Anonymous SHAKE-SPEARE. Kurt Kreiler
and Heidelberg. His descriptions of the places, the people, with their idiosyncrasies and their customs seem, for those who have knowledge of these matters, to correlate so exactly with reality, that the question is not if, but to what extent did Shakespeare weave his Italian experiences into his work.
Theodor Elze, Venetian Sketches on Shakespeare, 1899
Just like a bored, chain-smoking doctor in an army recruiting station the present day Shakespearian is shamefully reduced to a superficial, heartless examination of his patient. His “patients”, the most wonderful plays in the history of literature however are not ill. The only thing that’s wrong with them is that they don’t have an author. Without an author they have no historic foundation, no chronology and no individual motivation. It is high time to replace this incorrect and antiquated guess work with a thorough diagnosis, devoid of ambiguity and dementia.
The Merchant of Venice is set in the sixteenth century, in the town of the same name and in “Belmont”, a luxurious villa situated between Venice and Padua.
The rich heiress, Portia of Belmont, the shining light of the story, a true heroine, has a row of foreign aristocratic suitors, each waiting to make a choice, between a golden, a silver and a leaden casket, that will decide if he is to marry Portia or immediately leave Belmont. Among the premature departures we find the “Neapolitan prince”, the “County Palatine”, “Monsieur Le Bon”, Baron “Falconbridge” and “the Duke of Saxony’s nephew”.
These men are by no means fantasies of the author.
NERISSA. First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
PORTIA. Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself; I am much afear’d my lady his mother play’d false with a smith. (I/2)
According to H. H. Holland (1933) the “Neapolitan prince” bears a lot of similarity to Prince Don Juan d’Austria (1547-1578). Being the admiral of the Mediterranean fleet, John of Austria often had cause to stay in Naples. Don Juan’s mother, Barbara Blomberg, the daughter of a harness maker from Regensburg, had an affair with Emperor Charles V. The Emperor is transformed to the “smith”, an irreverent reference to the God Vulcan and his relationship with Venus. The riding skills of the illegitimate Prince are convincingly described by John Lothrop Motley in “The rise of the Dutch Republic” (1856): “Throughout the land, there was no man who could match him, be it in piercing the rings or jousting at the tilt. He was famous for his bravery and for his skill in taming the most skittish horse.” In 1575 the Venetian envoy to Naples described Don Juan as being a well-dressed, fine figure of a man whose skill with horses was unsurpassed.
Don Juan d’Austria (John of Austria)
Could it be that the whole point of this aristocratic, though rather ignominious cameo appearance was to take a jibe at Queen Elizabeth’s arch enemy Don Juan d’Austria?
If we look a little closer at the virtuous Portia, heiress of Belmont, she proves to be an ideal mirror image of the Virgin Queen. Portia is portrayed as being flawless, mild mannered, knowledgeable, pleasant and well educated. Her wealth is immense; her understanding of the law is superior to that of men. In speech and in bearing she has a regal manner. However, after Bassanio chooses the right casket she surprises him with her subservience:
PORTIA. ... But now I was the lord
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen o’er myself: and even now, but now,
This house, these servants and this same myself
Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring.
Portia’s words throw Bassanio into the sweetest confusion.
BASSANIO. Madam, you have bereft me of all words;
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;
And there is such confusion in my powers
As, after some oration fairly spoke
By a beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude ...
Our laughable parade of suitors continues:
NERISSA. Then is there the County Palatine.
PORTIA. He doth nothing but frown, as who should say ‘An you will not have me, choose.’ He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two!
In 2009 I cast some light on the matter (see: Kreiler 2009). Louis VI, Elector Palatine of the Rhine (1539-1583) began his rule in 1576. Although his father and his younger brother Johann were Calvinists, Ludwig was a Lutheran.
Louis VI, Elector Palatine
Right at the beginning of his rule, Ludwig forbade the Calvinist services in the Heidelberg palace chapel and rid his household of Calvinists. A sickly person from childhood, he introduced a police state that controlled the citizens according to strict Lutheran rules. He fought vehemently against hedonistic pleasures wherever he could. He even abolished Shrove Tuesday and Saint John the baptist’s day, holidays that were very popular throughout the land. When he died in 1583 his fun-loving brother (“Der Jaeger von Kurpfalz”) took over the affairs of state.
Nerissa’s next question requires very close attention:
NERISSA. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?
PORTIA. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he- why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine; he is every man in no man. If a throstle sing he falls straight a-cap’ring; he will fence with his own shadow; if I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.
In the period of time between 1574 and 1584 “Monsieur” was the official term used, when speaking of one of Queen Elizabeth’s prominent suitors, Hercule-François Duc d’Alençon (1555-1584), the younger brother of the King of France. (The epithet “le Bon” was often seen, as an embellishment to the names of rulers-one is reminded of Jean le Bon, King of France, or Philippe le Bon, Duke of Burgundy.) Alençon was a highly strung, fickle and unreliable person, explaining Portia’s remark: “he will fence with his own shadow”. If we feel that the foregoing is insufficient evidence for the conclusion, Alençon = Le Bon perhaps we should ask why he jumps in the air (“he falls straight a capering”), when a throstle sings.
Hercule-François Duc d‘Alençon, called Monsieur
The key to the riddle is that “mauvis” is French for “thrush” [old English throstle] and that a certain Michel de Castelnau, Sieur de la Mauvissière (1517-1592) was the French ambassador to the English court. From this position, he championed the cause of the “French marriage” with such fervour and resilience that whenever Mauvissière, the thrush, sang, “Monsieur” began to dance.
Michel de Castelnau-Mauvissière
The next in line are: Falconbridge, a young Baron from England and his neighbour, a Scot. Falconbridge’s ignorance of Latin, French and modern Italian make it impossible for Portia to even consider him as a suitor. He’s a fine figure of a man, but without the necessary linguistic abilities