The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses for the Armour of Achilles: "The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things"

by James Shirley

James Shirley was born in London in September 1596. His education was through a collection of England’s finest Merchant Taylors' School, London, St John's College, Oxford, and St Catharine's College, Cambridge, where he took his B.A. degree in approximately 1618. He first published in 1618, a poem entitled Echo, or the Unfortunate Lovers. As with many artists of this period full details of his life and career are not recorded. Sources say that after graduating he became "a minister of God's word in or near St Albans." A conversion to the Catholic faith enabled him to become master of St Albans School from 1623–25. He wrote his first play, Love Tricks, or the School of Complement, which was licensed on February 10th, 1625. From the given date it would seem he wrote this whilst at St Albans but, after its production, he moved to London and to live in Gray’s Inn. For the next two decades, he would write prolifically and with great quality, across a spectrum of thirty plays; through tragedies and comedies to tragicomedies as well as several books of poetry. Unfortunately, his talents were left to wither when Parliament passed the Puritan edict in 1642, forbidding all stage plays and closing the theatres. Most of his early plays were performed by Queen Henrietta's Men, the acting company for which Shirley was engaged as house dramatist. Shirley's sympathies lay with the King in battles with Parliament and he received marks of special favor from the Queen. He made a bitter attack on William Prynne, who had attacked the stage in Histriomastix, and, when in 1634 a special masque was presented at Whitehall by the gentlemen of the Inns of Court as a practical reply to Prynne, Shirley wrote the text—The Triumph of Peace. Shirley spent the years 1636 to 1640 in Ireland, under the patronage of the Earl of Kildare. Several of his plays were produced by his friend John Ogilby in Dublin in the first ever constructed Irish theatre; The Werburgh Street Theatre. During his years in Dublin he wrote The Doubtful Heir, The Royal Master, The Constant Maid, and St. Patrick for Ireland. In his absence from London, Queen Henrietta's Men sold off a dozen of his plays to the stationers, who naturally, enough published them. When Shirley returned to London in 1640, he finished with the Queen Henrietta's company and his final plays in London were acted by the King's Men. On the outbreak of the English Civil War Shirley served with the Earl of Newcastle. However when the King's fortunes began to decline he returned to London. There his friend Thomas Stanley gave him help and thereafter Shirley supported himself in the main by teaching and publishing some educational works under the Commonwealth. In addition to these he published during the period of dramatic eclipse four small volumes of poems and plays, in 1646, 1653, 1655, and 1659. It is said that he was “a drudge” for John Ogilby in his translations of Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey, and survived into the reign of Charles II, but, though some of his comedies were revived, his days as a playwright were over. His death, at age seventy, along with that of his wife, in 1666, is described as one of fright and exposure due to the Great Fire of London which had raged through parts of London from September 2nd to the 5th. He was buried at St Giles in the Fields, in London, on October 29th, 1666.

49 pages, Kindle Edition

Published June 1, 2017

Reviews

[Bill Kerwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against Fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

I’ve loved this little dirge ever since I first encountered it—adorned with the title of “Death the Leveller”—in Palgrave’s Golden Treasury over fifty years ago. Since the dramatist James Shirley was listed as its author, I assumed that it served a funereal function in one of his many plays, but I failed to encounter it in my reading of Shirley’s works. (And—trust me—I have read more than my share of Shirley). Finally, I decided to seek out its origins, and found that I was right …. well, almost right. And behind the need for that “almost” lies a tale.

James Shirley was the premier poet of the Caroline drama, a term used to designate British theatre in the reign of King Charles I. He was at the height of his powers—in his forty-sixth year—when Parliament, under the control of Oliver Cromwell, closed the theaters in 1642. But he lived long enough not only to see the son of his king return to England in 1660, but also to see his old plays revived on the Restoration stage.

During the Puritan years, since a public performance of his dramatic works was denied him, Shirley supported himself by teaching, probably in the White Friars section of London where he lived at the time. Ver and drama, however, were never far away. He continued to published poetry and plays in verse, and even used his facility in verse composition to assist his students in the memorization of Latin grammar.

One of the works he published during this period was The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses for the Armour of Achilles (1649), which is described as being performed by “young gentlemen of quality, at a private entertainment.” Best guess: Shirley directed his White Friars students in a performance of The Contention as a school play. It was here that “Death the Leveller” first appeared, as a funeral dirge for the unfortunate Ajax. Although the play remained obscure, the dirge became a favorite of King Charles II, and was eventually heavily anthologized, becoming James Shirley’s most famous work.

So how is The Contention as a work of art? Polished, professional, but slight. It is an interlude, after all, not a finished play. Still, the individual voices of Ajax the blunt bombastic soldier and Ulysses the subtle thinker are effectively delineated. Here’s a sample of each:

AJAX:

Great Jove, immure my heart, or girt it with
Some ribs of steel, lest it break through this flesh,
And with a flame contracted from just fury,
Set fire on all the world: How am I fallen?
How shrunk to nothing? my fame ravish'd from me?
That this sly talking Prince is made my Rival
In great Achilles Armour: Is it day?
And can a Cloud darker than night, so muffle
Your eyes, they cannot reach the Promontory,
Beneath which now the Grecian fleet rides safe,
Which I so late rescued from Trojan flames,
When Hector frightful, like a Globe of fire,
By his example taught the enraged youth
To brandish lightning; but I cannot talk,
Nor knows he how to fight, unless in the dark
With shadows. I confess, his eloquence
And tongue are mighty, but Pelides sword
And armour were not made things to be talk'd on,
But worn and us'd, and when you shall deter∣mine
My juster claim, it will be fame enough
For him, to boast, he strove with Ajax Telamon.
And lost the prize, due onely to my merit.


ULYSSES:

Wisemen joyn policy with force, the Lyon
Thus with the Fox, makes up the Souldiers emblem.
And now I look on Ajax Telamon,
I may compare him to some specious building,
His body holds vast rooms of entertainment,
And lower parts maintain the Offices,
Onely the Garret, his exalted head,
Useless for wise receipt, is fill'd with lumber,
A Mastiff dares attempt to combate Lyons,
And I'll finde men among your Mercenaries
Shall fly on Hydra's, if you name that valour:
But he, that we call valiant indeed,
Knows how, and when to fight, as well as bleed.