SINNING AGAINST
DEGREE
(With
reference to Shakespeare’s Tragedies)
DR.
M. V. RAMA SARMA, M. A., Ph. D. (
The term ‘degree’ or ‘order’ is of particular significance to a reader interested in the Elizabethan background. The Elizabethans have used this term with reference to the essential human relationships–relationship between king and subjects, between father and children, and husband and wife. ‘Order’ refers to the order in the universe, order in society, order in man. When the ‘degree’ or ‘order’ is upset disasters take place. Tragic stress is created by the disruption of order.
The
speech of Ulysses in Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida is
indicative of this popular belief of the Elizabethans.
“Degree
being vizarded,
Th’
unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The
heavens themselves, the planets and this centre,
Observe
degree, priority and place,
Insistutre,
course, proportion, season, form,
Office
and custom, in all line of order.
O’
when degree is shaked,
(Which
is the ladder of all high designs)
The
enterprise is sick. How could communities,
Degrees
in schools and brotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful
commerce from dividable shores,
The
primogenitive and due of birth,
Prerogative
of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But
by degree, stand in authentic place?
Take
but degree away, untune that string,
And
hark what discord follows; each thing meets
In
mere oppugnancy;
(Troilus,
Act 1, Sc. iii) 1
‘Degree’
is the basis for everything. National prosperity, political peace and domestic
bliss–all depend on the maintenance of ‘degree’. Its violation is fraught with
serious consequences. Discord and disharmony follow. ‘Order’ stands for cosmos.
Its theological content is significant. It is the opposite of chaos and
darkness that reigned supreme before the creation of the universe. Disruption
of order therefore signifies a return to chaos with all its hideousness. Chaos
comes to Othello when he does not love Desdemona. He says,
‘when
I love thee not,
Chaos
is come again’.
(Othello,
Act 3, Sc. ii)
The
diabolical nature comes to Othello because he upsets the ‘order’, the
understanding that ought to exist between husband and wife. Edmund refuses to
recognise the ‘degree’, the primogeniture. He protests,
‘Wherefore
should I
Stand
in the plague of custom, and permit
The
curiosity of nations to deprive me,
For
that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
Lag
of a brother?’
and
he triumphantly says,
‘Edmund
the base
Shall
top the legitimate.’ (Lear, Act 1, Sc. ii)
He
plots against Edward the legitimate son of
Even
in a crude play like Gorboduc, the first Elizabethan tragedy, there is
the typical background of the age. Gorboduc wishes to divide his kingdom
equally between his two sons, Ferrex and Porrex. This eccentric move
complicates all issues.2 The primogeniture, the relationship between
father and sons, between one brother, and another, all these are upset.
Philander, a counsellor to the younger son, rightly tries to correct this error
by suggesting to the king that it is not good for him to be above his sons only
in name. He speaks the language of the age:
‘And
oft it hath been seen, where nature’s course
Hath
been perverted in disordered wise,
When
fathers cease to know that they should rule,
The
children cease to know they should obey;
I
think not good for you, ne yet for them,
But
worst of all for this our native land’.
(Gorboduc,
Act 1, Sc. ii)
This lengthy speech insists on the law of nature and the need for maintaining ‘degree’ or ‘order’. Gorboduc’s primary obligation is to the people and they should not suffer for the follies of the king. Disasters follow immediately after the division of the kingdom between the two sons. Porrex, the younger son to the king, attacks his brother Ferrex and the latter is slain in the battle. Videna, the queen, who is more in love with her first son, takes revenge against her second son by killing him. One unnatural deed leads to another. Marcella, a lady of the queen’s privy chamber, comments on this monstrosity:
“If
not in women mercy may be found,
If
not, alas, within the mother’s breast,
To
her own child, to her own flesh and blood:
If
ruth be banished thence; if pity there
May
have no place, if there no gentle heart
Do
live and dwell, where should we seek it then?”
(Gorboduc,
Act 4, Sc. ii)
That
a mother should kill her own son is unnatural. It is a perversion in modern
terms, but it is sinning against ‘degree’ in the Elizabethan sense. The people
disgusted with the king and the queen revolt against them and kill them. But
they have to pay the penalty for their sin. They do not show the respect that
ought to be shown to the rulers. Gwenard, Duke of Cumberland, argues,
‘Admit
the worst that may: as sure in this
The
deed was foul, the queen to slay her son,
Shall
yet the subject seek to take the sword,
Arise
against his lord, and slay his king?’
(Gorboduc
Act 5, Sc. 1)
The
king may go wrong, but the people cannot take the law into their hands. They
have to obey the king, whether he is benevolent or wicked. God in his own good time,
as the Elizabethans would say, will punish the king for his misdeeds. Eubulus,
secretary to the king, makes this very clear:
‘Though
kings forget to govern as they ought,
Yet
subjects must obey as they are bound.’
(Gorboduc
Act 5, Sc. i)
The
Elizabethans felt strongly about the ‘order’, and kings had to be kings. But
people could not punish them even if they were to be wrong; perhaps it
originated with the divine right theory of kings, subtly maintained by the
Tudors, and blatantly proclaimed by the Stuart kings. ‘The Elizabethans
believed in an ideal order animating the earthly order, they were terrified
lest it should be upset, and appalled by the visible tokens of disorder that
suggested its upsetting’. 3
An
understanding of this term ‘degree’ or ‘order’ and its relative significance in
the Elizabethan world throws light on some of the unsolved riddles in
Shakespeare’s tragedies. One of the glaring instances of the breach of ‘poetic
justice’ occurs in Lear. Cordelia’s death does not seem to be just or
necessary. Dr. Johnson was shocked by her death and the denial of justice in
it. Tate gave Lear a happy ending and it continued to be acted as a
comedy till the nineteenth century. Cordelia’s death is horrowing and
distressful. It looks as though virtue is not always rewarded in a tragedy,
though vice may ultimately be punished. Cordelia is virtuous and there is a
world of difference between her and her cruel sisters. They are monsters, not
women. They die, they merit the end they get. Their horrible deeds are followed
by equally horrible deaths. But Cordelia has done nothing to deserve the tragic
fate given to her by the dramatist. What earthly use is there in being
virtuous? The wages of sin is death, but what is the reward of virtue? Such questions
arise naturally, if we examine Lear from the eighteenth century view of
‘poetic justice.’
No
doubt Dr. Johnson’s righteous indignation can easily be imagined. He is judging
Lear from the rigid code of his age, submitting it to the dictum that
virtue must be rewarded and vice must be punished. No doubt, to condemn
Cordelia’s death as a gross violation of justice is only one way of looking at
the problem. But Shakespeare with his artistic genius leaves no problem
un-solved. A re-reading of the play with an understanding of the concept of
‘degree’ is bound to be rewarding.
Let
us examine the opening scene in Lear. The king, old and foolish, upsets
the ‘order.’ Even while he is living he wishes to divide his kingdom into three
parts. The existing ‘order’ is ruined; chaos has to set in naturally. He
questions his daughters as regards their affection for him. The first daughter,
and the second, answer him promptly and pleasingly in superlative terms. But
Cordelia gives a curt reply:
‘I
love your majesty
According
to my bond: nor more nor less.’
(Lear,
Act 1, Sc. i)
What
is that band? Lear wants an ampler statement. Cordelia states,
“Good
my lord,
You
have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return
those duties back as are right fit,
Obey
you, love you, and most honour you.
Why
have my sisters husbands, if they say
They
love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That
lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half
my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure,
I shall never marry like my sisters,
To
love my father all.’
(Lear,
Act I, Sc. i)
She
is not yet married. Her father is dearer to her than any other person at that
time. She unnecessarily talks about her future husband and the role she has to
play as a loyal wife to him. Lear’s question, ‘So young and so untender?’ and
his comment that she is worse than the ‘barbarous Scythian’ unmistakably refer
to her sinning against ‘degree’. She needlessly goes against the law of nature.
Her reply is tactless, but to put it in Elizabethan language she has sinned
against ‘degree’. The King of France refers to this position in clear terms,
This
discord has come, according to him, either because of Cordelia’s sinning
against ‘degree’ or because of Lear’s upsetting the ‘order’. Shakespeare seems
to be summing up the ugly turn of events in the opening scene of Lear through
these lines. The Elizabethans accepted the tragic ending of Lear. To
them it was in no way strange. Cordelia’s death need not shock us either, if we
understand the Elizabethan background.
The
same is true of Desdemona in Othello. Desdemona is as pure as snow. She
is loyal to Othello. She allows herself to be strangled by him. Why should a
virtuous woman like Desdemona suffer this kind of monstrous death at the hands
of the very man she has loved? She is butchered like a lamb. Is there any
explanation for this seemingly glaring injustice? ‘Tragedy’s preoccupation is
with suffering’ and her nobility lies in suffering silently, no doubt. But why
should she suffer? What sin has she committed?
In
her own words, her only sin is to have loved Othello. This may sound paradoxical,
but that exactly is her sin. In the last scene Othello enters with the foul
intention of murdering Desdemona. He tells her, ‘Think on thy sins’. She
promptly says, ‘They are the loves I bear to you’. And her love for him has
been unnatural. She has forsaken many noble matches, her father, her country
and her friends for his sake. As Iago says, ‘She did deceive her father’ in
order to marry Othello. She upsets the ‘order’ by allowing herself to be
carried away by her romantic infatuation for the Moor. She sins against
‘degree’ by deceiving her father.
Her
elopement with Othello is sensational. Iago and Roderigo disturb her father
late in the night, inform him of his shame and drag him to the Duke and the
senators. Desdemona’s reply to her father in the council chamber in the
presence of all the senators deserves examination.
‘My
noble father,
I
do perceive here a divided duty:
To
you I am bound for life and education:
My
life and education both do learn me
How
to respect you; you are the lord of duty;
I
am, hitherto your daughter; but here’s my husband,
And
so much duty as my mother showed
To
you, preferring you before her father,
So
much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.’
(Othello
Act I, Sc. iii)
Her
father behaves nobly and in a dignified manner. He controls his rage, but his
heart is ‘bruised’. Desdemona is loyal to her lover, but she has been
treacherously disloyal to her father. It looks like the fulfilment of a curse
that she should meet her death at the hands of the very person for whom she has
given up everything, even her filial duty.
Shakespeare
refers to her father’s death in the last scene. Gratiano says,
‘Poor
Desdemona! I am glad thy father’s dead;
Thy
match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore
his old thread in twain;’
(Othello,
Act 5, Sc. ii)
Why
should Shakespeare purposely refer to this death in the last scene of the play?
Is it such a significant thing that he ought to refer to this? We see her
father in Act 1, Sc. iii; mention is made of him by Desdemona in Act 4, Sc. ii,
and in the last scene Gratiano tells us that he is dead. Shakespeare evidently
refers to his death only to show that Desdemona is not altogether blameless.
Her affection for Othello may be faultlessly pure, but her treatment of her too
trustful father is reprehensible. So her sinning against ‘degree’ demands such
an unnatural end. She abuses the trust put in her by her father and her trust
in Othello is abused by him.
Ophelia
faces a similar conflict. She tells her father that Hamlet has made ‘many
tenders of his affection’ to her. Polonius pooh-poohs the whole idea of
Hamlet’s love for her. He instructs her,
‘Tender
yourself more dearly,
Or
(not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Running
it thus) you’ll tender me a fool.’
(Hamlet,
Act 1, Sc. iii)
He
lectures to her on the desirability of shunning the approaches of Hamlet.
Finally he commands her not to see Hamlet and she has to say, ‘I shall obey, my
lord’. It means severing all connections with her lover. This in indeed a
difficult task for her. She has divided loyalties and she chooses to be
faithful to her father, unlike Desdemona and Cordelia. If the other two are
punished in being not very loyal to their fathers, Ophelia should have been
rewarded for her filial respect. But Shakespeare gives to Ophelia also the same
dismal end he has given to Desdemona and Cordelia.
What
is the explanation? Ophelia is immature and inexperienced. We sympathise with
her when she has to return the letters to Hamlet under instructions from
Polonius. But it is difficult to condone her when she allows herself to be used
as a decoy on Hamlet. She may fear Polonius, but this is too much. It is
altogether revolting and repugnant to Hamlet to see that his own sweetheart has
played a dirty trick on him. He is shocked and scandalised to find her telling
him a lie. He asks her ‘Where, is your father?’ and she says without a moment’s
hesitation ‘At home, my lord’. He calls her a sinner and mockingly tells her
that she should go to ‘a nunnery’ for she should not be ‘a breeder of sinners’.
That she should be false to him is something he can neither understand nor
tolerate. She has sinned against ‘degree’ by subjecting him to a fit of
passion. It is a pity she has overdone her duty by her father, and has given a
heartache to Hamlet. He is perplexed to the extreme and he uses foul language
against Ophelia. Later she suffers and she is ‘divided from herself and her
judgment.’ Ultimately she dies by drowning herself. We no doubt feel sorry for
the hapless woman, but her sinning against ‘degree’ is her own undoing. To the
Elizabethans these events were no problems. They accepted
them as a part of that tragic world, where virtue was not always
rewarded. Moreover, with their belief in ‘degree’ or ‘order’ as the basis’ for
a harmonious life, they were not shocked by these deaths. To
say that ‘poetic justice’ has been flouted by Shakespeare in
some of his tragedies is therefore not just.
A
study of this type may appear to be too narrow in its approach.
It may be argued that in the very nature of the tragic world
vice will no doubt be punished but virtue may not always be rewarded. In a
wicked world it is just possible that along with vice, virtue also may some
times go down. This argument answers the question, why Shakespeare should have
given repeatedly in his tragedies such unmerited deaths to the heroines. But
all the same one can reasonably assume that Shakespeare,
conversant with the Elizabethan background–its culture,
outlook and tradition–could have justified to himself and to the audience the
tragic deaths of the heroines through the understanding and application of the
‘degree’ or ‘order’ to human affairs.
1 Dr.
Tillyard discusses this speech elaborately in his Elizabethan World
Picture.
2
Curiously enough Gorboduc anticipates Lear in its solid
Elizabethan texture.
3 The
Elizabethan world Picture by Dr. Tillrard - P. 13.