" Chapman, in his comedies generally, shows a kind of
philosophical contempt for woman, as a frailer and flimsier, if fairer,
creature than man, and he sustains his bad judgment with infinite
ingenuity of wilful wit and penetration of ungracious analysis. In "The
Widow's Tears" this unpoetic infidelity to the sex pervades the whole
plot and incidents, as well as gives edge to many an incisive sarcasm.
My sense, says Tharsalio, "tells me how short-lived widows' tears are,
that their weeping is in truth but laughing under a mask, that they
mourn in their gowns and laugh in their sleeves; all of which I believe
as a Delphian oracle, and am resolved to burn in that faith." "He," says
Lodovico, in "May-Day,"--he "that holds religious and sacred thought of
a woman, he that holds so reverend a respect to her that he will not
touch her but with a kist hand and a timorous heart, he that adores her
like his goddess, let him be sure she will shun him like her slave....
Whereas nature made" women "but half fools, we make 'em all fool: and
this is our palpable flattery of them, where they had rather have plain
dealing." In all Chapman's comic writing there is something of Ben
Jonson's mental self-assertion and disdainful glee in his own
superiority to the weakness he satirizes.

In passing from a comedy like "May-Day" to a tragedy like "Bussy
D'Ambois," we find some difficulty in recognizing the features of the
same nature. "Bussy D'Ambois" represents a mind not so much in creation
as in eruption, belching forth smoke, ashes, and stones, no less than
flame. Pope speaks of it as full of fustian; but fustian is rant in the
words when there is no corresponding rant in the soul; whilst Chapman's
tragedy, like Marlowe's "Tamburlaine," indicates a greater swell in the
thoughts and passions of his characters than in their expression. The
poetry is to Shakespeare's what gold ore is to gold. Veins and lumps of
the precious metal gleam on the eye from the duller substance in which
it is imbedded. Here are specimens:--

"_Man is torch borne in the wind; a dream
But of a shadow_, summed with all his substance;
And as great seamen, using all their wealth
And skills in Neptune's deep invisible paths,
In tall ships richly built and ribbed with brass,
To put a girdle round about the world,
When they have done it (coming near their haven)
Are fain to give a warning piece, and call
A poor stayed fisherman, that