowledge
of law was simply a knowledge of legal expressions, with a fairly correct
idea of their application such as any bright man attending court frequently
and in daily companionship with [33] lawyers
could not fail to acquire; and that of the law itself he had no real
knowledge, except such little as he could pick up in the manner indicated.
Though the frequent use of legal terms,
with their proper technical meanings, has a cumulative effect, and tends
strongly to prove a legal training; yet a very few errors in such use,
if glaring and gross, would absolutely nullify that effect and proof.
Without presuming to rival the learning and ingenuity, the patience
and labor bestowed by Lord Campbell and Senator Davis, I have collected
some instances of inaccuracy in the use of law-terms which I believe
destroy the force of their reasoning.
Tell me what state, what dignity, what
honor
Canst thou demise to any child of mine?
—Richard
III, Act IV. scene 4.
Dignities and honors could not be demised—3
Comyn’s Dig. Tit. Dignity (E), 2 Bl. Com. 36, 37.
Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! What
replication
Should be made by the son of a king?-
—Hamlet,
Act IV. scene 2.
A very few days, or, at most, weeks, of
practical training in a lawyer’s office would have sufficed to teach
Shakespeare that this is an incorrect use of the word replication. The
course of pleading is as follows: The plaintiff makes his demand on
the defendant by a narratio or declaration; the defendant replies by
a plea; and the plaintiff’s reply to this plea is called a replication.
Certainly comment is here unnecessary. Apparently Shakespeare determined
to make use of a legal expression even if he had to [34]
do violence to it, to commit an assault on it, as it were, and lug
it in by the ears. And the same may be said of some of the other instances
hereafter given. Shakespeare’s was a learned and a pedantic age, and
while he could not rival his more plodding contemporaries in their labored
efforts to weigh down their works with classical allusions, none of
them at all rivaled him in his knowledge of, and his reference to, that
great world around him—all that he could see and hear. He knew the habits
of birds and insects, the properties of herbs and flowers, and besides,
soon had a grasp of all the knowledge of that brilliant gathering of
playwrights, his contemporaries and associates, among whom were lawyers,
physicians, divines, and nearly all of whom were classical scholars.
Like Leonatus he took his "learnings" as we do air; he breathed
it in; he absorbed it; he did not get it out of books. This is what
Milton means when he contrasts Jonson’s with Shakespeare’s learning:
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Jonson’s learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy’s child,
Warble his native woodnotes wild.
But legal expressions are highly technical,
and when Shakespeare attended those feasts of the law in courts and
in gatherings of attorneys, and carried away scraps, it is not at all
surprising that he should occasionally commit an error when he used
them so frequently. And when, in a comparatively few instances, his
applications of law terms are so highly technical and so correctly given
as to suggest [35] a lawyer’s touch, can
we not readily believe that here he took advice of some lawyer friend?
In the very nature of things he must have had many such friends.
Till you compound whose right is worthiest
We, for the worthiest, will hold the right from
both.
—King
John, Act II. scene 1.
And we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o’ the senate, what
We have compounded on.
—Coriolanus,
Act V. scene 6.
Content you, gentlemen; I will compound
this strife;
‘Tis deeds must win the prize; and, he of both,
That can assure my daughter greatest dower
Shall have Bianca’s love.
—The
Taming of the Shrew, Act II. scene 1.
To compound (though cited as a legalism
by Senator Davis) is in all these cases used in the general sense of
to settle or determine; but, in a legal sense, it is to settle in a
particular manner, as where a creditor agrees to receive part of his
debt in satisfaction of the whole; or, in criminal law, where one receives
a consideration to refrain from prosecuting a wrongdoer, as when one
whose goods have been stolen agrees not to prosecute the thief if the
goods are returned, which is called " compounding a felony,"
where the theft amounted to a felony. Today, in general literature,
the word is used in pretty much the same sense in which Shakespeare
uses it—perhaps this is due to the force of his great example. [36]
For if a king bid a man be a villain,
he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. —Pericles,
Act I. scene 3.
Here the oath of allegiance is referred
to. The use of the word "indenture" is entirely out of place.
"‘An indenture’ was a writing containing
a conveyance, bargain, or contract . . . between two or more parties,
consisting of the same matter written twice or oftener on the same sheet
with a space between, where, after execution, the parchment was cut
in a serrated or indented line, and a part delivered to each of the
parties." —Burrill’s Law Dictionary.
The word indenture has survived to modern
times, though actual indenting or cutting is never done; but in Shakespeare’s
time it seems actual indenting was necessary to constitute an "indenture
" (5 Co., 21, Stile’s Case), and it was so in Maryland until 1794,
when it was abolished by chapter 57 of the Acts of that year.
An oath never (and ex vi termini not
an oath of allegiance, it being unilateral) had anything to do with
an indenture or an indenture with an oath.
Glend. Come, here’s the map; shall
we divide our right
According to our threefold order ta’en?
Mort. The archdeacon hath divided
it
Into three limits very equally.
Hot. Me thinks my moiety, north
from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours.
—1 Henry IV,
Act III. scene 1. [37]
Moiety (L.
Lat. mediatas) does not mean a third. A half; one of two
equal parts. —Co.. Litt. 34 a, b.
It is to be noted, however, that some
modern lawyers and text-writers use the word moiety as inaccurately
as Shakespeare, as though it could mean a third, or any part.
I do believe,
Induced by potent circumstances, that
You are my enemy, and make my challenge.
You shall not be my judge,
…
I do refuse you for my judge, and here
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
—Henry
VIII, Act II. scene 4.
To "challenge" is to object
or except to those who are returned to act as jurors, either
individually or collectively as a body. The judge was not subject
to challenge.
In which our valiant Hamlet
For so this side of our known world esteemed him
Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a sealed compact,
Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit with his life. . .
—Hamlet,
Act 1. scene 1.
Here "well ratified by" means
"strictly in accordance with." As a legalism its use is out
of place.
"Ratification is where a person adopts
a contract or other transaction which is not binding on him because
entered into by an unauthorized agent. Thus, if A enters into a contract
on behalf of B, without having B’s authority to do so, B may either
[38] repudiate or adopt the contract; if
he adopts it he is said to ratify it, and it then takes effect as if
it had been originally made by his authority." Rapalje &
Lawrence’s Law Dic.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our
queen,
The imperial jointress to this warlike State. .
.
—Hamlet,
Act 1. scene 2.
"Jointress, a woman who has an estate
settled on her by her husband, to hold during her life if she survive
him." —Co. Litt. 46.
Jointure was one of the means used for
barring dower. It was an estate settled on the wife before marriage,
and in lieu of dower; if made after marriage, upon the husband’s death
the widow could either accept it or reject it and take her dower at
common law (2 Bl. Comm. 137)
Queen Gertrude could have neither a dower
nor a jointure in the kingdom of Denmark.
Boyet. So you grant pasture for
me [offering to kiss her.]
Mar. Not so, gentle beast;
My lips no common are, though several they be.
—Love’s Labour’s
Lost, Act II scene 1.
Shakespeare doubtless knew that one cannot
at the same time hold a thing in common and in severalty, and if so,
he here sacrifices his knowledge for a mere play on words, which I fancy
a professional pride, if he had had any legal training, would not have
permitted him to do.
War. Why should you sigh, my
lord?
King H. Not for myself, Lord
Warwick, but my son,
Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. [39]
But be it as it may: I here entail
The crown to thee, and to thine heirs forever;
Conditionally that thou here take an oath
To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
To honor me as thy king and sovereign;
And neither by treason, nor hostility,
To seek to put me down and reign thyself.
—3 Henry V1,
Act I. scene 1.
Senator Davis admits an inaccuracy here.
I quote his language (p. 199): "This is an attempt to grant the
crown, subject to a condition subsequent. The use of the word entail
here seems to be inaccurate, for, though the use of the word heirs is
necessary to create a fee, so the word ‘body’ or some other words of
procreation are necessary to make it a fee tail. A gift, to a man and
his heirs, male or female, is an estate in fee simple and not in fee
tail" (2 Bl. Comm., 114).
You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville,
Have sworn for three years’ term to live with me,
My fellow scholars, and to keep those statutes
That are recorded in this schedule here.
Your oaths are passed, and now subscribe your names.
—Love’s
Labour’s Lost, Act I. scene 1.
The word "statutes" is here
used to mean simply articles of agreement. It has no such meaning in
law. A statute is an act of the legislature of a country. "Statutes-merchant"
and "statutes staple" were the names of certain securities
for debt in Shakespeare’s time, and perhaps this gave him the idea that
any agreement might be called a statute. [40]
Adr. Why, man,
what is the matter?
Dro. S. I do not know the matter: he is ‘rested
on the case.
—The
Comedy of Errors, Act IV. scene 2.
He was not arrested "on the case."
Civil actions at law are broadly divided into two classes: action ex
contractu, growing out of breach of contract, either express or
implied, and actions ex delicto, for the recovery for
wrongs independent of contract. The suit against Antipholus was of the
former class, being for the recovery of the price of goods purchased
from the jeweler; an action on the case is one of the actions ex
delicto.
Antipholus was actually placed under arrest
upon the simple statement of the jeweler to an officer that the former
was indebted to him without writ, warrant, or any process whatever.
Sec. Mer. Therefore
make present satisfaction, or I’ll
Attach you by this officer.
…
Well, officer, arrest him at my suit,
Ang. Either consent to pay the sum
for me,
Or I attach you by this officer.
Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer.
—The
Comedy of Errors, Act IV. scene 1.
Justice must be administered in a very
primitive style, where one who claims that another is indebted to him
can call an officer and say, "Here, officer, this man owes me money;
arrest him." Lawyers and courts would be unnecessary, and no one
could [41] complain of the law’s delay
where such a summary method of procedure was permitted.
Cant. For all the temporal lands,
which men devout
By testament have given to the church,
Would they strip from us.
—Henry
V, Act I. scene 1.
The use of the word "testament"
is here incorrect. A testator bequeaths personal property by
a testament"; he devises real estate by a "will."
Antony. Moreover he hath left you
all his walks,
His private arbors, and his new planted orchards,
On this side Tiber, he hath left them you,
And to your heirs forever.
—Julius
Caesar, Act III. scene 2.
In regard to this passage Senator Davis
says: It is to be remarked that Antony, in speaking of the real estate
left by Caesar to the Roman people, does not use the appropriate word
‘devise.’ Shakespeare nowhere uses the word in connection with a will.
It was also unnecessary for Caesar’s will to have contained the expression
‘to your heirs forever’ in order to give the people a perpetual estate
in the reality."
Shylock. Go with
me to a notary; seal me there
Your single bond, and in a merry sport
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
Expressed in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body it pleaseth me.
—Merchant
of Venice, Act I. scene 3. [42]
It is hardly conceivable that any lawyer,
or anyone who had spent a considerable time in a lawyer’s office, in
Shakespeare’s age, could have been guilty of the egregious error of
calling a bond with a collateral condition a "single bond."
A single bond, simplex obligatio, is a bond without a collateral
condition, but that described by Shylock is with collateral condition.
It is possible that a lawyer in this age would be guilty of ignorance
on this point; but hardly in Elizabeth’s age, and least of all a lawyer
in an inland town like Stratford. In our time, the use of sealed instruments
except in cases of contracts in reference to real estate, contracts
by corporations, and bonds with collateral condition, has largely ceased
among merchants and business men generally, though still in frequent
use by lawyers. This disuse of sealed instruments is, perhaps, chiefly
due to the extension of the lex mercatoria, and the advantage
of negotiability that pertains to most unsealed instruments, and is
also undoubtedly largely due to the fact that almost all men can write
their names, and that not to be able to do so is considered a disgrace.
Certain legal incidents, for historical reasons, still attach to sealed
instruments; but, for practical business purposes, the private seal
is now a useless survival of the Middle Ages. Its use has been abolished
by statute in most of the Western States. But in Shakespeare’s time
the situation was entirely different. The seal was in universal use.
Indeed it is beyond dispute that sometimes educated men belonging to
the gentry, instead of writing their names themselves, would [43]
prefer to have them written by the draughtsman of the instrument
which they were to sign and would themselves simply affix their seals,
as being distinctive of their house or family; and tradesmen who could
write would merely make their marks, they being generally distinctive
of their trade or calling. The probability is that, in the small
town of Stratford, having little or no commerce with the outside world,
the use of the promissory note, bill of exchange, or any unsealed instrument
was entirely unknown to its business people. Accordingly, it must be
assumed that the difference between a single bond and a bond with a
collateral condition was thoroughly understood by every lawyer and every
lawyer’s clerk in Stratford.
But in this play, Shakespeare not only
manifests his lack of knowledge of the technique of the legal profession;
he shows a profound ignorance of law and of the fundamental principles
of justice—unless we assume that the trial scene disregards all ideas
of law, justice, and morality for mere dramatic effect; but it has been
repeatedly shown by many writers that equal dramatic effect could have
been attained without such sacrifice.
Portia, as amicits
curiæ, or referee, in The Merchant of Venice makes
five distinct rulings which are bad in law, in logic, and in morals.*
Shylock [44] sues for the penalty under
his bond. Portia decides that the contract is lawful, and that he has
a right to the penalty. Ex turpe causa non oritur actio was a
maxim of the Civil as well as the Common law. Shakespeare was himself
apparently familiar with it, for in Henry VI, Part II Act V.
Scene 1, he says:
Who canst be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,—etc.
The action could no more have been sustained
in Venice than it could in England. Yet Portia awards judgment.
A pound of that same merchant’s flesh is
thine,
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
Tarry a little, there is something else.
The bond doth give thee here no jot of blood,
The words expressly are, a pound of flesh;
Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh,
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are by the laws of Venice confiscate Unto the State.
Well might Shylock exclaim "Is that
the law?"
Whoever heard of flesh without blood?
A fig without seeds, a nut without a shell?
The court, having pronounced judgment
and awarded execution, tells Shylock that he must himself execute the
judgment. He might well have answered, "I have come here for the
court to give me justice, not to take the law in my own hands. [45]
I am not an officer of the court; let the court’s officers execute
its judgment, and let them be responsible for failure to do so properly.
Even if the court gave a judgment for so much money I should perhaps
render myself liable in an action for damages if I attempted to collect
it myself. It would be the business of the court, through its own officers,
to collect my money, and it is the business and duty of the court to
deliver me my pound of flesh. I have no right to take it myself, and
no court of justice can have the legal power or moral right to make
a suitor therein responsible for the execution of its judgments."
But the next ruling is more remarkable
than the former. Shylock says he will accept the tender of thrice the
bond; but Portia answers "Thou shall have nothing but the penalty,"
and
If thou tak’st more
Or less than a just pound, be it so much
As makes it light or heavy in the substance
Or the division of the twentieth part
Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair,
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Can one imagine it being a criminal act
for a creditor to take less than the amount due him?
And, to cap the climax, this remarkable
judge then rules that Shylock has forfeited the principal of his debt
because he refused a tender. The climax? No; that was still to come.
The court quickly resolves itself into one of criminal jurisdiction,
and the Jew’s goods and life are declared forfeit: [46]
and for what? For having dared to, make a contract which that same
court had a moment before declared valid and binding. And finally this
judge, who had given utterance to that eloquent appeal for mercy, stands
by while the Jew is required, on pain of forfeiture of his life, to
abandon the cherished religion of his fathers and his race, and embrace
the hated religion of the Christian—an ingenuity of cruelty surpassing
that of the thumbscrew or the rack. And all this; the three thousand
ducats he had lent, all his property, and all the property which he
might afterward acquire (for he was required to record in court a deed
of gift of all he died possessed), his religion, and even his life—all
forfeited because he had made a contract which the court held was valid
and could be enforced.
And, by the way, this deed of gift is
another blunder in law. It is a fixed principle of the common law that
a man cannot convey a thing which he has not, though he afterward acquire
it. Only things in esse, having an actual or potential existence,
were subjects capable of gift or grant (Comyn’s Dig. Tit: Grant
(D)).
It has been suggested to the author of
these papers that this deed of gift might have been valid as a gift
causa mortis, or as a Will. But of course no lawyer need be told
that it has not a single element necessary to the validity of a gift
causa mortis, either under the Civil or Common law. Cooper’s
Justinian (ed. 1852), pp. 100, 476.
To be sure instruments in the form of
deeds have [47] frequently been construed
to be wills under the Common Law. "There is nothing that requires
so little solemnity," said Lord Hardwick (in Ross vs. Ewen, 3 Atkins,
163), "as making a Will of personal property, for there is scarcely
any writing which will not be admitted as such." In Maryland in
1883 a letter written by a decedent to his daughter was held to be a
valid will of personalty (Byers vs. Hoppe, 61 Md. 2o6). Indeed, any
writing signed by the party making a disposition of property to take
effect after death, whether in the form of a deed, or whatever its form,
might or could be construed to be a will. It would appear, however,
that this was not so by the Civil law. By it certain particular formalities
were necessary in the making of a will (Cooper’s Justinian, Ed. 1852,
p. 112, et seq.), and it is therefore improbable that
a paper executed as a deed of gift, could, under that system, be adjudged
to be a will. But Shylock’s deed of gift of "all he died possessed"
would not have been valid as a will of real estate which he might acquire
after the date of its execution, any more than it would have been as
a deed of gift as to "after-acquired" property. Other reasons
of a technical nature might be given why this deed could not have taken
effect as a will either under the Common law or the Civil law of Venice.
But they are unnecessary. The deed of gift which Shylock was required
to execute was not his voluntary act, and it is a contradiction in terms
to speak of an involuntary act as a will or testament (which latter
word is, essentially identical in meaning with [48]
"will"). Testamentum ex eo appellatur, quod testatio mentis
sit.
This deed of gift was required to be recorded
"here in the court." The recital of such an instrument (for
a paper in the form of a deed always shows the consideration or cause
of its execution) would show on its face that it was executed in pursuance
of a decree of the court, and not by the voluntary act of the party.
The court which passed upon Shylock’s
case did not observe the distinction of England between courts of law
and equity, but assumed to act as both (indeed, it also assumed criminal
jurisdiction). Now, a court of equity originally acted wholly by decrees
in personam, and enforced its decrees in no other way
than by fine and imprisonment for disobedience. Where, therefore, one
obeys such a decree, he cannot be said to act voluntarily.
Waiving, however, all fine distinctions,
I conclude: If Shakespeare desired to show his knowledge of law by indicating
that a paper in the form of a deed may be considered a will; the method
he uses to do so, of itself, shows gross ignorance of the fundamental
principles of the law. Assuming that this was Shakespeare’s intention,
he—in effect—makes the court order and decree Shylock to execute a will,
and file it in the court. If any court ever had such power, this is,
I believe, the only recorded instance of its exercise. But it is an
absurdity in terms. Assuming, however, that the court had the power,
its exercise would be futile, for, if the deed which Shylock executed
was in fact [49] a will, he could immediately
afterwards have revoked it and made a new and last Will and Testament,
thereby defeating the object of Portia’s decree—a thing which could
not be within the purview of the dramatic action of the Play. Portia’s
object was to compel Shylock to execute a paper which would have the
finality of a judicial action. It is the last will that counts, just
as in the case of deeds, it is the first.
Of course, if Shylock died intestate,
Jessica would inherit or succeed to his property, provided he did not
afterwards remarry, and have other children; in which case she would
only have taken her pro rata share. But what would happen in
case of intestacy is not under discussion. The question is, was the
paper valid either as a will or as a deed? The result is that Portia’s
effort to vest Jessica (who had married a Christian) with Shylock’s
estate, real and personal, was as abortive and as ridiculous as any
or all of her judicial pronouncements. Lawyers who like my Lord Campbell
and Senator Davis, desire to swear Shakespeare in as a lawyer learned
in the law had best omit consideration of The Merchant of Venice.
I cannot close my reference to the law
of this play better than by quoting again from Von Ihering:
"The truth remains truth, even when
the individual defends it only from the narrow point of view of his
personal interests. It is hatred and revenge that takes Shylock before
the Court to cut his pound of flesh out of Antonio’s body; but the words
[50] which the poet puts into his mouth
are as true in it as in any other. It is the language which the wounded
feeling of legal right will speak, in all times and in all places; the
power, the firmness of the conviction, that law must remain Law, the
lofty feeling and pathos of a man who is conscious that, in what he
claims, there is a question not only of his person but of The Law. ‘The
pound of flesh,’ Shakespeare makes him say:
The pound of flesh which I demand of him,
Is dearly bought, is mine, and I will have it;
If you deny me, fie upon your law;
There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
…I crave the law.
…I stay here upon my bond.
‘I crave the law.’ In these four words,
the poet has described the relation of the law, in the subjective, to
law in the objective sense of the term: and the meaning of ‘The Struggle
for Law,’ in a manner better than any philosopher of the law could have
done it. These four words change Shylock’s claim into a question of
the Law of Venice. To what mighty, giant dimensions does not the weak
man grow, when he speaks these words! It is no longer the Jew demanding
his pound of flesh; it is the Law of Venice itself, knocking at the
door of justice; for his Rights and the Law of Venice are one and the
same; they must stand or fall together."
We feel little pity for Shylock, but our
sense of reverence for the law is shocked—the majesty of the Law is
degraded. [51]
Thus I believe I have shown, though in
a very brief and imperfect way, that Shakespeare had no knowledge of
the technique of law, and no just appreciation of those fundamental
principles of justice which are the basis of all law. Though he excelled
all other men who have ever lived in knowledge of, and in ability to
portray, human nature in all its aspects, his ideas of human rights
were narrow and bigoted.
It has been said that Englishmen for generations
took their religion from Milton, and their history from Shakespeare;
but for their law they have looked and must look to an entirely different
class of men.
THE END
________
* See Shakespeare in Fact and in
Criticism, Appleton Morgan; New York, Benjamin, 1888, p. 180. To
make these errors more apparent, Dr. Morgan imagines the case of Shylock
and Antonio, as decided by Portia, sent back for a new trial before
Portia, and finally as reversed, as to every one of her rulings, by
a full bench on appeal. back
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