| 'T: 1 E PLAYS AND POEMS or . 5 ; WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 2 VOLUME THE FIRST. y- PART I. | _ CONTAINING hp 1A P R O L E GOM E N A, * „ * = * d Þ Þ ( 2 % F + x. 4 4 + Fa, 4 a 3 28 8 <* , Seed. Þ Þ 7 Þ To Þ 2 * 2 N 1 * 1 * * 5 7 of * JA 2 * N * - ty 1 1 * l a * \Þ 1 > : * * - * . 1 44 5 * * * 7 8 2 N - P * . F * „ 4 * x * * 7 KY b 4 Y | J « 8 "4+ 9 1 . . | ; : "y " 1 . 5 * 5 1 is F A * » & as * WY n ir 9 5 4 F b „ e W214 * 4 34,5 $3 1 39 2 +4 dS © „ „ 0 — N 4 Py | * 4 * . , f "WE i 34 1 * . . N ö Y * * P . + 4 BEN LAY 8 1 * p % * 5 * . 2 * o = . * . 4 a . 2 K Re * At. — . * * ett tte edle! r 2 45 « 4X7 „1. 2 4 6. eren Nennen! rennen. PR ..in , - K 51 „„ „„ „„ „ 7 rr „1 „6 „„ 7 I 0 =_ Ir . 2. RA 451,2. a eee eee 2. ow — 7 9 I. * As Ha tpn er noi} 2 2 ** Les 44 aA, ene 5697 aol 4s 4 > . 1 "I : 1 = , | 4 „ ö . - . Cid | | 1 „ e, from a Dranvng of te came wine, made ty One Hang, | OSIRIS, A. # ; 8 r | 2 Picture en the Collection of hes Grace cli lade of ¶ eu * * d as the Act Aeta. br u Hab. by J. Rivington & Partners. > h + "+ * * " , Tr "WI 3 * ” I 4 * — a A a 1 4 . 2 wi * * S 1 if gon * —— Ja * | * ” d * *. a Yo * 9 +. 8 FS THE OF WILLIAM ns IN TEN VOLUMES; COLLATED VERBATIM WITH THE MOST AUTHENTICK COPIES, AND REVISED: | WITH THE CORRECTIONS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. O F VARIOUS COMMENTATORS; TO WHICH ARE ADDED, AN ESSAY ON THE CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF HIS PLAYS; | AN ESSAY RELATIVE TO SHAKSPEARE AND JONSON ; : A DISSERTATION ON THE. THREE PARTS OF KING HENRY v.; ; AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE; 15 AND NOTES; By EDMOND MA LONE. Tns pve HAT us w, roy ute! aoopexuy eig . Viet. Auct᷑. apud * QUEM Tv, DEA, TEMPORE IN OMNI. ouxizus ORNATUM VOLUISTI EXCELLERE REBUS.Lucrets LONDON: PRINTED Ir K. BALDWIN, For J. Rivington and Sons, L. Davis, B. White and Son, T. Longman, B. Law, H. S. Woodfall, C. Dilly, J. Robſon, J. ang 'T.Ver nor, G. G. J. and J. Robinſon, T. Cadell, „ R. Baldwin, H. L. Gardner, J. Sewell, J. cd . . » Payne, jun. S. Hayes, R. Faulder, W. Lowndes, G. and T. Wilkie, Scatcherd and Whitaker, T. and J. Egerton, C. Stalker, J. Barker, J. Edwards, Ogilvie and Speare, J. Cuthell, J. Lackington, and . Newbery. M DCC xc. Py 1 'S; +. 4 Ren KR © 2 3 . 1 1 P R E YH W G 2 the following work, the labour of eight years, I have endeavoured, with unceaſing ſolicitude, to give a faithful and correct edition of the plays and poems of Shakſpeare. Whatever imperfection or errours there- fore may be found in it, (and what work of ſo great length and difficulty was ever free from errour or imper- feQion ?) will, I truſt, be imputed to any other cauſe than want of zeaÞ for the due execution of the taſk Wow I ventured*to undertake. | i The difficulties to be encountered by an editor of the works of Shakſpeare, haye been ſo frequently | ſtated, and are ſo generally acknowledged, that it may ſem unneceſſary to conciliate the publick favour by this plea: but as theſe in my opinion have in ſome par- ticulars been over- rated, and in others not ſufficiently inſiſted - on; f ard às the true ſtate of the ancient copies of this poet's'writings has never been laid before the pubu | lick; I ſhall conſider the ſubject as if it had not _ N diſcuſſed by preceding editors. | In the year 1756 Dr. Johnſon publiſhed the follow ing excellent ſcheme of a new edition of Shakſpeare's - dramatick pieces, which he completed in 17652: * When the works of Shakſpeare are, after ſo many editions, again offered to ihe publick, it will doubtleſs be enquired, why Shakſpeare ſtands in more need of cti- tical aſſiſtanoe than any other of the Engliſh writers, Yu I. Paar J. 4 | and i R EF ACE and what are the deficiencies of the late attempts, whictz another editor may hope to ſupply. The buſineſs of him that republiſhes an ancient book is, to correct what is corrupt, and to explain what is obſcure. To have a text corrupt in many places, and in many doubtful, is, among the authours that have written ſince the uſe of types, almoſt peculiar to Shak- ſpeare. Moſt writers, by publiſhing their own works, prevent all various readings, and preclude all conjectural criticiſm. Books indeed are ſometimes publiſhed after the death of him who produced them, but they are better ſecured from corruptions than theſe unfortunate compoſitions. They ſubſiſt in a ſingle copy, written or reviſed by the authour; and the faults of the printed volume can be only faults of one deſcent. « But of the works of Shakſpeare the condition has been far different: he ſold them, not to be printed, but to be played. They were immediately copied for the actors, and multiplied by tranſcript after tranſcript;, vitiated by the blunders of the penman, or changed by the affeRation of the player; perhaps enlarged to intro- duce a jeſt, or mutilated. to ſhorten the | repreſentation x and printed at laſt without the concurrence of the authour, without the conſent of the proprietor, from compila- tions made by chance or by ſtealth aut of the ſeparate parts written for the theatre: and thus thruſt into the world ſurreptitiouſly and haſtily, they ſuffered another depravation from the ignorance and negligence of tho printers, as every man Who knows the ſtate of the preſs in that age will readily conceive. It is not eaſy for invention to bring together Go . caukes — to vitiate a text. No other authour N 111 authour ever gave up his works to fortune and time with ſo little care; no books could be left in hands ſo likely to injure tem, as plays frequently acted, yet continued in manuſcript: no other tranſeribers were likely to be ſo little qualified for their taſk as thoſe who copied for the ſtage, at a time when the lower ranks of the people were univerſally illiterate : no other editions were made from fragments ſo minutely broken, and ſo fortuitouſly re-united ; arid in no other age was the art of printing in ſuch unſkilful hands. « With the cauſes of corruption that make the reviſa of Shakſpeare's dramatick pieces neceſſary; may be enu- mexated the cauſes of obfcurity; which may be 1 uted to his age, and partly to himſelf. «© When a writer outlives his contemporaries, and Mains almoſt the only unforgotten nate of a diſtant time, he is neceffarily obſcure. Evety age has its thodes of ſpeech, and its caſt of thought ; which, though eaſily explained when there are many books to be compared with each other, become ſometimes unintelligible, and always difficult, when there ate no parallel paſſages that may conduce to their illuſtration. Shakſpeare is the firſt conſiderable authour of ſublime or familiar di in our language. Of the books which he read, and from which he formed his ſtile, ſome perhaps have periſhed, and the reſt are neglected. His imitations are therefore unnoted, his alluſions are undiſcovered and many beauties, both of pleafantry and greatneſs, are loſt with the objects to which they were — as the figures vaniſh when the canvas has decayed. « Tt is the great excellence of Shakfpeare, that he _ his ſcenes from nature, and from life. He copied | a 2 the iy PAEFACH the manners of the world then paſſing before him, and has more alluſions than other poets to the traditions and ſuperſtitions of the vulgar ; which muſt therefore be traced before he can be underſtood. 5 « He wrote at a time when our poetical language was yet unformed, When the meaning of our phraſes was yet in fluctuation, when words were adopted at pleaſure from the neighbouring languages, and while the Saxon was ſtill viſibly mingled in our diction. The reader is therefore embarraſſed at once with dead and with foreign languages, with obſoleteneſs and innova- tion. In that age, as in all others, faſhion produced phraſeology, which ſucceeding faſhion ſwept away before its meaning was generally known, or ſufficiently authoriſed : and in that age, above all others, experi- ments were made upon our language, which diſtorted its combinations, and diſturbed its uniformity, . 3 « If Shakſpeare has difficulties above other writers, it is to be imputed to the nature of his work, which required the uſe of the common colloquial language, and conſequently admitted many phraſes alluſive, ellip- tical, and proverbial, ſuch as we ſpeak and hear every hour without obſerving them; and of which, being now familiar, we do not ſuſpect that they can ever grow uncouth, or that, being now obvious, they can ever ſeem remote. 5 « Theſe are the principal cauſes of the obſcurity of Shakſpeare ; to which may be added that fulneſs of idea, which might ſometimes load his words with more ſentiment than they could conveniently convey, and that rapidity of imagination which might hurry him to a ſecond thought before he had fully explained 1 : the : ? N T A CE v che firſt. But my opinion is, that very few of his lines were difficult to his audience, and that he uſed ſuch expreſſions as were then common, though the paucity of contemporary writers makes them now ſeem peculiar. „ Authours are often praiſed for improvement, or blamed for innovation, with very little juſtice, by thoſe who read few other books of the ſame age. Addiſon himſelf has been ſo unſucceſsful in enumerating the words with which Milton has enriched our language, as perhaps not to have named one of which Milton was the authour: and Bentley has yet more unhappily praiſed him as the introducer of thoſe eliſions into Engliſh poetry, which had been uſed from the firſt eſſays of verſification among us, and which Milton was indeed the laſt that practiſed. « Another impediment, not the leaſt vexatious to the commentator, is the exactneſs with which Shak- ſpeare followed his authour. Inſtead of dilating his thoughts into generalities, and expreſſing incidents with poetical latitude, he often combines circ um- ſtances unneceſſary to his main deſign, only becauſe he happened to find them together. Such paſſages can be illuſtrated only by him who has read the ſame ſtory in the very book which Shakſpeart conſulted. He that undertakes an edition of Shakſpeare, has all theſe difficulties to Ma and all theſe obſtruc- tions to remove. „ 'The corruptions of the text will be corrected by a careful collation of the oldeſt copies, by which it is hoped that many reſtorations may yet be made: at leaſt it will be neceſſary to collect and note the variations as 1 materials yi DPRKUNTAQEK materials for future criticks, for. it very often happens that a wrong reading has affinity to the right. In this part all the preſent editions are apparently and intentionally defective. The criticks did not fo much as wiſh to facilitate the labour of thoſe that followed them. The ſame books are ſtill to be com- pared ; the work that has been done, is. to be done again, and no ſingle edition will ſupply the reader with a text on which he canrely as the beſt copy of the works of Shak ſpeare. The edition now . will at leaſt have this advantage over others. It will exhibit all the obſervable varieties of all the copies that can be found; that, if the reader is not ſatisfied with the editor's determination, he may have the means of chooſing better for himſelf. « Where all the books are evidently vitiated, and collation can give no aſſiſtance, then begins the taſk of critical ſagacity: and ſome changes may wellabe ad- mitted in a text never ſettled by the authour, and ſo long expoſed to caprice and ignorance. But nothing ſhall be impoſed, as in the Oxford edition, without notice of the alteration ; nor ſhall conjecture be wantonly or unneceſſarily indulged. | «© Tt has been long found, that very ſpecious emenda- tions do not equally ſtrike all minds with conviction, nor even the ſame mind at different times; and there- fore, though perhaps many alterations may hu — as eligible, very few will be obtruded as certain. In a language ſo ungrammatical as the Engliſh, and fo Tom- : tious as that of Shakſpeare, emendatory criticiſm, is always hazardous; nor can it be allowed to. any man who is not particularly * in the writings of that age, — P R E F A C E. vi F age, and particularly ſtudious of his authour*; s dic- tion. There 1s danger leſt peculiarities ſhould be miſtaken for corruptions, and paſſages rejected as unintelligible, which a narrow mind happens not to underſtand. ; « All the former eriticks have been ſo much employed on the correction of the text, that they have not ſuffi- ' cinatl attended to the elucidation of paſſages obſcured by accident or time. The editor will endeavour to read the books which the authour read, to trace his knowledge to its ſource, and compare his copies with the originals, If in this part of his defign he hopes to attain any degree of ſuperiority to his predeceſſors, it muſt be conſidered, that he has the advantage of their labours ; that part of the work being already done, more care is naturally beſtowed on the other part; and that, to declare the truth, Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope were very ignorant of the ancient Englith literature; Dr. Warburton was de- tained by more important ſtudies 3 and Mr. Theobald, if fame be juſt to his memory, ee learning only as an inſtrument of gain, and made no further inquiry after his author's meaning, when once he had notes ſufficient to embelliſh his Page with the expected deco, rations. « With regard to obſolete or peculiar e the editor may perhaps claim ſome degree of confidence, having had more motives to conſider the whole extent of our langnage than any other man from its firſt for- mation. He hopes, that, by comparing the works of Shakſpeare with thoſe of writers who lived at the ſame time, immediately preceded, or immediately followed him, he ſhall be able to aſcertain his ambiguities, dif- a 4 entangle — «A * A 5 W 2 REF NR IG entangle his intricacies, and recover the meaning * * words now loſt in the darkneſs of antiquity. „% When ten any obſcurity ariſes from an allu- © -Fion to ſome -othier” book, 'the paſſage will be quoted. When the diction 1s entangled, it will be cleared by a paraphraſe” or interpretation. When the ſenſe is broken by the ſuppreſſion of part of the ſentiment in Pleaſantry or paſſion, the connection will be ſupplied When any forgotten cuſtom is hinted, care Wilk be taken to retrieve and explain it. The meaning afſigned 1 to doubtful woids will be ſupported by the authorities of other e or by 8 h of Shak- 4 ſpeare himſelf. 4 Phe ble weden of faults 220 ies; is one, of the duties of an annotator, which ſome of Shakſpeare” 8 editors have attempted, and ſome have neglected. * For this part of his taſk, and for this only, was Mr. Pope eminently and indiſputably qualified: nor has Dr. Warburton followed him with leſs diligence or leſs ſucceſs. But I never obſerved that mankind was much delighted or improved by their aſteriſks, commas, or double commas ; of which the only effect is, that they preclude the pleaſure of judging for ourſelves, teach the young and ignorant to decide without principles; de- feat curioſity and diſcernment by leaving them leſs to diſcover ; and, at laſt, ſhew the opinion of the critick, without the reaſons on which it was founded, and without affording any light Tn which it =y be examined. % The editor, though bs may leſs aclight his. own Vanity, will N pleaſe his reader more, by ſuppo- ſing PREFACE ſing him equally able with himſelf to judge of beauties and faults, which require no previous acquiſition of remote knowledge. A deſcription of the obvious ſcenes of nature, a repreſentation of general life, a ſentiment | of reflection or experience, a deduction of concluſive argument, a forcible eruption of efferveſcent paſſion, are to be conſidered as proportionate to common appre- henſion, unaſſiſted by critical officiouſneſs ; ſince to conceive them, nothing more is requiſite than acquaint- ance with the general ſtate of the world, and thoſe faculties which he muſt always bring with bim who would read Shakſpeare. BO - © But when the beauty ariſes from ſome adaptation | of the ſentiment to cuſtoms worn out of uſe, to opinions not univerſally prevalent, or to any accidental or minute particularity, which cannot be ſupplied by common underſtanding, or common obſervation, it is the duty of a commentator to lend his aſſiſtance. The notice of beauties and faults thus limited will make no diſtinct part of the deſign, being reducible to the explanation of obſcure paſſages. „The editor does not however intend to preclude himſelf from the compariſon of Shakſpeare's ſentiments or expreſſion with thoſe of ancient or modern authours, or from the diſplay of any beauty not obvious to the ſtudents of poetry; for as he hopes to leave his authour better underitood, he wiſhes likewiſe to n him more rational approbation. « The former editors have affected to flight als predeceſſors: but in this edition all that is valua- ble will be adopted from every commentator, that ny may conſider it as ITY all the reſt, and exhibit — of „„ — - N —B . or = - * — 1 - - I — 2... ˙ / 5. Ee rr ee een eee as, tr mens, = 0 Wenn IT? — F „ 4 x PRE VT A CI exhibit whatever is hitherto known of the great father of the Engliſh drama. | Though Dr. Johnſon has here 8 out with his uſual perfpicuity and vigour the true courſe to be taken by an editor of Shakſpeare, ſome of the poſitions which he has laid down may be controverted, and ſome are indubitably not true. It is not true that the plays of this authour were more incorrectly printed than thoſe of any of his contemporaries : for in the plays of Marlowe, Marſton, Fletcher, Maſſinger, and others, as many errours may be found. It is not true that the art f printing was in no other age in fo unſkilfut hands. Nor is it true, in the latitude in which it is ſtated, that © theſe plays were printed from compilations made by chance or by ſtealth ont of the ſeparate parts written for the theatre :** two only of all his dramas, The Merry Mives of Windſor and N. Henry J. appear to have been thus thruſt into the world, and of the former it is yet a doubt whether it is a firſt ſketch or an imperfect copy. I do not believe that words were then adopted at plea- ſure from the neighbouring larjguages, or that an anti- quated diction was then employed by any poet but Spenſer. That the obſcurities of our authour, to what- ever cauſe they may be referred, do not ariſe from the paucity of contemporary writers, the preſent edition |} may furni ſn indiſputable evidence. And laſtly, if it be | true, that very few of Shakſpeare's lines were diffi- cult to his audience, and that he ufed ſuch expreflions as were then common, (a poſition of which I have not the ſmalleſt doubt,) it cannot be true, thai his: reader 1s embarraſſed at once with dead and with foreign languages, with obfoletencls and innovation.“ op > „When DE FK NE 1 When Mr. Pope firſt undertook the taſk of revi- 4 fing theſe plays, every anomaly of language, and every + ® expreſſion that was not underſtood at that time, were | | conſidered as errours or corrruptions, and the text was altered, or amended, as it was called, at pleaſure. The principal writers of the early part of this century ſeem never to have looked behind them, and to have con- 2 ſidered their own era and their own phraſeology as the ſtandard of perfection: hence from the time of Pope's edition, for above twenty years, to alter Shakſpeare's text and to reſtore it, were conſidered as ſynonymaus terms. During the laſt thirty years our principal employ- ment has been to reſtore, in the true ſenſe of the word; to eject the arbitrary and capricious innovations made by our predeceſſors from ignorance of the phraſeology f and cuſtoms of the age in which Shakſpeare lived. As on the one hand our poet's text has been de- ſcribed as more corrupt than it really is, fo on the other, the labour required to inveſtigate fugitive alluſions, to explain and juſtify obſolete phraſeology by parallel paſſages from contemporary authours, and to form a genuine text by a faithful collation of the original copies, has not perhaps had that notice to which it is entitled; for undoubtedly it is a laborious and a difficult taſk: and the due execution of this it is, which can alone entitle an editor of Shakſpeare to _ favour of the publick. J have ſaid that the comparative value of the various ancient copies of Shakſpeare's plays has never been preciſely aſcertained. To prove this, it will be neceffary to go into a long and minute diſcuſli jon, for which, however, naar however, no apology is neceſſary: for though to ex- plain and illuſtrate the writings of our poet is a principal duty of his editor, to aſcertain his genuine text, to fix 3 what is to be explained, is his firſt and immediate ob- * ject: and till it be eſtabliſned which of the ancient copies is entitled to preference, we have no criterion by which the text can be aſcertained. 1 Fifteen of Shakſpeare's plays were printed in quarto antecedent to the firſt complete collection of his works, which was publiſhed by his fellow-comedians in 1623. Theſe plays are, I Midſummer-Night's Dream, Love's Labour's Loft, Romeo and Fuliet, Hamlet, The Two parts of K. Henry IV. A. Richard II. K. Richard III. The Merchant of Venice, K Henry V. Much ado about Nothing, The Merry Wives of Windſor, Troilus and Creſſida, King Lear, and Othello. The players, when they mention theſe copies, repre- ſent them all as mutilated and imperfect; but this was merely thrown out to give an additional value | to their own edition, and is not ſtrictly true of any | but two of the whole number; The Merry Wives of | Windſor, and K. Henry V. With reſpe& to the other | thirteen copies, though undoubtedly they were all ſur- reptitious, that 1s, ſtolen from the playhouſe and printed without the conſent of the authour or the 'proprie- tors, they in general are preferable to the exhibition of the ſame plays in the folio; for this plain reaſon, becauſe, inſtead of printing theſe plays from a manu- ſcript „ the editors of the folio, to ſave labour, or from ſome other motive, printed the greater part of them from to very copies which ey repreſented as maimed C1 "EO EREFAGCGE iii i | maimed and imperſect, and frequently from a late, inſtead of the earlieſt, edition; in ſome inſtances with additions and alterations of their own. Thus therefore Z 3 the firſt folio, as far as reſpects the plays above enume- rated, labours under the diſadvantage of being at leaſt a FX ſecond, and in ſome caſes a third, edition of theſe — 2 * W EC. ES WY . Rae, %F ws * quartos. I do not however mean to ſay, that many } valuable corrections of paſſages undoubtedly corrupt in the quartos are not found in the folio copy; or that a ſingle line of theſe plays ſhould be printed by a careful editor without a, minute examination, and collation of q | both copies; but thoſe quartos were in general the baſis on which the folio editors built, and are entitled to our particular attention and examination as fit editions, It is well known to thoſe who are converſant with the buſineſs of the preſs, that, (unleſs when the authour corrects and reviſes his own works,) as editions of books are multiplied, their errours are multiplied: alſo ; and that conſequently every ſuch edition is more or leſs correct, as it approaches nearer to or is more diſtant from the firſt. A few inſtances of the gradual pro- greſs of corruption will ANY evince the truth of this. aſſertion. In the original copy of K. Richard Il. 4to. 1 397. Act II. ſc. ii. are theſe lines: « You promis'd, when you parted with the king, « To lay alide / ife-harming heavineſs.” In a ſubſequent quarto, printed in 1608, inſtead of life-harming we find HALF-harming ; which being perceived by the editor of the folio to be nonſenſe, he ſubſtituted, inſtead of it, —sE L F-harming heavineſs. In =_ —_—_— 4 * A : = h TRE * ———— T 8 r © Sy" et * 2 . — n — = . bo - „ 32 — xlv 2 KR E F A1 C F. — — — ——————— ¶ cꝗga IT and the line printed thus, _ folio,) inſtead of examining the firſt edition, ne the reading of the earlieſt copy | caudy being printed in the firſt folio inſtead of candy, by 3 ſecond folio corrected the errour by ſubſtituting gawdy, ® the negligence of the compoſitor was exhibited without ; | the word huge: ; alt the editor of the folio, finding the metre imperfect, | In the original copy of K. Henry . P. I. A in 1 598, Act IV. fc. iv. we find— — 4 « And what with Owen Glendower? 8 Wiſence W 4 „(Who with them was @ rated finew too,) &c. ® In the fourth quarto printed in 1608, the article being omitted by the negligence of the compoſitor, „Who with them was rated ſinew too,” — 9 the editor of the next quarto, (which was copied by the errour (leaving the metre {till imperfe&) by reading— "OT Who with them was rated firmly too. * So, in the ſame play, Act I. ſc. iii. agen of the 1 « Why, what a candy deal of contraſt? JE ISETEY the accidental inverfion of the letter u, the editor of the 8 Jo, in the ſame play, AQ III. ſc. i. inſtead of the 1 reading of the earlieſt impreſſion, 6 « 'The frame and huge foundation of the . in the ſecond and the ſubſequent quartos, the line by « The frame and foundation of the earth 8 fupplicd it by reading, * The frame and he foundation a the catth. 75 Another P R E F A C E. | xv Another line in Act v. ſc. ult. 3 is thus exhibited in me quarto, 1598: | e, $ But that the earthy and cold hand of death 7 Earth being printed inſtead of earthy, in the next le and the ſubſequent quarto copies, the editor of the Tr, 4 folio amended the line thus: hut that the earth and the cold hand of death. Again, in the preceding ſcene, we find in the firſt copy, he «« I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot.” — he inſtead of which in the fifth quarto, 1613, we have J was not born 75 yield, thou proud Scot.“ This being the copy that was uſed by the editor of he the folio, inſtead of examining the moſt ancient impreſ- fion, he corrected the errour according to his own fancy, and ae e while the work was paſſing chrough the preſs, by reading | 40 ; « was not born 4 yield, thou haughty Scot." In Romeo and Fultet, Juliet ſays to her nurſe, | he | In faith, I am forry that thou art not well.” nd this line in the firſt folio being corruptly exhibited— In faith, I am ſorry that thou art / well.” he editor of the ſecond folio, to obtain fome ſenſe, printed — . « In faith, I am ſorry that 8 art /a 47. In the quarto copy of the fame play, pubhſhed ire 599, we find— of | 9 O happy dagger, *« This is thy ſheath; there ruſt, and let me die.” | . | In A ue Ne OP + a Xi TY E * A © FE. 8 2 * * k In the next quarto, 1609, the laſt line i is thus be- 1 150 3 ET 257 is thy ſheath,” &c. \ "The editor of the folio, ſeeing that this was manifeſtly „ wrong, abſurdly corrected the errour thus: 4 _ «Tis in thy ſheath ; there ruſt, and let me die.“ Again, in the ſame play, quarto 1599, miſhav'd den corruptly printed, for miſbeßav d4.— But like a miſhav'd and ſullen wench—" the editor of the firſt folio, to obtain ig ike ſenſe, reads— | But like a misſhap'd and "NEW wench—”” 2 and inſtead of this, the editor of the ſecond folio, for | E the fake of metre, gives us— 1 « But like a misſhap'd and a ſullen wench—;” | 2 Again, in the firſt ſcene of K. Richard III. quarto, | | 1597, we find this line: f 10 That tempers him to this extremity." 1 0 In the next quarto, and all 8 tempts 78 corruptly printed inſtead of ſempers. The line then wanting a ſyllable, the editor of the folio printed it thus: % That 7empts him to this harſh "ON 85 Not to weary my reader, I ſhall add but two more inſtances , from Romeo and Fuliet : « Away to heaven, reſpective lenity, * _FAnd Pk: fury be my conduct now! 24 Ez P. R E F A C E. xvii 8 fays Romeo, when provoked by the appearance of his rival. Inſtead of this, which is the reading of the quarto 150), the line, in the quarto, 1599, is thus corruptly f 2X exhibited : : And fire end fury be my denied now !” , MW in the ſubſequent quarto copy and was ſubſtituted for ; end; and accordingly in the folio the poet's fine i nagery s entirely loſt, and Romeo exclaims, f And fire and fury be my conduct now!“ The other inſtance in the ſame play is not leſs ke remarkable. In the quarto, 1 599, the Friar, addreſſing 1 Romeo, is made to ſay, Thou puts up thy fortune, and thy love.“ for | The editor of the folio perceiving Here a groſs cor- tuption, ſubſtituted theſe words: | Thou putteft up thy fortune, and thy love ;”” to, Wnot perceiving that up was a miſprint for upon, and puts for pouts, (Which according to the ancient mode was written inſtead of pow?'ft,) as he would have found by looking into another copy without a date, and as he might have conjectured from the correſponding line Win the original play 88 in 1597, had he ever ex- amined it: « Thou frown'/? upon thy fate, that ſmiles on a thee.” So little known indeed was the value of the early impreſſions of books, (not reviſed or corrected by their authours,) that King Charles the Firſt, though a great admirer of our poet, was contentelf with the Jud Vor. I. Part I. b folio \ b 7 pls | ine ted Ore — — n 2 —— 22. —— — PET = > —— _ — Poo AIDE 2 „ a — — * — — — — — _ — — were made by accident or caprice. Where, however, the errour was implicit ly adopted” by D*Avenant. | XVI N RB ſolio edition of his plays, unconſcious of the numerous miſrepreſentations and interpolations by which every page of that copy is disfigured; and in a volume of the quarto plays of Beaumont and Fletcher, which formerly belonged to that king, and is now in my col- lection, I did not find a ſingle firſt impreſſion. In like manner Sir William D' Avenant, when he made his alteration of the play of Macbeth, appears to have * the third folio printed in 1664. The various readings found in the different impreſ⸗ ſions of the quarto copies are frequently mentioned by the late editors: it is obvious from what has been already ſtated, that the firſt edition of each play is alone of any authority , and accordingly to no other have I paid any attention. All the variations in the ſubſequent quartos there are two editions printed in the ſame year, or an undated copy, it is neceſſary to examine each of them, becauſe which of them was firſt, can not be aſcertained; and being each printed from a manuſcript, they carry with them a degree of authority to which a re- impreſſion cannot be entitled. Of the tragedy of Ang Lear there are no leſs than three copies, varying from each other, printed for the ſame bookicller, and-in the ſame years | I In that 1 being corruptly wore inſtead of aroint, ts | cc Anoint 5 witch , the rumg / fal ronyon cries, 2 Except only in the inſtance of Romeo and Juliet, where 3 the firſt copy, printed in 1597, appears to be an imperfe& ſketch, and therefore cannot be entirely relied on. Vet even this fur- niſnes many valuable corrections of the more perfect copy of i hat tragedy in its rms ſtate, PEI in 1599, 2 3 kWHFAGE wn 1 Of all the plays of which there are no quarto copies | extant, the firſt folio, printed in 1623, is the only 13 edition. | $ An opinion has been entertained by FO: that = 4 the ſecond impreſſion of that book, publiſhed in I © 1632, has a ſimilar claim to authenticity. Who- ever has any of the folios, (ſays Dr. Johnſon,) das all, excepting thoſe diverſities which mere re- iteration of editions will produce. I collated them 2 all at the beginning, but afterwards uſed only the firſt, from which (he afterwards adds,) the ſubſequent folios never differ but by accident or negligence.” Mr. Steevens, however, does not ſubſctibe to this opinion. The 7 J w- 22 edition of 1632, (lays that gentleman,) is not without value; for though it be in ſome places more incorrectly. printed than the preceding one, it has likewiſe the 1 7 advantage of various readings, which are not 7 „ Each as re-iteration of copies will naturally produce,” XZ What Dr. Johnſon has ſtated; is not quite accurate. The ſecond folio does indeed very frequently differ from the firſt by negligence. or chance; but much more f requently by the editor's profound ignorance of our poet's phraſeology and metre, in conſequence of which there is ſcarce a Page of the, book which is not disfigured by the capricious alterations introduced by the perſon to whom the care of that impreſſion was Nentruſted. This perſon in fat, whoever he was, and Mr. Pope, were the two great corrupters of our poet's text; and I have no doubt that if the arbitrary Waltcrations introduced by theſe two editors were numbered, in the plays of which no quarto copies are extant, they would greatly exceed all the carruptions b 2 | and xx P R E F A C k. and errours of the preſs in the original and only authen- tick copy of thoſe plays. Though my judgment on this ſubject has been formed after a very careful examination, I cannot expect that it ſhould be received on my mere aſſertion: and therefore it is neceſſary to ſubſtantiate it by proof. This cannot be effected but by a long, minute, and what I am afraid will ap- pear to many, an unintereſting diſquiſition: but let it ſtill be remembered that to aſcertain the genuine text of theſe plays is an object of great importance. On a reviſion. of the ſecond folio printed in 1632, it will be found, that the editor of that book was en- tirely ignorant of our poet's phraſeology and metre, and that various alterations were made by him, in con- ſequence of that ignorance, which render his cdition of no value whatſoever. I. His ignorance of Shakſpeare's ner IS proved by the following among many other inſtances. He did not know that the double negative was the - cuſtomary and authorized language of the age of Queen Elizabeth, and therefore, inſtead of — Nor to her bed no homage do I owe.” — oy Comedy of Errors, Act III. Fo Th he printed —*« Nor to her bed à homage do I owe.” So, in As you lite it, Act II. fe. iv. inſtead of — ] can not go no further”, he penned... « I can 89 no further.“ In Much ado DER ae Act I II, ſc, i * H. er0, : ſpeaking of Beatrice, . W „ there will ſhe hide her, Heir aol « To liſten our propoſe.” mir} ba N ©; Bas » 93 7 NY =. 1 : 25 * N ” 1 OY : 0 2 75 g b N E I A W for which the ſecond folio ſubſtitutes— there will the hide her, « To liſten 7 our purpoſe.” 1 Again, in The Winter's Tale, Act I. ſc. ii. Thou doſt make poſſible, things not ſo held.“ 1 The plain meaning is, thou doſt make thoſe things poſſible, which are held to be impoſſible. But the 9 editor of the ſecond folio, not underſtanding the line, reads FE 8 J FThou doſt make poſſible things not to be ſo held; "Is 1 i. e. thou doſt make thoſe things to be eſteemed im- pooſſible, which are poſſible: the very reverſe of what the poet meant. In the ſame play is this line: « Tam appointed him to murder) you.” : 9 Here the editor of the ſecond folio, not being converſant with Shakſpearc's irregular language, reads 4 I appointed him to murder you.“ N Again, in Macbeth: - « This diamond he greets your wife withal, By the name of moſt kind —— and ſhut up == « In meaſureleſs content.“ Not knowing that ſhut up meant concluded, the editor 1 ol the ſecond folio reads and ſhut it up [1. 8 the diamond] 60 — meaſureleſs content.“ 5 In the ſame play the word Jated, (% Now ſpurs the 3 © ated traveller—”) not being underſtood, 1s changed 4 gn. and Colmes-Inch to Colmes-Hill. . US Again, xxii PREFACE Again, tbidem : when Macbeth ſays, „Hang thoſh _ that talk of fear,” it is evident that theſe words are not a wiſh or imprecation, but an injunction to hang all the cowards in Scotland. The editor of the ſecond folio, I, conſidering the paſſage in the former Light, F 70 . them that Hand i in fear l } From the ſame ignorance, - g And all our yeſterdays have lighted fools 1 The way to duſty death.“ | 3 : '2 is changed to And all our yeſterdays have lighted fools « The way to fudy death. | 1 In X. Richard II. Bolingbroke ſays, --. « And I miſt find that title in your tongue,” &. i. e. you muſt addreſs me by that title. But this not being underſtood, ou, is in the ſecond folio ſubRituted 9 for tongue. 32 The double comparative i is common in the plays of Shakſpeare. Yet, inſtead of cc I'll give my reaſons « More worthier than their voices.” Coridlanus, Act III. ſe. i. Firſt F olio. we have in the ſecond copy, 0 More worthy than their voices. 1 So, in Othello, Act I. ſc. v.— opinion, a ſovereig miſtreſs of effects, throws a more ſafer voice on you,” : 4 —is changed in the ſecond folio, to“ e &c. 1 throws a more ſafe voice on Jou.“ = | = Again. . 8 TE bes REF xxiii Again, in Hamlet, Act III. fc. ii. inſtead of —* your wiſdom ſhould ſhew itſelf more richer, to ſignify this to the doctor; we find in the copy of 1632, © — your 2 wiſdom ſhould ſhew itſelf more rich,“ &c. In The Winter's Tale, the word vaſy not being under- flood, « they ſhook hands as over a 54. Firſt Folio. we find in the ſecond copy, © —as over a vaſt ſea.” In K. John, AQ V. ſc. v. firſt folio, are theſe lines: « — The Engliſh lords « By his perſuaſion are again fallen off.” The editor of the ſecond folio, thinking, I ſuppoſe, that as theſe lords had not before deſerted the French king, it was improper to ſay that they had again fallen off, ſubſtituted ** —are at laſt falledoff;” not perceiv- ing that the meaning is, that theſe lords had gone back again to their own n whom they had before deſerted. In K. Henry VIII. Act II. fc. ii. Norfolk ſpeaking of Wolſey, ſays, © I'll venture one have at him.” This being miſunderſtood, is changed in the ſecond Copy to I'll venture one heave at him.“ Julius Ceſar likewiſe furniſhes various ſpecimens C 1 of his ignorance of Shakſpeare's language. The phraſe, to bear hard, not being underſtood, inſtead of— «« Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæſar hard.” F irſt Folio. — we find in the ſecond COPY), « Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæſar hatred,” ; b 4 | and xxiv FN TTC and * the ſame cauſe the words dank, Bleſt, and hurtled, are diſmiſſed from the text, and more familiar words ſubſtituted in their room 3. In like manner in the third act of 1 ſc. ii. the ancient verb to oe, i. e. to poſſeſs, is diſcarded by this editor, and oꝛon ſubſtituted in its place. In Antony and Cleopatra, we find in the original

1 „ 3 P-R-E Fr ACE __- WP | urſelf; or, in other words, availed yourſelf of that unaptneſs as an excuſe for your own conduct. The words being inverted and put out of their natural order, te editor of the ſecond folio ſuppoſed that unaprneſs, being placed firſt, muſt be the nominative caſe, and therefore reads « And that unaptneſs made You miniſter, « Thus to excuſe yourſelf.” In that play, from the ſame ignorance, inſtead of = Timon's exhortation to the thieves, to kill as well as 3 | and exhibits the other line thus: rob. —“ Take wealth and lives together, we find in the ſecond copy,“ Take wealth, and /ive together.“ And with equal ignorance and licentiouſneſs this editor altered the epitaph on Timon, to render it what he thought metrical, by leaving out various words. In the A original edition it appears as it does in Plutarch, and therefore we may be certain that the variations in the ſecond copy were here, as in other places, all arbitrary and capricious. 15 Again, in the ſame play, we have I defil'd land.“ = and— O, my good lord, the world is but a 29rd,” &c. The editor not underſtanding either of theſe paſſages, and ſuppoſing that 7 in the firſt of them was uſed as a perſonal pronoun, (whereas it ſtands according to the © uſage of that time for the affirmative PRs a. reads in the firſt line, « deſy land;” O my W * On N N 55 . * » 4 0 : \ . xxvi PRE: . % O, my good lord, the world is but a world,” &c. Our authour and the contemporary writers generally write wars, not war, &. The editor of the fecond folio being unappriſed of this, reads in Anlony and Cleopatra, Act III. fc. v.“ Cæſar having made uſe of him in the war againſt Pompey, — inſtead of Wars, the reading of the original copy. The ſeventh ſcene of the fourth act of this play concludes with theſe words: © Diſpatch. —Enobar- bus!” Anthony, who is the ſpeaker, deſires his attend- ant Eros to diſpatch, and then pronounces the name Enobarbus, who had recently deſerted him, and whoſe Joſs he here laments. But there being no perſon on the ſcene but Eros, and the point being inadvertently omitted after the word diſpatch, the editor of the ſecond folio ſuppoſed that Enobarbus muſt have been an errour of the preſs, and therefore reads ; oy Diſpatch, Eras.” | In Troilus and Creſſida, Creſſida ſays, Things won are done ; Jays ſoul lies in the doing. i. e. the ſoul of joy lies, &c. So, t love's viſible ſoul,” and © my ſoul of counſel ;** expreſſions likewiſe uſed by Shakſpeare. Here alfo the editor of the ſecond folio exhibits equal ignorance of his authour ; for inſtead of this eminently beautiful expreſſion, he has given us— « Things won are done; he or ou” s Joy lies 1 in do- | in g” 1 King Richard III. Ratclif, addrefling the lords at at Pornfret, ſays, 5 | : | 6 Make # P RE FF A © Xxxvii « Make haſte, the hour of death is expiate.” for which the editor of the ſecond folio, alike ignorant of the poet's language and metre, has ſubſtituted, | « Make haſte, the hour of death is now expir d. So, in Romeo and Fuliet : « The earth hath ſwallow'd all my hopes but ſhe.” The word The being accidentally omitted in the firſt folio, the editor of the ſecond ke the defect by reading _ Earth hath 2% fwallow'd a all my hopes but ſhe. Again, i in the fame play: « I'Il lay fourteen of my teeth, and yet, to my teen be it ſpoken, I have but four: not underſtanding the word feen, he ſubſtituted teeth inſtead of it. Again, ibidem: * Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid—” Man being corruptly printed inſtead of maid in the 1 firſt folio, 1623, the editor of the ſecond, who never examined a ſingle quarto copy #, corrected the errour at random, by reading cc Frick d from the lazy fi of a woman.” J a 4 That this editor never examined: any of the wears copies, is proved by the following inſtances : f. ow M1445 08 7 __ * 431 „ 7 9 es, 1 © 1 1 N | hes 3 3 3 N NES * xa e 3 TK of „ . * £ S N A+. 224% x £1 88 45 3 4 a a 40 7 * „ * 4 Es 3 4 = . : 5 7 In Troilus and Creffida, we find in the firſt folio, 4 the remainder viands «© We do not throw in unreſpeRive fame, © Becauſe we now are full.“ Finding this nonſenſe, he printed “ in une de Place.“ In the quarto he would have found the true word eve. 4 5 Again, — — — ͤ —ükz a— 2 + 46 74 — — RT —— P R E F A C E. Again: Doſt thou love me? I know thou wilt ſay, ay:*” The word me being omitted in the firſt folio, the editor XXV11L of the ſecond capriciouſly ſupplied the metre thus: | thus: Poſt thou love? O, I know thou wilt ſay, ay. Again, in the * play, the following lines are thus cor- ruptly exhibited : «© That all the Greeks begin to worſhip Ajax; 3 6e Since things in motion begin to catch the eye, 4% Than what not ſtirs.“ the words“ begin to, being adveticaty repeated in the ſecond line, by the compolitor's eye glancing on the line above. The editor of the ſecond folio, inſtead of examining the quarto, where he would have found the true reading, & Since things in motion ſooner catch the eye, thought only of amending the metre, and printed the line & Since things in motion *gzz to catch the eye leaving the paſſage nonſenſe, as he ane it. So, in Titus Andronicus: & And let no comfort delight mine ear being erroneoufly printed in the firſt folio, inſtead of And let no comforter,” &c. the editor of the ſecond folio corrected the errour according to his fancy, by reading— &« And let no comfort elſe delight mine ear.“ So, in Lowe's Labour's Loft, Vol. II. p. 369: © Old Man- tuan, who underſtands thee not, loves thee not. The words in the Italick character being inadvertently omitted in the firſt folio, the editor of the ſecond folio, inſtead of applying to the quarto to cure the defect, printed the paſſage juſt as he found it: and in like manner in the ſame play implicitly followed | | | - "the This ney + 4 bo Bo. d * 4485 8 5 Ik ; 2 cf vp Fr. 72 © 2 » Bs b 1 n pr EE FACE xxix This expletive, we ſhall preſently find, when I come > to ſpeak of our poet's metre, was his conſtant expedi- ent in all difficulties. In Meaſure for Meaſure he printed ignominy inſtead of ignomy, the reading of the firſt folio, and the com- F mon language of the time. In the ſame play, from his ignorance of the conſtable's humour, he corrected Fo phraſeology, and ſubſtituted inſtant for diſtant; (© at Y | that very diſtant time:) and in like manner he makes the errour of the firſt folio, which has been already men- = tioned, « O, that your face were ſo full of 0's—" ſons the omiſſion of the word not, which is. found in the | quarts, made the paſlage nonſenſe, So, in Much ado about Nothing, « And I will break with her. Was't not to this end,” &c. being printed inſtead of. « And I will break with her and with her father, & And thou ſhalt have her. Was t not to this end,” &c, | the errour, which aroſe from the compoſitor's eye glancing from | 5 one line to the other, was implicitly adopted in the ſecond folio. Again, in A Midſummer's-Night's Dream : « Ah me, for aught that I could ever 1295 | % Could ever bear c. L | the words Ab me being accidentally omitted in the firſt folio, 3 SE f vi 5 I p © inſtead of applying to the quarto for the true reading, he ſup- © plied the defect, according to his own fancy, thus: Hermia, for aught that I could ever read, &c.. Again, in The Merchant of Venice he arbitrarily gives us The ewe bleat for the lamb win you be bold, a inſtead of ö vat 1 10 ande 40 2 1 « Why be hath made the 6 ewe mbleariforche lamb.““ | See p. xxxi. Innumerable other inſtances of the 45 kind aht be produced, Dogberry | | | [| | r Dogberry in Much ado about nothing, exhort the watch not to be vigilant, but vigilant. Among the marks of love, Roſalind in As you Ne i mentions a beard: neglected, which you have not; — but J pardon you for that; for, ſimply, your Jang in beard is a younger brother's revenue.“ Not under- ſtanding the meaning of the word having, this editor reads your having 79. beard,” &c. In 4 Midſummer Night's Dream, Pyramus ſays, « I fee a voice; now will I to the chink, «« To ſpy an' I can hear my Thiſby's face.“ Of the humour of this paſſage he had not the leaſt notion, for he has printed, inſtead of it, I hear a voice; now will I to the chink, . To ſpy an' I can ſee my Thiſby's face. In The Merchant Venice, Act I. ſc. i i. we find i in the firſt folio, And out of doubt you do more wrong which the editor of the ſecond perceivin g to be 1 imper- fe&, he corrected at random thus: « And out of doubt you do to me more wrong.” : Had he conſulted the original quarto, he would have found that the poet wrote 40 And out of doubt you do me noꝛo more wrong,” So, in the ſame play,—< But F mine, then yours,“ being cormptly printed inſtead of“ But 7 mine, then yours,” this editor arbitrarily reads But firſt © mine, then yours, Again, © | FN XXIII a Again, ibidem : Or even as well uſe queſtion with the wolf, ; The ewe bleat for the lamb.” 1 the words VM hy he hath made being omitted in the firſt folio at the beginning of the ſecond line, the ſecond x folio editor ſupplied the defect thus abſurdly : « Or even as well uſe queſtion with the wolf, « The ewe bleat for the lamb when you behold.” In Othello the word ſnipe being miſprinted in the firſt 7 folio, « Tf T ſhould time expend with ſuch a /ape.” 1 the editor not knowing what to make of it, ſubſtituted = /wain inſtead of the corrupted word, Again, in the ſame play, % F;r of my heart thoſe charms, thine eyes, are W blotted.” being printed in the firſt folio inſtead of—* Forth of my heart, &c. which was the common language of the time, the editor of the ſecond folio; amended. the cxrour 1 according to his fancy, by reading For of my heart thoſe charms, thine eyes, are Again, in the ſarhe play, AQ V. ſe. i. not under- ſttanding he phraſeology of our authour's time, « Who's there? Whoſe noiſe i is this, that cries on murder? he ſubſtituted Whole noiſe is this, that cries out 1 mur- der?“ and in the firſt act of the ſame play, not perceiving the force of an eminently beautiful epithet, for“ deſarts ale, he has given us © — deſarts wild.” Again, *r FN FT ESE 8 08 in that tragedy we fina— W rte © — what charms, Wn I „What conjuration, and W "Oy « (For ſuch proceeding I am charg d n 5 « I won his daughter. 3 | 2 chat is, I won his daughter with; F and: Fo the ito of 3' the ſecond folio reads, not knowing that this kind of 1 elliptical expreſſion frequently occurs in this authours - works, as I have ſhewn in a note on the inſt ſcene: f . Gymbeline, and in other places. 0 In like manner he bas corrupted the following Z paſſage i in A Midſummer-Night's Dream: : 158 1 « So will I grow, ſo live, ſo die, my lord, 3 « Ere I will yield my virgin patent up KH « Unto his lordſhip, whoſe unwifhed yoke 3 My foul conſents not to give ſovereignty,” - = 1. e. to give ſovereignty 1 Here too this editor haz unneceſſarily tampered with the text, and having con- "i 'S tracted the word unwiſhed,. he exhibited the line thus? « Unto his lordſhip, 7 hoſe unwiſh'd yoke | | 5 My. ſoul conſents not to Sire fovercignty.” an interpolation which was adopted in the ſubſequent = copies, and which, with all the modern editors, I in- cautiouſly ſuffered to remain in the preſent edition 5. 1 The grave- digger in Hamlet obſerves that your ta- ner will laſt you nine hear, and ſuch is the phraſeology which ee Ne attributes te his lower 3 See Vol. VIII. p- 472, n. 33 vol. VII. 7.126 n. 114 and; Vol. IX. p. 469, n. 3. 6 See Vol. X. Appendix, p. 57. — . — e ix AY TW WS $79, — Me OY, FIN $$ R bs We of PREFACE _ cCharacters; but inſtead of this, in * ſecond folio, we 2 | find—* nine years. ; « Your {kill ſhall, like a ſtar i'the darkeſt * «« Stick firy off indeed, — ſays Hamlet to Laertes. But the editor of the 7 ſecond folio, conceiving, I ſuppoſe, that if a ſtar appear- ed with extraordinary ſcintillation, the night muft = neceſſarily be luminous, reads“ 1” the brighteſt night: and, with equal ſagacity, not acquieſcing in Edgar's notion of © ' four-inch” d bridges, this editor has furniſhed him with a much ſafer paſs, for he reads. four-arch'd bridges. 15 4 Henry VIII. are theſe lines: If we did think cM 3 contemplation were above the earth,. — Not underſtanding this phraſeology, and ſuppoſing that 1 en require a noun in the plural number, he reads: If we did think « His contemplations were above the earth, Kc. YZ Again, in Troilus and Creſſida, Act IV. ſc. ii. « With wings more mementary-fwift than thought, 3 9 This compound epithet not being underſtood, he reads: „ With wings more — fwifier than thought.“ | In The Taming of the Shrew, AEtI. . ii. Hank 10, deſcribing Catharine, ſays, Her only fault (and that is—faults enough) « Is,—that ſhe is intolerable curlt ;—* meaning, that this one was a hoft of faults. But this not being comprehended by the editor of the ſecond Vot, ; $ PART Fo ” C | folio, * xxxiv P R E F A C Ev folio, with a view, doubtleſs, of rendering the paſſage more grammatical, be nm * Tand that! is 8 enough. 15 gol, ede So, in K. Lan, we W994 ha. you ee this noble gentleman ?*” But this editor ſuppoſing, it ſhould ſeem, that a gentleman could not be noble, or that a noble could not be a gentleman, inſtead of the PFiginal 4 text, reads Do you know this nobleman? In Meaſure for Meaſure, Act II. ſc. W "Ng ad- dreſſing the Juſtice, ſays, *© I pray you home to dinner with me: this familiar diction. nat being .under- ſtood, we find in the ſecond folio, « I pray you | go * home to dinner with me.” And in Othello, not having ſagacity enough to ſee that apines was printed bye a mere tranſpoſition of the letters, for r Paines, 8 44 Though I do hate him, as I do hell 4 apines,” m— inſtead of correQing the words he-evaded the difficulty by 1 The Duke of l, in the W lune 77 exclaims, hana 10 abe « That face of his the hun canniba he ae C „ Would not have . 2 oof not have Rain'd : with. blogd.” ik DER eb tics "Theſe lines being thus careleſsly : arrar ged. in the fiſt folio, e of Na e ... « The hungry cannibal would: not have rouch'd, " Woul not have ſtain'd with blood—” = the ene of "the ſecond tolio, leaving the firſt line 1 im- - perfect as he found it it, completed the laſl line by this | 1 abſurd interpolation : : 3 40 ; + ould not have ſtain 'd the ns juft with bloc d. 1 _ e Tec 1 1 » - = I _—_— . 1 97 1 * 1 Y 3 8 1 I -%F * $ e 1 Ta * 1 NE F Al Cl E. xxxv Thnheſe are but a few of the numerous corruptions [i and interpolations found in that copy, from the editor's ? © Ignorance of Shakſpeare's phraſeology. 15 II. Let us now examine how far he was acquainted with the metre of theſe plays. In The Winter's Tale, Act III. fc. ii. we find— _ « What wheels? racks ? fires ? what flaying i ? boil- . 4% In leads, or pils?ꝰ — 3 3 Noe knowing that fires was uſed as a aithlable, he added the word birning at th end of the line: «© What wheels? racks ? tices? what flaying? boil- 1 8 ing! burning 3 1 So again, in Julius Caſar, AQ UI. ſc. ii. from the ſame ignorance, the word all has been interpolated by this 7 editor: « And with the brands fire all the traitors? houſes.” | ; inſtead of the reading of the original and authentick copy, 3 % And with the brands fre tlie traitors houſes.” Again „ in Macbeth: „ would, while it was ſmiling i in my face, « Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneleſs gums, And daſh'd the brains out, had 1 fo ſworn, « As you have done to this“. F ot perceiving that ſworn was uſed as a diſable, he 1 $578 * . | Weads “ had I but fo ſworn.” XZ Charms our poet ſometimes uſes as a 2 WY two 901 3 ables. Thus, in The Tempeſt, Act I. ſe. ii. | „ Curs'd be I, that did ſo! All the c haue dee ſtead of which this editor gives us, TENT OE “ Curs'd be I, that I did ſo! All the 1 &c. e rear in 75985 1 fonud no leſs than teventy-/fix words omitted, xxxvi PRO EYF A CY E- Hour is almoſt always uſed by Shakſpeare ag, a diſſyllable, but of this the editor of the ſecond folio, was ignorant; for inſtead of theſe lines in King Richard 11. , 6c So ſighs, and tears, and groans, E « Shew minutes, times, and Haurs: but my time... * a on, 3 & . 1f Nit eon 3 e gives 1 —_ 3 285 ſighs, and a AE, Rn ere: Y 5 A minutes, times, and Haften 0 but wy % time 7, Ke fm 21 bi E 1 1 4 I 15 LW "Sag, in The Comedy Nef ,303tba 4 « T'11 meet you in that place ſome hour, 5 ir, hence,” - of the original „ Þ « T'll meet you in that _—_ ſome hour hence. W 5e = | 7 In | Meaſure for W. we find theſe lines : : | 7 ny Thou! pb with'thy mr and Werne bolt, IS . < Splitt the unwedgeable and gnarled oak * Than thy ſoft mirtle,;—But mans, proud man,” &c. There can be no doubt that a w Fa was-omitted in thg laſt b line; perhaps ſome "epithet" to rtl But the editor of the 8 frond folis, reſorting tens ufull expedient, abſardly' reads: 9 e Thau the ſoft mirtle. O but man, proud man, — So, in 77 itus Androncus, Act III 75 ks 4 ii. complaynet being Hh corruptly printed i in cad of complainer, # £y * e e Login laſh thy thoughts, this editor, wit h equal a abſurdit ty, rende N = c Speechleſs cmpiuint, O I Gill Hearn hy thoughts. * I have 3 andigain had occaſion to mention in tlie notes on, aſt a een is of all the errors ofthe pre * that "hick- uently happens. On collating the fourth "F edition of Ning Richard 1. printed in 1612, with the fecond Y | f hs Again, . 1 Again, in in The Winter's Tale, Act TN. ii. 40 vifhing clocks more N „Hours, mi unter the noon, midi ight? and all ? eyes, & c. Y Þ inſtead of the original er Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes,” e. 15 Again „in All's well that ends well, Act II. ſc. iii. 9 „ Which challenges itſelf as honours born, 5 þ And is not like the fre. Honours thrive,” &c. y his editor, not knowing that fire was uſed as a, diffyl- 85 Wable, reads: , And is not like the ſire, Zona beſt thine,” e. So, in K. Henry, II. PE,. J. Ii os ein 114 »» | 8 i KReſcued is Orleans from the Engl. 1h.” 5 : Not knowing that Engliſh was uſed! as a vihhllable, he Y 1 das completed the line, which he ſuppoſed RE, ; 3 en to his o] fancy, and reads? A « Reſcu'd is Orleans from the * Engliſh eber. 5 5 F q The ſame play furniſhes us with. various other proofs. i We bis: ignorance of our poet's. metre. Thus, inſtead. of = <« Orleans the baſtard; Charles, Burgundy— 4 > has printed (not knowing that Charles was uſed 45 1 | 4 1 ord of two ſyllables,) Y 4 Orleans the baſtard, Charles, and Burgu = 1 Rf So, inſtead of the original 1rading 21. tote! 19992 > * 3 s Divineſt creature, Aſtraza's daughter; : 2/4 7 „ being uſed as a word of three & $1408). he bas „ 00 « Divineſt creature, bright ! * 08 * Nn KY „ 43 35 11 s daughter. 7 Henry to be uſed as a a tiſyllable, gives us, XXXVIii P R E F A C E. Again, ibidem :' { nl 25 «« Whereas the contrary trkngerh viſe”. Not knowing that contrary was uſed as a word of four ſyllables, he reads: ei ur be. WWhereas the contrary bringeth forth bliſs.” So ſure is uſed in the ſame play, as a * : 40 Gloſter, we'll meet ; 3 to thy colt, be ſure.” but this editor, not aware of this, reads: | « Gloſter, we'll meet; to thy dear colt, be ſure,” Again, in K. Henry 2 . And ſo to arms, victorious father, — arms being uſed as a diſſyllable. But the ſecond folio 3 reads : 4 « And ſo to arms, victorious noble father.“ Again, in Twelft h-Night, AQ * ſc. i. we find — when liver, brain, and heart, v Theſe ſovereign thrones, are all ſupply d, and fil 'd, 23 (Her ſweet perſections) with one ſelf-king.” for which the editor, not knowing that perfeGions Was uſed as a quadriſyllable, has ſubſlituted— „% Ihen liver, brain, and heart, I 40 Theſe ſoyereign thrones, are all ſupply'd, and fill d, (Her ſweet perfections) with $9: ſame a Again, i in K. Henry VI. P. II. « Prove fit, Henn, and thou ſhalt be king x: x | for which the editor of the ſecond folio, not "ERA | « But © in the metre, reads: * D NH N R , xi « But prove it, Henry, and thou ſhalt be king.“ In like manner due is uſed by Shakſpeare/as a tri- d ; ' ſyllable 3 in The Two,Gentlemen of | Verona; 3 Act II. ſc. iv. And that hath dazzled my reaſon's light. 5 #Z inſtead of which, we find in the ſecond folio, / 7 And that hath dazzled fo my reaſon's light.. The words neither, rather, &c. are frequently uſed by E Shakſpeare as words of one ſyllable. So, in K. Howe VI. P. III. And neither by treaſon, nor hoſtility, I Toſeck to put me down—” 1 for which the editor of the ſecond folio has ! us Neither by treaſon, nor hoſtility,” Kk. In Timon of Athens, Act III. ſc. v. Alcibiades | « Is this the balſam, that the uſuring ſenate = «< Piurs into captains? wounds? baniſhment ?” Þ The editor of the ſecond folio, not knowing that pours was uſed as a diffyIable , to complete the ſuppoſed defect 1TH 44 CLEFT AF Js this the balſam, that the ulüring ſenate « Pours into captains' wounds! H baniſhmen! 5 Tictled is often uſed by Shakſpeare and the contem- porary poets, as a word of 10 FNables. So, in K. Henry VI. P. II. e | » She's /iclied now; her fume' we no ſpurs?” inſtead of which, in the ſecond folio we have - = She's rang a her ee ane noi = 1 0 K 4 8 A8 baty df Zo, OY in Titus Andronicus, Act II. ſc. i. « Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. * This editor, not knowing that worn Was "uſed | as a diſſyllable, reads: « Better than he have yet worn Vulcan' s badge.” Again, in Cymbeline, Act II. fc. v. a1 _«« All faults that game, nay, that hell knows,why hers, « In part, or all; but rather all: for even to vice,” &c. Theſe lines being thus careleſsly diſtributed in the original copy,— 46 We faults that name, nay, that hell "oY 8 hy hers, in part, or all; but rather all:“ &c. the . of the ſecond folio, to ſupply the defect of 4 the firſt, line, arbitrarily reads, with equal i ignorance of 1 his author's metre and phraſcology, * Al] faults that; may be - named, 1 nay, that hell knows : 'F « Why hers,” Kc. 1511: t 118 «#435 7 In K. Henry IV. P. II. AQ I. fe. ii., ue "a 20 184 « And being now trimm d in thine own deſires, — inſtead of which the editor of the ſecond | folio, to re- 1 medy a ſuppoſed defect in the metre, has 8 given us— 646 And . MPR md up. in Sip, on. de. ſires.— Mie WIT} fl. Ae in As you like it, Act II. fe, i. he pierceth through 5 : The body of city, country, courty—?? + . | inſtead of which we find in the ſecond folio, (the os 1 1 * knowing that country was uſed as a riſyllable,) he il Pres AER 6 94 Ws 7 Sf * . 1 1 — — S, . * "© 41 ® 25 A : SE: » © b. 4 k 2 7 P R E F A Ci E. xls « — he pieiceth through nar nk. n « The body of city, the country, 1 1 In like manner, in The UL nter” Tale, Acc J. &. i. be | ti: : s given us: _ »2baor slash Wc we knew not A 4 « The doctrine of ill-doing, na nor ee . 1 * any did: 5 Nr” x «FE 1 Preſſing Pc Pe its, fay Y Rararin being uſed as a word of three ſyllables. : chan of Venice, $3) 4 AS; 55 * _ " * 0 : F 2 X L * M 4 X 4 k - 4 S * {inf . 5 $ W . 4 , - * # * „r * x = * 4 _s we knew not _ * 22 « The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreatt' d, Kc. T9 « Pay him ſix thouſand,” &c. ſays Portia, i in n The Mer- « Before a friend of ao aol; tion. 4 : \ , 7 « Should loſe a hair through | Baſfanio' s fault.“ 1 ne word hair being, uſed as a diſſyllaple, or Baſſanis Sas a quadriſyſlable. Of this the editor of the ſecond oo was wholly os, * therefore reads: & Jr |. 13 Should loſe a haic through » my Þ Baſlanio! J kaut. 11 Ano Brits ns bm. gane 4 In De Winter's $ Tale, Act V. be. il. Flotizel ad- Rom In an Bob © Joqq: i & YOM 15 — my deſires 2 F 1 A % Run not before mine e Honour; nor my fits | I E « Burn hotter than my faith.“ , K | XIE 7 = To complete the laſt hermiltick, y BS ta is m Ss to = 3 eply, 1800 1 619901 IC 511 — | « () but, ſir, ug go VID to (boa Au e Your 3 clic, lo hoer 3 Pee 3 this edito? betrays AS" RrotandE* of Shak! 1 _- ſpeare's : ͤĩ —— ˙ ——— _ P R E HA C K. . s metre; for not mw, burn was uſed as a gi 48 he reads— | : Dy blood} un O but, dear ſir,” Geet „eee eee Again, in King Henry VIII. Act II. [c. iii. the Old Lady declares to Anne Boleyn, | « bs 3 ſtrange; 2 three-pence bow'd would hire me, « Old as I am, to queen it.” But inſtead of this, hire not being perceived 1 to! be uſed I as a word of two ſyllables, we find in the ſecond folio, 1 es 'Tis ſtrange; a three-pence bow'd 7 now would 5 2 hire me,” &c. This editor, indeed, was even W 0 d the Oey we rk, 4 - Spirits, which by n mine art « have from their conf ine calld to o enact 66 My preſent fancies, 8 he exhibits the ſecond line 8 r I have from al their eanfnes call d to end, *. Again, in K. Lear, Act II. ſc. i i. inſtead 0. „To have the expence and waſte of his revenues, — the latter word, being, I ſuppoſe, differently accented 4 after « our N death, "the mound of the ſecond folio has # 0 e have the pl and Halte of cEvues.® 3 Various other inſtances of the ſame kind might be 1 e hh that I may not AH E readers, I will pr 3 1484 1 4 a manner of accenting words, for i in The 7. APIs where | A p R E F A C E. xIiii 8 | 7 . add, that no perſon who wiſhes to peruſe the plays 1 9 Jof Shakſpeare ſhould ever open the Second Folio, or either yo! the ſubſequent copies, in which all theſe capricious _ i d End innovations. 5 4 eare of ſuperviſing the ſecond folio was conſigned, ſhould have been thus ignorant of our poet's language: d 23 but it ſhould be remembered, that in the beginning of the reign of Charles the Firſt many words and modes d 2 of ſpeech. began to be diſuſed, which had been common zin the age of Queen Elizabeth. The editor of the „ ſecond folio was probably a young man, perhaps born jn the year 1600. That Sir William D'Avenant, who was born in 1605, did not always perfectly underſtand 2X our author's language, is manifeſt from various alte- rations which he has made in ſome of his pieces, The ſucceſſive Chronicles of Englith hiſtory, which were compiled between the years 1540 and 1620, afford indubitable proofs of the .gradual change in our phraſeology during that period. Thus a narrative which Hall exhibits in what now appears to us as very uncouth and ancient diction, is again exhibited by Holinſhed, about forty years afterwards, in ſomewhat a 2X leſs rude form; and in the chronicles of Speed and Baker in 1641 and 1630, aſſumes a ſomewhat more poliſhed in 1587, the editor thought it neceſſary to explain many of the words by placing more familiar terms in the margin though not much more than twenty years had elapſed from the time of their compoſition : ſo rapid vere at that time the changes in our language. 1 My alterations were adopted, with many additional errors It may feem ſtrange, that the perſon to whom the 1 air. In the ſecond edition of Gaſcoigne's Poems printed — — — * Pi R EF A C E My late friend Mr: Tyiwhitt, d man 6f fuch Gan: dour, accuracy, and profound learning, that his" death muſt be conſidered as an irreparable loſs to literature; vvas of opinion, that in printing theſe plays the original ſpelling thould be adhered to, and that we never could be ſure of a perfectly faithful edition, urſleſs the firſt folio: 'copy was made the ſtandard, and actually ſent to the preſs, with ſuch corrections as tlie editor tight think proper. By others it was ſuggeſted, at the notes ſhould hot be ſubjoined to the text, but placed at the end of each volume, and that they ſhould be accompanied by'a complete Gloſſary. * The former ſcheme (that o ſending the firſt folio to the preſs) appeared to me liable to many objections; and I am confident that if the notes were detached from the text, many readers would remain uninformed, rather than undergo the trouble occaſioned by perpetual Aae from one part of a volume to another. In the preſent edition 1 haye,codeayoured to obtain all, the advantages which wauld have-reſultcd from Mr. Tyrwhitt's plan, without any of its inconveniences. Having often experieneect che faflaciouſfieſs of collation | by the eye, I determin&&"after T Had achufted the! text 5 CO the” beſt manner in may poker, 601 Pave "every M8 1 6 the 1 ſheet Uf ty Work ac Aloüs 115 ug peruſ firlt folio, fo ox. thol > Plays ys Which, firſt. appeared in that edition ; 2? 3 for alk; > arr had been previouſly . = printed, the felt: quarto dopy, excepting only i in the x inſtances of Nie Ne ry TV roles of Windſer, And Ning Heu Foowhithi being Either fketches or e | | | . could not be wholly relied on; and "ap ag 7 Richard | > Z l = \ CHEE —— — — FR; . 9 - — 5c pom — — 2 — — = — — — 4 © + - — 27 oo = — wa — — 2 — * — _ — 2 — © SO IO. — —— — "+ - — — — * — * — 8 * —— - _ - zh P REF ACE. 1 note; and every emendation that has been adopted, i: 4 aſcribed to its proper author. When it is conſidered Þ that ge © Reliſßb as truth like us.” 5 317. c Reliſh @ truth like us.” P. 156. 2 10. “ And I beſeech you, hear me, who profeſt—” P. 333 3» « And I beſeech you hear me, who profeſſes—"" P. 362, " 11. © This ſeſſion to our great grief," P. 343. ee This ſeſions to our great grief," P. 150. 32. © The bug which you will fright me with, 1 ſeek „* P. 347 «© The bug which 7ou wwould fright me with, J ſeek.” P. . The old copy reads it. The old copy has Comes. | | - — —— — — — * — py a note, and aſcribed to its author, 9 pl *:% 4M \ at. in the ſame ys we find in the origins! COPY» « Againſt the 7zuoluerable clouds of heaven.” — In K. Henry V. Act V. ſc. ii | „ Corrupting in its own dung. A In Timon of Athens, Act I. ſc. 12. & Come, ſhall we in?“ 1 Thidem : “ Even on their knees, and e. The old copy has band. In Cymbeline, Act III. er. «© The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, Woman its pretty ſelf,” _ . The old copy has ir. 1 It cannot be expected that FRIES mould e encumbere with the notice of ſuch obvious miſtakes of the preſs as ar here enumerated. With the exception of errors ſuch as theſe, whenever any emendation has been adopted, it is mentioned in 3 PRAEPVT AA E. 8 3 & that there are one hundred thoufand lines in theſe plays, i; 4 Sand that it olten was — to conſult ſix or ſeven 2 q ; volumes, W x 3. te You here foal ot apo the > ferred of juſtice, 1 | P. .349- 3 « You here ſhall ſwear upon this ſword of juſtice," 2 ' P. 277. ; 5 „„ © The ſeſſion ſhall proceed. 5 349. 1 « The ſeſions ſhall proceed.” P. 178. 1 1 15. % Mpich you knew great; and to the certain bazard . I „ Of all incertaintias - P. 350, | * 9 . & Which you knew great, and to the 3 5. « Of all incertainties— P. 179. CH 4 — 2 | Soi word was undoubtedly omitted at the preſs ; prov. "Wine in an imperfect Rate, than to adopt the interpolation made yy the editor of the ſecond folio, who has introduced perhaps as unfit a word as could have been choſen. 16. Through my dark ruft! and how his piety—" P. 360, 6. Thorough my ruſt! and how his piety— 1 79. The firſt word of the line is in the old copy by the miſtake of | he compoſitor printed Through . 17. % O but, dear fir,— » P.q75. « O butts A P. 200: 18. Your di ſcontenting father T'll Arive : 7 qualify,” «© Yourdiſcon tenting father ſtrive to qualify," P. 224. „I thought it were not à piece of honefty to acquaint the king withal, I would do it. P. 4. 1 © If I thought it were a piece of honeſty to acquaint 1 the king withal, Tad not do it. P. 229. 25 e, * Doff thou think, for that 1 infnuate or toze p. 402. in . Dot thou think, for that T info ute and toze—" P. 231. vor. r Pak r I. - | 22, © You 3 bly fearful or doubtful ;) but I thought it better to exhibit the P. 401. —— — — «ðꝰ˙ 2j“ cos. Ä— 1 PREFACE volumes, i in order to aſcertain by which of the preced+ ing NN; from as time of the publication of the ” * 4 ” — 23 · 24. 25 · 2. 2 4 Once more to look on n bin. — * ſecond 21. You might * . a thouſand 6 P. 414. * You might have /pokex a thouſand things," P. 235. « Where we offend her now, appear—" P. 417. « Where we offenders now appear P. 237» t Once more to look on. c« Sir, by bis command, — P. 420. So 15 VP. 4 By his command," P. 240. 95 .. (© — ke a aveather-beaten conduit. 8 42 5. 6 — like a weather · bitten conduit.“ P. 246. — 75¹ your ſon-in-law, | & And 1 unto the king, who, bang directing, cc TI; troth-plight to your daughter.” F Bo $370 | = ov 4 66. This your ſan- in- law, 5 5 And ſon unto the king, (whom heavens directing,) . Is wecker to your daughter.“ . 2 75 Ke 1 Ei . e Which fault lies oi on the' Vazard % "TY F. ro. & Which fault lies on the bazards of all huſbands.” F. 451. ce Tig toc 8 1 700 faciable, Fl For our converſng.” P. 14. ET = Tis too reſpective, and too ſociable, For your converſion.” P. 456. * Thus leaning on my elbow, —" P. 16. « Thus leaning on wine elbow,.— P. 457. '& With them a baflard of the king deceas'd. 6s p. * | With them a baſtard of the ing deceas d. P. 464. 1 That thou haft under-wrought its lawful king. P. 26, c * That thou haft under-wrought h lawful . - bL $2 4» Say 4 NEF Ii -” fecond folio, each emendation was made, it will eaſily be believed, that this was not effected without much trouble. : | Whenever 6. * Say, ſhall the current of our right run on? P. 37. . Say, ſhall the current of our right roam on? P. 476. | 7. © And now he feafts, mouthing the fleſb of mien,— * P. 38. * And now he feaſts, ouſing the fleſh of men, 5 P. 477 2. & A greater power - thaw Yew? P. 39. | 1 A greater power than awe—" P. 478. 9. 5f For grief is proud, and males his owner ſtoop.” P. 52, © mou grief is proud, and makes his owner flout.” P. 492. 10. that a nan would ſpeak theſe words to me | 1 P. + 52. « O, that a man ſoould ſpeak theſe words to me!” | P. 497. 11. 4 Ist not amiſs, when it is truly done? P. 64. &« Is not amiſs, when it is truly done. P. 504. Then, in deſpight of broad-ey'd ewatchful day.— P. 72. « Then, in deſpight of brooded watchful day,. — P. 512. 13. % A whole armado of collected fail.” P. 74. 6A whole armado of convicted ſail.” P. 5 14. 4. And bitter ſhame hath oil d the fevcet world's tafte.” FE PF 79. = And bitter ſhame hath ſpoil the ſweet 1 * 530, ns © 4 2 4% Had Th PN N E. N W GA Whenever I mention he od copy in my notes, if the | pay be one originally 55 in en 25 mean the firſt | quarts 17. © Had none, my lord! why, did not you a provole mes? P. 96. 4 Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke me?“ 18. 29. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 46 Againſt the mind, “ P. 565, "K's 536. « Mad'ſt it 20 caſtes to defiroy a king.” P. 97. Made it no conſcience to deſtroy a king.” P. 337+ &« Sir, fir, impatience has its privilege.” P. 102. ce Sir, fir, impatience has his privilege.” P. 541. &« Or, when he doam'd this beauty to the grave. P. 102. 6 Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave, — P. 541+ &« To the yet-unbegotten ſins of time.“ P. 102. cc To the yet-unbegotten fin of times. P. 541, And breathing to this breathleſs excellence, — P. 102. And breathing to 4s breathleſs excellence, — P. * 15 4 your ſupplies, which you bave havin d fo long,— 1. « And your fab. which you have wiſh d ſo jong, — | nf 2 1 os s of 561. &« What's that to 3 FI may on demand—" P. 122. «© What's that to _ ? + I my uot J demand P. 562. Ng o, my Revd PEI NEWS ; fitted t to the night.” P. 223. 4% O, my ſweet fir, news fitting io {he night.” P. 563. % Death, having prey d upon the outward parts, % Leaves them ; inviſible his fiege zs 700 «© Againſt the mind," P. 124. « Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, . « Leaves them inviſible; and his ſiege i 1s now | . 27. * The RR E FFA C E. Iii quarto copy; if the play appeared originally in folio, I mean the firſt folia; and when I mention the old copies, I mean the firſt quarto and firſt folio, which, when that expreſſion is uſed, it may be concluded, concur in the ſame reading. In like manner, the folio always means the firſt folio, and the quarts, the earlieſt quarto, with the exceptions already mentioned. In general, however, the date of each quarto is given, when it is cited. 27. cc The ſalt of them is hot.“ P. 125, „ The falt ia them is hot.” P. 568. Two other reſtorations in this play I have not ſet down: 8 Before we will lay down our juſt-borne armg—"? . and AR II. fc. ii. 40 Be theſe ſad Jigns cc confirmers of thy word.” Act III. ſc. i. becauſe 1 bebte them out on a mes dedabon; It may perhaps be urged that ſome of the variations in theſe liſts, are of no great conſequence; . but to preſerve our poet's genuine text is certainly important; for otherwiſe, as Dr. Johnſon has juſtly obſerved, © the hiſtory of our language will be loſt ;*” and as our poet's words are changed, we are conſtantly in e of loſing his meaning alſo. Every reader muſt wiſh to peruſe what Shakſpeare wrote, ſupported at once by the authority of the authentick copies, and the uſage of his con- temporaries, rather than what the editor of the ſecond folio, or Pope, or Hanmer, or Warburton, have arbitrarily ſubſtituted m its place, SOS Let me not, however, wie. miſunderſtood, All. theſe varia- tions have not been diſcovered by the preſent collation, ſome of them having been pointed out by preceding editors; but ſuch as had been already noticed were merely pointed out: the original readings are now eſtabliſned and ſupported by the uſage of our poet himſelf and that of his contemporaries, and re- ſtored to the text, inſtead of being degraded to the battom of the page. | | d3 N I Jiv E R E E A GC E. Where there are two quarto copies printed in the ſame year, they are particularly ee and the . tions noticed, \ The two great "duties of an editor are, to . op genuine text of his authour, and to explain his obſcurities. Both of theſe objects have been ſo conſtantly betore, my eyes, that, I am confident, one of them will not be found to have been neglected for the other. I can with perfect truth ſay, with Dr. Johnſon, that“ not a fingle paſſage in the whole work has appeared to me obſcure, which I have not endeavoured 10 illuſtrate.” T have examined the notes of all the editors, and my own former remarks, with equal rigour ; and have endea- voured as much as poſſible to avoid all controverſy, _ havi ring conſtantly had in view a philanthropick _ : vation made by the editor above mentioned: know not (ſays that excellent writer) why our a - ſhould, with ſuch implacable : anger, perſecute their pie: | deceſſors. Ot vexpot wn Jaeyeaw, t 52 dead, it IS true, Can make no reſiſtance, they may be attacked with great ſecurity ; but ſince they can neither feel nor mend, the ſafety of mauling them ſeernis greater than the pleaſure : nor perhaps would it much miſbeſeem us to remember, amidſt our trinmphs over the nonſehſical, and the ſenſele eſs, that we likewiſe are men; that debemur + morti, and, as Svriſt obſerved to Burnet, ſhall ſoon be among the dead ourſelies,”| Bs I haue in general given the true explication of a pallie, by whomſoever made, without loading the page with the preceding unſucceſsful attempts at elucidation, and by this means have obtained room for much additional „ EK fory as on the one hand, J truſt very few A TN ly ſuperfluous « or unneceſſary annotations have been admit- ted, ſo on the other, I believe, that not a ſingle valua- ble explication of any obſcure paſſage in theſe plays has ever appeared, which will not be found in the fol- © Towing volumes. The admirers of this poet will, I truſt, not LENS 18 the great acceſſion of new notes in the pre- ent edition, but examine them with ſome degree of pleaſure. | An idle notion has been propagated, that Shakſp peare has been buried under his commentatars ; and it has again and again been repeated by the taſteleſs and R the dull, te that notes, though often neceſſary, are neceſſary evil.“ There is no perſon, I believe, who has an higher reſpect for the authority of Dr. Johnſon than. I have; but he has been milunderſtood, or miſrepreſent- ed, as if cheſe words contained a general caution to all the readers of this poet. Dr. Johnſon, in the part of his preface here alluded to, is addreſſing the young reader, to whom Shakſpeare 1 is new; and him he very judici- $7 7 to « ; 0d every y play from the firſt ſcene to 1 neh integrity and corruption; 3 let him — his comprehenſion of the dialogue, and his intereſt in the fable. But to much the greater and more enlightened part of his readers, (for how few are there compara- tively to whom Shakſpeare is new!) he gives a very different advice: Let them to whom the pleaſures of novelty have Sealed. of a a dete, and read the commentators,” . . During the era 5 eee e ca- pricious innovation, notes were indeed evils; while d 4- one „ P R E F A C E. one page was covered with ingenious ſophiſtry in ſup- port of ſome idle conjecture, and another was waſted in its overthrow, or in erecting a new fabrick equally unſubſtantial as the former. But this era is now hap- pily paſt away; and conjecture and emendation have given place to rational explanation. We ſhall never, I hope, again be told, that . as the beſt gueſſer was the beſt diviner, ſo he may be ſaid in ſome meaſure to be the beſt editor of Shakſpeare . Let me not, however, be ſuppoſed an enemy to all conjectural emendation; ſometimes undoubtedly we muſt have recourſe: to it; but, like the machinery of the aneient drama, let it not be reſorted to except in caſes of difficulty ; ni dignus vindice nodus. I wiſh (ſays Dr. Johnſon,) we all con- jectured leſs, and explained more.” When our poet's entire library ſhall have been diſcovered, and the fables of all his plays traced to their original ſource, when every temporary alluſion ſhall have been pointed out, and every obſcurity elucidated, then, and not till then, let the accumulation of notes be complained of. I ſcarcely remember. ever to have looked into a book of the age of Queen Elizabeth, in Which 1 did not find ſomewhat that tended to throw a light on theſe plays. While our object is, to ſupport and eſtabliſh what the poet wrote, to illuſtrate his phrafeology by comparing it with that of his contemporaries, and to explain his fugitive” alluſions to cuſtoms long ſince diſuſed and for- gotten, While this object is kept ſteadily In view, if even every line of His plays were accompanied with a comment, every intelligent reader would be indebted to the induſtry of him who produced it. Such uniformly . , . obfte 7. Newton's Preface to his edition of Milton. oY iff 17 _- 3 FR-E F A. CB Ivii has been the object of the notes now preſented to the publick. Let us then hear no more of this barbarous jar- gon concerning Shakſpeare's having been elucidated into obſcurity, and buried under the load of his commentators. Dryden is ſaid to have regretted the ſucceſs of his own inſtructions, and to have lamented that at length, in con- ſequence of his critical prefaces, the town had become too ſkilful to be eaſily ſatisfied. The ſame obſerva- tion may be made with reſpect to many of theee: objectors, to whom the meaning of ſome-of our poet's moſt difficult paſſages is now become ſo familiar, that they fancy they originally underſtood them * without a, prompter; and with great gravity exclaim againſt the unneceſſary illuſtrations furniſhed by his Editors: nor ought we much to wonder at this; for our poet himſelf has told us, s common proof, « That lowlineſs i is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber upward turns his face; « But when he once attains the upmoſt round, He then unto the ladder turns his back; Looks in the clouds.” — — | J have conſtantly made i it a rule in reviſing the notes of former editors, to compare ſuch paſſages as they have cited from any authour, with the book from which the extract was taken, if I could procure it; by which ſome inaccuracies have been rectified. The incorredt extract made by Dr. Warburton from Saviolo's treatiſe on Ho- nour and Honourable Quarrels, to illuſtrate a paſſage i in As you | like it, fully proves the propriety of ſuch a collation. At the end of the tenth volume I have added ah | . containing correRtions, and ſupplemental obſervations, y viii PREFACE obſervations, made too late to be atinexed to the plays to which they belong. Some object to an Appendix; ; bur, in my opinion, with very little reaſon. No book can be the worſe for ſuch a ſupplement; - ſince the reader, if ſuch be his caprice, need not examine it. If the ob- jector means, that he wiſhes that all the information contained in an Appendix, were properly diſpoſed in the preceding volumes, it muſt be acknowledged that ſuch an arrangement would be extremely deſirable: but as well might he require from the elephant the ſprightli- neſs and agility of the ſquirrel, or from the ſquirrel the wiſdom and ſtrength of the elephant, as expect, that an editor's lateſt thoughts, ſuggeſted by difcurſive reading while the ſheets that compoſe his volumes were paſling through the preſs, ſhould form a part of his original work; that information acquired too late to be employ- : ed 1 in its proper place, ſhould yet be found there. That the very few ſtage- directions which the old copies exhibit, were not taken from our authour's ma- | nuſcripts, but furniſhed by the players, is proved by one in Macbeth, AQ TV. ſc. i. where „ peu of eight kings” is directed, and Banquo laft, 701 4 ola aſs in his band; though from the very words which the poet has written for Macbeth, it is manifeſt that the glaſs ought to be borne by the eighth king, and not by Banquo. All the ſtage · directions therefore throughout this work I have conſidered as wholly in my power, and have regu- lated them in the beſt manner I could. The reader will alſo, I think, be pleaſed to find the place in which every ſcene is ſuppoſed to paſs, preciſely aſcertained : a ſpecies of information, for which, though it often throws light on the it we look in vain in the ; ancient I” OD > Wn gy ce — . . P. R E. F. A; C. Es lix ancient copies, and which has been too much vetdegel | by the modern editors. T he play of Zericles, Prince of Te, Which i is now - once more reſtored to our authour, I originally intended to have ſubjoined, with Titus Andronicus, to the tenth volume; but, to preſerve an equality of ſize in my volumes, have been obliged to give it a different place. The hand of Shakſpeare being indubitably found in that piece, it will, I doubt not, be conſidered as a valuable acceſſion; and it is of little conſequence Wee it | —_— WIT It has long been thought that Trtus Kabel was not written originally by Shakſpeare; about ſevent years after his death, Ravenſeroft having mentioned that he had been „ told by ſome anciently converſant with the ſtage, that our poet only gave ſome maſter- touches to one or two of the principal parts or characters. The very curious papers lately diſcovered in Dulwich Col- lege, from which large extracts are given at the end of the Hiſtory, of the Stage, prove, what I long ſince ſuſpected, that this play, and theFirft Part of K. Henry, were in poſſeſſion of the ſcene when Shakſpeare began to write for the ſtage; and the ſame manuſcripts ſhewz that it was then very common for a dramatick poet to alter and amend the work of a preceding writers The queſtion therefore is now deciſively ſettled 3- and un- doubtedly ſome additions were made to both theſe pieces by Shakſpeare. It is obſervable that the ſecond ſcene of the third act of Titus Andronicus is not found in the quarto copy printed in 1611. It is therefore highly probable that this ſcene was added. by our aauthour; authour; and his hand may be traced in the p act, as well as in a few other places !. Fn which he made to Pericles. are much more numerous, and therefore more ſtrongly entitle it to a place among the dramatick pieces which he has adorned by his pen. With reſpect to the other conteſted plays, Sir John c Olacaftle, The London Prodigal, &c. which have now for near two centuries been falſely aſcribed to our. authour, the, manuſcripts above mentioned completely clear him from that imputation; and prove, that while his great modeſty made him fet but little value on his own inimitable. productions, he could patiently. endure. to have the, miſęrable traſh of other writers publickly im- puted to. him, without taking any meaſure to vindicate his fame. Sir John Oldcaftle, ve find from indubitable evidence, though aſcribed i in the title-page to“ William Shakſpearc,” and printed i in the year 1600, when his fame was in its meridian, was the joint · production of four other poets; MIchacl Dra ton Anthony ke 1 5 F 25 e Vltöns 85 0 4; 16 95757 1 K. 7 5 4 If ever the account- 3 of Mr. 8 hall be. 45 eh we mall . y find in it—< Paid to William Shak- pear e 5 JD ng ot dndronicus. 8 See Vol. 1. Fart II. A «= fy nd 1. bauten wr at tin x ah. 835 [540 E boog v7! 15 * PP R N H A CI E. Wi now extant. Any diſquiſition therefore concerning theſe controverted pieces is here unneceſſary. Some years ago I publiſhed a ſhort Eſſay on the economy and uſages of our old theatres. The Hiſtorical Account of the Engliſh Stage, which has been formed on that eſſay, has ſwelled to ſuch a ſize, in conſequence of various reſearches ſince made, and a great acceſſion of _ very valuable materials, that it is become almoſt a new work. (f / theſe the moſt important are the curious papers which have been diſcovered at Dulwich, and the very valuable Office- book of Sir Henry Herbert, Maſter of the Revels to King James and King Charles the Firſt, which have contributed to throw much light on our dramatick hiſtory, and furniſhed ſome fingular anecdotes of the poets of thoſe times. Twelve years have elapſed ſince the Eſſay on the order of time in which the plays of Shakſpeare were written, firſt appeared. A; re- examination of theſe plays ſince that time has, furniſhed Me with ſeveral particulars in confirmation of what I had formerly ſuggeſted on this ſubjeR. On a careful reviſal of that Eſſay, which, I hope, is improved as well as conſiderably enlarged, I had the ſatisfaction of obſerving that I had found reaſon to attribute but two plays to an era widely diſtant from that to which they had been originally aſcribed ; and to make only a minute change in the arrangement af a few others. Some information, however, Which has, been obtained ſince that Eſſay was printed, in, its preſent form, inclines me to think that one of the two plays which I allude to, The Winter's Tale, was a ſtill later production than 1 have — for I have now good reaſon to believe that * ” _- 6 = 2 1 2 — —ä — — — that it was firſt exhibited in the year frz. 4 and chat conſequently i it muſt have been one of our poetꝰ 9 lateſt walks. | Though above a century and a half has capfed ſince the death of Shakſpeare, it is ſomewhat extraordinary, (as I obſerved on a former occaſion,) that none of his various editors ſhould have attempted to ſeparate his genuine poetical compoſitions from the ſpurious perſor- mances with which they have been long intermixed; or have taken the trouble to compare them with the ear- lieſt and moſt authentick copies. Short! y after his death | a very incorrect impreſſion of his poems was iſſued out, which in every ſubſequent edition, previous to the year 1780; was implicitly followed. They have been care- fully reviſed, and with many additional illuſtrations are now a ſecond time faithfully printed from the original copies, excepting only Henus and Adonis, of which I have not been able to procure the firſt impreſſion. The ſecond edition, printed in 1596, was obligingly tranſ- mitted to me by tlie late Reverend Thomas Warton, n of whoſe friendly and valuable 1 I was to be iſſued SEL the preſs. It is painful to recollect how many of (I had almoſt ſaid) my coadjutors have died Nince the preſent work was begun: the elegant ſcholar, and i ingenious writer, whom 1 have juſt men- | much pleaſure, and whoſe ſtamp could give a value and currency to any work. <4 NY — — 4 See Bmendations and Aion, Vol, I, Part IL, p. 286. With RU E tioned ; Dr. 8 Johnſon, and Mr. Tyrwhitt: "iz men, from ; whoſe approbation of my labours I had promiſed myſelf. . Pi: © E: F- OE Ixil With the materials which J have been ſo fortunate as to obtain, relative to our poet, his kiridred, and friends, it would not have been difficult to have formed a new. Life of Shakſpeare, leſs meagre and imperfe& than that left us by Mr. Rowe: but the information which I have procured having been obtained at very different times, it is neceſſarily diſperſed, partly in the copious notes ſubjoined to Rowe's Life, and partly in the Hiſ- torical Account of our old actors. At ſome future time I hope to weave the whole into one uniform and con- nected narratly * My! inquiries having been nn on a to the- very moment of publication, ſome circumſtances rela- tive to our poet were obtained too late to be introduced into any part. of the preſent work. 0 theſe due ale will be made hereafter. | The prefaces of Theobald, Hanmer, and Warburton, 1 have not retained, becauſe they appeared to me to throw no light on our authour or his works: the room which they would have taken up, will, I an be found occupied by more valuable matter. ü As ſome of the preceding editors have juſtly been condemned for innovation, ſo perhaps (for of objections there is no end,) T may be cenſured for too ſtrict an adherence to the ancient copies. I have conſtantly had in view the Roman ſentiment adopted by Dr. Johnſon, | that © it is more honourable to fave 2 citizen than to deſtroy an enemy,” and, like him, bn have been more careful to protect than to attack.” #'T do not wiſh the reader to forget, (fays the ſame Ou that the moſt” y 4 - N * Ix. #5 a L e P ,. 13 347 en cCommodious 1 » — Ixiv P. R E F A CA R commodious (and he might have added, the maſtforcible and elegant) is not always the true readings,” On this principle I have uniformly proceeded, having reſolved never to deviate from the authentick copies, merely be- cauſe the phraſeology was harſh or uncommon. Many pallages, which have heretofore been conſidered as corrupt, and are now ſupport by the uſage of con- | temporary writers, 11 . the n of this caution ?. ä | MSRP A goat: 6X. Henry IV. P. II. 7 See particularly The Merchant of Venice, val. Ur. p. 462 ; That many may be meant e By the fool multitude.” with the note there, and in the Appendix, p. 90 0 1 We undoubtedly ſhould not now write - - 66 But, left If de guilty to ſelf- wrong. yet we find thi in The Comedy of Errors, Vol. II. p. 1717, and it i ted by our poet's own authority i in the Appendix, p. 569. See alſo The Winter's Tale, TOW IV. p. 257: 6646 This your \on-in-law, _ e And ſon unto the king, (whom heavens ane « Is troth · plight to your RN” Meaſure for Meaſure, Vol. II. p. 962 — to be Gables, —. f Coriolanus, Vol. VII. p. 239, n. 5; and Appendix, p. 662: t Which often, thus, corredling ads ſtout heart,” &c. Hamlet, Vol. IX. p. 204 * $4; - 7 « That he might not e the winds of heaven” fads 4s you. like it, Vol. III. p. 154, n. 7; and enen p · . 2 My voice is ragged; | Cymbeline, Vol. VIII. p. 472, n.3: _ . ee © Whom heavens, in juſtice, (both on her and Ng % Have laid moſt W a. = __ p R E F A C FE. luv The rage for innovation till within theſe laſt thirty years was ſo great, that many words were diſmiſſed from our poet's text, which in his time were current in every mouth. In all the editions ſince that of Mr. Rowe, in the Second Part of King Henry IV. che word channel” has been rejected, and Fennel ſubſtituted in its room, though the former term was commonly employed in the ſame ſenſe in the time of our authour; and the learned Biſhop of Worceſter has ſtrenuouſſy endeavoured to prove that in Cymbeline the poet wrote - not ſhakes, but ſhuts, or checks, © all our buds from growing * ;” though the authenticity of the original reading is eſtabliſhed beyond all controverſy by two other paſſages of Shakſpeare. 2 Very ſoon, indeed, after his death, this rage for inno- vation ſeems to have ſeized his editors; for in the year 1616 an edition of his Rape of Lucrece was publiſhed, which was ſaid to be newly reviſed and correfted ; but in which, in fact, ſeveral arbitrary changes were made, and the ancient diction rejected for one ſomewhat more modern. Even in the firſt complete collection of his plays publiſhed in 1623, ſome changes were undoubt- edly made from ignorance of his meaning and phraſe- ology. They had, I ſuppoſe, been made in the play- houſe copies after his retirement from the theatre. Thus A UI. fe. i, © —throw the quean in the channel. In that paſſage, as in many others, I have ſilently reſtored the original reading, without any obſervation; but the word, in this ſenſe, being now obſolete, ſhould have been illuſtrated by a note. This defect, however, will be found remedied in King Henry YI. P. II. Act II. ſc. to. « As if a channel ſhould be call'd the a. 2 Hurd's Hor. 4th edit, Vol. I. p. 55. Vor. „ e in bt FPFB ET AQ E in Othello, Brabantio is made 40 call to his domeſticks to raiſe . ſome ſpecial officers of mig: inſtead of 44 offi- cers of night; andithe phraſe of all louet, in the ſame 58 play, not being underſtood, * for love's fake”? was ſub- ſtituted in its room. S0, in Hamlet, we have ene ever for or eber, and rites inſtead of the more ancient word, crumts. In King Lear, Act I. ſc. i. the ſubſtitution * Goes thy heart with this ? inſtead of Goes this with thy heart? without doubt aroſe from the ſame chuiſe. In the plays of which we have no quarto copies, we; may be ſure that ſimilar innovations were made, though we have now no certain means of detecting them. After what has been proved concerning the ſophiſtica- ons and corruptions of tlie Second Folio, we canmot be ſurpriſed that when theſe plays were re- publiſhed by Mr. Rowe in the beginning of tHis century from a later folio; in which the interpolationis of the former were all preſerved, and many new ęerrours added, almoſt every page of his work was, diefigured: by. accumulated. cor- ruptions. In Mr. Pope's edition our authour was not lefs miſreprefented q for though by examining the oldeſt 3 detected forme exxours, hyſhis numerous fan- citul alterations the poet was ſo completely modernized, that Pam confident, had be; 4 xe-yiſited the glimpſes of the magn, he, would, not have, underſtood his own works. From the quartos indęed 2 few, valuable reſto- rations were made; but all, the adyantage that was thus htained, was, Outweighed, by eee trapſpoſtigns, and interpolations. ol Of , 1914 9 v | The readers of Sha ſpeare bein g Ae with thes Uiberties taken by Mir. Pope, dde ſobleguent edition of 17 2 Was * becauſe he profeſſed to 6 petitor, and illuſtrated a fee paffages by extracts from the writers of our poet's age. That his work ſliould at this day be confidered of any value, only ſhews how long impreſſions will remain, when they are once made; for Theobald, though not ſo great an innovator as Fops, was yet a Conſiderable innovator; and his edition being | printed: from that of his immediate predeceſſor, while'a few arbitrary changes made by Pope. were detected, innumeruble ſophiſtications were ſilently adopted. His khowfedes of the contemporary authours was ſo ſeanty, that all the illuſtration of that kind diſperſed throughotit his volumes; has been exceeded by the reſearches. which have ſince been made for the puryale of nen | a ſingle play. | Of Sir Thomas Harimqrd it is only neceſſary to ay what he adopted almoſt all the innovations of Pope, adding to them whatever caprice dictated. To him ſucceeded Dr. Warburton, 4 lick, who (as hath been fad of Salinafins) ſeems to have erected his throne on a heap of ſtones, that he might have them at hand to throw at the heads of all thoſe who paſſed by. His unboinided licence in ſubſtituting his own chimerical coniceits in the place of the abthoir's genuine text, las been ſo fully 1 mewn by his reviſers, that T ſuppoſe no critical reader will ever again” open his volumes. An hundred ſtrappadoes, coiling 10 an Italian comick writer, would not have induced Petrarch, were he living, to ſubſcribe to the me##ins fich cer- tain commentators after his death had by > their gate extorted from his works. It is a eatiotis ſpeculation to nd Oy many thouſand would have been 'reqt E 2 * — — e 10 nadhere to the ancient copies more ſtrictly than his com- — — ——k— — — — — nattient 6f the eighteenth" century ; KRvili PI R EA F. ACI EI fow this editor- to have inflied:owourigreat dramatiok poet for the ſame purpoſe; The defence which has been made for Dr. Warburton on this ſubject, by ſome of his friends, is ſingularανσπο He well knew, it has been ſaid, % that much the greater part of his notes do nut throw any light on the poet of whoſe Works he un- dertooks the reviſion, and that he frequently imputed to 2 a meaning of which he never thought; but the editor 8 great object was to diſpla 10 his 220 learn- ing, not to illuſtrate his authour, and this end che #5 tained; x for in ſpite, of all the clamour again him, h his work. Faß to his reputation as.a ſcholar. e it iy then; b 3, but one of his admirers Ever dare, 10 unite his name wit 15 of Shaklpeate; and let us at! ik be allowed to Wonder, that the Nabel editor ſhould have Rad ſo little reſpe& fon the greateſt poet that has appear- ed ſinee the days of Homer) as toi uſe a commentary on his works merely as A. ulkingahorſe; under the Pre. Jentation of zu hieß he'mip hr fhooÞ ius tu. i Doe 5 At length the taſk of Atviſitig thefe plays was tinder- talten by one, whoſe! extrabrdinnt) Powers 'of mind, as they rendered Him the Adrhirätie 585 conterdf polaries, Wall trahifunt his tate to pot ty a8 the bfi gte Wo 4 1 And Will aulit it without competition, if we except a great orator, philo- ſopher, and ſtateſman *,, now. living, whole talents and virtues Are, an honour to human nature. In 1 765 Dr. Bots edition! Which Had long been meh 5 250 Ka deen to che publick. His admitable ace eil. 4þs Me Kine compoßtilon! in our f Jabguage 0 to —— vet © 01955 fie oft | 1ST ebene Bm Burke, 1 D2 TRY T6 wimbs : | 0 be PI R E F A! O E: Ixix his happe) and in general juſt, characters of theſe: plays, his refutation of: the fulſe gloſſes of Theobald and War: burton, and his numerous explications of involved and difficult paſſages, are too well known; to be here en- larged upon: and therefore I fhall only add, that his vigorous and comprehenſive underſtanding threw more light on his authaur than all his predeveſſors: hail e En one 6bletvation, however, c concerning « our Þ po get; I 12 not ehtirely e concur with him. © Tt is not (he k 010K 0 | very Statefült to conſider how little the ſucceſſion of editors has added to this authour's power of pleaſing. wh He was read, admired, ſtudied, and imitated, while he was yet Kformed with all the improprieties which Ignorance and neglect could accumulate | upon, him.“ bots FILL Ks certainly was read, admired, ſtudied, and imitated; at the period mentioned hut ſurely not in the ſame degree as at preſent. The ſucceſſion of editors has effected this; it has made him undetſtood ; it has made him popular z it has hem every one who is capable of reading, how much ſupexior he is not only to Jonſon and ne whom. the. bad taſte gf the laſt age from the time of the Reſtoration 10 che end of the, century ſet aboye e ſug er the dramatick poets of Wee : {/g6 MIRLE politus 1y9qrmoo Tworty; ec Ridet anhelantin Aulfu au osfligia tu dun. wilgot * Ck 280 « 6 AS. Ut 117 1101 — 1 24 7 Every authour who pleaſes muſt i pleaſe eg more 25; he is more underſtood, and there can be ng doubt that Shakſpeare is now, infigitely better undexſiood. than he was in the laſt century. To ſay nothing of the pe at * it is clear that Drydem Rirfelf, tg a great e 3 : - admirer eople hy F N EI FI AT Oi Ei admirer of our poet, and D' Avenant, though he wrote forthe ſtage in the year 1627, did not always underſtand him. The n books which are neceſſary to our 115 3 {| : 61185 > % JL j 109 T3316 218K: NY in authour's inet 1 06 The tongue in general is ſo much refined ſince Shak» ſpeare's time, that many of his words, and more of Hs phraſes, are ſcarce intelligible,” Preface to Dryden's'Trotus nud Ureſida. The various changes made by Dryden'in-particalaripaſſages io that play, and by him and D' Avenant in the 7. empeft,, prove deciſively that they frequently 0 not underſtand our poet's. language. | | ; : Inhis. Defence of the Epe 1 to hs Conqueſt of ee, ; Dryden arraigns Ben Jonſon for uſing the perſonal, inſtead of the neutral, pronoun, and unfear*d for unafraid : „ Though heaven ſhould ſpeak with all bis wrath ; at once, 8 0x We ſhould ſtand upright, and unſear'd. go 1 a+ his Chat be), is ill Gotax with heaven, and by unfear'd he means ungfraid; words of. a quite, coptraryſſignification.— — He perpetually uſes, forty. for gate, which is.an affefted error in him, to introduce Latin y the loſs of the Engliſh idiom.“ Now his for its, homents ill t Nn may. be, was the com- mon language of the time; und to fie in he fenſe of to fer- | rify, is found not only in al ehe pots; but in every dictionary of that age. With reſpect to porte, Shakſpeare who will not be ſuſpected of affecting Latinifms;! frequently employs that word in the ſame ſenſe as Jonſon has done, and as probably the whole kingdom did; for the word is ſtill ſo uſed in Scotland. D' Avenant's alteration of Macberb, and Meaſure for Meuſure, furniſn many proofs of the ſame kind. In The Law agaiaf Lowers, which he formed on a ag about nothing and Mea- Jure. * Meaſure, are theſe. lines : : nor do I think, © 5, 44% +# * 2 1 * ph $1.4. IWF © * 1 * 1 5 The pr prince has "Hh: Seen who affes 3 93550 "of Ssdiog & iG1 Ihn wood ai cond 5 - The PI RD E, FI NM GAR Ixxi autheur's illuſttation, were of ſo little account in theit time, that What now we can ſcarce procure at any eee then the furniture of the nurſety or the Un fifty years after our poet s death, Dryden mentions The pa * patla ſſage i imitated isin Meaſure for Meaſiire: | = ® 0 N Nor do 1 think the man of Aries N51 2921 1 That does affect a vd oh oy 210T "puter language had been well undertood, the epithet ſufr would hot have been rejected. See Othello: ce My blood begins my fafer guides to rule; 6 And paſſion, having my belt FOR e ” A. 85 alſo Edgar, in King Lear: | | 3 cc The ſafer ſenſe wml ne 'er accommodate 5 | gre _ £877 SHE un: '« His maſter thus. | ging #1 blaodt N Ian an TETRIS The price of books at different periods may ſerve in ſome meaſure to aſcertain"the taſte and particular ſtudy of the age. = the ſale of Dr. Francis Bernard's' library i in 1698, the fol- S 114707 „I löhing books Wete lold ur the gone ked pries: Y I 14108 Y 7 4123 N 515 0 * | 913 va a „1g. "6 1105 $113 R een XS! F C 9.＋ ee net ud wok | Gomerde Confeſſions Amantis. ane ls 163406 136, ofie Now. ſold; for two guineas. ni yin fon bayot e. A - Clixton'vRevgegl Fof the hiſtories of Troy, 1502. 0. 3. 0. — Chronicle England. . 0. Hall's Chronicle „ Of 5 4 | Grafton's Chronicles! + {=o 0 bib DD 644 40. - Holinfhed's. Chronicle, 128877 0N0i1:61%tls g- cs. I his book is now frequently ſold fon ten guineas. ,..;1 430) . e A R 1 8 per sd-Amdw dA Turberville on hawking and hu rer SHE Pede Copley's Wits, Fits, and Fancies. I 102 97 8 0 r s Art of Engliſh Poel. 255 Soafg 04 2 . This book is now uſually ſold for a gained. e & Powel's —— — — — 88 —— ———— — - | 2 10 (iff we except the few Wich Wete Collected by Mr. Ixxit PREFACE mentions; that he. was hen become 4,@.(i/tlabſolete,”? In the begjpning of the preſent centurꝝ LonlShakelbury, | N his, ** rude unpellſbed (files) and his aN S pbraſe and, pit , and not long afterwards, | y informs us that he had been rejected from ſome mo odern collections of poetry on aceount of, his cſolete * hence could theſe repreſentations have pro- þ but. becauſe our poet, not being diligentlyudied, not St compared, with, the aten ASA ry rer, Was not underſtood? 11 he had been read, admired, ſtudied, and imitated,” in the ſame degree as he ig now, the enthuſiaſm of ſome one or other of his admirers in the laſt age would have induced him to make ſome inquivies concerning the hiſtory of his theatrical career, and the anecdotes of his private life.” But no ſuch perſon was found; no arixiety in the Publick ſought out any particulars eonterttiy] n after the Reſtoration, | * Aubrey, ) though at that time the Riſtöry of his Hife muff have been known to m ny for His ter Joan Hart, who muſt have known much öf 5 N years, did not die tin 1646: his favoutrite4: 197 Mrel Fall, lived till 1640; and His fecont” dalight . Judith, was living | at Stratford-upon-Avon in the 1 of the 2 - 2185 Aade to. nontetrifobs gd 110 s | Pbwel's' Hiftoryof Walk? vfb. 00 . e eee the pute 6 bf Pleaſiie, o. 0, 4. th [13d thoi Sn ue te. 0% oly mes of Painter“ 8 Palace of Pleaſure are now oda j. old for "three CLAD is hs et 1 o1q doum ef An 9120) hos : inſane * TA O0. Ax 2 . 2315 - Metanibtpliols of Ajax,” by" Sir John Har- TE 1 ff 4 3s Sid: 1 LVF ell 047! F If Ja, ..* 12.361 Tin 22 5 | it chi 2 o, Os; 4. 1G 21 71 10 N b ih} £14 bags: IICIENG? 1 Free 5 4 5 f „ E e. Ixxiit” 1662. Hg md-daughter, Lady Barnard, did not die. til 1670. Mr. Thofttas Combe, to whom Shakſpeare 2 his ſword,” ſurvived our poet above forty years, fi ed at Stratford in 1657. His elder brother — — nibe lived till 1667. Sir Richard Biſhop, who was bort in 1585, lived at Bridgetown near Strat- ford till 1672; and his ſon Sir William Biſhop, who was born in 1626, died there in 1700. From all theſe” perſons without doubt many circumſtances relative to Shakſpeare might have been obtained; "but that Was age as deficient | in Iterary curioſity as in taſte. - It is. Jemarkable that in a century after our poet's death, five editions only of his plays were publiſhed which probably conſiſted of not more than. three thou ſand copies. During the ſame period three editions of the plays of Fletcher, and four of thoſe of Jonſon, had appgared- On the other hang, from the year 1716 to the preſent time, 2 is, in ſeventyrfour years, but, two editions, of the former writer, and one of the latter, have been iſſued rom the preſs; 5 While above thirty 4 thouſand ;copige/ of... hakſpeare have been diſperſed e K land ?, That, mearly,as many, editions of [13 10 Salt a 2d Hr novf.-noqu-Daghs the 5 Nan our high admiration of Shakſpeare, we are yet without a ſplendid edition of hi werks, Wich the illuſ- trations which the united efforts of vazious;commentators; have contributed; while in oth countries the 10 re rations date been lavihed on their dilting aſh ed. |; P9Fts. The editions of Pope and Hanmer, may, Dit a almoſt às much pro- priety, be called their works, as thdſe of. Shakſpeare; and there- fore can have no claim to. be admitted into any elegant. library. Nor will the promiſed edition, with. engravin $4, undertaken. byte Alderman Boydell, 8 this defect, or it is not to 1 | be * AF ITY Etna — — * r — —-—̃— — n N N E4 F AC Br the works of Jonſon as of Shakſpeare ffiould have been demanded in the laſt century, wilt not appear ſurprizing; when we recollect what Dryden has related ſoon after the Reſtoration: that , others were then generally pre- ferred before him “.“ By others Jonſon and Fletcher were meant. To attempt to "OP" to the readers of | 210 11 —¹¹⁹ 79 101 LUO $113 A* 19 510 1106 oil 5 the 1101 5 be accompanied With notes. At "(ime cal *k nd 0 very diſtant, time, I mean to furniſh the publick, with; n legant edition in quarto, (without en e in which the text of the preſent edition ſhall be followed, with the illuſtrations ſub- joined in the ſame page. . 4 In the year 164, whether from a capricious view 1 tude in the public taſte, or from à general inattention to the drama, we find Shirley nene alat 850 came to ſee our A ED qr od ADM. sees cc FI Me e 25iimongq DOA % What audience we have: . company te To Shakſpeare comes ? whole mirth did onge beguile e Dull hours, and butkiy* d made even eee % So lovely were the wounds, th at men wo! day M „They could endure the e a Whole day. 02 52 « He has but ine rien rl N Ss | i 3 Prologue tc Te, Fifters. 6c Shakſpeare to 8 was K abs beſt jeſt lies « Pth' lady's queſtions, and the fool's replies; 4 Old- faſhion'd wit, which walk'd from town to . 4 In trunk hoſe, which our fathers call'd the clown ; ff Whoſe wit our nicer, times would obſceneneſs call, * And which made bawdry paſs for comical, « Nature was all his art; thy vein was free . As his; but withoit his ſcurrility.”” * Verſes on Fe by William Cartwright, OY : After the Reſtoration, o on the revival of the theatres, the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher were efteemed ſo much ſu e. rior to thoſe of our avthour, that \ we are told by Dryden, te two 3 of R E FACE! hay che preſent day the abſurdity of ſuch a preference. n ew to their underitandings- | When we 5jis 16001] 91819 h 710 1 de 1 29110791 387 naw of their pieces were acted, through the year, for one of Sbak- ſpeare s. If his teſtimony, needed any cee pra fe the n lowing verſes would afford itz, c f, οσν] e 5194 In our old plays, the bumour, 5 and paſſi ion, „ Like doublet, hoſe, and cloak, are out of faſhion ; TE % That which the world call*d wit in Shakſpeart's age, . 15 s Jaugh'd” at, as improper for our ſtage . 4 {ti Tit » 141% e 10111111; 3:5; Prologue to Shirley's Lowe Tricks;, 1667. 98 At every as, while Shakſpeare's lofty ſtite e Neglected lies, to mice and worms a ſpoil, Gilt on the back, juſt ſmoking from the preſx „The apprentice ſhews you D' Urfey's Hudibra,ů « Crown's Maſk, bound up with Settle's choiceſt * 66 And promiles ſome. new eſſay of Babor's.” „ enge ind SATIRE) publiſhed in x689. | © —againft old as well as new to rage, « 18 the peculiar frenzy of this age. e Slidkfpcare muſt down, and ou muſt praiſe no more cc Soft ae n s, nor the jealous Moor: &« Shak ſpeare, whoſe fruftful genius, happy wit, „ Was Ramm and finiſh'd at a lucky hit, «« The pride of nature, and the ſhame of ſchools, © Born to create, and not to learn from, rules, 30 «« Mutt pleaſe no more: his baſtards now deride 4 Their father's nakedneſs they ought to hide. Prolegue by Sir Charles Sedley, to Fr 72 | Widow, 1693. 3 To the. honour of Margaret Ducheſs of Newcaſtle be it remembered, that however fantaſtick in other reſpects, ſhe had taſte enough to be fully ſenſible of our poet's merit, and was one of the firſt who after the Reſtoration publiſhed a very ee See her Sociable Letters, | folio, 31664, p 244. 5 - endeavour , hb hai Pj Ry E Pi AT CA E; endeavour to trace anything hike) a grbund for this prepoſterous taſte, we ate told of Fletcher's egſe, and, Jonſon's learning. Of hom ittle uſe his learning was to him, an ingenious writer of our own time has ſneum with that vigour and animation for which he was diſ- tinguiſhed. Jonſon, in the ſerious drama, is las much an imitator, as Shakſpeare is an original. He was very learned, as Sampſon was very ſtrong; to his own hurt. Blind to the nature of tragedy, he pulled down all antiquity on his head, and buried himſelf under it. We ſee nothing of Jonſon, nor indeed of his aqmired (put alſo murdered), ancients; for what ſhone in, the. hiſtorian is a cloud on the poet, and Cutiline might have been a, good play, if Salluſt had never 5 Written. ico 219119 Te Mins ret ei 10 3 ON Ju 1 910 | | $39 „ Who Knows whether Shakſpeare might not have thought leſs, if he had read more? Who knows if he might not have laboured under the load ef Jonfon's learning, as Enceladus under Etna? His mighty genius, indeed, through tie moſt mountainous opprefſion would have breathed but ſorne of this inextinguithable fire yet poſſibly he might not habe riſen up into thut giant, that much mare than : common man; at Which we now gaze with amazement and detight. ' Perhaps he was as ilenrned as his drartiatick province required; for Whatever ther teatning. he wanted, he was maſter ready though books which the laſt conflagration alone ican deſtray; the book of nature, and that of ; 1 1011 IETI II ; ; - » Wan eon oflw yas wot Sligig og. 31s! 3 Conjectures on Original Compoſition, by Dr. Edward You ng. | Z LN "BG FFP E F A & E ev To this andi the other æncbmiums on our great poet which will be:foand in tlie following pages, I ſhall not attempt to make any addition He has juſtly obſerved, that 280 9m Ano 110 10 191% 200 Meant ig NO Of To guard a title that was rich before, Wuff gild refined gold; to paint the lily / To throw a perfume on the violet, To ſmooth the ice, or add another hue 1 , the rainbow, or with taper- light nu To ſeek the beauteous eye of heaven to, garpiſhs Is waſteful and ridiculous exceſss. Sy Fet me, however, be permitted' to rematk; thut be. ide all his other tranſcendent merits, he was the great refiner and poliſher of our latiguage. His e6mpound epithets, his bold metaphors, the energy of his Expteft ſions, the harmony of his numbers, all theſe render the language of Shakſpeare one of his principal. beauties. Unfortunately monemof lis letters, or other proſe com- poſitions, Hot in dramatick form, have reached poſterityg but ift any of them ever {hall be diſcovered, they will, Lam confidemstnhibit the ſame perſpicuity, the ſame cadence, the ſame alggance and vigour, Which we find in; his plays W ö nds and phraſes, ſays Dryden, © muſt of neceſſity receiue a change in ſusgeed - ing ages; but it ig almoſt ab miracle, that much of his language remains ſo pure; and trat he Hh began dra: matick poetry amongſt us, untaught by any, and, as Ben Jonſon tells us, without / learting, wal by the force. of his own genius perform ſo much, that in a manner he has left no praiſe for any who come alter him,” V & 5 , * 4 0 x — E A x EN * *” - I _— » *, 4 44 8 — 2 A % & 4s : < 2 1 F 0 2 33 Cy 5 ; > Ss : | - * 4 N « 4 i * N * * 7 1 * Wy 8 . * * n * * G * 1 12 . k = — FEE —— — viii: P R E F A GE. In theſe preſatory obſervations my principal object was, to aſcertain the true ſtate and reſpective value f the ancient copies, and to mark dut the courfe which has bern purſued in the edition now offered to the publick. It only remains, that I fhould return my very ſincere acknowledgments to thoſe gentlemen, to whoſe good offices L have been indebted in the progreſs of my work. My thanks are particularly due to Francis Ingram, of Ribbisford in Worceſterſhire; Eſq. for the very valua- ble Office-book of Sir Henry Herbert, and ſeveral other curious papers which formerly belonged to that gentleman; to Penn Aſheton Curzon, Efq. for the uſe of the very rare copy of King Richard III. printed in 1g 9/y/; to the Maſter, and the Rev. Mr. Smith, libra- rian, of Dulwich College, for the Manuſcripts relative to one of our ancient theatres, which they obligingly tranſmitted to me; to John Kipling, Eſq. keeper of the rolls in Chancery, who in the moſt liberal manner ditected every ſearch to be made in the Chapel of the Rolls that I ſhould require, with A wiew to illuſtrate the hiſtory of our poet's life and to Mr. Richard Clarke, Regiſtrar of the- dioceſe of Worteſter, WHO with equal liberality, at my requeſty inade many ſearches in his office for the wills of various perſons. I atn alſo in a particular manner indebted to the kindneſs and attention of the Revi. Mr! Davenport, Vicar of — Ar hag: who moſt obligingly made every nquiry im thit town and" the neighbourhood,” which'T faſted” as Hkely to throw any 11 on the Ei er. ici Shakſpeare. ” « * x? 2 I deliver Ae . - 189 „ „ P R E F A C E. Ixxix Dol. * book to the world not witliout anxiety; conſcious, however; that L have ſtrenuouſfy endeavoured to render it not unworthy the attention of the publick. If the Jeſcarches which have been made for the illuſtra- tion of our poet's works, and for the diſſertations which accompany the preſent edition, ſhall afford as much entertainmebt to others, as I have derived from them, 1 ſhall conſider the time expended on it as well em- ployed. Of the dangerous ground on which I tread, 1 am fully ſenſible. Multa ſunt in his ſtudiis (to uſe the words of a venerable fellow-labourer © in the mines of Antiquity) cineri ſuppoſita dalaſa. Errata poſſint eſſe multa a memoria. Quis enim in memorie thefauro om - nia ſimul fic complectatur, ut pro arbitratu ſuo poſſit expromere ? Errata poſſint eſſe plura ab imperitia. Quis enim tam peritus, ut in taco hoc antiquitatis mari, eum tenipore oolluctatus: ſcopulis non allidatur? Hæe | tamen a te, humaniſſimæ: lecton tua humanitas, mea in- duſtria, patriæ Charitas, et HAK S EARI dignitas, mihi exorent, ut quid mei {ib jndicii ſine aliorum præjudicio libere proferam; ut eãdem vid qua alii in his ſtudiis ſolent, inſiſtam; et ut erratisſi ego agnoſcam, tu ig- noſcas.” / Thoſe, hof are the warmeſt admirers of dur great poet, and molt, converſant with his writings, beſt know the difficulty of (ſuch; a work, and will be moſt ready to pardon, its, defects z/ remembering, ithaticinnalh. arduous undertakings it, is eaſierſto concave. than to a compliſh; that “ the. will is infinite, and the executions; captined; that the Aired is bagels andtheaaflaver! to limit.“ SIR Aale QUEENSANNE-STREET, EAST, October 25, 1790. | IS Camden; | „ —— + — . —˖—＋ð1?1ð7vwꝗ —— aa. ̃ — es re nd —ñ:ß—ͤ— ß — ö —mD—— — OOO ND — —ͤ—E—Sjͤ — — — 3 — — — — rr — 2 — — 2 ” 4 4 , — 1 . " . * * * o . 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JOUNSON'S r R f F a G U 1 praiſes are without reaſon laviſhed on the dead, and that the honours due only to excellence are paid to antiquity, is a complaint likely to be always continued by thoſe, who, being able to add nothing to truth, hope for eminence from the hereſies of paradox; or thoſe, who, being forced by diſappointment upon conſolatory expedients, are willing to hope from poſterity what the preſent age refuſes, and flatter themſelves that the regard, which is yet denied by envy, will be at laſt beſtowed by time. | | Antiquity, like every other quality that attracts the notice of mankind, has undoubtedly votaries that reve- \rence it, not from reaſon, but from prejudice. Some ſeem to admire indiſcriminately whatever has been long preſerved, without conſidering that time has ſometimes co-operated with chance ; all perhaps are more willin to honour paſt than, preſent excellence; and the = contemplates genius through the ſhades of age, as the eye {urveys the ſun through artificial opacity. The great contention of criticiſm is to find the. faults of the mo- derns, and the beauties of the ancients. While an au- thor is yet living, we eſtimate his 1 by his worſt | 8 5 5 ; and when he is dead, we rate them by is beſt. "ih ; 7 To works, however, of which the excellence is not ab- ſolute and definite, but giadual and comparative; to works not raiſed upon principles demonſtrative and ſcien- tifick, but appealing wholly tg obſervation and experi- ence, no other teſt can be applied than length of dura- tion and continuance of eſteem. What mankind have long poſſeſſed they have often examined and compared, a * Firſt printed in 1768. e „ [A] | Ana 2 DR. IJOHNSON'S PREFACE. and if they perſiſt to value the poſſeſſion, it is becauſe frequent compariſons have confirmed opinion in its favour. As among the works of nature no man can properly call a river deep, or a mountain high, without the knowledge of many mountains, and many rivers; ſo in the produc- tions of genius, nothing can be fliled excellent till it has been compared with other works of the ſame kind. De- monftration immediately diſplays its power, and has no- thing to hope or fear from the flux of years; but works tentative and experimental muſt be eſtimated by their Proportion to the general and collective ability of man, as it is diſcovered in a long ſucceſſion of endeavours. Of the firſt building that wWas raiſed, it might be with cer- tainty determined that it was round or ſquare ; but whe- ther it was ſpacious or lofty muſt have been referred to time. The Pythagorean ſcale of numbers was at once diſcovered to be perfect; but the poems of Homer we et know not, to tranſcend the common limits of human intelligence, but by remarking, that nation after nation, and century after century, has been able to do little more than tranſpoſe his incidents, new name his characters, and paraphraſe his fentiments. 8 65-6 Dhl Ihle reverence due to writings that have long ſubſiſted ariſes therefore not from. any credulous confidence in the ſuperior wiſdom of paſt ages, or gloomy perſuaſion of the degeneracy of mankind, but is the conſequence of acknowledged and indubitable poſitions, that what has been longeſt known has been 'moſt conſidered, and what is moſt conſidered is beſt underſtood, © Wy The poet, of whoſe works J have undertaken the revi- fion, may now begin to aſſume the dignity of an ancient, and claim the privilege of eſtabliſhed fame and preſcrip- tive veneration. He has long outlived his century, the term commonly fixed as the teſt of literary merit. What- ever advantages he might once derive from perſonal allu- fions, local cuſtoms, or temporary opinions, have for many years been loſt; and every topick of merriment, or motive of ſorrow, which the modes of artificial life afforded him, now only obſcure the ſcenes which they once illuminated. The effects of favour and competi- | | ; tion = DR. JOHNSON's PREFACE. 3 tion are at an end; the tradition of his friendſhips and his enmities has periſhed ; his works ſupport no opinion with arguments, nor ſupply any faction with invectives; they can neither indulge vanity, nor gratify malignity ; but are read without any other reaſon than the deſire of pleaſure, and are therefore praiſed only as pleaſure 1s obtained; yet thus unaſſiſted by intereſt or paſſion, they have paſt through variations of taſte — changes of manners, and, as they devolved from one generation to another, have received new honours at every tranſ- miſſion, | | But becauſe human judgment, though it be gradually gaining upon certainty, never becomes infallible z and approbation, though long continued, may yet be only the approbation of prejudice or faſhion ; it is proper to inquire, by what peculiarities of excellence Shakſpeare has gained and kept the favour of his countrymen. Lee can pleaſe many, and pleaſe long, but juſt repreſentations of general nature. Particular manners can be known to few, and therefore few only can judge how nearly they are copied. 'The irregular combina- tions of fanciful invention may delight awhile, by that novelty of which the common ſatiety of life ſends us all in queſt; the pleaſures of ſudden wonder are ſoon ex- hauſted, and the mind can only repoſe on the ſtability of truth, Shakſpeare is above all writers, at leaſt above all mo- dern writers, the poet of nature; the poet that holds up to his readers a faithful mirror of manners and of life. His characters are not modified by the cuſtoms of par- ticular places, unpractiſed by the reſt of the world; by the peculiarities of ſtudies or profeſſions, which can ope- rate but upon ſmall numbers; or by the accidents of tranſient faſhions or temporary opinions: they are the genuine progeny of common humanity, ſuch as the world will always ſupply, and obſervation will always find. His | perſons act and ſpeak by the influence of thoſe general paſſions and principles by which all minds are agitated, and the whole ſyitem of life is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets a character is too often an | [A 2] individual; DR. JOHNSON'S*PEEFACE. individual; in thoſe of Shakſpeare it is commonly a ſpecies. ry * It is from this wide extenſion of deſign that ſo much _ inſtruction is derived. It is this which fills the plays of Shakſpeare with practical axioms and domeſtick wiſdom. It was ſaid of Euripides, that every verſe was a precept; and it may be ſaid of Shakſpeare, that from his works may be collected a ſyſtem of civil and œconomical pru- dence. Vet his real power is not ſnewn in the ſplendor of particular paſſages, but by the progreſs of his fable, and the tenor of his dialogue; and he that tries to re- commend him by ſelect quotations, will ſucceed like the pedant in Hierocles, who, when he offered his houſe to | ſale, carried a brick in his pocket as a ſpecimen. It will not eafily be imagined how much Shakſpeare excels in accommodating his ſentiments to real life, but by comparing him with other authors. It was obſerved of the ancient ſchools of declamation, that the more dili- gently they were frequented, the more was the ſtudent diſqualified for the world, becauſe he found nothing there which he ſhould ever meet in any other place. The ſame remark may be applied to every ſtage but that of Shakſpeare. The theatre, when it is under any other direction, is peopled by ſuch characters as were never ſeen, converſing in a language which was never heard, upon topicks which will never ariſe in the commerce of mankind. But the dialogue of this author is often ſo evidently determined by the incident which produces it, and is purſued with ſo much eaſe and ſimplicity, that it ſeems ſcarcely to claim the merit of fiction, but to have been gleaned by diligent ſelection out of common con- verſation, and common occurrences. | _ Upon every other ſtage the univerſal agent is love, by whole power all good and evil is diſtributed, and every action quickened or retarded. To bring a lover, a lady, and a rival into the fable; to entangle them in contra- dictory obligations, perplex them with oppoſitions of in- tereſt, and harraſs them with violence of deſires incon- ſiſtent with each other; to make them meet in rapture, and part in agony ; to fill their mouths with hyperbolical PDR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE: 5 joy and outrageous ſorrow; to diſtreſs them as nothing human ever was diſtreſſed; to deliver them as nothing human ever was delivered, is the buſineſs of a modern dramatiſt. For this, probability is violated, life is miſ- repreſented, and language is depraved. But love is only one of many paſſions, and as it has no great influence upon the ſum of life, it has little operation in the dramas of a poet, who caught his ideas from the living world, and exhibited only what he ſaw before him. He knew, that any other paſſion, as it was regular or exorbitant, was a cauſe of happineſs or calamity. Characters thus ample and general were not eaſily diſ- criminated and preſerved, yet perhaps no poet ever kept his perſonages more diſtinct from each other. Iwill not ſay with Pope, that every ſpeech may be aſſigned to the pro- per ſpeaker, becauſe many ſpeeches. there are which have nothing characteriſtical; but, perhaps, though ſome may be equally adapted to every perſon, it will be difficult to find any that can be properly transferred from the pre- ſent poſſeſſor to another claimant. The choice is right, when there 15 reaſon for choice. Other dramatiſts can only gain attention by hyper- bolical or aggravated characters, by fabulous and unex- ampled excellence or depravity, as the writers of barba- rous romances invigorated the reader by a giant and a dwarf; and he that ſhould form his expectations of hu- man affairs from the play, or from the tale, would be equally deceived. Shakſpeare has no heroes; his ſcenes are occupied only by men, who act and ſpeak as the rea- der thinks that he ſhould himſelf have ſpoken or acted on the ſame occaſion: even where the agency is ſuper- natural, the dialogue 1s level with life. Other writers diſguiſe the moſt natural paſſions and moſt frequent inci- dents ; fo that he who contemplates them in the book will not know them in the world: Shakſpeare approxi- mates the remote, and familiarizes the wonderful ; the event which he repreſents will not happen, but if it were poſſible, its effects would probably be ſuch as he has aſſigned; and it may be ſaid, that he has not only ſhewn human nature as it acts in real exigences, Es „„ | but * e * TO - eur ˙ cy — — — "fn — —— ” 7 — * * —— * Wy — — . 4 ———— —— —e—.— 6 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE but as it would be found in trials, to which it cannot be expoſed. | „ | | This therefore 1s the praiſe of Shakſpeare, that his dra- ma is the mirror of life; that he who has mazed his imagination, in following the phantoms which other writers raiſe up before him, may here be cured of his de- lirious ecſtaſies, by reading human ſentiments in human language; by ſcenes from which a hermit may eſtimate the tranſactions of the world, and a confeſſor predict the progreſs of the paſſions. „5 | His adherence to 3 nature has expoſed him to the cenſure of criticks, who form their judgments upon narrower principles. Dennis and Rhymer think his Ro- mans not ſufficiently Roman; and Voltaire cenſures his kings as not completely royal. Dennis is offended, that Menenius, a ſenator of Rome, ſhould play the buffoon ; and Voltaire perhaps thinks decency violated when the Daniſh uſurper is repreſented as a drunkard. - But Shak- ſpeare always makes nature predominate over accident ; and if he preſerves the eſſential character, is not very careful of diſtinctions ſuperinduced and adventitious. His ſtory requires Romans or kings, but he thinks only on men. He knew that Rome, like every other city, had men of all diſpoſitions ; and wanting a buffoon, he went into the ſenate-houſe for that which the ſenate-houſe would certainly have afforded him. He was inclined to ſhew an uſurper and a murderer not only odious, but deſpicable ; he therefore added drunkenneſs to his other qualities, knowing that kings love wine like other men, and that wine exerts its natural power upon kings. Theſe are the petty cavils of petty minds; a poet overlooks the caſual diſtinction of country and condition, as a painter, ſatisfied with the figure, negleQs the drapery. The cenſure which he has incurred by mixing comick, and tragick ſcenes, as it extends to all his works, de- ſerves more conſideration. Let the fact be firſt ſtated, and then examined. Shakſpeare's plays are not in the rigorous and critical Tenſe either tragedies or comedies, but compoſitions of a diſtinct kind; exhibiting the real ſtate of ſublunary na- ture, 4 \- — D R. JOHNSON?*S PREFACE. 7 ture, which partakes of good and evil, joy and ſorrow, mingled with endleſs variety of proportion and innumer- able modes of combination; and expreſſing the courſe of the world, in which the loſs of one is the gain of an- other; in which, at the ſame time, the reveller is haſt- ing to his wine, and the mourner burying his friend ; in which the malignity of one is ſometimes defeated by the frolick of another; and many miſchiefs and many bene- fits are done and hindered without deſign. Out of this chaos of mingled purpoſes and caſualties 'the ancient poets, according to the laws which cuſtom had preſcribed, ſelected ſome the | crimes of men, and ſome their abſurdites; ſome the momentous viciſſitudes of life, and ſome the lighter occurrences ; ſome the ter- rors of diſtreſs, and ſome the gayeties of proſperity. Thus roſe the two modes of 1mitation, known by the names of tragedy and comedy, compolitions intended to promote different ends by contrary means, and conſider- ed as ſo little allied, that I do not recolle& among the Greeks or Romans a ſingle writer who attempted both. Shakipeare has united the powers of exciting laughter and forrow not only in one mind, but in one compoſition. Almoſt all his plays are divided between ſerious and lu- dicrous characters, and, in the ſucceſſive evolutions of the deſign, ſometimes produce ſeriouſneſs and forrow, and ſometimes levity and laughter. That this is a practice contrary to the rules of criticiſm will be readily allowed; but there is always an appeal open from criticiſm to nature. The end of writing is to inſtruct; the end of poetry is to inſtruct by pleaſing. That the mingled drama may convey all the initruction of tragedy or comedy cannot be denied, becauſe it in- _ cludes both in its alternations of exhibition, and ap- proaches nearer than either to the appearance of life, by ſhewing how great machinations and tlender deſigns may promote or obviate one another, and the high and the low co-operate in the general ſyſtem by unavoidable con- catenation. _ | It is objected, that by this change of ſcenes the paſ- ſions are interrupted in their progreſſion, and that the | A+} - principal s PR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. principal event, being not advanced by a due gradation of preparatory incidents, wants at laſt the power to move, which conſtitutes the perfection of dramatick poe- try. This reaſoning is ſo ſpecious, that it is received as true even by thoſe who in daily experience feel it to be falſe. The interchanges of mingled ſcenes ſeldom fail to produce the intended viciſſitudes of paſſion. Fiction cannot move ſo much, but that the attention may be eaſily transferred; and though it muſt be allowed that pleaſing melancholy be ſometimes interrupted by un- welcome levity, yet let it be conſidered likewiſe, that melancholy is often not pleaſing, and that the diſturbance of one man may be the relief of another; that different auditors have different habitudes; and that, upon the whole, all pleaſure conſiſts in variety. | The players, who in their edition divided our author's works into comedies, hiſtories, and tragedies, ſeem not to have diſtinguiſhed the three kinds, by any very exact or definite 1deas. An action which ended happily to the principal per- ſons, however ſerious or diſtreſsful through its interme- diate incidents, in their opinion conſtituted a comedy. This idea of a comedy continued long amongſt us, and plays were written, which, by changing the cataſtrophe, were tragedies to-day, and comedies to-morrow. Tragedy was not in thoſe times a poem of more gene- ral dignity or elevation than comedy ; it required only a calamitous concluſion, with which the common criticiſm of that age was ſatisfied, whatever lighter pleaſure it afforded in its progreſs. Hiſtory was a ſeries of actions, with no other than _ chronological ſucceſſion, independent on each other, and without any tendency to introduce or regulate the con- clufion. It is not always very nicely diſtinguiſhed from tragedy. There is not much nearer approach to unity of action in the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra, than in the hiſtory of Richard the Second. But a hiſtory might be continued through many plays; as it had no plan, it had no limits, | 1 : Throu gh DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE :- 9 Through all theſe denominations of the drama, Shak- ſpeare's mode of compoſition is the ſame ; an interchange of ſeriouſneſs and merriment, by which the mind is ſof- tened at one time, and exhilarated at another. But whatever be his purpoſe, whether to gladden or depreſs, or to conduct the ſtory, without vehemence or emotion, through tracts of eaſy and familiar dialogue, he never fails to attain his purpoſe; as he commands us, we laugh or mourn, or fit ſilent with quiet expectation, in tran- uillity without indifference. | | = — When Shakſpeare's plan is underſtood, moſt of the criticiſms of Rhymer and Voltaire vaniſh away. The play of Hamlet is opened, without impropriety, by two centinels; Iago bellows at Brabantio's window, without injury to the ſcheme of the play, though in terms which a modern audience would not eafily endure ; the charac- ter of Polonius is ſeaſonable and uſeful ; and the Grave- _ diggers themſelves may be heard with applauſe. Shakſpeare engaged in dramatick poetry with the world open before him ; the rules of the ancients were yet known to few; the publick judgment was unformed z he had no example of ſuch fame as might force him upon imitation, nor criticks of ſuch authority as might reſtrain his extravagance : he therefore indulged his natural diſ- poſition, and his diſpoſition, as Rhymer has remarked, led him to comedy. In tragedy he often writes with great appearance of toil and ſtudy, what is written at laſt with little felicity ; but in his comick ſcenes, he ſeems to produce without labour, what no labour can improve. In tragedy he is always ſtruggling after ſome occaſion to be comick, but in comedy he ſeems to repoſe, or to luxuriate, as in a mode of thinking congenial to his nature. In his tragick ſcenes there is always ſomething wanting, but his comedy often ſurpaſſes expeCtation or deſire. His comedy pleaſes by the thoughts and the lan- guage, and his tragedy for the greater part by incident and action. His tragedy ſeems to be ſkill, his comedy to be inſtinct. i, The force of his contick ene ba nution from the changes made by a century and a half, ; | in i | TO DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. in manners or in words. As his perſonages act upon principles ariſing from genuine paſſion, very little modi- bed by particular forms, their pleaſures and vexations are communicable to all times and to all places ; they are natural, and therefore durable; the adventitious pe- culiarities of perſonal habits, are only ſuperficial dies, bright and pleaſing for a little while, yet ſoon fading to a dim tinct, without any remains of former luftre ; but the diſcriminations of true paſſion are the colours of na- ture; they pervade the whole maſs, and can only periſh with the body that exhibits them. The accidental com- Poſitions of heterogeneous modes are diſſolved by the chance which combined them; but the uniform ſimpli- city of primitive qualities neither admits increaſe, nor ſuffers decay. The ſand heaped by one flood is ſcattered by another, but the rock always continues in its place. 'The ftream of time, which 1s continually waſhing the diſſoluble fabricks of other poets, paſſes without injury by the adamant of Shakſpeare. | If there be, what I believe there is, in every nation, a ſtile which never becomes obſolete, a certain mode of phraſeology ſo conſonant and congenial to the analogy and principles of its reſpective language, as to remain ſettled and unaltered; this ſtyle is probably to be ſought in the common intercourſe ef life, among thoſe who ſpeak only to be underſtood, without ambition of elegance. The polite are always catching modiſh innovations, and the learned depart from eſtabliſhed forms of ſpeech, in Hope of finding or making better; thoſe who wiſh for diſtinction forſake the vulgar, when the vulgar is right; but there is a converſation above groſſneſs and below re- finement, where propriety reſides, and where this poet ſeems to have gathered his comick dialogue. He is therefore more agreeable to the ears of the preſent age than any other author equally remote, and among his other excellencies deſerves to be ſtudied as one of the original maſters of our language. a e Theſe obſervations are to be conſidered not as unex- - ceptionably conftant, but as containing general and pre- dominant truth. Shakſpeare's familiar dialogue is af- 1 | firmed DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE, 11 firmed to be ſmooth and clear, yet not wholly without ruggedneſs or difficulty; as a country may be eminently fruitful, though it has ſpots unfit for cultivation: his characters are praiſed as natural, though their ſentiments are ſometimes forced, and their actions improbable; as the earth upon the whole 1s ſpherical, though its ſurface is varied with protuberances and cavities. | Shakſpeare with his excellencies has likewiſe faults, and faults ſufficient to obſcure and overwhelm any other merit. I ſhall ſhew them in the proportion in which they appear to me, without envious malignity or ſuper- ſtitious veneration. No queſtion can be more innocently diſcuſſed than a dead poet's pretenſions to renown ; and little regard is due to that bigotry which ſets candour higher than truth. | | | His firſt defect is that to which may be imputed moft of the evil in books or in men. He ſacrifices virtue to convenience, and is ſo much more careful to pleaſe than to inſtruct, that he ſeems to write without any moral pur- oſe. From his writings indeed a ſyſtem of ſocial duty may be ſelected, for he that thinks reaſonably muſt think morally ; but his precepts and axioms drop caſually from him; he makes no juſt diſtribution of good or evil, nor is always careful to ſhew in the virtuous a diſapprobation of the wicked; he carries his perſons indifferently through right and wrong, and at the cloſe diſmiſſes them without further care, and leaves their examples to operate by chance. This fault the barbarity of his age cannot extenuate; for it is always a writer's duty to make the world better, and juſtice 1s a virtue independent on time or place. | 8 8 5 | ſhe plots are often ſo looſely formed, that a very ſlight conſideration may improve them, and ſo careleſsly ' purſued, that he ſeems not always fully to comprehend his own deſign, He omits opportunities of inſtructing or delighting, which the train of his ſtory ſeems to force upon him, and apparently reje&s thoſe exhibitions which would be more affecting, for the ſake of thoſe which are more eaſy. | | | 0 It 12 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. It may be obſerved, that in many of his plays the latter part is evidently neglected. When he found himſelf near the end of his work, and in view of his reward, he ſhortened the labour to ſnatch the profit. He therefore remits his efforts where he ſhould moſt vigorouſly exert them, and his cataſtrophe is improbably produced or im- perfectly repreſented, ; 8 | He had no regard to diſtinction of time or place, but gives to one age or nation, without ſcruple, the cuſtoms, inſtitutions, and opinions of another, at the expence not only of likelihood, but of poſſibility. Theſe faults Pope has endeavoured, with more zeal than judgment, to transfer to his imagined interpolators. We need not wonder to find Hector quoting Ariſtotle, when we ſee the loves of Theſeus and Hippolyta combined with the Go- thick mythology of fairies. . Shakſpeare, indeed, was not the only violator of chronology, for in the ſame age Sidney, who wanted not the advantages of learning, has, in his Arcadia, confounded the paſtoral with the feudal times, the days of innocence, quiet, and ſecurity, with thoſe of turbulence, violence, and adventure, | In his comick ſcenes he is ſeldom very ſucceſsful, when he engages his characters in reciprocations of ſmartneſs and conteſts of ſarcaſm ; their jeſts are com- monly groſs, and their pleaſantry licentious ; neither his gentlemen nor his ladies have much delicacy, nor are ſufficiently diſtinguiſhed from his clowns by any appear- | ance of refined manners. Whether he repreſented the real converſation of his time is not eaſy to determine; the reign of Elizabeth is commonly ſuppoſed to have been a time of ſtatelineſs, formality, and reſerve, yet perbaps the relaxations of that ſeverity were not very elegant. There muſt, however, have been always ſome modes of gaiety preferable to others, and a writer ought to chuſe the beſt. | | | In tragedy his performance ſeems conſtantly to be worſe, as his labour 1s more. The effuſions of paſſion, which exigence forces out, are for the moſt part ſtriking and energetick; but whenever he ſolicits his invention, or ſtrains his faculties, the offspring of his throes DR. JOHNSON*'S PREFACE. 13 throes is tumour, meannels, tediouſneſs, and obſcu- rity. | | _ In narration he affects a diſproportionate pomp of diction, and a weariſome train of circumlocution, and tells the incident imperfectly in many words, which might have been more plainly delivered in few. Nar- ration in dramatick poetry is naturally tedious, as it is unanimated and inactive, and obſtructs the progreſs of the action; it ſhould therefore always be rapid, and en- livened by frequent interruption. Shakſpeare found it an encumbrance, and inſtead of lightening it by brevity, endeavoured to recommend it by dignity and ſplendor, His declamations or ſet ſpeeches are commonly cold and weak, for his power was the power of nature ; when he endeavoured, like other tragick writers, to catch op- portunities of amplification, and inſtead of inquiring what the occaſion demanded, to ſhew how much his ſtores of knowledge could ſupply, he ſeldom eſcapes without the pity or reſentment of his reader. It is incident to him to be now and then entangled with an unwieldy ſentiment, which he cannot well ex- preſs, and will not reject; he ſtruggles with it a while, and if it continues ſtubborn, compriſes it in words ſuch as occur, and leaves it to be difentangled and evolved by thoſe who have more leiſure to beſtow upon it. Not that always where the language is intricate.the thought is ſubtle, or the image always great where the line is bulky ; the equality of words to things is very often neglected, and trivial ſentiments and vulgar ideas diſappoint the attention, to which they are recommend- ed by ſonorous epithets and ſwelling figures. But the admirers of this great poet have moſt reaſon to complain when he approaches neareſt to his higheſt excellence, and ſeems fully reſolved to fink them in de- jection, and mollify them with tender emotions by the tall of greatneis, the danger of innocence, or the croſſes of love. What he does beſt, he ſoon ceaſes to do. He is not long ſoft and pathetick without ſome idle conceit, or contemptible equivocation. He no ſooner begins to move, than he counteracts himſelf; and terror and pity, as 14 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. as they are riſing in the mind, are checked and blaſted by ſudden frigidity. | A quibble is to Shakſpeare, what luminous vapours are to the traveller: he follows it at all adventures; it is ſure to lead him out of his way, and ſure to engulf him in the mire, [t has ſome malignant power over his mind, and its faſcinations are irreſiſtible. Whatever be the \ dignity or profundity of his diſquiſition, whether he be enlarging knowledge or exalting affection, whether he be amuſing attention with incidents, or enchaining it in ſuſpenſe, lec but a quibble ſpring up before him, and he leaves his work unfiniſhed, A quibble is the golden apple for which he will always turn aſide from his career, or ſtoop from his elevation. A quibble, poor and barren as it is, gave him ſuch delight, that he was content to purchaſe it, by the ſacrifice of reaſon, propriety, and truth. A quibble was to him the fatal Cleopatra for which he loſt the world, and was content to loſe it. It will be thought ſtrange, that, in enumerating the , defects of this writer, I have not — mentioned his ne- glect of the unities; his violation of thoſe laws which have been inſtituted and eſtabliſhed by the joint autho- rity of poets and of criticks. | | For his other deviations from the art of writing, I re- ſign him to critical juſtice, without making any other demand in his favour, than that which muſt be indulged to all human excellence; that his virtues. be rated with his failings : but, from the cenſure which this irregu- larity may bring upon him, I ſhall, with due reverence to that learning which I mult oppoſe, adventure to try how I can defend him. | | His hiſtories, being neither tragedies nor comedies, are not ſubje& to any of their laws; nothing more is neceſſary to all the praiſe which they expect, than that the changes of action be ſo prepared as to be underſtood, that the incidents be various and affecting, and the cha- racters conſiſtent, natural, and diſtinct. No other unity | is intended, and therefore none is to be ſought. | In his other works he has well enough preſerved the unity of action. He has not, indeed, an intrigue regu. arly DR. JOHN SONS PREFACE. ug larly perplexed and regularly unravelled ; he does not endeavour to hide his deſign only to diſcover it, for this is ſeldom the order of real events, and Shakſpeare is the poet of nature: but his plan has commonly what Ariſtotle requires, a beginning, a middle, and an end; one event 1s concatenated with another, and the concluſion fol- lows by eaſy . conſequence. There are perhaps ſome incidents that might be ſpared, as in other poets there is much talk that only fills up time upon the ſtage ; but the general ſyſtem makes gradual advances, and the end of the play is the end of expectation. £ To the unities of time and place he has ſhewn no re- gard ; and perhaps a nearer view of the principles on which they ſtand will diminiſh their value, and withdraw from them the veneration which, from the time of Cor- ille, they have very generally received, by diſcover- ing that they have given more trouble to the poet, than pleaſure to the auditor, | : | The neceſſity of obſerving the unities of time and place ariſes from the ſuppoſed neceſſity of making the drama credible. The criticks hold jit impoſſible, that an action of months or years can be poſſibly believed to paſs in three hours; or that the ſpectator can ſuppoſe himſelf to ſit in the theatre, while ambaſſadors go and return be- tween diſtant kings, while armies are levied and towns beſieged, while an exile wanders and returns, or till he whom they ſaw courting his miſtreſs, ſhall lament the untimely fall of his ſon. The mind revolts from evident falſehood, and fiction loſes its force when it departs from the reſemblance of reality. | | From the narrow limitation of time neceſſarily ariſes the contraction of place. The ſpectator, who knows that he ſaw the firſt act at Alexandria, cannot ſuppoſe that he ſees the next at Rome, at a diftance to which not the dra- gons of Medea could, in ſo ſhort a time, have tranſported him; he knows with certainty that he has not changed. his place; and he knows that place cannot change itſelf; that what was a houſe cannot become a plain; that what was Thebes can never be Perſepolis. Such w ˙ü˙1 ͤ k ]⅛¶uñßf̃ ̃ꝗ ‚ͤ * PFF 22 — 16 DR. JOHNSON*S PREFACE. Such is the triumphant language with which a eritick exults over the miſery of an irregular poet, and exults commonly without reſiſtance or reply. It is time there- fore to tell him, by the authority of Shakſpeare, that he aſſumes, as an unqueſtionable principle, a N mar which, while his breath is forming it into words, his underſtand- ing pronounces to be falſe, It is falſe, that any repre- ſentation is miſtaken for reality ; that any dramatick fable in its materiality was ever credible, or, for a ſingle moment, was ever credited. / The objection ariſing from the impoſſibility of paſſing the firſt hour at Mexandria, and the next at Rome, ſup- poſes, that when the play opens the ſpectator really ima- gines himſelf at Alexandria, and believes that his walk to the theatre has been a voyage to Egypt, and that he lives in the days of Antony and Cleopatra. Surely he that imagines this may imagine more. He that can take the ſtage at one time for the palace of the Ptolemies, may take it in half an hour for the promontory of Actium. Deluſion, if deluſion be admitted, has no certain limita- tion; if the ſpectator can be once perſuaded, that his old acquaintance are Alexander and Cæſar, that a room illuminated with candles is the plain of Pharſalia, or the bank of Granicus, he is in a ſtate of elevation above the reach of reaſon, or of truth, and from the heights of empyrean poetry, may deſpiſe the circumſcriptions of terreſtrial nature. There is no reaſon why a mind thus wandering in ecſtaſy ſhould count the clock, or why an hour ſhould not be a century in that calenture of the brains that can make the _ a held. The truth is, that the ſpectators are always in their ſenſes, and know, from the firſt act to the laſt, that the ſtage is only a ſtage, and that the players are only play- ers. They come to hear a certain number of lines re- cited with juſt geſture and elegant modulation. The lines relate to ſome action, and an action muſt be in. ſome place; but the different actions that complete a ſtory may be in places very remote from each other; and where is the abſurdity of allowing that ſpace to repre- Fat arſe Athens, and then Sicily, which was always known * DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 17 known to be neither Sicily nor Athens, but a modern theatre. 15 PET By ſuppoſition, as place is introduced, time may be extended ; the time required by the fable elapſes for the molt part between the acts; for, of ſo much of the action as is repreſented, the real and poetical duration is the ſame. If, in the firſt act, preparations for war againſt Mithridates are repreſented to. be made in Rome, the event of the war may, without abſurdity, be repreſent- ed, in the cataſtrophe, as happening in Pontus 5 we know that there is neither war, nor preparation for war; we know that we are neither in Rome nor Pontus; that neither Mithridates nor Lucullus are before us. The dra- ma. exhibits ſucceſſive imitations of ſucceſſive actions, and why may not the ſecond imitation repreſent an action that happened years after the firſt; if it be ſo connected with it, that nothing but time can be ſuppoſed to inter- vene. Time is, of all modes of exiſtence, moſt obſequi- ous to the imagination; a lapſe of years is as eaſily con- ceived as a paſſage of hours. In contemplation we eaſily contract the time of real actions, and therefore willingly permit it to be contracted when we only ſee their imi- tation. 2 It will be aſked, how the 4 moves, if its not credited. It is credited with all the credit due to a drama. It is credited, whenever it moves, as a juſt picture of a real . as repreſenting to the auditor what he would himſelf feel, if he were to do or ſuffer what is there feigned to he ſuffered or to be done. The reflection that ſtrikes the heart is not, that the evils be- fore us are real evils, but that they are evils to which we ourſelves may be expoſed. If there be any fallacy, it is not that we fancy the players, but that we fancy ourſelves unhappy for a moment ; but we rather lament the poſſi- bility than ſuppoſe the preſence of miſery, as a mother weeps over her babe, when ſhe remembers that death may take it from her. The delight of tragedy proceeds from our conſciouſneſs of fiction; if we thought murders and treaſons real, they would plegſe no more. | Vor. I. [B] Ilmitations —— — — — —— — — — - rr. e * rr * A — A — 18 DR. JOHNSON*S PREFACE. Imitations produce pain or pleaſure, not becauſe-they are miſtaken tor realities, but becauſe they bring reali- ties to mind. When the imagination is recreated by a painted landſcape, the trees are not ſuppoſed capable to give us ſhade, or the fountains coolneſs ; but we confider, how we ſhould be pleaſed with ſuch fountains playing beſide us, and ſuch woods waving over us. We are agi- tated in reading the hiſtory of Heury the Fifih, yet no man takes his book for the field of Agincourt, A dra- matick exhibition is a book recited with concomitants that increaſe or diminiſh its effect. Familiar comedy is often more powerful on the theatre, than in the page; imperial tragedy is always leſs. The humour of Pe- truchio may be heightened by grimace; but what voice or what geſture can hope to add dignity or force to the ſoliloquy of Cato? | | A play read, affects the mind like a play ated. It is therefore evident, that the action is not ſuppoſed to be real; and it follows, that between the acts a longer or ſhorter time may be allowed to paſs, and that no more account of ſpace or duration is to be taken by the audi- tor of a drama, than by the reader of a narrative, before whom may paſs in an hour the life of a hero, or the re- volutions of an empire. | _— Whether Shakſpeare knew the unities, and rejected them by deſign, or deviated from them by happy igno- rance, it is, I think, impoſſible to decide, and uſeleſs to enquire. We may reaſonably ſuppoſe, that, when he roſe to notice, he did not want the counſels and admo- nitions of ſcholars and criticks, and that he at laſt de- liberately perſiſted in a practice, which he might have begun by chance. As nothing is effential to the fable, but unity of action, and as the unities of time and place ariſe evidently from falſe aſſumptions, and, by circum- ſcribing the extent of the drama, leſſen its variety, I cannot think it much to be lamented, that they were not known by him, or not obſerved: nor, if ſuch another poet could ariſe, ſhould I very vehemently reproach him, that his firſt a& paſſed at Venice, and his next in Cyprus. Such violations of rules merely. poſitive, become the comprehenſive DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 19 comprehenſive genius of Shakſpeare, and ſuch cenſures are ſuitable to the minute and flender criticiſm of Vol- taire: - L | | 2 Non uſque adeo permiſcuit inis | Longus ſumma dies, ut non, fi voce Metelli Serventur leges, malint a Ceſare tolli. Yet when I ſpeak thus ſlightly of dramatick rules, I cannot but recollect how much wit and learning may be produced againſt me; before ſuch authorities I am afraid to ſtand, not that I think the preſent queſtion one of thoſe that are to be decided by mere authority, but be- cauſe it is to be ſuſpected, that theſe precepts have not been ſo eaſily received, but for better reaſons than I have yet been able to find. The reſult of my enquiries, in which it would be ludicrous to boaſt of impartiality, is, that the unities of time and place are not eſſential to a Juſt drama, that though they may ſometimes conduce to leaſure, they are always to be ſacrificed to the nobler eauties of variety and inſtruction; and that a play, written with nice obſervation of critical rules, 1s to be contemplated as an elaborate curioſity, as the product of ſuperfluous and oſtentatious art, by which is ſhewn, rather what is poſſible, than what is neceſſary. 80 He that, without diminution of any other excellence, ſhall preſerve all the unities unbroken, deſerves the like applauſe with the architect, who ſhall diſplay all the orders of architecture in a citadel, without any 'deduc- tion from its ſtrength ; but the principal beauty of a cita- del is to exclude the enemy; and the greateſt graces of a play are to copy nature, and inſtru life. Perhaps, what I have here not dogmatically but de- liberately written, may recal the principles of the drama to a new examination. I am almoſt frighted at my own temerity ; and when I eſtimate the fame and the ſtrength of thoſe that maintain the contrary W am ready to ſink down in reverential filence ; as Eneas withdrew from the defence of Troy, when he ſaw Neptune ſhaking the wall, and Juno heading the beſiegers. ; Thofe whom my arguments cannot perſuade to give their approbation to the judgment of Shakſpeare, will Mae on | B 2 ceeaſily, —— x —— for its rarity. 20 DR. IOHNSON'S PREFACE. eaſily, if they conſider the condition of his life, make ſome allowance for his ignorance. _. 1 Every man's performances, to be rightly eſti mated, muſt be compared with the ſtate of the age in which he lived, and with his own particular opportunities; and though to a reader a book be not worſe or better for the circumſtances of the author, yet as there is always a ſilent reference of human works to human abilities, and as the enquiry, how far man may extend his deſigns, or how high he may rate his native force, 1s of far greater dig- nity than in what rank we ſhall place any particular performance, curioſity is always buſy to diſcover the in- ſtruments, as well as to ſurvey the workmanſhip, to know how much is to be aſcribed to original powers, and how much to caſual and adventitious help. The palaces of Peru or Mexico were certainly mean and incommodious habitations, if compared to the houſes of European mo- narchs; yet who could forbear to view them with aſto- niſhment, who remembered that they were built without the uſe of iron? | 5 | The Engliſh nation, in the time of Shakſpeare, was yet ſtruggling to emerge from barbarity. The philology of Italy had been tranſplanted hither in the reign of Henry the Eighth ; and the learned languages had been ſucceſsfully cultivated by Lilly, Linacre, and More ; by Pole, Cheke, and Gardiner; and afterwards by Smith, Clerk, Haddon, and Aſcham. Greek was now taught to boys in the principal ſchools; and thoſe who united elegance with learning, read, with great diligence, the Italian and Spnaiſh poets. But literature was yet con- fined. to profeſſed ſcholars, or to men and women of high rank, The publick was groſs and dark; and to be able to read and write, was an accomplithment ſtill valued Nations, like individuals, have 15 infancy. A . People newly awakened to literary curioſity, being yet unacquainted with the true ſtate of things, knows not how to judge of that which is propoſed as its reſem- blance. Whatever is remote from common appearances is always welcome to vulgar, as to childiſh credulity E Oy En i an DR. JOHNSON*'S- PREFACE. 221 and of a country unenlightened by learning, the whole people is the vulgar. The ſtudy of thoſe who then aſpired to plebeian learning was laid out upon adventures, gi- ants, dragons, and enchantments. @T he Death of Arthur was the favourite volume. ay | The mind, which has feaſted on the luxurious won- ders of fiction, has no taſte of the inſipidity of truth. A play, which 1mitated only the common occurrences of - - the world, would, upon the admirers of Palmerin and Guy of Warwick, have made little impreſſion ; he that wrote for ſuch an audience was under the neceſſity of looking round for ſtrange events and fabulous tranſac- tions, and that incredibility, by which maturer know- ledge is offended, was the chief recommendation of writings, to unſkilful curioſity. 43143 3; Our author's plots are generally borrowed from noyels ; and it. is reaſonable to ſuppoſe, that he choſe the moſt popular, ſuch as were read by many, and related by more; for his audience could not have followed him through the intricacies of the drama, had they not held the thread of the ſtory in their hgAandse. b The ſtories, which we now find only in remoter au- thors, were in his time acceſſible and familiar. The fable of As you [ike it, which is ſuppoſed to be copied from Chaucer's Gamelyn, was a little pamphlet of thoſe times; and old Mr. Cibber remembered the tale of Hamlet in plain Engliſh proſe, which the criticks have now to ſeek in Saxo Grammaticus. .. / n M 4254964 . His Engliſh hiſtories he took from Engliſh chronicles and Engliſh ballads; aud as the ancient writers were: made known to his countrymen by verſions, they ſup- plied him with new ſabje&s ; he dilated ſome of Plu- tarch's lives into plays, when they had been tranſlated by North. _ | 12659 | - His plots, whether hiſtorical or fabulous, are always, crouded with incidents, by which the attention-of a rude people was more eaſily caught than by ſentiment or ar- gumentation; and ſuch is the power of the marvellous, even over thoſe who deſpiſe it, that every man finds: his mind more ſtrongly ſeized by the tragedies of Shakſpeare E a1 1 LB 31. than 22 DR, JOHNSON'S PREFACE. than of any other writer; others pleaſe us by particular ſpeeches, but he always makes us anxious for the event, and has perhaps excelled all but Homer in ſecuring the firſt purpoſe of a writer, by exciting reſtleſs and un- quenchable curioſity, and com work to read it through. A ett b. e 4 The ſhows and buſtle with which his plays abound have the ſame original. As knowledge advances, pleaſure ffes from the eye to the ear, but returns, as it declines, from the ear to the eye. Thoſe to whom our author's Jabours were exhibited had more ſkill in pomps or pro- pelling him that reads his by . ceflions than in poetieal language, and perhaps wanted ſome viſible and diſeriminated events, as comments on the dialogue. He knew how he ſhould moſt pleaſe; and whether his practice is more agreeable to nature, or whether his example has prejudiced the nation, we ſtill find that on car ſtage ſomething muſt be done as well as faid, and inactive declatnation is very coldly heard however muſical or elegant, paſſionate or ſublime. Voltaire expreſſes his wonder, that our author's ex- travagancies are endured by a nation, which has ſeen the 2 of Cato. Let him be anſwered, that Addiſon iks the language of poets, and Shakſpeare, of men. e find in Cato innumerable beauties which enamour us of its author, but we ſee nothing that acquaints us with human ſentiments or human actions; we place it with the faireſt and the nobleſt progeny which judgment pro- pagates by conjunction with learning; but Oshello is the vigorous and vivacious offspring of obſervation impreg- nated by genius. Cato affords a ſplendid exhibition of artificial and kRitious manners, and delivers juſt and noble ſentiments, in dition eaſy, elevated, and harmo- nious, but its hopes and fears communicate no vibration to the heart; the compoſition refers us only to the writer; we pronounce the name of Cato, but we think moe > oO Or Tn, e The work of a correct and regular writer is a garden accurately formed and diligently planted, varied with ſnades, and ſcented with flowers; the compoſition of Shakſpeare is a foreſt, in which - oaks extend their 4 10 | branches, * DR. JOHNSON 'S PREFACE. 23 branches, and pines tower in the air, interſperſed ſome- times with weeds and brambles, and ſometimes giving ſhelter to myrtles and to roſes; filling the eye with aw- ful pomp, and gratifying the mind with endleſs diverſity. Other poets diſplay cabinets of precious rarities, mi- nutely finiſhed, wrought into ſhape, and poliſhed into brightneſs. Shakſpeare opens a mine which contains gold and diamonds in unexhauſtible plenty, though clouded by incruſtations, debaſed by impurities, and mingled with a maſs of meaner minerals. | 1 It has been much diſputed, whether Shakſpeare owed his excellence to his own native force, or whether he had the common helps of ſcholaſtick education, the pre- cepts of critical ſcience, and the examples. of ancient authors. | There has always prevailed a tradition, that Shak- ſpeare wanted learning, that he had no regular educa- tion, nor much ſkill in the dead languages. Jonſon, his friend, affirms, that be had /mall Latin, and leſs Greet; who, beſides that he had no imaginable temptation to falſehood, wrote at a time when the character and ac- quiſitions of Shakſpeare were known to multitudes, His evidence ought therefore to decide the controverſy, un- leſs ſome teſtimony of equal force could be oppoſed. Some have imagined, that they have diſcovered deep learning in many imitations of old writers; but the ex- amples which 1 have known urged, were drawn from books tranſlated in his time; or were ſuch eaſy coinci- dences of thought, as will happen to all who confider the ſame ſubjeQs ; or ſuch remarks on life or axioms of mo- . rality as float in converſation, and are tranſmitted through the world in proverbial ſentences. I have found it remarked, that, in this important ſen- tence, Go, before, 11 follow, we read a tranſlation of, I prae, ſeguar. I have been told, that when Caliban, after a pleaſing dream, ſays, I cry'd zo fleep again, the author imitates Anacreon, who had, like every other man, the ſame wiſh on the ſame occaſion. There are a few paſſages which may paſs for imita- tions, but ſo few, that the exception only confirms the ThE 15 4] rule ; 24 | DR. JOHNSON*'S PREFACE. rule; he obtained them from accidental quotations, or by oral communication, and as he uſed what he had, would have uſed more if he had obtained it. The Comedy of Errors is confeſſedly taken from the Menæchmi of Plautus; from the only play of Plautus which was then in Engliſh, What can be more proba- ble, than that he who copied that, would have copied more; but that thoſe which were not tranſlated were in- acceſlible ? ro} Hot | | Whether he knew the modern languages is uncertain. That his plays have ſome French ſcenes proves but little; he might eaſily procure them to be written, and proba- bly, even though he had known the language in the com- mon degree, he could not have written it without aſſiſt- ance. In the ſtory of Romeo and Fuliet he is obſerved to have followed the Engliſh tranſlation, where it deviates from the Italian; but this on the other part proves no- thing againſt his knowledge of the original. He was to copy, not what he knew himſelf, but what was known to his audience. 2% 2 It is moſt likely that he had learned Latin ſufficiently to make him acquainted with conſtruction, but that he never advanced to an eaſy peruſal of the Roman authors. Concerning his {kill in modern languages, I can find no ſufficient ground of determination; but as no imitations of French or Italian authors have been diſcovered, though the Italian poetry was then high in eſteem, I am inclined to believe, that he read little more than Engliſh, and —— for his fables only ſuch tales as he found tranſ- ted. I; | That much knowledge is ſcattered over his works is very juſtly obſerved by Pope, but it is often ſuch know- ledge as books did not ſupply. He that will underſtand Shakſpeare, muſt not be content to ftudy him in the cloſet, he mutt look for his meaning ſometimes among the ſports of the field, and ſometimes among the manu- factures of the ſhop. There is however proof enough that he was a very dili- gent reader, nor was our language then ſo indigent of books, but that he might very liberally indulge his cu- | rioſity DR. JOHNSON'Ss PREFACE. 28 rioſity without excurſion into foreign literature. Many of the Roman authors were tranflated, and ſome of the Greek; the Reformation had filled the kingdom with theological learning; moſt of the topicks of human diſ- quiſition had found Engliſh writers; and poetry had been cultivated, not only with diligence, but ſucceſs. This was a ſtock of knowledge ſufficient for a mind ſo capable of appropriating and improving it. r ee But the greater part of his excellence was the product of his own genius. He found the Engliſh ſtage in a ſtate of the utmoſt rudeneſs ; no eſſays either in tragedy or comedy had appeared, from which it could be diſcovered to what degree of delight either one or other might be carried. Neither character nor dialogue were yet un- derſtood. Shakſpeare may be truly faid to have intro- duced them both amongſt us, and in ſome of his happier ſcenes to have carried them both to the utmoſt height. By what gradations of improvement he proceeded, is not eaſily known; for the chronology of his works is yet unſettled, Rowe is of opinion, that perþaps we are not to look for his beginning, like thoſe of other writers, in his leaſt per fed works ; art had jo little, and nature ſo large a ſhare in what he did, that for ought I know, ſays he, the performances of his youth, as they were the moſt vigorous, were the beſt. But the power of nature is only the power of uſing to any certain purpoſe the materials which dili- gence procures, or opportunity ſupplies. Nature gives no man knowledge, and when images are collected by ſtudy and experience, can only aſſiſt in combining or applying them. Shakſpeare, however favoured by nature, could impart only what he had learned; and as he muſt in- creaſe his ideas, like other mortals, by gradual acqui- fition, he, like them, grew wiſer as he grew older, could diſplay life better, as he knew it more, and in- ſtruct with more efficacy, as he was himſelf more amply inſtructe t. There is a vigilance of obſervation and accuracy of diſtinction which books and precepts cannot confer ; from this almoſt all original and native excellence pro- ceeds. Shakipeare muſt have looked upon mankind with per- 26 DR. JOHNSON*'S PREFACE. perſpicacity, in the higheſt degree curious and attentive. Other writers borrow their characters from preceding writers, and diverſify them only by the accidental appen- dages of preſent manners; the dreſs is a little varied, but the body 1s the ſame. Our author had both matter and form to provide; for, except the characters of Chau- cer, to whom I think he is not much indebted, there were no writers in Engliſh, and perhaps not many in other modern languages, which ſhewed life in its native colours. % EN, EN | The conteſt about the original benevolence or malig- nity of man had not yet commenced. Speculation had not yet attempted to analyſe the mind, to trace the paſ- fions to their ſources, to unfold the ſeminal principles of vice and virtue, or ſound the depths of the heart for the motives of action. All thoſe enquiries, which from that time that human nature became the faſhionable ſtudy, have been made ſometimes with nice diſcernment, but often with idle ſubtilty, were yet unattempted. The tales, with which the infancy of learning was ſatisfied, exhibited only the ſuperficial appearances of action, re- lated the events, but omitted the cauſes, and were form- ed for ſuch as delighted in wonders rather than in truth. Mankind was not then to be ſtudied in the cloſet; he that would know the world, was under the neceſſity of gleaning his own remarks, by mingling as he could in its buſineſs and amuſements. | | Boyle congratulated himſelf upon his high birth, be- cauſe it favoured his curioſity, by facilitating his acceſs. Shakſpeare had no ſuch advantage; he came to London a needy adventurer, and lived for a time by very mean employments. Many works of genius and learning have been performed in ſtates of life that appear very little favourable to thought or to enquiry; ſo many, that he who conſiders them is inclined to think that he ſees en- terprize and perſeverance predominating over all ex- ternal agency, and bidding help and hindrance vaniſh before them. The genius of Shakipeare was not to be depreſſed by the weight of poverty, nor limited by the narrow converſation to which men in want are inevitably | condemned; DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACR. 27 condemned; the incumbrances of his fortune were ſhaken from his mind, as dew-drops from a lion's naue. Though he had fo many difficulties to encounter, and ſo little aſſiſtance to ſurmount them, he has been able to obtain an exact knowledge of many modes of life, and many caſts of native diſpoſitions; to vary them with great multiplicity ; to mark them by nice diſtinctions; and to ſhew them in full view by proper combinations, In this part of his performances he had none to imitate, but has been himſelf imitated by all ſucceeding writers and it may be doubted, whether from all his ſuceeſſors more maxims of theoretical knowledge, or more rules of practical prudence, can be collected, than he alone has given to his country. | 9 Nor was his attention confined to the actions of men; he was an exact ſurveyor of the inanimate world; his de- ſcriptions have always ſome peculiarities, gathered by contemplating things as they really exiſt. It may be ob- ſerved, that the oldeſt poets of many nations preſerve their reputation, and that the following generations of wit, after a ſhort celebrity, ſink into oblivion. The firſt, whoever they be, muſt take their ſentiments and deſcriptions immediately from knowledge; the reſem. blance is therefore juſt, their deſcriptions are verified by every eye, and their ſentiments acknowledged by every breaſt. Thoſe whom their fame invites to the ſame ſtu- dies, copy partly them, and partly nature, till the books of one age gain ſuch authority, as to ſtand in the place of nature to another, and imitation, always deyjating a little, becomes at laſt capricious and caſual. Shak- ſpeare, whether life or nature be his ſubject, ſhews plainly, that he has ſeen with his own eyes; he gives the image which he receives, not weakened or diſtorted by the intervention of any other mind; the ignorant feel his repreſentations to be juſt, and the learned ſee that they are complete. | Perhaps it would not be eafy to find any author, ex- cept Homer, who invented fo much as Shakſpeare, who ſo much advanced the ſtudies which he cultivated, or effuſed ſo much novelty upon his age or country. pony | orm, 28 DR. JoHNSON's PREFACE. form, the characters, the language, and the ſhows of the Engliſh drama are his. He ſeems, ſays Dennis, to have been the very original of our Engliſh tragical harmony, that is, the harmony of blank werſe, diverſified often by aiffpllable and trifjyllable terminations. For the diverſity Aiſtinguiſbes it from heroick harmony, and by bringing it nearer to common uſe makes it more proper to gain attention, and. more fit for action and dialogue. Such werſe we make auben we are writing proſe; we make ſuch verſe in common conver/ation. wit Lengyier! ef 7 I know not whether this praiſe is rigorouſly juſt. The diſlyllable termination, which the critick rightly appro- priates to the drama, is to be found, though, 1 think, not in Gorboduc, which is confeſſedly before our author; yet in Hieronymo , of which the date is not certain, but which there is reaſon to believe at leaſt as old as his ear- lieſt plays. This however is certain, that he is the firſt who taught either tragedy or comedy to pleaſe, there being no theatrical piece of any older writer, of which the name is known, except to antiquaries and collectors of books, which are ſought becauſe they are ſcarce, and would not have been ſcarce, had they been much eſteemed. , n + end Gi fic; To him we muſt aſcribe the praiſe, unleſs Spenſer may divide it with him, of having firſt diſcovered to how much ſmoothneſs and harmony the Engliſh language could be ſoftened. He has ſpeeches, perhaps ſometimes ſcenes, which have all the delicacy of Rowe, without his effeminacy. He endeavours indeed commonly to ſtrike by the force and vigour of his dialogue, but he never executes his purpole better, than when he tries to ſooth by ſoftneſs. __ e ee nee Vet it muſt be at laſt confeſſed, that as we owe every thing to him, he owes ſomething to us; that, if much of his praiſe is paid by perception and judgment, much is likewiſe given by cuſtom and veneration. We fix our eyes upon his graces, and turn them from his deformi- It appears from the induction of Ben onſon's Bartholomew Fair to have been ated before the year 1590. STEEVENs. | ; Do ties, DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 29 ties, and endure in him what we ſhould in another loath or deſpiſe. If we endured without praiſing, reſpe& for the father of our drama might excuſe us; but I have ſeen, in the book of ſome modern critick, a collection of ano- malies, which ſhew that he has corrupted language by every mode of depravation, but which his admirer has accumulated as a monument of honour. 15 He has ſcenes of undoubted and perpetual excellence, but perhaps not one play, which, if it were now ex- hibited as the work of a contemporary writer, would be heard to the concluſion. I am indeed far from thinking, that his works were wrought to his own ideas of perfec- tion; when they were ſuch as would ſatisfy the audience, they ſatisfied the writer. It is ſeldom that authors, though more ſtudious of fame than Shakſpeare, riſe much above the ſtandard of their own age; to add a little to what is beſt will always be ſufficient for preſent praiſe, and thoſe who find themſelves exalted into fame, are willing to credit their encomiaſts, and to ſpare the labour of contending with themſelves. | It does not appear, that Shakſpeare thought his works worthy of-poſterity, that he levied any ideal tribute upon future times, or had any further proſpect, than of pre- ſent popularity and preſent profit. When his plays had been acted, his hope was at an end; he ſolicited no ad- dition of honour from the reader. - He therefore made no ſcruple to repeat the ſame jeſts in many dialogues, or to entangle different plots by the ſame knot of perplexity, which may be at leaſt forgiven him, by thoſe who recol- lect, that of Congreve's four comedies, two are con- cluded by a marriage in a maſk, by a deception, which perhaps never happened, and which, whether likely or not, he did not invent. So careleſs was this great poet of future fame, that, though he retired to eaſe and plenty, while he was yet little declined into the wale of years, betore he could be diſguſted with fatigue, or diſabled by infirmity, he made no collection of his works, nor deſired to reſcue thoſe that had been already publithed from the deprava- tions that obſcured them, or ſecure to the reſt a better : | deſtiny, — ———— — On OY ——ũ— —G— — — —— — 22 — a — A — AE as 30 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. defiinys by giving them to the world in their genuine Of the plays which bear the name of Shakſpeare in the late editions, the greater part were not publiſhed till about ſeven. years after his death, and the few which appeared in his life are apparently thruſt into the world without the care of the author, and therefore probably without his e , e „ | Oft all the publiſhers, clandeſtine or profeſſed, the negligence and unſkilfulneſs has by the late reviſers been ſufficiently ſhewn. The faults of all are indeed nume- rous and groſs, and have not only corrupted many paſ- | ſages perhaps beyond recovery, but have brought others into ſuſpicion, which are only obſcured by obſolete phraſeology, or by the writer's unſkilfulneſs and affec- tation. Io alter, is more eaſy than to explain, and temerity is a more common quality than diligence. Thoſe who ſaw that they muſt employ conjecture to a certain degree, were willing to indulge it a little fur- ther. Had the author publiſhed his own works, we ſhould have ſat quietly down to diſentangle his intri- cacies, and clear his obſcurities ; but now we tear what we cannot looſe, and eject what we happen not to un- derſtand, — : 8 | Toh The faults are more than could have happened without the concurrence of many cauſes. The ſtyle of Shakſpeare was in itſelf ungrammatical, perplexed, and obſcure ; his works were tranſcribed for the players by thoſe who may be ſuppoſed to have ſeldom underſtood them ; they were tranſmitted by. copiers equally unſkilful, who ſtill multiplied errors ; they were perhaps ſometimes muti- lated by the actors, for the ſake of ſhortening the ſpeeches ; and were at laſt printed without correction of Es 57-55 e ; In this ſtate they remained, not as Dr. Warburton ſuppoſes, becauſe they were unregarded, but becauſe the editor's art was not yet applied to modern languages, and our anceſtors were accuſtomed to ſo much negligence of Engliſh printers, that they could very patiently en- dure it. At laſt an edition was undertaken by Rowe; * | not N N DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 37 not becauſe a poet was to be publiſhed by a poet, for Rowe ſeems to have thought very little on correction or explanation, but that our author's works might appear like thoſe of his fraternity, with the appendages of a life and recommendatory preface. Rowe has been cla- morouſly blamed for not performing what he did not undertake, and it is time that juſtice be done him, by confeſling, that though he ſeems to have had no thought of corruption beyond the printer's errors, yet he has made many emendations, if they were not made before, which his ſucceſſors have received without acknowledgment, - and which, if they had produced them, would have fill- ed pages and pages with. cenſures of the ſtupidity by which the taults were committed, with diſplays of the abſurdities which they involved, with oftentatious expo- fitions of the new reading, and ſelf- congratulations on the happineſs of diſcovering it. | As of the other editors, I have preſerved the prefaces, I have likewiſe borrowed the author's life from Rowe, though not written with much elegance or ſpirit; it relates however what is now to be known, and there- fore deſerves to paſs through all ſucceeding publica- | tions. | | | The nation had been for many years content enough with Mr. Rowe's performance, when Mr. Pope made them acquainted with the true ſtate of Shakſpeare's text, ſhewed that it was extremely corrupt, and gave reaſon to hope that there were means of reforming it. He col- lated the old copies, which none had thought to examine before, and reſtored many lines to their integrity; but; by a very compendious criticiſm, he rejected whatever he diſliked, and thought more of amputation than of cure. I know not why he is commended by Dr. Warburton for diſtinguiſhing the genuine from the ſpurious plays. In this choice he exerted no judgment of his own ; the plays which he received, were given by Hemings and Condel, the firſt editors; and thoſe which he rejected, though, according to the licentiouſneſs of the preſs in thoſe times, they were printed during Shakſpeare's life, | 1 with : ————— — — = == — —-— — * 3 * * * — — AS om — ENIIER ” I. G 2 PR _- # - ——— mepp ties —— — . ˙ 32 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. with his name, had been omitted by his friends, and were never added to his works before the edition of 1664, from which they were copied by the later prin- ters. : This is a work which Pope ſeems to have thought un- worthy of his abilities, being not able to ſuppreſs his contempt of he dull duty of an editor. He underſtood but half his undertaking. The duty of a collator is in- deed dull, yet, like other tedious taſks, is very neceſ- fary ; but an emendatory critick would ill diſcharge his duty, without qualities very different from dulneſs. In peruſing a corrupted piece, he muſt have before him all poſſibilities of meaning, with all poſlibilities of expreſ- ſion. Such muſt be his comprehenſion of thought, and ſuch his copiouſneſs of language. Out of many readings poſſible, he muſt be able to ſelect that which beſt ſuits with the ſtate, opinions, and modes of language pre- vailing in every age, and with his author's particular caſt of thought, and turn of expreſſion. Such muſt be his knowledge, and ſuch his taſte. Conjectural criticiſm demands more than humanity poſſeſſes, and he that ex- erciſes it with moſt praiſe, has very frequent need of indulgence. Let us now be told no more of the dull duty of an editor. | ; Confidence is the common conſequence of ſucceſs. They whoſe excellence of any kind has been loudly cele- brated, are ready to conclude, that their powers are univerſal. Pope's edition fell below his own expecta- tions, and he was ſo much offended, when he was found to have left any thing for others to do, that he paſſed. the latter part of his life in a ſtate of hoſtility with ver- bal criticiſm. | J have retained all his notes, that no fragment of ſo great a writer may be loſt ; his preface, valuable alike for elegance of compoſition and juſtneſs of remark, and containing a general criticiſm on his author, ſo extenfive that little can be added, and ſo exact, that little can be diſputed, every editor has an intereſt to ſuppreſs, but that every reader would demand its inſertion. Pope PDR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 33 Pope was ſucceeded by Theobald, a man of narrow comprehenſion, and ſmall acquiſitions, with no native and intrinſic ſplendor of genius, with little of the arti- ficial light of learning, but zealous for minute accuracy, and not negligent in purſuing it. He collated the ancient copies, and rectified many errors. A man ſo anxiouſly ſcrupulous might have been expected to do more, but what little he did was commonly right, In his reports of copies and editions he is not to be truſted without examination. He ſpeaks ſometimes in- definitely of copies, when he has only one. In his enu- meration of editions, he mentions the two firſt folios as of high, and the third folio as of middle authority ; but the truth is, that the firſt is equivalent to all others, and that the reſt only deviate from it by the printer's negli- gence. Whoever has any of the folios has all, excepting thoſe diverſities which mere reiteration of editions will produce. I collated them all at the beginning, but afterwards uſed only the firſt. | | Of his notes I have generally retained thoſe which he retained himſelf in his ſecond edition, except when they were confuted by ſubſequent annotators, or were too mi- nute to merit preſervation. I have ſometimes adopted his reſtoration of a comma, without inſerting the panegyrick in which he celebrated himſelf for his atchievement. The exuberant excreſcence of his diction I have often lopped, his triumphant exultations over Pope and Rowe I have ſometimes ſuppreſſed, and his contemptible oſten- tation I have frequently concealed ; but I have in ſome places ſhewn him, as he would have ſhewn himſelf, for the reader's diverſion, that the inflated emptineſs of ſome notes may juſtify or excuſe the contraction of the reſt, | 5 Theobald, thus weak and ignorant, thus mean and faithleſs, thus petulant and oſtentatious, by the good luck of having Pope for his enemy, has eſcaped, and eſcaped alone, with reputation, from this undertaking. So willingly does the world ſupport thoſe who ſolicit favour, againſt thoſe who command reverence; and ſo eaſily is he praiſed, whom no man can envy. Vol. I. FC] | Our 1 — — nere 1 — 2 . SC — Ee "oY = — 5 — + — — 2 . * 1 34 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. Our author fell then into the hands of Sir Thomas Hanmer, the Oxford editor, a man, in my opinion, eminently qualified by nature for ſuch ſtudies. He had, what is the firſt requiſite to emendatory criticiſm, that intuition by which the poet's intention 1s immediately diſcovered, and that dexterity of intelle& which diſ- patches its work by the eaſieſt means. He had undoubt- _ edly read much; his acquaintance with cuſtoms, opi- nions, and traditions, ſeems to have been large; and he is often learned without ſhew. He ſeldom paſſes what he does not underſtand, without an attempt to find or to make a meaning, and ſometimes haſtily makes what a little more attention would have found. He is ſolicitous to reduce to grammar, what he could not be ſure that his author intended to be grammatical. Shakſpeare re- eee more the ſeries of ideas, than of words; and his Ia nguage, not being deſigned for the reader's deſk, was all that he deſired it to be, if at conveyed his meaning to the andience. | Hanmer's care of the metre has been too violently cenſured. He found the meaſure reformed in fo many paſſages, by the filent labours of ſome editors, with the filent acquieſcence of the reſt, that he thought himſelf allowed to extend a little further the licence, which had already been carried ſo far without reprehenſion; and of his corrections in general, it muſt be confeſſed, that they are often juſt, and made commonly with the leaſt poſſible violation of the text. 5 | But, by inſerting his emendations, whether invented or borrowed, into the page, without any notice of vary- ing copies, he has appropriated the labour of his prede- ceſſors, and made his own edition of little authority. His confidence indeed, both in himſelf and others, was too great; he ſuppoſes all to be right that was done by Pope and Theobald; he ſeems not to ſuſpect a critick of fallibility, and it was but reaſonable that he ſhould claim what he ſo liberally granted. | - As he never writes without careful enquiry and dili- 2 conſideration, I have received all his notes, and lieve that every reader will wiſh for more. | 4 h Of DR. JOHNSON'S PRE FACE. 35 Of the laſt editor it is more difficult to ſpeak. Reſpect is due to high place, tenderneſs to living reputation, and veneration to genius and learning; but he cannot be juſtly offended at that liberty of which he has himſelf ſo frequently given an example, nor very ſolicitous what is thought of notes, which he ought never to have conſidered as part of his ſerious employments, and which, I ſuppoſe, ſince the ardor of compoſition is remitted, he no longer numbers among his happy effuſions. | The original and predominant error of his commen- tary, is acquieſcence in his firſt thoughts; that precipi- tation which is produced by conſciouſneſs of quick diſ- cernment; and that confidence which preſumes to do, by ſurveying the ſurface, what labour only can perform, by penetrating the bottom. His notes exhibit ſometimes perverſe interpretations, and ſometimes improbable con- jectures; he at one time gives the author more profun- dity of meaning than the ſentence admits, andat another diſcovers abſurdities, where the ſenſe is plain to every other reader. But his emendations are likewiſe often happy and juſt; and his interpretation of obſcure paſſages learned and ſagacious. . | Of his notes, I have commonly rejected thoſe, againſt which the general voice of the publick has exclaimed, or which their own incongruity immediately condemns, and which, I ſuppoſe the author himſelf would deſire to be forgotten. Of the reft, to part I have given the higheſt approbation, by inſerting the offered reading in the text; part I have left to the judgment of the reader, as doubtful, though ſpecious ; and part I have cenſured without reſerve, but I am ſure without bitterneſs of ma- lice, and, I hope, without wantonneſs of inſult. It is no pleaſure to me, in reviſing my volumes, to ob- ſerve how much paper is waſted in confutation. Whoever conſiders the [revolutions of learning, and the various queſtions of greater or leſs importance, upon which wit and reaſon have exerciſed their powers, muſt lament the unſucceſsfulneſs of enquiry, and the flow advances of truth, when he reflects, that great part of the labour of every writer is only the deſtruction of thoſe that went | 1e before 36 DR. JOHNSON*'S PREFACE. before him.. The firſt care of the builder of a new ſyſtem, is to demoliſh the fabricks which are ſtanding. The Chief defire of him that comments an author, 1s to ſhew how much other commentators have 'corrupted and ob- ſcured him. The opinions prevalent in one age, as truths above the reach of controverſy, are confuted and rejected in another, and riſe again to reception in re- moter times. Thus the human mind is kept in motion without progreſs. Thus ſometimes truth and error, and ſometimes contrarieties of error, take each other's place by reciprocal invaſion. The tide of ſeeming knowledge Which is poured over one generation, retires and leaves another naked and barren ; the ſudden meteors of intel- ligence, which for a while appear to ſhoot their beams into the regions of obſcurity, on a ſudden withdraw their luſtre, and leave mortals again to grope their Ways | ; 1 heſe elevations and depreſſions of renown, and the contradictions to which all improvers of knowledge muſt for ever be expoſed, ſince they are not eſcaped by the higheſt and brighteſt of mankind, may ſurely be ee! with patience by criticks and annotators, who can rank. themſelves but as the ſatellites of their authors. -How canſt thou beg for life, ſays Homer's hero to his captive, when thou knoweſt that thou art now to ſuffer only what, muſt ancther day be ſuffered by Achilles ? | Dr. Warburton had a name ſufficient to confer celebrity on thoſe who could exalt themſelves into antagoniſts, and his notes have raiſed a clamour too loud to be diſtinct. His chief aſſailants are the authors of The canons of criti= ciſin, and of The revijal of Shakſpeare's text; of whom one ridicules his errors with airy petulance, ſuitable enough to the levity of the controverſy ; the other attacks them with roy malignity, as if he were dragging to Juſtice an aſſaſſin or incendiary. The one ſtings like a fly, ſucks a little blood, takes a gay flutter, and returns for more; the other bites like a viper, and would be glad to leave inflammations and gangrene behind him. When I think on one, with his confederates, I remem- ber the danger of Coriolanus, who was afraid that Poe | Tit DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 37 / pit, and boys with flones, ſhould flay him in puny battle; when the other croſſes my imagination, I remember the prodigy in Macbeth . A falcon tow*ring in his pride of place, Was by a mouſing owl hawk'd at and kilPd. Let me however do them juſtice. One is a wit, and one a ſcholar *. They have both ſhewn acuteneſs ſuffi- cient in the diſcovery of faults, and have both advanced ſome probable interpretations of obſcure paſſages ; but when they aſpire to conjecture and emendation, it ap- pears how falſely we all eftimate our own abilities, and the little which they have been able to perform might have taught them more candour to the endeavours of others, | | | Before Dr. Warburton's edition, Critical obſervations on Shakſpeare had been publiſhed by Mr. Upton , a man ſkilled in languages, and acquainted with books, but who ſeems to have had no great vigour of genius or nicety of taſte, Many of his explanations are curious and uſeful, but he likewiſe, though he profeſſed to op- | Poſe the licentious confidence of editors, and adhere to the old copies, is unable to reſtrain the rage of emenda- tion, though his ardour is ill ſeconded by his ſkill. Every cold empirick, when his heart is expanded by a ſucceſs- ful experiment, ſwells into a theoriſt, and the labo- rious collator at ſome unlucky moment frolicks in con- % e Critical, hiftorical, and explanatory notes have been likewiſe publiſhed upon Shakſpeare by Dr. Grey, whoſe diligent peruſal of the old Engliſh writers has enabled him to make ſome uſeful obſervations, What he under- I It is extraordinary that this gentleman ſhould attempt ſo volumi- nous a work, as the Rewiſal of Shakſpeare's text, when he tells us in his preface, „he was not ſo fortunate as to be furniſhed with either « of the folio editions, much leſs any of the ancient quartos; and cc even Sir Thomas Hanmer's performance was known to him only by & Dr. Warburton's repreſentation.” FARMER. | | + Republiſhed by him in 1748, after Dr. Warburton's edition, with alterations, &c. STEEVENS. , K took 1 —— — 2 — us Os" AB Fae + 33 DR. JOHNSON*'S PREFACE. took he has well enough performed, but as he neither attempts judicial nor emendatory criticiſm, he employs rather his memory than his ſagacity. It were to be wiſhed that all would endeavour to imitate his modeſty, who have not been able to ſurpaſs his knowledge. I can ſay with great ſincerity of all my predeceſſors, what I hope will hereafter be ſaid of me, that not one has left Shakſpeare without improvement, nor is there one to whom | have not been indebted for aſſiſtance and information. Whatever I have taken from them, it was my intention to refer to its original author, and it is cer- tain, that what I have not given to another, I believed when I wrote it to be my own. In ſome perhaps I have been anticipated ; but if I am ever found to encroach upon the remarks of any other commentator, I am will- ing that the honour, be it more or leſs, ſhould be tranſ- ferred to the firſt claimant, for his right, and his alone, ſtands above diſpute; the ſecond can prove his preten- tenſions only to himſelf, nor can himſelf always diſ- tinguiſh invention, with ſufficient certainty, from re- collection. i . | | They have all been treated by me with candour, which they have not been careful.of obſerving to one another. It is not eaſy to diſcover from what cauſe the acrimony of a ſcholiaſt can naturally proceed. The ſubjects to be diſcuſſed by him are of very ſmall importance; they in- volve neither property nor liberty; nor favour the in- tereſt of ſect or party. The various readings of copies, and different interpretations of a paſſage, ſeem to be . queſtions that might exerciſe the wit, without engaging the paſſions, But whether it be, that /mall things make mean men proud, and vanity catches {ſmall occaſions ; or that all contrariety of opinion, even in thoſe that can defend it no longer, makes proud men angry; there is often found in commentaries a ſpontaneous ſtrain of in- vective and contempt, more eager and venomous: than is vented by the moſt furious controvertiſt in politicks againſt thoſe whom he is hired to defame. | Perhaps the lightneſs of the matter may conduce to the vehemence of the agency; when the truth to be 1 | . | gate 4 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE, 39 gated 1s ſo near to inexiſtence, as to eſcape attention, its bulk is to be enlarged by rage and exclamation : that to which all would be indifferent in its original ſtate, may attract notice when the fate of a name is appended to it. A commentator has indeed great temptations to ſupply by turbulence what he wants of dignity, to beat his little gold to a ſpacious ſurface, to work that to foam which no art or diligence can exalt to ſpirit. | | The notes which I have borrowed or written are either illuſtrative, by which difficulties are explained; or judi- cial, by which faults and beauties are remarked ; or emendatory, by which depravations are corrected. The explanations tranſcribed from others, if I do not ſubjoin any other interpretation, I ſuppoſe commonly to be right, at leaſt I intend by acquieſcence to confeſs, that 1 have nothing better to propoſe. | After the labours of all the editors, I found many paſſages which appeared to me likely to obſtruct the greater number of. readers, and thought it my duty to facilitate their paſſage. It is impoſſible for an expoſitor not to write too little for ſome, and too much for others. He can only judge what is neceſſary by his own experi- ence; and how long ſoever he may deliberate, wall at laſt explain many lines which the learned will think im- poſſible to be miſtaken, and omit many for which the ignorant will want his help. Theſe are cenſures merely relative, and muſt be quietly endured. I have endea- voured to be neither ſuperfluouſly copious, nor ſcrupu- louſly reſerved, and hope that I have made my author's meaning acceſſible to many, who before were frighted from peruſing him, and contributed ſomething to the publick, by diffuſing innocent and rational pleaſure. The complete explanation of an author not ſyſtematick and qi Ege but deſultory and vagrant, abound- ing in caſual alluſions and light hints, is not to be ex- pected from any ſingle ſcholiaſt. All perſonal reflections, when names are ſuppreſſed, muſt be in a few years irre- caverably obliterated ; and cuſtoms, too minute to attract the notice of law, ſuch as modes of dreſs, formalities of converſation, rules of viſits, diſpoſition of furniture, and Ye [ C * Practices 40 DR. JOHNSON*'S PRE FAC E. practices of ceremony, which naturally find places in familiar dialogue, are ſo fugitive and unſubſtantial, that they are not eaſily retained or recovered. What can be known will be collected by chance, from the receſſes of obſcure and obſolete papers, peruſed commonly with ſome other view. Of this knowledge every man has ſome, and none has much; but when an author has en- gaged the publick attention, thoſe who can add any thing to his illuſtration, communicate their diſcoveries, and time produces what had eluded diligence. | To time I have been obliged to reſign many paſſages, which, though I did not underſtand them, will perhaps hereafter be explained, having, I hope, illuſtrated ſome, which others have neglected or miſtaken, ſometimes by ſhort remarks, or marginal directions, ſuch as every edi- tor has added at his will, and often by comments more laborious than the matter will ſeem to deſerve ; but that which 1s moſt difficult 1s not always moſt important, and to an editor nothing is a trifle by which his author is ob- cured. The poetical beauties or defects I have not been very diligent to obſerve. Some plays have more, and ſome fewer judicial obſervations, not in proportion to their difference of merit, but becauſe I gave this part of my deſign to chance and to caprice. The reader, I believe, is ſeldom pleaſed to find his opinion anticipated; it is natural to delight more in what we find or make, than in what we receiye. Judgment, like other faculties, is improved by practice, and its advancement is hindered by ſubmiſſion to dictatorial decifions, as the memory grows torpid by the uſe of a table- book. Some initia- tion is however neceſſary ;* of all ſkill, part is infuſed by precept. and part is obtained by habit; I have therefore ſhewn ſo much as may enable the candidate of criticiſm - to diſcover the reſt. To the end of moſt plays I have added ſhort ſtrictures, containing a general cenſure of faults, or praiſe of ex- oellence; in which I know not how much I have concur- red with the current opinion ; but 1 have not, by any affeftation of fingularity, deviated from it, Nothing is | minutely PDR. JOHNSONꝰS PREFACE. 41 minutely and particularly examined, and therefore it is to be ſuppoſed, that in the plays which are condemned there is much to be praiſed, and in theſe which are praiſed much to be condemned. | The part of criticiſm in which the whole ſucceſſion of editors has laboured with the greateſt diligence, which has occaſioned the moſt arrogant oſtentation, and ex- cited the keeneſt acrimony, is the emendation of cor- rupted paſſages, to which the publick attention having been firſt drawn by the violence of the contention be- tween Pope and Theobald, has been continued by the perſecution, which, with a kind of conſpiracy, has been fince raiſed againſt all the publiſhers of Shak- ſpeare. | - That many paſſages have paſſed in a ſtate of deprava- tion through all the editions is indubitably certain; of theſe the reſtoration 1s only to be attempted by collation of copies, or ſagacity of conjecture. The collator's province is ſafe and eaſy, the conjecturer's perilous and difficult. Yet as the greater part of the plays are extant only in one copy, the peril muſt not be avoided, nor the difficulty refuſed. | | ; Of the readings which this emulation of amendment has hitherto produced, ſome from the labours of every publiſher I have advanced into the text; thoſe are to be conſidered as in my opinion ſufficiently ſupported ; ſome I have rejected without mention, as evidently errone- ous ; ſome I have left in the notes without cenſure or approbation, as reſting in equipoiſe between objection and defence; and' ſome, which ſeemed ſpecious, but not right, I have inſerted with a ſubſequent animad- verſion. | Having claſſed the obſervations of others, I was at laſt to try what I could ſubſtitute for their miſtakes, and how I could ſupply their omiflions. I collated ſuch copies as I could procure, and wiſhed for more, but have not found the collectors of theſe rarities very communicative. Of the editions which chance or kindneſs put into my hands I have given an enumeration, that 1 may not be blamed for neglecting what I had not the power to do. By 42 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. By examining the old copies, I ſoon found that the later publiſhers, with all their boaſts of diligence, ſuf- fered many paſſages to ftand unauthorized, and content- ed themſelves with Rowe's regulation of the text, even where they knew it to be arbitrary, and with a little conſideration might have found it to be wrong. Some of theſe alterations are only the ejection of a word for one that appeared to him more elegant or more intelligible, Theſe corruptions I have often filently rectiſied; for the | hiſtory of our language, and the true force of our words, can only be preſerved, by keeping the text of authors free from adulteration. Others, and thoſe very frequent, ſmoothed the cadence, or regulated the meaſure; on theſe 1 have not exerciſed the ſame rigour; if only a word was tranſpoſed, or a particle inſerted or omitted, I have ſometimes ſuffered the line to ſtand ; for the in- conſtancy of the copies 1s ſuch, as that ſome liberties may be eaſily permitted. But this practice I have not ſuffered to proceed far, having reſtored the primitive diction wherever it could for any reaſon be preferred. The emendations, which compariſon of copies ſup- lied, I have inſerted in the text; ſometimes, where the improvement was ſlight, without notice, and ſometimes with an account of the reaſons of the change. Conjecture, though it be ſometimes unavoidable, I have not wantonly nor licentiouily indulged. It has been my ſettled principle, that the reading of the ancient books is probably true, and therefore is not to be diſturb- ed for the ſake of elegance, perſpicuity, or mere im- proyement of the ſenſe. For though much credit is not due to the fidelity, nor any to the judgment of the firſt publiſhers, yet they who had the copy before their eyes - were more likely to read it right, than we who read it only by imagination. But it is evident that they have often made ſtrange miſtakes by ignorance or negligence, and that therefore ſomething may be properly attempted © by criticiſm, keeping the middle way between preſump- tion and timidity. : Y Such criticiſm I have attempted to practiſe, and where any paſſage appeared inextricably perplexed, have en- a | | | deavoured DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 43 endeavoured to diſcover how it may be recalled to ſenſe, with leaſt violence. But my firſt labour is, always to turn the old text on every ſide, and try if there be any interſtice, through which light can find its way; nor would Huetius himſelf condemn me, as refuſing the trouble of reſearch, for the ambition of alteration, In this modeſt induſtry I have not been unſucceſsful. I have reſcued many lines from the violations of temerity, and ſecured many ſcenes from the inroads of correction. 1 have adopted the Roman ſentiment, that it is more honourable to ſave a citizen, than to kill an enemy, and have been more careful to protect than to attack. I have preſerved the common diſtribution of the plays into acts, though I believe it to be in almoſt all the plays void of authority. Some of thoſe which are divided in the later editions have no diviſion in the firſt folio, and ſome that are divided 1n the folio have aer in the preceding copies. The ſettled mode of the theatre re- quires four intervals in the play, but few, if any, of our author's compoſitions can be properly diſtributed in that manner. An act 1s ſo much of the drama as paſſes with- out intervention of time, or change of place. A pauſe makes a new act. In every real, and therefore in every imitative action, the intervals may be more or fewer, the reſtriction of five acts being accidental and arbitrary. This Shakſpeare knew, and this he practiſed; his plays were written, and at firſt printed in one unbroken con- tinuity, and ought now to be exhibited with ſhort pauſes, interpoſed as often as the ſcene is changed, or any con- fiderable time is required to paſs. This method would at once quell a thouſand abſurdities. "SES 29 In reſtoring the author's works to their integrity, I have conſidered the punctuation as wholly in my power; for what could be their care of colons and commas, who corrupted words and ſentences. Whatever could be done by adjuſting points, is therefore filently performed, in ſome plays, with much diligence, in others with leſs ; it is hard to keep a buſy eye ſteadily fixed upon evane- ſcent atoms, or a diſcurſive mind upon evaneſcent truth, The —_— A es. es ů ——— — —AWrVV — — „ DR. JOHNSON“ S PREFACE. The ſame liberty has been taken with a few particles, or other words of flight effect. I have ſometimes in- ſerted or omitted them without notice. I have done that ſometimes, which the other editors have done al- ways, and which indeed the ſtate of the text may ſuffi- ciently juſtify. | ; The greater part of readers, inſtead of blaming us for paſſing trifles, will wonder that on mere trifles ſo much labour is expended, with ſuch importance of debate, and ſuch ſolemnity of dition. To theſe I anſwer with con- Kdence, that they are judging of an art which they do not underſtand; yet cannot much reproach them with their ignorance, nor promiſe that they would become in 7 0 by learning criticiſm, more uſeful, happier, or wiſer. | | As I practiſed conjecture more, I learned to truſt it Jeſs; and after I had printed a few plays, reſolved to Inſert none of my own readings in the text. Upon this caution I now congratulate myſelf, for every day en- creaſes my doubt of my emendations, | Since I have confined my imagination to the margin, it muſt not be conſidered as very reprehenfible, if I | Have ſuffered it to play ſome freaks in its own do- minion. There is no danger in conjecture, if it be propoſed as conjecture; and while the text remains un- injured, thoſe changes may be ſafely offered, which are not conſidered even by him that offers them as neceſſary or ſafe. g OY - If my readings are of little value, they have not been oſtentatiouſly difplayed or importunately obtruded, I could have written longer notes, for the art of writing notes is not of difficult attainment. The work is per- formed, firſt by railing at the ſtupidity, negligence, ignorance, and aſinine taſteleſſneſs of the former editors, and ſhewing, from all that goes before and all that fol- lows, the inelegance and abſurdity of the old reading; then by propoſing ſomething, which to ſuperficial readers would ſeem ſpecious, but which the editor rejects with indignation; then by producing the true reading, with a long paraphraſe, and concluding with loud acclama- 38 | tions DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE 43 tions on the diſcovery, and a ſober wiſh for the advance- ment and proſperity of genuine criticiſm. All this may be done, and perhaps done ſometimes without impropriety.. But 1 have always ſuſpected that the reading 1s right, which requires many words to prove it wrong ; and the emendation wrong, that can- not without ſo much labour appear to be right. The juſtneſs of a happy reſtoration ſtrikes at once, and the moral precept may be well applied to criticiſm, quod dubitas ne feceris. | To dread the ſhore which he ſees ſpread with wrecks, 1s natural to the ſailor. I had before my eye, ſo many critical adventures ended in miſcarriage, that caution was forced upon me. I encountered in every page wit ſtruggling with its own ſophiſtry, and learning confuſed dy the multiplicity of its views. I was forced to cenſure thoſe whom I admired, and could not but refle&, while I was diſpoſſeſſing their emendations, how ſoon the ſame fate might happen to my own, and how many of the readings which I have corrected may be by ſome other editor defended and eſtabliſhed. Criticks I ſaw, that other's names efface, And fix their own, with labour, in the place; Their own, like others, ſoon their place refign'd, Or diſappear d, and left the firſt behind. POPE. That a conjectural critick ſhould often be miſtaken, cannot be wonderful, either to others or himſelf, if it be conſidered, that in his art there is no ſyſtem, no prin- cipal and axiomatical truth that regulates ſubordinate poſitions. His chance of error 1s renewed at every at- tempt; an oblique view of the paſlage, a ſlight miſ- apprehenſion of a phraſe, a caſual inattention to the parts connected, is ſufficient to make him not only fail, but fail ridiculouſly ; and when he ſucceeds beſt, he pro- duces perhaps but one reading of many probable, and o that ſuggeſts another will always be able to diſpute 1s claims, | | It is an unhappy ſtate, in which danger is hid under Pleaſure, The allurements of emendation are ſcarcely | reſiſtible. a — — = — —— — — — — — —— rr N= . — — — — — — - | . a CHER — p 1 — — x * - 5 — — — — — — ED As 4 46 DR. JOHNSON*'S PRE FACE. reſiſtible. Conjecture has all the joy and all the pride of invention, and he that has once ſtarted a happy change, is too much delighted to conſider what objections may riſe againſt it. | X | Vet conjectural criticiſm has been of great uſe in the learned world; nor is it my intention to depreciate a ſtudy, that has exerciſed ſo many mighty minds, from the revival of learning to our own age, from the biſhop of Aleria to Engliſh Bentley. The criticks on ancient authors have, in the exerciſe of their ſagacity, many aſſiſtances, which the editor of Shakeſpeare is con- demned to want. They are employed upon grammati- cal and ſettled languages, whoſe conſtruction contributes ſo much to perſpicuity, that Homer has fewer paſſages unintelligible than Chaucer. The words have not only a known regimen, but invariable quantities, which di- rect and confine the choice. There are commonly more manuſcripts than one; and they do not often conſpire in the ſame miſtakes. Yet Scaliger could confeſs to Salmaſius how little ſatisfaction his emendations gave him. Illudunt nobis conjecturæ noſtræ, quarum nos pudet, poſteaguam in meliores codices incidimus. And Liphus could complain, that criticks were making faults, by trying to remove them, Ut olim vitiis, ita nunc remediis laboratur. And indeed, where mere conjecture is to be uſed, the emendations of Scaliger and Lipſius, notwith- ſtanding their wonderful ſagacity and erudition, are often vague and diſputable, like mine or Theobald's. Perhaps I may not be more cenſured for doing wrong, than for doing little; for raiſing in the publick expecta- tions, which at laſt I have not anſwered. The expec- tation of ignorance is indefinite, and that of knowledge is often tyrannical. It is hard to ſatisfy thoſe who know not what to demand, or thoſe who demand by deſign what they think impoſlible to be done. I have indeed diſappointed no. opinion more than my own ; yet 1 have endeavoured to perform my taſk with no ſlight ſolicitude. Not a ſingle paſſage in the whole work has appeared to me corrupt, which 1 have not attempted to reſtore : or obſcure, which I have not endeavoured to illuſtrate. - In many I have failed like others; and from many, e 8 5 a f ; ; a DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. 37 all my efforts, I have retreated, and confeſſed the repulſe. I have not paſſed over, with affected ſuperiority, what is equally difficult to the reader and to myſelf, but where I could not inſtrut him, have owned my ignorance. I might eaſily have accumulated a maſs of ſeeming learn- ing upon eaſy ſcenes ; but it ought not to be imputed to negligence, that, where nothing was neceſſary, oC has been done, or that, where others have ſaid enough, have ſaid no more. 5 Notes are often neceſſary, but they are neceſſary evils. Let him, that is yet unacquainted with the powers of Shakſpeare, and who deſires to feel the higkeit pleaſure that the drama can give, read every play, from the firſt ſcene to the laſt, with utter negligence of all his com- mentators. When his fancy is once on the wing, let it not ſtoop at correction or explanation. When his atten- tion is ſtrongly engaged, let it diſdain alike to turn aſide to the name of Theobald and of Pope. Let him read on through brightneſs and obſcurity, through integrity and corruption; let him preſerve his comprehenſion of the dialogue and his intereſt in the fable. And when the Pleaſures of novelty have ceaſed, let him attempt exact - neſs, and read the commentators. Particular paſſages are cleared by notes, but the ge- neral effect of the work is weakened. The mind is refrigerated by interruption; the thoughts are diverted. from the principal ſubject; the reader is weary, he ſuſpects not why; and at laſt throws away the book which he has too diligently ſtudied. Parts are not to be examined till the whole has been ſurveyed; there is a kind of intellectual remoteneſs neceſſary for the comprehenſion of any great work in its full deſign and in its true proportions; a cloſe approach ſhews the ſmaller niceties, but the beauty of the whole is diſcerned no longer. . | It is not very grateful to conſider how little the ſuc- ceſſion of editors has added to this author's power of pleaſing. He was read, admired, ſtudied, and imitated, while he was yet deformed with all the improprieties which ignorance and neglect could accumulate upon him; Vor. I, W while r. —— — — —— ye ————— 8 | . 4,” ERR ASC 13 " * '% ————— ——— —-— — Every work of this kind is by its nature deficient, 48 DR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE. | while the reading was yet not rectified, nor his allufions underſtood ; yet then did Dryden pronounce, *< that 5 Shakeſpeare was the man, who, of all modern and e perhaps ancient poets, had the largeſt and moſt com- «© prehenfive ſoul. All the images of nature were ſtill << preſent to him, and he drew them not laboriouſly, but 75 ſuckily : when he deſcribes any thing, you more than « ſee it, you feel it too. Thoſe, who accuſe him to have «© wanted learning, give him- the greater commenda- © tion: he was naturally learned: he needed not the t ſpectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards, % and found her there. I cannot ſay he is every where * alike; were he ſo, I ſhould do him injury to compare «© him with the greateſt of mankind. He is many times «« flat and inſipid; his comick wit degenerating into c clenches, his ſerious ſwelling into bombaſt. But he is * always great, when ſome great occaſion. is preſented *< to him: no man can ſay, he ever had a fit ſubje for % his wit, and did not then raiſe himſelf as high above the reſt of poets, & DPuantum lenta folent inter viburna cupreſſi.”? It is to be lamented, that ſuch a writer ſhould want a commentary; that his language ſhould become obſolete, or his ſentiments obſcure. But it is vain to carry wiſnes beyond the condition of human things; that which muſt happen to all, has hap d to Shakſpeare, by accident «2 time ; and more than has been ſuffered by _ other writer fince the uſe of types, has been ſuffered by _ through his own negligence of fame, or perhaps by that ſuperiority of mind, which deſpiſed its own performances, when it compared them with its powers, and judged thoſe works unworthy to be preſerved, which the criticks of following ages were to contend for the fame of reftoring and explaining. 7 Among theſe candidates of inferior fame, I am now to ſtand the judgment of the publick; and wiſh that I could confidently produce my commentary as equal to the en- couragement which I have had the honour of receiving. and PDR. JOHNSON'S PREFACE: 49 and I ſhould feel little ſolicitude about the ſentence, were it to be pronounced only by the ſkilful and the learned. 75 5 . Of what has been performed in this reviſal “, an ac- count is given in the following pages by Mr. Steevens, who might have ſpoken both of his own diligence and ſagacity, in terms of greater ſelf-approbation, without deviating from modeſty or truth. JoansoN. * This paragraph relates to the edition publiſhed in 1773, by | George Steevens, Eſq. MATO. — 55 vor. 8 [D] MR. STEEVENS'S TDNERTISEMENT TO THE | | I = a D'e-2”. Tx want of adherence to the old copies, which has been complained of, in the text of every modern republication of Shakſpeare, is fairly deducible from Mr. Rowe's inattention to one of the firſt duties of an editor f. Mr. Rowe did not print from the earlieſt and moſt correct, but from the moſt remote and inaccurate of the four folios. Between the years x623 and 1685 (the dates of the firſt and laſt) the errors in every play, at leaſt, were trebled. Several pages in each of theſe an- Cient editions have been examined, that the aſſertion might come more fully ſupported. It may be added, that as every freſh editor continued to make the text of his predeceſſor the ground-work of his own (never col- lating but where difficulties occurred) ſome deviations from the originals had been handed down, the number of which are leſſened in the impreſſion before us, as it * Firſt printed in 1773. MALONE. N + * IT muſt not (ſays Mr. Rowe in his dedication to the duke of Somerſet) pretend to have reftor'd this work to the exactneſs of the author's original manuſcripts: thoſe are loſt, or, at leaſt, are gone beyond any inquiry I could make; ſo that there was nothing left, but to compare the ſeveral editions, and give the true reading as well as I could from thence, This I have endeavour'd to do pretty carefully, and render'd very many places intelligible, that were not fo before. Ia ſome of the editions, eſpecially the laſt, there were many lines {and in Hamlet one whole ſcene) left out together; theſe are now all ſupply'd. I fear your grace will find'fome faults, but I hope they are moſtly li- teral, and the errors of the preſs.” Would not any one, from this declaration, ſuppoſe that Mr. Rowe (who dees not appear to have con- ſulted a ſingle quarto) had. at leaſt compared the folios with each other? STEEVINS. | | has MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. gr has been conſtantly compared with the -moſt authentic copies, whether collation was abſolutely neceſſary for the recovery of ſenſe, or not. The perſon who under- took this taſk may have failed by inadvertency, as well as thoſe who preceded him; but the reader may be aſ- ſured, that he, who thought it his duty to free an authar from ſuch modern and unneceſſary innovations as had been cenſured in others, has not ventured to introduce any of his own. | It is not pretended that a complete body of various readings is here collected; or that all the diverſities which the copies exhibit, are pointed out; as near two thirds of them are typographical miſtakes, or ſuch a change of inſignificant particles, as would crowd the bottom of the page with an oſtentation of materials, from which at laſt nothing uſeful could be ſelected. The dialogue might indeed ſometimes be lengthened by other inſertions than have hitherto been made, but without advantage either to its ſpirit or beauty; as in the following inſtance : Lear. No. Kent. Ves. Lear. No, I ſay. Kent. I ſay, yea. Here the quartos add : Lear. No, no, they would not. Kent. Yes, they have, By the admiſſion of this negation and affirmation, has any new idea been gained ? : The labours of preceding editors have not left room for a boaſt, that many valuable readings have been retriev- ed; though it may be fairly aſſerted, that the text of Shakſpeare is reſtored to the condition in which the au- thor, or rather his firſt publiſhers, appear to have left it, ſuch emendations as were abſolutely neceſſary, alone ad- mitted: for where a particle, indiſpenſably neceſſary to the ſenſe, was wanting, ſuch a ſupply has been ſilently adopted from other editions; but where a ſyllable, or | FD 3} > ; more, 32 MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT, more, had been added for the ſake of the metre only, which at firſt might have been irregular, ſuch interpola- tions are here conſtantly retrenched, ſometimes with, and _ ſometimes without notice. Thoſe ſpeeches, which in the elder editions are printed as proſe, and from their own conſtruction- are incapable of being compreſſed into verſe, without the aid of ſupplemental ſyllables, are reſtored to proſe again; and the meaſure is divided afreſh in others, where the maſs of words had been inharmoniouſly ſepa- rated into lines. - „ The ſcenery, throughout all the plays, is regulated in conformity to a rule, which the poet, by his general practice ſeems to have propoſed to himſelf. Several of his pieces are come down to us, divided into ſcenes as well as acts. Theſe diviſions were probably his own, as they are made on ſettled principles, which would hardly have been the caſe, had the taſk been executed by the players. A change of ſcene, with Shakſpeare, moſt commonly implies a change of place, but always, an entire evacuation of the ſtage. The cuſtom of diſtin- guiſhing every entrance or exit by a freſh ſcene, was adopted, perhaps very idly, from the French theatre. For the length of many notes, and the accumulation of examples in others, ſome apology may be likewiſe ex- pected. An attempt at brevity is often found to be the ſource of an imperfect explanation. Where a paſſage has been conſtantly miſunderſtood, or where the jeſt or pleaſantry has been ſuffered to remain long in obſcurity, more inſtances have been brought to clear the one, or _ elucidate the other, than appear at firſt ſight to have been neceſſary. For theſe, it can only be ſaid, thar when they prove that phraſeology or ſource of merriment to have been once general, which at preſent ſeems par- ticular, they are not quite impertinently intruded ; as they may ſerve to free the author from a ſuſpicion of having employed an affected ſingularity of expreſſion, or indulged himſelf in alluſions to tranſient cuſtoms, which were not of ſufficient notoriety to deſerve ridicule or re- prehenſion. When examples in favour of contradictory - opinions are aſſembled, though no attempt is _— = | EP ecide MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 53 decide on either part, ſuch neutral collections ſhould al- ways be regarded as materials for future critics, who may hereafter apply them with ſucceſs. Authorities, whether in reſpect of words, or things, are not always produci- ble from the moſt celebrated writers“; yet {ſuch circum- ſtances as fall below the notice of hiſtory, can only be ſought in the jeſt-book, the ſatire, or the play ; and the novel, whoſe faſhion did not outlive a week, is fome- times neceſſary to throw light on thoſe annals which take in the compaſs of an age. Thoſe, therefore, who would wiſh to have the peculiarities of Nym familiarized to their ideas, muſt excule the inſertion of ſuch an epigram * Mr. T. Warton in his excellent Remarks'on the Faery Queen f Spenſer, offers a ſimilar apology for having introduced illuſtrations from obſolete literature. I fear (ſays he) I ſhall be cenſured for quoting too many pieces of this ſort, | But experience has fatally proved, that the commentator on Spenſer, Jonſon, and the reſt of our elder poets, will in vain give ſpecimens of his claſſical erudition, unleſs, at the ſame time, he brings to his work a mind intimately 'acquainted with thoſe books, which, though now forgotten, were yet in common uſe and high repute about the time in which his authors reſpe&iyely wrote, and which they conſequently muſt have read. While theſe are unknown, many alluſions and many imitations will either remain obſcure, or loſe half their beauty and propriety : * as the figures vaniſh when the can- vas is decayed.” ? | iges? F «© Pope laughs at Theobald for giving us, in his edition of SHAKs SPEARE, a ſample of es | i at — all ſuch READING as was never read. | x | But theſe ſtrange and ridiculous books which Theobald quoted, were unluckily the very books which SkAK SPARE himſelf had ſtudied; the knowledge of which enabled that uſeful editor-to explain ſo many difficult allüſions and obſolete cuſtoms in his poet, which otherwiſe could never have been underſtood. For want of this ſort of literature, Pope tells us that the dreadful Sagittary in Troilus and Creſſida, ſigni- fies Teucer, ſo celebrated for his ſkill in archery, Had he deigned to conſult an old hiſtory, called the Dęſtrudi ion of Troy, a book which was the delight of ShHaxs>EARE and of his age, he would have found that this formidable archer, was no other than an imaginary beaſt, which the Grecian army brought againſt Troy, If SHAXSPEARE is worth reading, he is worth explaining ; and the reſeaxches uſed for fo valuable and elegant a purpoſe, merit the thanks of genius and candour, not the ſatire of 'prejudice and ignorance, That labour, which ſo eſſentially contributes to the ſervice of true taſte, deſerves a more ho- aourable repoſitory than The Temple of Dullneſs." STEEVENSs [D 3] 2s 54 MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. as beſt ſuits the purpoſe, however tedious in itſelf; and ſuch as would be acquainted with the propriety of Fal- ſtaff's alluſion to fewed prunes, ſhould not be diſguſted at a multitude of inſtances, which, when the point is once known to be eſtabliſhed, may be diminiſhed by any fu- ture editor. An author, who catches (as Pope expreſſes it) at te Cynthia of a minute, and does not furniſh notes to his own works, is {ure to loſe half the praiſe which he might have claimed, had he dealt in alluſions leſs tem- Rey or cleared up for himſelf thoſe difficulties which apſe of time muſt inevitably create. „ The author of the additional notes has rather been de- ſirous to ſupport old readings, than to claim the merit of introducing: new ones. He deſires to be regarded as one, who found the-taſk he undertook more arduous than it ſeemed, while he was yet feeding his vanity with the hopes of introducing himſelf to the world as an editor in form. He, who has diſcovered in himſelf the power to rectify a few miſtakes with eaſe, is naturally led to ima- ne, thatall difficulties muſt yield to the efforts of future out 's and perhaps feels a reluctance to be undeceived Ot RENE = | Mr. Steevens defires it may be obſerved, that he has ſtrictly complied with the terms exhibited in his propo- fats; having appropriated all ſuch aſſiſtances, as he re- ceived, to the uje of the preſent editor, whoſe judgment has, in every inſtance, determined on their reſpective Merits. While he enumerates his obligations to his cor- reſpondents, it is neceſſary that one comprehenſive re- mark ſhould be made on ſuch communications as are omitted in this edition, though they might have proved of great N Anrngs to a more daring commentator. The majority of theſe were founded on the ſuppoſition, that Shakſpeare was originally an author correct in the utmoſt degree, but maimed and interpolated by the neglect or . of the players. In conſequence of this be- ief, alterations have been propoſed wherever a verſe could be harmonized, an epithet exchanged for one more -appoſite, or a ſentiment rendered leſs perplexed. Had the general current 'of advice been followed, the _ | | wou MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 53 would have been filled with attempts at emendation ap- parently unneceſſary, though ſometimes elegant, and as frequently with explanations of what none would have thought difficult. A conſtant peruſer of Shakſpeare will ſuppoſe whatever is eaſy to his own apprehenſion, will prove ſo to that of others, and conſequently may paſs over ſome real perplexities in filence. On the contrary, if in conſideration of the different abilities of every claſs of readers, he ſhould offer a comment on all harſh in- verſions of phraſe, or peculiarities of expreſſion, he will at once excite the diſguſt and diſpleaſure of ſuch as thin their own knowledge or ſagacity undervalued. It is dif- ficult to fix a medium between doing too little and too much in the taſk of mere explanation. There are yet- many paſſages unexplained and unintelligible, which may be reformed, at hazard of whatever licence, for ex- | Hibitions on the Rage, in which the pleaſure of the audience is chiefly to be conſidered ; but muſt remain untouched by the critical editor, whoſe conjectures are limited by narrow bounds, and who gives only what he at leaft ſuppoſes hiSauthor to have written. | If it is not to be expected that each vitiated paſſage in Shakſpeare can he reſtored, till a greater latitude of ex- periment ſhall be allowed; ſo neither can it be ſuppoſed that the force of all his alluſions will be pointed out, till ſuch books are thoroughly examined, as cannot eaſily at preſent be collected, it at all. Several of the meſt cor- rect liks of our dramatick pieces exhibit the titles of plays, whick are not to be met with in the completeſt collections. It is almoſt unneceſſary to mention any other than Mr. Garrick's, which, curious and exten- five as it is, derives its greateſt value from its ac- ce ſſibility *. xt | 2 0 * There is reaſon to think that about the time of the Reformation, great numbers of plays were printed, though few of that age are now To be found; for part of queen Elizabeth's iNjJuncT10Ns in 1559, are particularly directed to the ſuppreſſing of “ Many pamphlets, LAVES, and ballads: that no manner of perſon ſhall enterprize to Print any ſuch, &c. but under certain reſtrictions.“ Vid. Sect. V. This obiervationis taken from Dr. Percy's Additions to his Efjay.qn [D 4] the _ _ "i * * * I TX * ; þ a us * * N : Ll 3M 1 { 7 z 5 56 MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. To the other evils of our civil war muſt be added the Interruption of polite learning, and the ſuppreſſion of many dramatic and poetical names, which were plunged in obſcurity by tumults and revolutions, and have never ſince attrated curioſity. The utter neglect of ancient Engliſh literature continued ſo long, that many books may be ſuppoſed to be loſt; and that curioſity, which has been now for ſome years increaſing among us, wants materials for its operations. Books and pamphlets, * the Origin of the Engliſh Stage. It appears likewiſe from a page at the concluſion of the ſecond Vol. of the entries belonging to the Sta- - tioner's company, that in the 41ſt year of queen Elizabeth, many new reſtraints on bookſellers were laid. Among theſe are the follow- ing, © That no plaies be printed excepte they bee allowed by ſuch as have auctoritye.“ The records of the Stationers however contain the entries of ſome which have never yet been met with by the moſt ſuc- ' ceſsful collectors; nor are their titles to be found in any regiſters of the ſtage, whether ancient or modern. It ſhould ſeem from the ſame yolumes that it was cuſtomary for the Stationers to ſeize the whole impreſſion of any work that had given offence, and burn it publickly at their hall, in obedience to the edits of the archbiſhop of Canterbu- ry, and the biſhop of London, who ſometimes enjoyed theſe literary executions at their reſpeCtive palaces. Among other works condemned to the flames by theſe diſcerning prelates, were the complete ſatires of biſhop Hall. i | 24 Mr. 3 at the concluſion of the preface to his firſt edition of Shakſpeare, aſſerts, that excluſive of the dramas of Ben Jonſon, and B. and Fletcher, he had read © above 800 of old Engliſh plays.” He omitted this aſſertion, however, on the republication of the ſame work, and, I hope, he did fo, through a conſciouſneſs of its utter falſhood ; for if we except the plays of the authors already mentioned, it would be difficult to diſcover half the number that were written early enough to ſerve the purpoſe for which he pretends to have peruſed this imaginary ſtock of ancient literature. ö e I might add, that the private gollection of Mr. Theobald, which, including the plays of Jonſon, Fletcher and Shakipeare, did not amount to many more than an hundred, remained entire in the hands of the late Mr. 'Tonſon, till the time of his death. It does not appear that any other collection but the Harleian was at that time formed; nor does Mr. Theobald's edition contain any intrinfic evidences of ſo comprehenſive an examination of our eldeſt dramatic writers, as he aſſumes to himſelf the merit of having made. STEEVENS. There were about five hundred and fifty plays printed before the Reſtoration, excluſive of thoſe written by Shakſpeare, Jonſon, and Fletcher, MaALoNg., N R | : 'E printed MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 57 printed originally in ſmall numbers, being thus neglect- ed, were ſoon deſtroyed ; and though the capital authors were preſerved, they were preſerved to languiſh without regard, How little Shakſpeare himſelf was once read, may be underſtood from Tate“, who, in his dedication to the altered play of King Lear, ſpeaks of the original as of an obſcure piece, recommended to his notice by a friend; and the author of the Tazler, having occaſion to quote a few lines out of Macbeth, was content to receive them from D*Avenant's alteration of that celebrated drama, in which almoſt every original beauty 1s either aukwardly diſguiſed, or arbitrarily omitted. So little were the defects or peculiarities of the old writers known, even at the beginning of our century, that though the cuſtom of alliteration had prevailed to that degree in the time of Shakſpeare, that it became contemptible and ridiculous, yet it is made one of Waller's praiſes by a writer of his life, that he firſt introduced this practice into Engliſh verſification. | hs It will be expected that ſome notice ſhould be taken of the laſt editor of Shakſpeare, and that his merits ſhould be eſtimated with thoſe of his predeceſſors. Little, however, can be ſaid of a work, to the completion of which, both a large proportion of the commentary and various readings 1s as yet wanting, The Second Part of King Henry VI. is the only play from that edition, which has been conſulted in the courſe of this work; for as ſeveral paſſages there are arbitrarily omitted, and as no notice 1s given when other deviations are made from the old copies, it was of little conſequence' to examine any further. This circumſtance is mentioned, leſt ſuch ac- cidental coincidences of opinion, 2s may be diſcovered hereafter, ſhould be interpreted into plagiariſm. It may occaſionally happen, that ſome of the remarks long ago produced by others, are offered again as recent diſcoveries. It is likewiſe abſolutely impoſſible to pro- nounce with any degree of certainty, whence all the * In the year 1707 Mr. N. Tate publiſhed a tragedy called Injured - Tove, or the Cruel Huſband, and in the title-page of it calls himſelf, $6 Autber of the tragedy called King Lear.“ STEEVENS. | | hints hints, which furniſh matter for a commentary, have been collected, as they lay ſcattered in many books and papers, which were probably never read but once, or the particulars which they contain received only in the courſe of common conyerſation ; nay, what is called pla- lariſm, is often no more than the reſult of having Wongbe alike with others on the ſame ſubject. The diſpute about the learning of Shakſpeare bein now finally ſettled, a catalogue is added of thoſe rae gared authors, whom Mr. Pope has thought proper to r ; | F4 The claffics ef an age that heard of none. The reader may not be diſpleaſed to have the Greek and Roman poets, orators, &c. who had been rendered ac- ceſſible to our author, expoſed at one view; eſpecially as the liſt has received the advantage of being corrected and amplifed by the Reverend Dr. Farmer, the ſub- ſtance of whoſe very deciſive pamphlet is interſperſed through the notes which are added in this reviſal of Dr. Johnſon's Shakſpeare. _ Wy | To thoſe who have advanced the reputation of our Poet, it has been endeavoured, by Dr. Jahnſon, in the foregoing preface, impartially to allot their dividend of fame; and it is with great regret that we now add to the catalogue, another, the conſequence of whoſe death will perhaps affect not only the works of Shakſpeare, but of many other writers. Soon after the firſt appearance of this edition, adiſeaſe, rapid in its progreſs, deprived the world of Mr. Jacos Toxson ; a man, whoſe zeal. for the improvement of Engliſh literature, and whoſe liberality to men of learning, gave him a juſt title to all the honours which men of learning can beſtow. To ſup- oſe that a perſon employed in an extenſive trade, lived In a ſtate of indifference to loſs and gain, would be to conceive a character incredible and romantic; but it may be juſtly ſaid of Mr. Toxson, that he had enlarged his mind beyond ſolicitude about petty loſſes, and refined it from the deſire of unreaſonable profit. He was willing to admit thoſe with whom he contracted, to the juſt | | | advantage MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 59 advantage of their own labours; and had never learned to conſider the author as an under- agent to the book- ſeller. The wealth which he inherited or acquired, he enjoyed like a man conſcious of the dignity of a profeſſion ſubſervient to learning. His domeſtic life was elegant, and his charity was liberal. His manners were ſoft, and his converſation delicate: nor is, perhaps, any quality in him more to be cenſured, than that reſerve which con- fined his acquaintance to a ſmall number, and made his example leſs uſeful, as it was leſs extenſive. He was the laſt commercial name of a family which will be long remembered; and if Horace thought it not improper to convey the Sos 11 to poſterity ; if rhetoric ſuffered no diſ- honour from Quintilian's dedication to TRY HO; let it not be thought that we diſgrace Shakſpeare, by append- ing to his works the name of Tonson. To this prefatory advertiſement | have now ſubjoined * a chapter extracted from the Gu/s Hornbook, (a ſatirical pamphlet writen by Decker in the year 1609) as it affords the reader a more complete idea of the cuſtoms peculiar to our ancient theatres, than any other publi- cation which has hitherto fallen in my way. See this performance, page 27. e Hou a Gallant fhould behave himſelf in a Play-houſe. The theatre is your poet's Royal Exchange, upon which, their muſes (that are now turn'd to merchants) meeting, barter away that hght commodity of words for a lighter ware than words, plaudities and the breath of the great Seat, which (like the threatnings of two cowards) vaniſh all into aire. Plazers and their fackors, who put away the ſtuffe and make the beſt of it they poſſibly can (as indeed 'tis their parts ſo to doe) your gallant, your courtier, and your capten, had wont to be the ſoundeſt pay-maſters, and I thinke are ſtill the ſureſt chapmen: and theſe by meanes that their heades are ® This addition to Mr, Steevens's Advertiſement was made in 1778. i MALONE. well 60 MR: STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. well ſtockt, deale upon this comical freight by the groſle ; when your groundling, and gallery commoner buyes his ſport by the penny, and, like a hagler, is glad to utter it aine by retailing. LE | | Sithence then the place is ſo free in entertainment, al- Jowing a ſtoole as well to the farmer's ſonne as to your Templer: that your ſtinkard has the ſelf ſame libertie to be there in his tobacco-fumes, which your ſweet courtier Hath: and that your carman and tinker claime as ſtrong a voice in their. ſuffrage, and ſit to give judgment on the Plates? life and death, as well as the proudeſt Momus among the tribe of criic& ; it is fit that hee, whom the moſt tailors? bils do make room for, when he comes, ſhould not be baſely (like a vyoll) cas'd up in a corner. Whether therefore the gatherers of the publique or private play-hopſe ſtand to receive the afternoone's rent, Jet our gallant (having paid it) preſently advance him- ſelfe up to the throne of the ſtage. I meane not in the lords* roome (which is now but the ftage's ſuburbs.) No, thoſe boxes by the iniquity of cuſtome, conſpiracy of waiting-women and gentlemen-uſhers, that there ſweat together, and the covetous ſharers, are contempti- bly thruſt into the reare, and much new ſatten is there dambd by being ſmothered to death in darkneſſe. But on the very ruſhes where the comedy 1s to daunce, yea and under the ſtate of Cambiſes himſelfe muſt our fea- ther'd eſtridge, like a piece of ordnance ' be planted vali- antly (becauſe impudently) beating downe the mewes and hiſſes of the oppoſed raſcality. bp | For do but caſt up a reckoning, what large cummings in are purs'd up by ſitting on the ſtage. Firſt a conſpicu- ous eminence is gotten, by which meanes the beſt and molt effenciall parts of a gallant {good cloathes, a pro- portionable legge, white hand, the Perſian locke, and a tollerable beard,) are perfectly revealed. | By ſitting on the ſtage you have a ſign'd pattent to engroſſe the whole commodity of cenſure ; may lawfully preſume to be a girder; and ſtand at the helme to ſteere the paſſage of ſcænes, yet no man ſhall once offer to hider you from obtaining the title of an inſolent over- weening coxcombe. | | 1 By MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 617 By ſitting on the ſtage, you may (without trauelling for it) at the very next doore, aſke whoſe play it is: and by that queſt of inquiry, the law warrants you to avoid much miſtaking: if you know not the author, you may raile againſt him; and peradventure ſo behave yourſelfe, that you may enforce the author to know you. By ſitting on the ſtage, if you be a knight, you may happily get you a miſtreſſe: if a mere Fleet-freer gentle- man, a wife: but aſſure yourſelfe by continuall reſidence, you are the firſt and principall man in election to begin the number of We three. ; . | By ſpreading your body on the ſtage, and by being a Juſtice in examining of plaies, you ſhall put yourſelfe into ſuch a true ſcznical authority, that ſome poet ſhall not dare to preſent his muſe rudely before your eyes, with- out having firſt unmaſkt her, rifled her, and diſcovered alli her bare and moſt myſtical parts before you at a taverne, when you moſt knightly, ſhal for his paines, pay for both their ſuppers. By ſitting on the ſtage, you may (with ſmall coſt) pur- chaſe the deere acquaintance of the boyes: have a good ſtoole for ſixpence: at any time know what particular part any of the infants preſent: get your match lighted, examine the play-ſuits' lace, and perhaps win wagers upon laying tis copper, &c. And to conclude, whether you be a foole or a juſtice of peace, a cuckold or a cap- ten, a lord maior's ſonne or a dawcocke, a knave or an under ſhriefe, of what ſtamp ſoever you be, currant or counterfet, the ſtagelike time will bring you to moſt per- fect light, and lay you open: neither are you to be | hunted from thence though the ſcar-crowes in the yard hoot you, hiſſe at you, ſpit at you, yea throw dirt even in your teeth: *tis moſt gentleman-Jike patience to en- dure all this, and to laugh at the filly animals. But if the rabble, with a full throat, crie away with the foole, you were worſe than a mad-man to tarry by it : for the gentleman and the foole ſhould never fit on the ſtage together. Mary, let this obſervation go hand in hand with the reſt; or rather, like a country- ſerving man, ſome five yards before them. Preſent not your ſelfe on the ſtage | - (eſpecially — 2 — - —_ —— —— " Þ wv 844 838 — — 82 1 > = — — - — — — U—A—ͥZͥö— —— — — ͤ — — — — — —à—0 62 MR. STEEVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. (eſpecially at a new play) untill the quaking prologue hath (by rubbing) got cullor into his cheekes, and is ready to give the trumpets their cue that hees upon point ro enter: for then it is time, as though you were one of the properties, or that you dropt of the hangings to creep from behind the arras, with your tripos or three-legged ſtoole in one hand, and a teſton mounted betweene a fore-finger and a thumbe, in the other: for if you ſhould. beftow your perſon upon the vulgar, when the belly o. the houſe is but halfe full, your apparell is quite eaten up, the faſhion loſt, and the proportion of your body in more danger to be devoured, then if it were ſerved up in the Counter amongſt the Poultry : avoid that as you would the baſtome. It ſhall crowne you with rich com- mendation to laugh alowd in the middeſt of the moſt ſeri- ous and ſaddeſt ſcene of the terribleft tragedy : and to let that clapper (your tongue) be toſt fo high that all the houſe may ring of it: your lords uſe it; your knights are apes to the lords, and do ſo too: your inne-a-court-man is zany to the knights, and (many very ſcurvily) comes likewiſe limping after it : bee thou a beagle to them all, and never lin ſnufling till you have ſented them: for by talking and laughing (like a ploughman in a morris) you heape Pelion upon Ofa, glory upon glory: as firſt all the eyes in the galleries will leave walking after the players, and onely follow you: the ſimpleſt dolt in the houſe ſnatches up your name, and when he meetes you in the ſtreetes, or that you fall into his hands in the middle of a watch, his word ſhall be taken for you: heele cry, Hees ſuch à gallant, and you paſſe, Secondly you pub- liſn your temperance to the world, in that you ſeeme not to reſort thither to taſte vaine pleaſures with a hungrie appetite; but onely as a gentleman, to ſpend a fooliſh houre or two, becauſe you can doe nothing elſe. Thirdly you mightily diſreliſh the audience, and diſgrace the author: marry, you take up (though it be at the worſt hand) a "ſtrong opinion of your owne judgement, and inforce the poet to take pity of your weakeneſſe, and by ſome dedicated ſonnet to bring you into a better para- dice, onely to ſtop your mouth. | 1 MR. STREVENS'S ADVERTISEMENT. 63 If you can (either for love or money) provide your ſelfe 2 lodging by the water fide: for above the conveniencie it brings to ſhun ſhoulder-clapping, and to ſhip away your cockatrice betimes in the morning, it addes a kind of ſtate unto you, to be carried from thence to the ſtaires of your play-houſe : hate a ſeuller (remember that) worſe then to be acquainted with one ath' ſcullery. No, your oares are your onely ſea-crabs, boord them, and take heed you never go twice together with one paire: often ſhifting is a great credit to gentlemen': and that divid- ing of your fare wil make the poore waterſnaks be ready to pul you in peeces to enjoy your cuſtome. No matter whether upon landing you have money or no; you may ſwim in twentie of their boates over the river upon zzicket - mary, when ſilver comes in, remember to pay trebble their fare, and it will make your flounder-catchers to ſend more thankes after you, when you doe not draw, then when you doe: for they know, it will be their owne another daie. * Before the play begins, fall to cardes; you may win or looſe (as fencers doe in a prize) and beate one an- other by confederacie, yet ſhare the money when you meete at ſupper: notwithſtanding, to gul the ragga- muffins that ſtand a loofe gaping at you, throw the cards (having firſt turne four or five of them) round about the Rage, juſt upon the third ſound, as though you had loft : it fcils not if the four knaves ly on their backs, and out- face the audience, there's none ſuch fooles as dare take exceptions at them, becauſe ere the play go off, better knaves than they, will fall into the company. Now, Sir, if the writer be a fellow that hath either epigram'd you, or hath had a flirt at your miſtris, or hath brought either your feather, or your red beard, of your little legs, &c. on the ſtage, you ſhall diſgrace him worſe then by toſſing him in a blanket, or giving him the baſtinado in a taverne, if in the middle of his play, (bee it paſtorall or comedy, morall or tragedie) you riſe with a ſkreud and diſcontented face from your ſtoole to de gone: no matter whether the ſcenes be good or no; the better they are, the worſe doe you diſtaſt them: and beeing on your feete, ſneake not away like a coward, 4 | but 64 MR. STEEVENS's ADVERTISEMENT. but ſalute all your gentle acquaintance that are ſpred either on the ruſhes or on ſtooles about you, and draw what troope you can from the ſtage after you: the mimicks are beholden to you, for allowing them elbow roome 2: their poet cries perhaps, a pox go with you, but care not you for that; there's no muſick without frets. : Mary, if either the company, or indiſpoſition of the weather binde you to ſit it out, my counſell is then that you turne plaine ape: take up a ruſh and tickle the ear- ' neſt eares of your fellow gallants,. to make other fooles fall a laughing: mewe at the paſſionate ſpeeches, blare at merrie, finde fault with the muſicke, whewe at the. children's action, whiſtle at the ſongs; and above all, curſe the ſharers, that whereas the ſame day you had beſtowed forty ſhillings on an embroidered felt and fea- ther (Scotch-faſhion) for your miſtres in the court, or your punck in the eittie, within two houres after, you encounter with the very ſame block on the ſtage, when the haberdaſher ſwore to you the impreſſion was extant but that morning. | EF, To conclude, hoord up the fineſt play-ſcraps you can get, upon which your leane wit may moſt ſavourly eede, tor want of other ſtuffe, when the Arcadian and £uphuisd gentlewomen have their tongues ſharpened to | ſet upon you: that qualitie (next to your ſhittlecocke) is the only furniture to a courtier that's but a new beginner, and 1s but in his ABC of complement. The next places that are fil'd after the play-houſes bee emptied, are (or ought to be) tavernes: into a taverne then let us next march, where the braines of one hogſhead mult be beaten out to make up another,”? I ſhould have attempted on the preſent occaſion to enumerate all other pamphlets, &c. from whence par- ticulars relative to the conduct of our early theatres might be collected, but that Dr. Percy, in his firſt volume of the Religues of Ancient Engliſh Poetry, (third edit. p. 128, &c.) has extracted ſuch paſſages from them as tend to the illuftration of this ſubject; to which he has added more accurate remarks than my experience in theſe matters would have enabled me to ſupply. STEEvens. 5 ANCIENT ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS „ CLASSICK AUT HORS-. HOMER. EN Bookes of the Iliades into Engliſh out of French, by Arthur Hall, Eſquire. Lond. im- printed by Ralph Newberie, 4tof, — 1581 The Shield of Achilles from the 18th Book of Homer, by Geo. Chapman, 4to. Lond. — 1596 | 1 Books of the Iliades, by ditto, 4to f. Lond. 1596 15 — — — — 1598 & Homer Prince of Poets: Tranſlated according is ths SGreeke in Twelve Bookes of his Iliads: By Geo, Chapman; ſmall folio. Lond, printed for Samuel Macham. No date. [This, I believe, was publiſhed in 1609. There are ſeveral Sonnets at the end, addreſſed to different noblemen ; among them one, to the Lord Trea- /urer, the Earle of Saliſbury.“ See alſo the entry below. ] | | The whole Forks of Homer, by do. printed for Nath. Butler; #0 date, but probably printed in 1611 The Crowne of all Homer's Works, Batrachomymachia, &c. [By Geo. Chapman, with his portrait in tha This Liſt was drawn up by Mr. Steevens. I have made a few inconſiderable additions to it, which are diſtinguiſhed by this mark . — | MALON E. In the firſt vcl. of the books of entries belonging to the Stationers“ company is the following: « Henry Bynneman-] Nov. 1580, lycenſed unto him under the wardens” hands ten bookes of the Iliades of Homer. Again, Samuel Macham. ] Nov. 14, 1608. Seven bookes of Homer's Hiades tranſ- lated into Engliſh by Geo. Chapman. [By aſſignment from Mr. Windett. ] Again, Nathaniel Buiter} April 8, 16:1, % A booke called Homer's Niades in Engliſhe, containing 24 Bookes. Again, Nov. 2, 1614, © Homer's Odiſſes 24 books, tranſlated by George Chapman. 1 Meres, in his Second Part of Wits Commoncuca. th, lays, that Chap- man is ©« of good note for his inchoate Homer Vor. I. LE title. 6 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. title-page.] thin folio; printed by John Bill. | | no date. The ſtrange wonderfull and bloudy Battel between Frogs and Miſe; paraphraſtically done into Engliſh He- roycall Verſe, by W. F. (i. e. William Fowldes,) 4to. — wow — 1603 HE SI O D. | | The Georgicks of Heſiod, by George Chapman, tranſ- lated elaborately out of the Greek. Printed by H. L. for Miles Partrich, 4to. — 1618 Marloe's Hero and Leander, with the firſt Book of Lucan, 4to, — — — 1600 There muſt have been a former Editign , as a ſecond Part was publiſhed by Henry Petower, — 1598 Muſæus's Poem of Hero and Leander, imitated by Chriſtopher Marlow, and finiſhed by Geo. Chap- man, 8 vo. Lond. — — 1606 EU RI PID ES. | Jocaſta, æ Tragedy, from the Pheenifla of Euripides, by * In the firſt volume of the Entries of the Stationers* Company is the following : DE”; : « T. Purfoote.] The Battel of the Frogges and Myce, and certain erations of Iſocrates. Jane 4, 1579. | + This tranſlation, or at leaſt Marlow's part in it, muft have been bliſhed before 1599, being twice mentioned in Naſh's Lenten Stuff, &c. which bears that date. © Leander and Hero, of whom divine Maſeus fung, and a diviner mule than him, Kit Marlow.” Again, s She ſprung after him, and ſo refigned up her prieſthood, and left worke for Muſaus and Kit Marlow,” | | Among the entries at Stationers hall I find the following made by John Wolfe in 1593, Sept. 8th, “ A booke entitled Hero and Lean- der, being an amorous poem deviſed by Chriſtopher Marlow,” K At the ſame time, ©+ Lucan's ſirſt booke of the famous Cyvill Warr betwixt Pompey and Cæſar. Engliſhed by Chriſtopher Marlow.“ Again, in 1597, © A booke in Engliſh called Hero and Leander.“ Again, April 1598, The ſeconde Parte of Hero and Leander by Henry Petowe.” Andrew Harris enter'd it. | Again, in 1600, „ Hero and Leander by Marlowe.“ ET In 1614 an entire tranſlation of Lucan was publiſhed by Sir Arthur Gorges, and enter'd as fuch an the ſame books, * Geo. | ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. 65 Geo. Gaſcoigne, and Mr. Francis Kinwelmerſhe, 4t0, Lond. — — — I 5 56 % „ Axiochus, a Dialogue, attributed to Plato, by Edm. Spenſer, 4to*, — — 1592 DEMO STHENEs. The Three Orations of Demoſthenes, chiefe Orator among the Grecians, in Favour of the Olynthians, with thoſe his fower againſt Philip of Macedon, &c. by Tho. Wylſon, Doctor of the Civill Lawes, 4to. 1570 IS GSR In s ſage Admonition to Demonicus, by R. Nutt- hall, 8 vo. Lond. 1557, I2mo. and 1585 Iſocrates's Doctrinal of Princes, wy Syr Tho. Elliot, Lond. 8vo, — 1534 Iſocrates's Orat. intitled Evagoras, by Jer, Wolfe, 8vo. 1581 Three Orations of moral Inſtructions, one to 8 and. two to Nicocles, King of Salamis, tranſlated from Iſocrates, by Tho. Forreſt, 4x0. 1580 | LUCIAN. | Necromantia, a Dialog of the Poete Lucyen between , Menippus and Philonides, for his Fanteſye faynd for 5 mery Paſtyme, in Engliſh Verſe and Latin — Toxaris, or the Friendſhip of en, by A. O. Lond. 8 vo. — — 1505 | HERODOTUS. The fa Hyſtory of Herodotus t, in nine Bookes, &c. by B. R. Lond. — — 1584 N. B 715 Piece contains only the 0 firſt Books, vix. * This "ERR was entered in May 1592, at Stationers' ball. + Among the entries in the books at Stationers'-hall this appears to be one. « John Denham. ] The famous Eiſtorye of Herodotus i in Englyſhe, 1E | the Jin: 13, _ 68 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. the Clio and Euterpe, The Tranſlator ſays in his | Preface, *©* As theſe ſpeede, ſo the reſt will follow.” 470. ; h N . THUCYDIDES. The Hyſtory writtone by Thucydides, &c. tranſlated out of the Frenche of Claude de Seyſſel, Biſhop of Mar- ſeilles, into the Enghſhe language, by Tho. Nicolls, Citizeine and Goldſmyth of London, fol. 15;0* | POL YBAU 8. Hyſtories of the moſt famous and worthy Cronographer, Polybius, by Chriſtopher Watſon, 8vo. 13568 This Work confifts extracts only. L.. DIODORUS SICULUS1.- The Hiſtory of the Succeſſors of Alexander, &c. out of Diodorous Siculus and Plutarch, by Fho. Stocker. Lond. 4to. — — — 13569 | APPIAN. An aunciente Hiſtorie, &c. by Appian t of Alexandria, tranſlated out of diverſe Languages, &c. by W. B. 4to. Lond. — — | 1578 | JOSEY H US. Joſephus's Hiſtory, &c: tranſlated into Engliſh, by Tho, Lodge; fol: Lond. I1602=1t09, &c. ZE A aUHIAN... ; Zlian's Regiſtre of Hyſtories, by Abraham Fleming, On the Stationers' books in 1607 either this or ſome other tranſ- lation is entered, called © The Hiſtory of Thucidides the Athenian tranſlated into Engliſh.” + Caxton tells us, that © Skelton had tranſlated Diodorus Siculus, the Epiſtles of Tulle, and diverſe other Workes: but I know not that they were ever printed, t In the firſt volume of the entries in the books of the Stationers' company, Feb. 5, 1577, is the following: 5 % Henry Binneman. ] Appianus Alexandrinus of the Romaine Civill Warres.“ HERODIAN. ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. 69 EE HERODIAN. 'The Hiftorie of Herodian, &c. tranſl. oute of Greeke | into Latin, by Angelus Politianus, and out of Latin into Englyſhe, by Nich. Smyth. Imprinted at London, by William Copland, 4to“. PLUTARCHKH Plutarch's Lives, by Sir Tho. North, from the Fr. of Amyot, Biſhop of Auxerre, fol. 1579, 1602, 1603 Plutarch's Morals, by Dr. Philemon Holland 1603t Plutarch of the Education of Children, by Sir Tho. Elyott, 4to. The Preceptes of that excellent Clerke and grave Phi- loſopher, Plutarche, for the Preſervation of Healthe, 8vo. — — _ 1543 ARISTOTLE. The Ethiques of Ariſtotle, &c. by John Wylkinſon. . Printed by Grafton, Printer to K. Edw. VI. 8vo. B. L. 88 vo 885 15478 The Secrete of Secretes of Ariſtotle, &c. tranſlated out of the Frenche, &c. Lond. wo. — 1528 Ariſtotle*s Politiques, &c ||. * the Fr. by J. D. fol. Lond, — — 1598 * OR. 1 59 r, 8 in Engliſh was entered at Stationers'- hall dy —— Adams. + Thus entered in the books of the Stationers' company. % April 1579 —Vatrouller— Wright, a booke in Engliſhe called Plutarch's Lyves.“ ' } On the Stationers? books in the your 1600 is the following entry. cc A booke to be tranſlated out of Frenche into Engliſhe, and ſo printed, called the Morall Woorkes of Plutarque.” Again in 1602. Again in the ſame year, « The moral worke of Plutarque, being tranſlated out of French into Engliſh.” 9 Of the Erbicks of Ariſtotle ſome more early tranſlation muſt have appeared; as Sir Tho. Elyot in his Boke named the Gowernour, 1537s | ſays, © they are to be learned in Greke ; for the tranſlations that we ba ve, be but a rude and groſſe ſhadowe of the eloquence and wyſdome of Ariſtotle.” This tranſlation 1s entered in the books at Stationers*-hall. « Adam Iſlip] Ariſtotle's Politiques with expoſitions; to be tranſlated | into Englike by the F rench copie, 1 598. FE 3] XENOPHON. n T0 70 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS XENOPHON. The eight Bookes of Xenophon, containing the Inſtitu- tion, Schole, and Education of Cyrus, the noble - King of Perſye, &c. tranſl. out of Gr. into Engl. by Mr. William Bercher. Lond. 12mo. 1567 and 1569 * De. by Dr. Philemon Hollanc. Xenophon's Treatiſe of Houſe-hold right, connyngly tranſl. out of the Greke tongue, &c. by Gentian Hervet, &c. 8vo. Lond. 1532. B8V0. 1534. : * 85 1544. 8vo. 1573 The Arte of Riding from Xenophon, &c. Lond. 4to. 1584 F The Manuell of Epictetus, tranſl. out of Greeke into French, and now into Engliſh, &c. Alſo the Apo- thegmes, &c. by James Sandford. Lond. 12 mo. 1567 EUNAPIUS SAR DIANU Sf. The Lyves of Philoſophers and Orators, from the Greek of Eunapius, 4to. K 1579 ACHILLES TATIUS. The moſt delectable and pleaſant Hiſt. of Clitophon and Leucippe, from the Greek of Achilles Statius, &c. by W. B. 4to. — 1 1597 | M. ANTONINUS&g. The Golden Boke of Marcus Aurelius, Emperour and eloquent Orator, 12mo. Lond. — 1553 | 8 | Tranſlated * In the books of the Stationers* company, Feb. 12, 1581, Tho. Eafte entered Enchiridon in Engliſh. = f + Thus entered in the books of the Stationers* company. Richard ones.] The Lives of divers excellent Orators and Philoſophers written in Greeke by Enapius of the city of Sardis in Lydia, and tranſlated. into Engliſhe by L This book was entered in the ſame year by Thomas Creede, on the books of the Stationers? company. 3555 This book is only introduced, that an opportunity may be obtain- ed of excluding it from any future catalogue of tranſlated claſſics. It was a fraud of Guevara's, but not undetected; for Chapman, in his Gentleman Uſher, 1602, ſpeaks of the book as Guevara's own, = If is N : . ; There - ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. *71 Tranſlated out of Fr. into Eng. by Sir John Bourchier, | Kt. &c. &c. Other editions of this are in 1534, 1535, 1530, 1537) 1559- 1586, 1588. DIONYSIUS. Dionyſius's Deſcription of the Worlde. Englyſhed by Tho. Twine, 8 vo. Lond. — 1572 EBUCL I D. Euclid's Elements of Geometry, tranſl. into 0 by Rich. Candiſh, who flouriſhed, A. D. 1556 Euclid's Elements, Pref. by John Dee. Lond. 1570 HLPPOCKATHE SS, The Aphoriſmes of Hippocrates, redacted into a certaine Qecers and tranſlated by Humfrie Llhyd, 8vo. 1585 GALEN. Galen's Two Books of Elements, tranſlated into "MI by J. Jones, 4to. Lond. — 1574 Certaine Workes of Galen, englyſhed by Tho. Gale, 4to. 1586 HE LIODOR US. The Beginning of Zthiopical Hiſtory in Engl. Hexame- | ters, by Abrah. Fraunce, 8vo. Lond. 1591* Heliodorus s Athiopic Hiſt, tranfl. by Tho. Underdown, B. L. 4to. Lond. — 1577 and 1587 VI The Boke of Eneydos, &c. by Carton, fol. Lond. pro/e 1490 The thirteen Bukes of Eneados in Scottiſh Metir, by Gawain Douglas, 4to. Lond. — 1553 there be not more choice words in that letter, than in any three of Guevara's Golden Epiſtles, I am a very aſs.” See his article in Bayle. Our countryman Elyott did ſomewhat of the ſame kind. He pretended to tranſlate the Actes and Sentences notable, of the Emperor A ner Scverus (from the Greek of Encolpius). See Fabricius“ and Tanner' 3 Bibliothec. &c. * A tranſlation of the ſame book is likewiſe entered at Statroners® Kall 1602, and again twice in 1604, for different printers, [1 E 4] Certain — . —— — Te —L——ẽ— = 4 — ” 92 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. Certain Bookes of Virgiles Aneis* turned into Engliffe Metir, by the right honourable Lorde, and Earle of Surrey, 4to. Lond. — 1557 The firſt ſeven Bookes of the Eneidos, ** | "= Lond. 4to. B. L. — 1558 This Tranſlation is in rhyme of fourteen in The nine firſt Bookes, &c. by Phaer, 4to. Lond. 1562 'The thirteene Bookes of Encidos, by Phaer and Twyne. 4to. Lond. — 1584, 1596, 1607, &ct. The firſt foure Bookes of Virgil's Aineis, tranſlated into Engl. heroic Verſe, 71 Richard e Ne. 12mo, Lond. 1583 The Bucolickes of Publius Virgilius Maro, &c. by Abra- ham Fleming, drawn into plaine and familiar Eng- lyſhe, Verſe for Verſe, 4to. B. L. — 157 5 Virgil's Eclogues and Georgicks, tranſlated into blan Verſe, by the ſame Author, Lond. — 1589 The Lamentation of Corydon for the Love of Alexis, Verſe for Verſe, out of Latine. T his is tranſlated into Engliſh Hexameters, and printed at the end of the Counteſſe of Pembroke* sTvychurch, 1591, By Abraham Frauncę. Virgil's Culex paraphraſed, by Spenſer. See his works, HORACE. Two Bookes of Horace his Satyres Evglyſhed, accordyng | to the [pn Io of Saint * ee 4to. B. L. Lond. — 0 Horace his Arte of Poetrie, Piſtles [| and Satyrs Engliſh- ed, by Tho. Drant, 4to. Lond, — 1567 * This 1 is a tranſlation of the Got and fourth books into blank verſe, and is perhaps the oldeſt ſpecimen of that metre in 55 Engliſh language. F Among the entries in the books of the Stationers? company, is the following. Tho. Creede. J Virgil's Aneidos in Engliſhe verſe, 1595. Again, in 1600. Again his Bucolics and Georgics in the | ſame year. t The copy which I have ſeen, was in 4to, printed at Leiden, and was entered as ſuch on the books of the Stationers? on the 24th of | January, 1582. There is an entry at Statieners' hall of the * of Horace in 1 591. | OVID, ANCIENT TRAN SLATIONS. 73 OVID. The fifteene Bookes of Metamorphoſeos. In which ben contaynid the Fables of Ovid, by William Caxton, Weſtm. fol. — 1480 The four firſt Books of Ovid, tranſl. from the Latin into Engliſh Meetre, by Arthur S Gent. 4to. B. L. Lond. 1565 The fifteene Bookes of p. Ovidins Naſo, « &c. by Arthur Golding, * Bl. L. W rra —— 1567 DD; | 1576 [ Another in 1575 according 1 to Ames. 4 Former Edition WAS in 1 572, in eter 7 s catal, ] 87. Do. 1612 The pleaſant Fable of Hermaphroditus and Salmacis. 8vo. Lond. 1565 The Fable of Ovid treating of Naceifus; tranſl. out of Latin into Eng. Mytre, with a Moral ther unto wy pleſante to rede, 4to. Lond. — The Heroycall Epiſtles, &c. ſet out and s 170 Geo. Turbervile, Gent. &c. B. L. 4to. Lond *. 1567 1569, and 1600 The three firſt Bookes of Ovid de Triſtibus, tranſl. into Engliſh, by Tho. Churchyard, 4to. Lond. 1580 + Ovid his Invective againſt Ibis, tranſlated into Eng. Meeter, &c. 12mo. Lond. — 15691 And, by Tho. Underwood. W Certaine of Ovid's Elegies by C. Marlow 5. 12mo. At Middleburgh. — no date. All Ovid's Elegies, three Bookes. By C. . M. At Middle- * Among the Stationers' entries I find i in 1594, © A booke en- titled Oenone and Paris, wherein is deſcribed the extremity of love,” &c, This may be a tranſlation from Ovid. This book was entered at Stationers? hall by Tho. Eaſte, July 1, 1577, and by Thomas Orwin in 1591. k t Among the entries in the books of the Stationers” company is the following. Henry Bynneman] July x, 1577, Ovid's Invective againſt Ibis. Bought of Tho. Eaſte. In the forty-firſt of Q. Eliz. theſe tranſlations from Ovid were commanded by the archbiſhop of N and the biſhop of London, to be burnt at Stationers' hall. | burgh. * 74 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS, burgh. 12mo. Somewhat larger than the preceding edition, 1 & Ovidius Naſo, his Remedy of love, tranſlated and en- tituled to the youth of England, 4to. 1600 Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, by Fra. Beaumont, 4to. R 1602 He likewiſe tranſlated a Part of the Remedy of Love. There was another Tranſlation of the whole, by Sir Tha. Overbary, 800. | | | without date * - PLA US 8+ Menzchmi, by W. W. Lond +, — 1594 MARTIAL. 5 Flowers of Epigrams (from Martial particularly) by Tim. Kendall, 8vo . — 3 1577 TERENCE, | Terens in Englyſh, or the tranſlacyon out of Latin into Engliſh of the firſt comedy of Tyrens callyd Andria. Suppoſed to be printed by F. Ruſtell f. | | ks Andria, On the books of the Stationers? company, Dec. 23, 1599, is en- tered, © Ovidius Naſo his Remedy of Love.” Again, in the ſame year, © Ovydes Epiſtles in Engliſhe, and © Ovydes Metamorphoſis * in Englyſhe.” | 8 | a + This piece was entered at Stationers' hall Tune roth 1594. In 1520, Viz. the 31th year of Hen. VIII. it appears from Holinſhed, that a comedy of Plautus was played before the king. 1 Entered at Stationers' hall Feb. 1576. ; & As the following metrical introduction to this play, relates chiefly to the improvements at that time ſuppoſed to have been made in the Engliſh language, I could not prevail on myſelf to ſuppreſs it. 8 The Poet. : The famous renown through the worlde is ſprong Of poetys ornate that usyd to indyte Of dyvers matters in theyr moderong Some toke upon them tranſlacions to wryte Some to compile bokys for theyr delyte But in our Engliſh tong for to ſpeke playn I rede but of few have take any gret payne | Except 4 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. 55 Andria, the firſt Comedy of e by Maurice Kyffin, 4to. 1588 Terence in Engliſh, * Richard Bernard, 4to. Chu. bridge “. — 1598 Except maſter Gowre which furſt began And of moralite wrote ryght craftely Than maſter Chaucer that excellent man Which wrote as compendious as aps As in any other tong ever dyd any Ludgate alſo which adournyd our tong Whoſe noble famys through the world be ſprong. By theſe men our tong is amplyfyed ſo That we therin now tranſlate as well as may As in eny other tongis other can do. Yet the Greke tong and Laten dyvers men ſay Have many wordys can not be Englyſhid this day So lyke wyſe in Englyſh many wordys do habound That no Greke nor Laten for them can be found. And the cauſe that our tong is ſo plenteouſe now For we kepe our Englyſh contynually. - And of other tongis many wordis we borow Which now for Englyſh we uſe and occupy Theſe thingis have gyven corage gretly To dyvers and ſpecyally now of late To them that this comedy have tranſlate, Which all diſcrete men now do beſech | And ſpecyally lernyd men to take no dyſdayn Though this be compylyd in our vulgare ſpech Yet lernyng thereby fome men may attayn For they that in this comedy have take payn Pray you to correct where faut ſal be found In the 2 At Stationers“ hall in 1 597, „the ſecond comedy of Terence, And of our matter ſo here is the ground. metrical peroration to this piece, is the following ſtanza: Wherfore the tranſlatours now require you this Yf ought be amys ye wold conſyder The Englyſh almoſt as ſhort as the Latten is And ftill to kepe ryme a dyffycult matter To make the ſentence opynly to appere Which if it had a-lopg expocyſion Then were it a comment and no tranſlacyon. called Eunuchus was entered by W. Leake; and the firſt and ſecond comedie in 1600. Flowers —— — , ⏑—— . 36 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS, Flowers of Terence, — — 1591 "Ih 8 KN RU | Seneca his Tenne Tragedies“, tranſlated into Englyſh by different 8 4to. Lond. 1581 * Seneca? s Forme and Rule of Honeſt nannies. by Rob. Whyttington, 8vo. 1546 Seven Bookes of Benefytingt, by Ard Arthur Golding, 4to. 1 LU CAN. | w E Lucan's Firſt Booke, tranſlated line for line, by Chr. Marlow, 4to. Lond, Printed by P. Short for Wal- ter Burre. — — 1600 1 Libios (Titus 1) and over Authores Hiſtorie a Annibal and Scippio, tranſlated into Engliſh, by Anthony Cope, Eſquier, B. L. 4to. Lond. — 1545 7 The Romane Hiſt. &c. by T. Livius of Padua. Alſo the Breviaries of L. Florus, &c. by D. Philemon Hol- land, fol. Lond. — CF 0 1A CI T US. 1 The End of Nero and Beginning of Galba. Fower $ 8 Bookes of the Hiſtories of Cornelius Tacitus. The Life of Agricola, by Sir Hen. Saville, 4to. Lond. 1591 Annales of Tacitus, by Richard ner, fol. 1598 | In the firſt volume of the entries of the Statfonere* company, Aug. 1579, Rich. Jones, and John Charlewood entered the 4th tra- gedie of Seneca. And again all the ten in 1581. | + In the firſt volume of the entries in the books of the Stationers? ' * company is the following, „March 26. 1579, Seneca de Beneficiis i in , : Englyſhe,” | I In the firſt volume of the entries in the books of the Stationers' company, anno 1597, is the following note: 6 Memorandum that Mr. Alexander Nevill, Gent. is appointed to tranſlate Titus Livius into the Englyſhe tongue: expreſſed, the ſame is not to be printed, by anie man, but only ſuch as ſhall have his tranſlacion.” Again, in 12598. « The hiſtory of Titus Livius“ was entered by Adam Iſlip. N e sSaLLUsr. ANcIENT TRANSLATIONS. 77 DES SALLUST® The Famous Cronycle of the Warre, which the Romyns had againſt Jugurth, &c. compyled in Lat. by the renowned Romayn Salluſt, &c. tranſlated into Eng- liſhe, by Sir Alex. Barclay Preeſt, &c. Printed by Pynſon, fol. : Do. } ; | Lond. pr. by Joh. Waley, 4to. — 1557 The Conſpiracie of Lucius Cataline, tranſlated into Eng. by Tho. Paynell, 4to. Lond. 1541 and 1557 The two moſt Worthy and Notable Hiſtories, &c. Both written by C. C. Salluſtius, and tranſlated by Tho. Heywood, Lond. ſm. fol. — 1608 SUETONIUS. Suetonius, tranſlated by D, Phil. Holland, fol, Lond. | | 1606t C S8 A Rf. Ceaſers Commentaries, as touching Britiſh affairs. With- out name, printer, place, or date; but by the type it appears to be Raſtell's. Ke Ames, p. 148. The eight Bookes of Caius Julius Cæſar, tranſlated by Arthur Golding, Gent. 4to. Lond. 1565 and 1590 Cæſar's Commentaries (de Bello Gallico) five Bookes, by Clement Edmundes, with Obſervations, &c. Fol. | 1600 De Bello Civili, by D®. three Bookes. Fol. 1609 De. by Chapman. — — — 1604 Dy JUSTIN. The Hiſt. of Juſtine, &c. by A. G. [Arthur Golding] Lond. 4to. — 1564 and 1578 De. by Dr. Phil. Holland — 1606 4 * *\ vs * A tranſlation of Salluſt was entered at Stationers* hall in 1588. E Again, in 1607, © The hiſtorie of Salluſt in Engliſſie.“ + This tranſlation was entered at Stationers' hall 1604. 1 In the entries made in the books of the Stationers' company is the following, | John Charele wood] Sept. 158 1, Abſtracte of the hiſtorie of Cæſar and Pompeius. | | Do. ** 4 7 * 4 # ij . # * * bs » x * WW -» 8 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS, De. by G. W. with an Epitomie of the Lives, &c. of | the Romaine Emperors, from Aurelius Victor, fol. 1606 Q CUREFIDUS. The Hiſtorie of Quintus Curtius, &c. tranſlated, &c. by John Brende, 4to. Lond. — — 1553 Others Editions were in 1561, 1584, 1570, 1592 * | EUTROPIUS, Eutropius engliſhed, by Nic. Haward, 8 vo. I 564 A. MARCELLINUS. Anus Marcellinus, tranſlated EI Dr. P. Holland. | Lond. fol. — — 1609 . 0. Cicero's Familiar Epiſtles by J. Webbe, ſm. 8vo. 0 date Certain ſelect Epiſtles into . by Abra. F lemming, 4to. Lond. | 1576 Thoſe Fyve Queſtions which Marke Tullye Cicero A. 23 vet in his Manor of Tuſculanum, &c. &c. Eng- ſhed by John Dolman, ſm. 8 vo. Lond. 1561 | pt Pom Tullius Cicero, three Bookes of Duties, tourn- ed out of Latin into Engliſh, by Nic. Grimalde 1555, 1556, 1558, 1 Ames ſays 1553 ; perhaps by miſtake, . + The thre Bokes af Tullius Offyce, &c. tranſlated, Ec. by R. * Poet Laureat, 12mo. Land, 1333. 1534, 1540, and 1553 4 * In the Stationers' books this or ſome other tranſlation of the ſame author was entered by Richard Tottell, Feb. 1582, and again by Tho? Creede, &e. 1599. + Mattaire ſays [Ann. Typog. B. 5. 290.] © In florulenta tituli marguncula (vulgo vignettee) ſuperiore, inſcribitur 1534. This was a wooden Block uſed by the Printer Tortel, for many Books in ſmall 8vo. and by no means determines their Date. There may howeyer, have been ſome earlier tranſlation than any here enumerated, as in Sir Tho. Elyot's Bote named ibe Governour, 1537, is mentioned “ the worke of Cicero, called in Latine De Offictis, whereunto yet is no propre Engliſh worde, &c. | 4 In the books belonging to Stationers hall, 5 Tullies Offices in Latin and Engliſh"? is entered Feb. 1582, for R. Tottell, Again, by Tho. Orwin, . Is 4 'The ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. 79 The boke of Tulle of Old Age, tranſlated by Will. Wyr- ceſtre, alias Botaner. Caxton, 4to, - 1481 De Senectute, by Whyttington, 8vo. | no date An Epiſtle or letter of exhortation written in Latyne by Marcus Tullius Cicero, to his brother Quintus, the Proconſul or Deputy of Aſia, wherein the office of a magiſtrate is cunningly and wiſely deſcribed ; tranſ- lated into Englyſhe by G. G. ſet forth and autho- riſed according to the Queenes Majeſties Injunctions. Prynted at London by Rouland Hall dwelling in Golding Lane, at the 3 of the three arrows. ſmall: 8vo. 1561 The worthie Booke of Ole Age, otherwiſh intitled The elder Cato, &c. 12mo *. Lond. 1569 Tullius Cicero on Old Age, wo, Tho. Newton, 8vo*. Lond. | — I 569 Tullius Friendſhip, Olde Age, Parade E 5 8 Dream, by Tho. Newton, 4to. 1 Tullius de Amicitia, tranſlated into our 3 * lyſhe Tongue, by the E. of 851 Printed Fs Caxton, with the Tranſlation of De Senectute, fol. The Paradoxe of M. T. Cicero, &c. by Rob. Whytting-' | ton, Poet Laureat. Printed 1 in Southwarke, —_ "8 40 Webbe tranſlated all the fiæteen Boobs of Cicero's Epiſtle, but probably they were not printed together in Shak- ] Jpeare's Life-time, I. ſuppoſe this, from a Paſſage in » if his Dedication, in which he ſeems to mean Bacon, by i a Great Lord Chancellor. | BORETHID-S. | Boechius, by Chaucer. Printed by Caxton, fol. Boethius in Engliſh Verſe, by Tho. Rychard. Imprinted in the exempt Monaſtery of Taviſtock, 4to. 152 5 Eng. and Lat. by Geo. Colville, 4to. 1556+ — ** Theſe are perhaps the ſame as the two Leech Tranſlations. + In thegStationers* books Jan. 13th, 1608, Matthew Lownes en- tered “ Anitius Manlius Torquatus Severinus Boethius, a Chriſtian Conſul of Rome, newly tranſlated out of Latin, together with original notes explaining the obſcureſt prey” Apr its 80 ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. APULEIUS. Apuleius's Golden Aſſe, tranſlated into Eng. by Wm. Adlington, 4to. Lond. — 1566 and 1571* FRONTINUS. Stratagemes, Sleightes, and Policies of Warre, gathered by S. Julius Frontinus. Tranſlated by Richard Moriſine, 8vo. Printed by Tho, Berthelet 1539 PLINY JUNr. Some ſele& Epiſtles of Pliny the Younger into Eng. by Abr. Flemming, 4to. Lond, — 1576 POMPONIUS M ELA. Pomponius Mela, by A. Golding, 4vlo. — 1590 FTF . Fliny's Nat. Hiſt. by Dr. Phil. Holland, fol f. 1601 SOLIN US. | + Julius Solinus Polyhiſtor, by A. Golding, 4to. 1587 VEGETIUS The four Bookes of Flavius Vegetius, concerning mar- tial Policye, by John Sadler, 4to. | 1572 4 RUTILIUS RUFUS. | A View of Valiaunce, tranſlated from Rutilius Rufus, by Tho. Newton, 8vo. — — 1580 DARES Phryg. and DIC TVS Cret. Dares and Dictys's Trojan War, in Verſe 1555 * There is an entry of this tranſlation in the books at Stationers* hall in 1595. Valentine Simes is the name of the printer who en- tered it. It is again entered by Clement Knight in 1600. + On the books of the Stationers' company is this entry. Adam Iflip, 2600.] The xxxvii bookes of C. Plinius Secundus his hiſtorie of the worlde. To be tranſlated out of Latin into Englyſhe and ſa printed.“ 5 | « CATO. ANCIENT TRANSLATIONS. 8 CATO, and P. SYRUS. Caton *, tranſlated into Englysſhe by Mayſter Benet Burgh, &c. mentioned by Caxton. ; Cathon [Parvus and Magnus] tranſl, &c. by Caxton | 1483t Preceptes of Cato, with Annotations of Eraſmus, &Cc. 24mo. Lond. — 1560 and 1562 1 Catonis Diſticha, Latin and Engliſh, ſmall 8 vo. Lond. Z I Ames mentions a Diſcourſe of Human Natare, 5 from Hippocrates, p. 428; an Extract from Pliny, tranſlated from the French, p. 312; Aſop 7, 225 by Caxton and others; and there is no doubt, but many Tranſlations at preſent unknown, may be gra- dually recovered, either by induſtry or accident. Probably this was never printed. + There is an entry of Caton at Stationers' hall in 1591 by Adams, Eng. and Lat. Again, in the year 1591 by Tho, Orwin. Again, in 1605, „ Four bookes of morall ſentences entituled Cato, tranſlated out of Latin into Engliſh by J. M. Maſter of Arts.“ : f“ ZEſop's Fables in Englyſhe” were entered May 7th 1590, on the books of the Stationers' company. Again, Oct. 1591, Again Eſop's Fables in Meter, Nov. 1598. Some few of them had been paraphraſed by Lydgate, and I believe are ſtill unpubliſhed. See the Brit. Muſ. MSS. Harl. 2251. . « It is much to be lamented that Andrea Maunſell, a bookſeller in Lothbury, who publiſhed two parts of a catalogue of Engliſh printed books. fol. 1595, did not proceed to his third collection. This, ac- cording to his own account of it, would have conſiſted of Grammar, Logick, and Rhetoricke, Lawe, Hiſtorie, Poetrie, Policie, &c. which, as he tells us, “for the moſt part concerne matters of delight and pleaſure,” 1 * Vor. I, . MR. MR. POPE*'S © R V. author; though to do it effectually, and not ſuper- cially, would be the beſt occaſion that any juſt writer could take, to form the judgment and taſte of our nation. For of all Engliſh poets Shakeſpeare muſt be confeſſed to be the faireſt and fulleſt ſubje& for criticiſm, and to afford the moſt numerous, as well as moſt conſpicuous inſtances, both of beauties and faults of all ſorts, But this far exceeds the bounds of a preface, the buſineſs of which is only to give an account of the fate of his works, and the diſadvantages under which they have been tranſ- mitted to us. We ſhall hereby extenuate many faults which are his, and clear him from the imputation of many which are not: a deſign, which, though it can be no guide to fature criticks to do him juſtice in one way, will at leaſt be ſufficient to prevent their doing him an injuſtice in the other, | I cannot however but mention ſome of his principal and characteriſtick excellencies, for which (notwithſtand- Ing his defects) he is juſtly and univerſally elevated above all other dramatick writers. Not that this is the proper place of praiſing him, but becauſe I would not omit any occaſion of doing it. | If ever any author deſerved the name of an original, it was Shakſpeare. Homer himſelf drew not his art fo immediately from the fountains of nature, it proceeded through Egyptian ſtrainers and channels, and came to him not without ſome tincture of the learning, or ſome caſt of the models, of thoſe before him. The poetry of Shakſpeare was inſpiration indeed: he is not ſo much an I: is not my deſign to enter into a criticiſm upon this . Imitator, as an inſtrument, of nature; and it is not ſo Juſt to ſay that he ſpeaks from her, as that ſhe ſpeaks through him, 8 His | MR. POPE'S PRE FACE. 83 His characters are ſo much nature herſelf, that it is a ſort of injury to call them by ſo diftant a name as copies of her. Thoſe of other poets have a conſtant reſem- blance, which ſhews that they received them from one another, and were but multipliers of the ſame image: each picture, like a mock-rainbow, is but the reflexion of a reflexion. But every ſingle charaQer in Shakſpeare is as much an individual, as thoſe in life itſelf; it is as impoſſible to find any two alike ; and ſuch as from their relation or affinity in any reſpe& appear moſt to be twins, will, upon compariſon, be found remarkably diſtin, To this life and variety of character, we muſt add the wonderful preſervation of it; which is ſuch throughout his plays, that had all the ſpeeches been printed with- out the very names of the perſons, I believe one might have applied them with certainty to every ſpeaker. The power over our paſſions was never poſſeſſed in a more eminent degree, or diſplayed in fo different in- ſtances, Yet all along, there is {een no labour, no pains to raiſe them; no preparation to guide our gueſs to the effect, or be perceived to lead toward it: but the heart ſwells, and the tears burſt out, juſt at the prope places: wie are ſurpriſed the moment we weep; an = upon reflexion find the paſſion ſo juſt, that we ſhould be ſur- priſed if we had not wept, and wept at that very moment. How aſtoniſhing is it again, that the paſſions directly oppoſite to theſe, laughter and ſpleen, are no leſs at his command ! that he 1s not more a maſter of the great than of the ridiculous in human nature; of our nobleſt tenderneſſes, than of our vaineſt foibles ; of our ſtrongeſt emotions, than of our idleft ſenſations ! i Nor does he only excel in the paſſions: in the cool- neſs of reflexion and reaſoning he is full as admirable. His /entiments are not only in general the moſt pertinent and judicious upon every ſubject; but by a talent very 3 ſomething between penetration and felicity, he | hits upon that particular point on which the bent of each argument turns, or the force of each motive depends. This is perfectly 0 1 N man of ng education | 2 or 84 MR. POPE*S PREFACE. or experience in thoſe great and publick ſcenes of life which are uſually the ſubje& of his thoughts: ſo that he ſeems to have known the world by intuition, to have looked through human nature at one glance, and to be the only author that gives ground for a very new opi- nion, that the | ay opher, and even the man of the world, may be born, as well as the poet. It muſt be owned, that with all theſe great excellen- cies, he has almoſt as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, ſo he has perhaps written worſe than any other, But I think I can in ſome meaſure account for theſe defects, from ſeveral cauſes and acci- dents ; without which it is hard to imagine that ſo large and ſo enlightened a mind could ever have been ſuſcepti- ble of them. That all theſe contingencies ſhould unite to his diſadvantage ſeems to me almoſt as fingularly un- lacky, as that ſo many various (nay contrary) talents ſhould meet in one man, was happy and extraordi- BAY. --, | | | 5 muſt be allowed that ſtage- poetry, of all other, is more particularly levelled to pleaſe the popalace, and its ſucceſs more immediately depending upon the common ſuffrage. One cannot therefore wonder, if Shakſpeare, having at his firſt appearance no other aim in his writ- ings than to procure a ſubſiſtence, directed his endea- vours ſolely to hit the taſte and humour that then pre- vailed. The audience was generally compoſed of the meaner ſort of people; and therefore the images of life were to be drawn Foe thoſe of their own rank : accord- ingly we find, that not our author's only, but almoſt all the old comedies have their ſcene among trade/men and mechanicks : and even their hittorical plays ſtrictly follow the common old /ories or vulgar traditions of that kind of people. In tragedy, nothing was ſo ſure to ſurprige and cauſe admiration, as the moſt ſtrange, unexpected, and conſequently moſt unnatural, events and incidents ; the moſt exaggerated thoughts; the moſt verboſe and bombaſt expreſſion; the moſt pompous rhymes, and thundering verſification. In comedy, nothing was ſo {ure to pleaſe, as mean buffoonry, vile ribaldry, and un- 8 | 1 mannerly « 15 MR. POPE'S PREFACE. 7 mannerly jeſts of fools and clowns. Yet even in theſe out author's wit buoys up, and is borne above his ſubject: his genius in thoſe low parts is like ſome | hoe; of a ro- mance in the diſguiſe of a ſhepherd or peaſant ; a certain greatneſs and ſpirit now and then break out, which ma- ni feſt his higher extraction and qualities. | It may be added, chat not only the common audience had no notion of the rules of writing, but few even of the better ſort piqued themſelves upon any great degree of knowledge or nicety that way ; till Ben Jonſon getting poſſeſſion of the ſtage, brought critical learning into vogue: and that this was not done without difficulty, may appear from thoſe frequent leſſons (and indeed al- moſt declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his firſt plays, and put into the mouth of his actors, the grex, chorus, &c. to remove the prejudices, and inform the judgment of his hearers. Till then, our authors had no thoughts of writing on the model of the ancients : their tragedies were only hiſtories in dialogue; and their comedies followed the thread of any novel as they found it, no leſs implicitly than if it had been true hiſtory. 6 6h 278 ITCOT To judge therefore of Shakſpeare by Ariſtotle's rules; is like trying a man by the laws of one country, who acted under thoſe of another. He writ to the people x and writ at firſt without patronage from the better ſort, and therefore without aims of pleafing them: without aſſiſtance or advice from the learned, as without the ad- vantage of education or acquaintance among them: without that knowledge of the beſt models, the ancients, to inſpire him with an emulation of them; in a word, without any views of reputation, and of what poets are pleaſed to call immortality: ſome or all of which have encouraged the vanity, or animated the ambition, of Other writers. 5.25 e , Yet it muſt be obſerved, that when his performances Had merited the protection of his prince, and when the encouragement of the court had ſucceeded to that of the town; the works of his riper years are manifeſtly raiſed above thoſe of his former. The dates of his plays. ſuffi- 3 | LF 3} clently $6 MR. POPE'S PREFACE. ciently eyidence that his productions improved, in pro- portion to the reſpe& he had for his auditors. And 1 make no doubt this obſervation would be found true in every inſtance, were but editions extant from which we pac learn the exact time when every piece was com- poſed, and whether writ for the town, or the court. Another cauſe (and no leſs ſtrong than the former) may be deduced from our author's 5 a player, and ns himſelf firſt upon the judgments of that body of men whereof he was a member, They have ever had a ſtandard to themſelves, upon other principles than thoſe of Ariſtotle. As they live by the majority, they know no rule but that of pleaſing the preſent humour, and com- lying with the wit in faſhion; a conſideration which brings all their judgment to a ſhort point. Players are Juſt judges of what is right, as taylors are of what is graceful, And in this view it will be but fair to allow, that moſt of our author's faults are leſs to be aſcribed to his wrong judgment as a poet, than to his right judg- ment as a player. 810 By theſe men it was thought a praiſe to Shakſpeare, that he ſcarce ever b/ozted a line. This they induſtri- ouſly propagated, as appears from what we are told by Ben Jonſon in his Diſcoveries, and from the preface of Heminge and Condell to the firſt folio edition. But in reality (however it has prevailed) there never was a more groundleſs report, or to the contrary of which there are more undeniable evidences. As, the comedy of The Merry Wives of Windſor, which he entirely new writ ; The Hiftery of Henry the Sixth, which was firſt publiſhed under the title of The Contention of York and Lancaſter ; and that of Heary rhe Fifth, extremely improved; that of Hamlet enlarged to almoſt as much again as at firſt, and many others. I believe the common opinion of his want of learning proceeded from no better ground, This too might be thought a praiſe by ſome, and to this his errors have as injudiciouſly been aſcribed. by others. For It is certain, were it true, it could concern but a ſmall part of them ; the moſt are ſuch as are not properly de- tes, but ſuperfcetations: and ariſe not from want of | | Jearning MR. POPE'S PREFACE. 97 learning or reading, but from want of thinking or judg- ing: or rather (to be more juſt to our author) from a compliance to thoſe wants in others. As to a wrong choice of the ſubject, a wrong conduct of the incidents, falſe thoughts, forced expreſſions, &c. if theſe are not to be aſcribed to the foreſaid accidental reaſons, they muſt be charged upon the poet himſelf, and there 1s no help for it. But I think the two diſadvantages which I have mentioned (to be obliged to pleaſe the loweſt of the peo- ple, and to keep the worft of company) if the confidera- tion be extended as far as it reaſonably may, will appear ſufficient to miſlead and depreſs the greateſt genius upon earth. Nay, the more modeſty with which ſuch a one is endued, the more he is in danger of ſubmitting and con- forming to others, againft his own better judgment. But as to his avant of learning, it may be neceſſary to ſay ſomething more: there is certainly a vaſt difference between learning and languages. How far he was igno- rant of the latter, I cannot determine; but it is plain he had much reading at leaſt, if they will not call it learning. Nor is it any great matter, if a man has knowledge, whether he has it from one language or from another. Nothing is more evident than that he had a taſte of natural philoſophy, mechanicks, ancient and modern hiftory, poetical learning, and mythology : we find him very knowing in the cuſtoms, rites, and manners of antiquity, In Coriolanus and Fulius Cæſar, not only the ſpirit, but manners, of the Romans are ex- actly drawn; and full a nicer diſtinction is ſhewn between the manners of the Romans in the time of the former, and of the latter. His reading. in the ancient hiſtorians is no leſs conſpicuous, in many references to particular paſſages :. and the ſpeeches copied from Plutarch in Corio- lanus * may, I think, as well be made an inſtance of his learning, as thoſe copied from Cicero in Catiline, of Ben noch The manners of other nations in general, the gyptians, Venetians, French, &c. are drawn with #* Theſe, as the reader will find in the notes on that play, Shak- ſpeare drew from Sir Thomas North's Tranſlation, 1579. Maron. . equal ——— —ü2e — — ÜW☚w 4. ˙ ¹Ü ä J —dq. ñ“,; — . 4 s : » 38- MR. POPE'S PRE FACE. equal propriety. Whatever object of nature, or branch „ =p ig he either ſpeaks of or deſcribes, it is always with competent, if not extenſive knowledge: his deſcrip- tions are ſtill exact; all his metaphors appropriated, and remarkably drawn from the true nature and inherent qualities of each ſubject, When he treats of ethick or politick, we may conſtantly obſerve a wonderful juſtneſs of diſtinction, as well as extent of comprehenſion. No one is more a maſter of the poetical ſtory, or has more frequent alluſions to the various parts of it: Mr. Waller (who has been celebrated for this laſt particular) has not ſhewn more learning this way than Shakſpeare. We have tranſlations from Ovid publiſhed in his name“, among thoſe poems which pals for his, and for ſome of which we have undoubted authority (being publiſhed by himſelf, .and dedicated to his noble patron the earl of Southampton): he appears alſo to have been converſant in Plautus, from whom he has taken the plot of one of his lays: he. follows the Greek authors, and particularly 55 Phrygius, in another: (although I will not pretend to ſay in what language he read them). The modern Italian writers of vel he was manifeſtly acquainted with; and we may conclude him to be no leis converſant with the ancients of his own country, from the uſe he has made of Chaucer in Troilus and Creſſida, and in The To Noble Kinſmen, if that play be his, as there goes a tradition 1t was (and indeed it has little reſemblance of Fletcher, and more of our author than ſome of thoſe which have been received as genuine). os M2 I am inclined to think this opinion proceeded origi- nally from the zeal of the partizans of our author and Ben Jonſon ; as they endeavoured to exalt the one at the expence of the other. It is ever the natute of parties to be in extremes; and nothing is ſo probable, as that be- cCauſe Ben Jonſon had much the more learning, it was ſaid on the one hand that Shakſpeare had none at all; and | becauſe Shakſpeare had much the moſt wit and * They were written by Themas Heywood, See Vol. 2 p. 321, No 1. MALONE. a pe Fan 5 | bo 5 fancy, MR. POPE'“S PREFACE. 89 fancy,. it was retorted on the other, that Jonſon wanted both. Becauſe Shakſpeare borrowed nothing, it was ſaid. that Ben Jonſon borrowed every thing. Becauſe Jonſon did not write extempore, he was reproached with being a year about every piece; and becauſe Shakſpeare wrote with eaſe and rapidity, they cried, he never once made a blot. Nay, the ſpirit of oppoſition ran ſo high, that whatever thoſe of the one fide objected to the other, was taken at the rebound, and turned into praiſes; as injudiciouſly, as their antagoniſts before had made them objections. | | | p Poets are always afraid of envy ; but ſure they have as much reaſon to be afraid of admiration. They are the Scylla and Charybdis of authors; thoſe who eſcape one, often fall by the other. Pefimum genus inimicorum lau- dantes, ſays Tacitus; and Virgil deſires to wear a charm againſt thoſe who praiſe a poet without rule or reaſon. A ultra placitum Iaudarit, baccare frontem Cingite, ne vati noceat—,. But however this contention might be carried on by the partizans on either fide, I cannot help thinking theſe two great poets were good friends, and lived on amica- ble terms, and in offices of ſociety with each other. It is an knowledged fact, that Ben Jonſon was introduced upon the ſtage, and his firſt works encouraged, by Shak- | ſpeare. And after his death, that author writes, To the memory of his beloved William Shakſpeare, which ſhews as if the friendſhip had continued through life. I can- not for my. own part find any thing inv:1dious or ſparing in thoſe verſes, but wonder Mr. Dryden' was of that opinion. He exalts him not only above all his contem+ poraries, but above Chaucer and Spenſer, whom he will not allow to be great enough to be ranked with him; and challenges the names of Sophocles, Euripides, and Aſchylus, nay, all Greece and Rome at once, to equal him: and (which is very particular) expreſsly vindicates him from the imputation of wanting art, not enduring that all his excellencies ſhould be attributed to nature. It is remarkable too, that the praiſe he gives him in his > ——_—_—— —— +» — 3 co MIR. POPE'S PREFACE. his Diſcoveries ſeems to proceed from a per/onal kindneſs $ he tells ns, that he loved the man, as well as honoured his memory; celebrates the honeſty, openneſs, and frankneſs of his temper; and only diſtinguiſhes, as he reaſonably ought, between the real merit of the author, and the filly and derogatory applauſes of the players. Ben Jonſon might indeed be ſparing in his commenda- tions (though certainly he is not ſo in this inſtance) partly from his own nature, and partly from judgment. For men of judgment think they do any man more ſervice in praiſing him juſtly, than laviſhly. I ſay, I would fain believe they were friends, though the violence and iIl-breeding of their followers and flatterers were enough to give riſe to the contrary report. I hope that it may be with parties, both in wit and ſtate, as with thoſe monſters deſcribed by the poets; and that their heads at leaſt may have ſomething human, though their bodies and tails are wild beaſts and ſerpents. | As I believe that what I have mentioned gave riſe to the opinion of Shakſpeare's want of learning; ſo what Has continued it down to us may have been the man blunders and illiteracies of the firſt publiſhers of his works. In theſe editions their ignorance ſhines in almoſt every page; nothing is more. common than Adtus tertia. Exit omnes. Enter three Witches folus * Their French is as bad as their Latin, both in conſtruction and ſpell- : ing: their very Welſh is falſe. Nothing is more likely than that thoſe palpable blunders of Hector's quoting Ariſtotle, with others of that groſs kind, ſprung from the ſame root: it not being at all credible that theſe could be the errors of any man who had the leaſt tincture of a ſchool, or the leaſt converſation with ſuch. as had. Ben Jonſon (whom they will not think partial to him) allows him at leaſt to have had oe Latin; which is ut- terly inconſiſtent with miſtakes like theſe. Nay, the conſtant blunders in proper names of perſons and places, * Enter three witches ſolus.] This blunder appears to be of Mr. Pope's own invention. It is not to be found in any one of the four folio copies of Macbeth, and there is no quarto edition of it extant. Fn | STEEVENSs are MR. POPE'S PREFACE. 98 are ſuch as muſt have proceeded from a man, who had not ſo much as read any hiſtory in any language: ſo could not be Shakſpeare's. 5 I ſhall now lay before the reader ſome of thoſe almoſt innumerable errors, which have riſen from one ſource, the ignorance of the players, both as his actors, and as his editors. When the nature and kinds of theſe are enumerated and conſidered, I dare to ſay that not Shak- ſpeare only, but Ariſtotle or Cicero, had their works undergone the ſame fate, might have appeared to want ſenſe as well as learning. 4 It is not certain that any one of his plays was publiſh- ed by himſelf. During the time of his employment in the theatre, ſeveral of his pieces were printed ſeparately in quarto. What makes me think that moſt of theſe were not publiſhed by him, is the exceſſive careleſſneſs of the preſs: every page is ſo ſcandaloully falſe ſpelled, and almoſt all the learned or unuſual words ſo intolerably mangled, that it is plain there either was no correQor to the preſs at all, or one totally literate. If any were ſuperviſed by himſelf, I ſhould fancy The Tao Parts of Henry the Fourth, and Mid/ummer-Night's Dream might have been ſo: becauſe I find no other printed with any exactneſs; and (contrary to the reſt) there is very little variation in all the ſubſequent editions of them. There are extant two prefaces to the firſt quarto edition of T roilus and Creſſida in 1609, and to that of Othello; by which it appears, that the firſt was publiſhed without his knowledge or conſent, and even before it was acted, ſo late as ſeven or eight years before he died: and that the latter was not printed till after his death. The whole number of genuine plays, which we have been able to find printed in his life-time, amounts but to eleven. And of fome of theſe, we meet with two or more edi- tions. by different printers, each of which has whole heaps of traſh different from the other : which I thould fancy was occaiioned by their being taken from different copies belonging to different play-houſes, _ The folio edition (in which all the plays we now re- ceive as his were firſt collected) was publiſhed by two - + players, | 1 | ; * | 1 92 MR. POPE'S PRE FAC E. players, Heminge and Condell, in 1623, ſeven years after his deceaſe. They declare, that all the other edi- tions were ſtolen and ſurreptitious, and affirm theirs to be purged from the errors of the former. This 1s true as to the literal errors, and no other; for in all reſpects elſe it is far worſe than the quartos. - 15 Firſt, becauſe the additions of trifling and bombaſt paſſages are in this edition far more numerous. For whatever had been added, ſince thoſe quartos, by the actors, or had ſtolen from their mouths into the written parts, were from thence conveyed into the printed text, and all ftand charged upon the author. He himſelf com- plained of this uſage in Hamlet, where he wiſhes that theſe who play the clowns would ſpeak no more than is ſet down for them. (Act III. ſc. iv.) But as a proof that he could not eſcape it, in the old editions of Romeo and Juliet there is no hint of a great number of the mean conceits and ribaldries now to be found there. In others, the low ſcenes of mobs, plebeians, and clowns, are vaſtly thorter than at preſent”: and I have ſeen one in particular (which ſeems to have belonged to the play-houſe, by Having the parts divided with lines, and the actors names in the margin) where ſeveral of thoſe very paſ- fages were added in a written hand, which are ſince to be found in the folio, a : | In the next place, a number of beautiful paſſages, | which are extant in the firſt ſingle editions, are omitted in this: as it ſeems, without any other reaſon, than their willingneſs to ſhorten ſome ſcenes : theſe men (as "it was ſaid of Procruſtes) either lopping, or ſtretching an author, to make him juſt fit for their ſtage. This edition is ſaid to be printed from the original copies; J believe they meant thoſe which had lain ever fince the author's days in the play-houſe, and had from time to time been cut, or added to, arbitrarily, It appears that this edition, as well as the quartos, was printed (at leaſt partly) from no better copies than the prompter's book, or piece- meal parts written out for the uſe of the actors: for in ſome places their a 4 95 9 MR. POPE'S PRE FACE. 95 very * names are through careleſſneſs ſet down inſtead of the Perhonæ Dramatis; and in others the notes of direc- tion to the property-men for their moveables, and to the players for their entries, are inſerted into the text - through the ignorance of the tranſcribers. The plays not having been before ſo much as diſtin- guiſhed by Ads and Scenes, they are in this edition divided according as they played them ; often when there is no pauſe in the action, or where they thought fit to make a breach in it, for the ſake of muſick, maſques, or monſters, | Sometimes the ſcenes are tranſpoſed and ſhuffled back- ward and forward; a thing which could no otherwiſe. happen, but by their being taken from ſeparate and piece-meal written parts. | Many verſes are omitted entirely, and others tranſ- poſed ; from whence invincible obſcurities have ariſen, paſt the gueſs of any commentator to clear up, but juſt where the accidental glimpſe of an old edition en- lightens us. | Some characters were confounded and mixed, or two put into one, for want of a competent number of actors. Thus in the quarto edition of Mid/ummer-Night's Dream, Act V. Shakſpeare introduces a kind of maſter of the revels called Philoſtrate; all whoſe part is given to an- other character (that of Egeus) in the ſublequent edi- tions: ſo alſo in Hamlet and King Lear, This too makes it probable that the prompter's books were what they called the original copies. | Much Ado about Notbiag, Act II., Enter Prince L-onato, Claus dio, and Jack Wilſon, inftead of Balthaſar. And in Act IV. Cowley and Kemp conſtantly through a whole ſcene. Edit. fol. of 1623, and 1632, Por E. + Such as, | | « My queen is murder'd! Ring the little bell,” 6 f— His noſe grew as ſharp as a pen, and a table of green Feld:; which laſt words are not in the quarto. Por z. above by Mr. Pope. MAL ON. There is no ſuch line in any play of Shakſpeare, as that quoted 4 From | | | 1 — — — — Lͤ— 94 MR. POPE'S PREPACE. From liberties of this kind, many ſpeeches alſo were put into the mouths of wrong perſons, where the author now ſeems chargeable with making them ſpeak out of character: or ſometimes perhaps for no better reaſon, than that a governing player, to have the mouthing of ſome favourite ſpeech himſelf, would ſnatch it from the unworthy lips of an underling, | | Proſe from verſe they did not know, and they accord- ingly printed one for the other throughout the volume. Having been forced to fay ſo much of the players, I think I ought in juſtice to remark, that the judgment, as well as condition of that claſs of people was then far inferior to what it is in our days. As then the beſt play- houſes were inns and taverns, (the Globe, the Hope, the Red Bull, the Fortune, &c.) ſo the top of the pro- feſſion were then mere players, not gentlemen of the ſtage: they were led into the buttery by the ſteward “, not placed at the lord's table, or lady's toilette: and conſequently were entirely deprived of thoſe advantages they now enjoy in the familiar converſation of our no- bility, and an intimacy (not to ſay dearneſs) with people of the firſt condition. WT From what has been ſaid, there can be no queſtion but had Shakfpeare publiſhed his works himſelf (eſpeei- ally in his latter time, and after his retreat from the ſtage) we ſhould not only be certain which are genuine, but ſhould find in thoſe that are, the errors leſſened by tome thouſands. If I may judge from all the diſtinguiſh - ing marks of his ſtile, and his manner of thinking and writing, I make no doubt to declare that thoſe wretched * Mr, Pope probably recollected the following lines in the Taming of tte Shrew, ſpoken by a Lord, who is giving directions to his ſervant concerning fome players: ; « Go, firrah, take them to the buttery, « And give them friendly welcome, every one.“ But he ſeems not to have obſerved that the players here introduced were ftrollers; and there is no reaſon to ſuppole that our authour, Heminge, Burbage, Lowin, &c. who were licenſed by K. James, were treated in this manner. MALONEs SO plays, MR. POPE'S PREFACE. - plays, Pericles, Locrine, Sir Fohn Oldcaftle, Yorkfbire Tragedy, Lord Cromwell, The Puritan, London Prodigal, and a thing called The Double Falſbood, cannot be ad- mitted as his. And I ſhould conjecture of ſome of the others, (particularly Lowe's Labour's Loft, The Winter's Tale, Comedy of Errors, and Titus Anaronicus,) that only ſome characters, ſingle ſcenes, or perhaps a few par- _ ticular paſſages, were of his hand. It is very probable what occaſioned ſome plays to be ſuppoſed Shakſpeare's, was only this; that they were pieces produced by un- known authors, or fitted up for the theatre while it was under his adminiſtration ; and no owner claiming them, they were adjudged to him, as they give ſtrays to the lord of the manor: a miſtake which (one may alſo ob- ſerve) it was not for the intereſt of the houſe to remove. Yet the players themſelves, Heminge and Condell, af- terwards did Shakſpeare the juſtice to reje& thoſe eight plays in their edition ; though they were then printed in his name“, in every body's hands, and acted with ſome applauſe (as we learned from what Ben Jonſon ſays of Pericles in his ode on the New Inn). That Titus An- @ronicus is one of this claſs I am the rather induced to believe, by finding the ſame author openly expreſs his contempt of it in the Induction to Bartholomew-Fair, in the year 1614, when Shakſpeare was yet living, And there is no better authority for theſe latter fort, than for the former, which were equally publiſhed in his life-time. - | 85 If we give into this opinion, how many low and vici- ous parts and paſſages might no longer reflect upon this great genius, but appear unworthily charged upon him? And even in thoſe which are really his, how many faults may have been unjuſtly laid to his account from arbitrary additions, expunctions, tranſpoſitions of ſcenes and lines, confution of characters and perſons, wrong application of ſpeeches, corruptions of innumerable paſſages by the ignorance, and wrong corrections of them again by the impertinence, of his firſt editors? From one or other of | A His name was affixed only to four of them, Matrox E. theſe | | | 96 MR. POPE'S PREFACE, theſe conſiderations, I am verily perſuaded, that the greateſt and the groſſeſt part of what are thought his errors would vaniſh, and leave his character in a light very different from that diſadvantageous one, in which it now appears to us. ; PE”. This is the ſtate in which Shakſpeare's writings lie at preſent ; for fince the above-mentioned folio edition, all the reſt have implicitly followed it, without having re- courſe to any of the former, or ever making the com- pariſon between them. It is impoſſible to repair the injuries already done him; too much time has elapſed, and the materials are too few. In what I have done I have rather given a proof of my willingneſs and deſire, than of my ability, to do him juſtice. 1 have diſcharged the dull duty of an editor, to my beſt judgment, with more labour than I expect thanks, with a religious ab- horrenee of all innovation, and without any indulgence to my private ſenſe or conjecture. The method taken in this edition will ſhew itfelf. The various readings are fairly put in the margin, ſo that every one may com- | pare them; and thoſe I have preferred into the text are conſtantly ex fide codicum, upon authority, The altera- tions or additions, which Shakſpeare himſelf made, are taken notice of as they occur. Some ſuſpected paſſages, which are exceſſively bad (and which ſeem interpolations by being ſo inſerted, that one can entirely omit them without any chaſm, or deficience in the context) are degraded to the bottom of the page; with an aſteriſk referring to the places of their inſertion. * The ſcenes are marked fo diſtinctly, that every removal of place is fpecified; which is more neceſſary in this author than any other, ſince he ſhifts them more frequently; and iometimes, without attending to this particular, the reader would have met with obſcurities. The more ob- ſolete or unuſual words are explained. Some of the moſt ſhining paſſages are diſtinguiſhed by commas in the mar- gin; and where the beauty lay not in particulars, but in the whole, a ſtar is prefixed to the ſcene, This ſeems to me a ſhorter and leſs oſtentatious method of perform- ing the better half of criticiſm (namely, the pointing out | an MR. POPE'S PREFACE. 9 an author's excellencies) than to fill a whole paper with Citations of fine paſſages, with general applauſes, or empty erxclamations at the tail of them. There 1s alſo ſubjoined a catalogue of thoſe firſt editions, by which the greater part of the various readings and of the corrected paſ- ſages are authorized; moſt of which are ſuch as carry their own evidence along with them. Theſe editions now hold the place of cr'_inals, and are the only mate- rials left to repair the deficiencies or reſtore the corrupted ſenſe of the author: I can only wiſh that a greater num ber of them (if a greater were. ever publiſhed) may yet be found, by a ſearch more ſucceſsful than mine, for the better accompliſhment of this end. Els b I will conclude by ſaying of Shakſpeare, that with all his faults, and with all the irregularity of his drama, one may look upon his works, in compariſon of thoſe. that are more finiſhed and regular, as upon an ancient majeſtick piece of Gothick architecture, compared with a neat modern building: the latter is more elegant and _ glaring, but the former is more ſtrong and more ſolemn. It muſt be allowed that in one of theſe there are mate- rials enough to make many of the other. It has much the greater variety, and much the nobler apartments though we are often conducted to them by dark, odd, and uncouth paſſages. Nor does the whole fail to ſtrike us with greater reverence, though many of the parts are childiſh, ill-placed, and unequal to its grandeur, . EE FS} 8 THE | | DEDICATION OF THE PLAYERS. | | To THE MOST NOBLE any INCOMPARABLE PAIRE | or BRETHREN, | „ Earle of PEM RROE E, &c. Load ee to the 8 Kings moſt Excellent Majeſtie; AND £0 J 8, + Earle of MoxTcomsry, &c. Gentleman of his Majeſties Bed-chamber. * | Both Knights of the Moſt Noble Order of the Garter, and our fingular good LORDS. RIGHT HONOURABLE, "HILST we ſtudie to be thankfull in our particu- lar, for the many favors we have received from your L. L. we are falne upon the ill fortune, to mingle two the moſt diverſe things that can be, feare, and raſn- neſſe; raſhneſſe in the enterprize, and feare of the ſuc- ceſſe. For, when we value the places your H. H. ſuſ- taine, wee cannot but know the dignity greater, than to deſcend to the reading of theſe trifles: and, while we name them trifles, we have deprived ourſelves of the de- fence of our dedication. But ſince your L. L. have been pleaſed to thinke theſe trifles ſomething, heeretofore; and have proſequuted both them, and their authour liv- ing, with ſo much favour; we hope that (they out- living him, and he not having the fate, common with ſome, to be exequutor to his owne writings) you will uſe the ſame indulgence toward them, you have done unto their pa- rent. There is a great difference, whether any booke chooſe his patrones, or finde them ; this hath done _ | For, THE PLAYERS' DEDICATION. 99 For, ſo much were your L. L. likings of the ſeveral parts, when they were acted, as before they were publiſhed, the volume aſked to be yours. We have but collected them, and done an office to the dead, to procure his orphanes, guardians; without ambition either of ſelfe- profit, or fame: onely to keepe the memory of ſo wor- thy a friend, and fellow alive, as was our SHAKSPEARE, by humble offer of his playes, to your moſt noble patro- nage. Wherein, as we have juftly obſerved no man to come neere your L. L. but with a kind of religious ad- dreſſe, it hath bin the height of our care, who are the preſenters, to make the preſent worthy of your H. H. by the perfection. But, there we muſt alſo crave our abili- ties to be conſidered, my Lords. We cannot goe beyond our one powers. Country hands reach forth mulke, creame, fruits, or what they have: and many nations (we have heard) that had not gummes and incenſe, obtained their requeſts with a leavened cake*. It was no fault to approach their gods by what meanes they could: and the moſt, though meaneſt, of things are made more precious, when they are dedicated to tem- ples. In that name therefore, we moſt humbly conſe- _ crate to your H. H. theſe remaines of your ſervant SHA x- _ SPEARE; that what delight is in them may be ever your L. L. the reputation his, and the faults ours, if any be committed, by a paire ſo carefull to ſhew their gratitude both to the living, and the dead, as is | Your Lord/hippes moſt bounden, | Joux Hzemince, HENRY CoNDELLs Country bands reach forth mill, cc. and many nat ion: t hat bad nee - gummes and incenle, chtained their requeſts with & lea vened cakes] This ſeems to have been one of the common-places of dedication in Shakſpeare's age. We find it in Morley's Dedication of a Book of Songs to Sir Robert Cecil, 1595: „ have preſumed” (ſays he) © to make offer of theſe ſimple compoſitions of mine, imitating (right ho- nourable) in this the cuſtoms of the old world, who wanting igcenſs to offer up to their gods, made ſhift inſteade thereof to honour them wich milk.” The ſame thought (if I recollect right) is again employed by the players in their dedication of Fletcher's plays, — 1647. ALONE. [G2] THE 1 E 2 oF THE FLA XK 8 S. TO THE GREAT VARIETY OF READERS ROM the moſt able, to him that can but ſpell : there you arenumbered, we had rather you were weighed. Eſpecially, when the fate of all bookes depends upon your capacities: and not of your heads alone, but of your purſes. Well! it is now publique, and you will ſtand for your priviledges, wee know: to read, and cen- ſure. Doe ſo, but buy it firſt. That doth beſt commend a booke, the ſtationer ſates. Then, how odde ſoever your braines be, or your wiſedomes, make your licence the ſame, and {pare not. Judge your ſixe-pen'orth, your ſhillings worth, your five ſhillings worth at a time, or higher, ſo you riſe to the juſt rates, and welcome. But, whatever you doe, buy. Cenſure will not drive a trade, or make the jacke goe. And though you be a magiſtrate of wit, and fit on the ſtage at Black-friars, or the Cock- pee to arraigne plays dailie, know, theſe playes have ad their triall already, and ſtood out all appeales; and do now come forth quitted rather by a decree of court, than any purchaſed letters of commendation. It had bene a thing, we confeſſe, worthie to have been wiſhed, that the author himſelfe had lived to have ſet forth, and overſeen his owne writings ; but ſince it hath been ordained otherwiſe, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you doe not envie his friends the office of their care and paine, to have collected and pub- liſhed them; and ſo to have publiſhed them, as where“ (before) you were abuſed with divers ſtolne and ſurrep- titious copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and ſtealthes of injurious impoſtors, that expoſed them, even 2 where] i. e. whereas. MAL. thoſe PREFACE BY THE PLAYERS. 101 thoſe are now offered to your view cured, and perfect of their limbes ; and all the reſt, abſolute in their numbers as he conceived them : who, as he was a happy imitator of nature, was a moſt gentle expreſſer of it. His mind and hand went together; and what he thought, he utter- ed with that eaſineſſe, that wee have ſcarce received from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our province, who onely gather his workes, and give them you, to raiſe him. It is yours that reade him. And there we 10pe, to your divers Capacities, you will finde enough, both to draw, and hold you: for his wit can no more lie hid, then it could be loſt, Reade him, therefore; and againe, and againe: and if then you doe not like him, ſurely you are in ſome manifeſt danger, not to under- ſtand him. And ſo we leave you to other of his friends, who, if you need, can bee your guides: if you neede them not, you can leade yourſelves, and others. And ſuch readers we wiſh him, | Jonn Hemince, HENRIE Cox pRII. 18 3] SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c, | 24 o F | WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, WRITTEN BY MR. ROWE. T ſeems to be a kind of reſpe& due to the memory of excellent men, eſpecially of thoſe whom their wit and learning have made famous, to deliver ſome account of themſelves, as well as their works, to poſterity. For this reaſon, how fond do we ſee ſome people of diſcovery any little perſonal ſtory of the great men of antiquity ! their families, the common accidents of their lives, and even their ſhape, make, and features, have been the ſub- Je& of critical inquiries. How trifling ſoever this curi- oſity may ſeem to be, it is certainly very natural; and we are hardly fatisfied with an account of any remark- able perſon, till we have heard him deſcribed even to the very cloaths he wears. As for what relates to men of letters, the knowledge of an author may ſometimes conduce to the better underſtanding his book; and though the works of Mr. Shakſpeare may ſeem to many not to want a comment, yet I fancy ſome little account of the man himſelf may not be thought improper to ga along with them. | He was the ſon of Mr. John Shakſpeare, and was born at Stratford- upon-Avon, in Warwickſhire, in April 1564. His family, as appears by the regiſter and publick writ- ings relating to that town, were of good figure and - faſhion there, and are mentioned as gentlemen. His father, who was a conſiderable dealer in wool *, had fo large a family, ten children in all, that though he was | | his © Ts fines who was a confiderable dealer in wwool,—] It appears that he had been officer and bailiff of Stratford- upon-Avon; and that he enjoyed ſome hereditary lands and tenements, the reward of his grandfather's faithful and approved ſervices to King Henry VII. See the Extract from the Herald's Office, TaxzoBALD. The N. 55 3 C4 7 OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARFR, 103 his eldeſt ſon, he could give him no better education than his own employment. He had bred him, it is true, The chief magiſtrate of the Body Corporate of Stratford, now diſ- tinguiſhed by the title of Mayor, was in the early charters called the High Bailiff, This office Mr. John Shakſpeare filled in 1569, as ap- pears from the following extracts from the books of the corporation, with which I have been favoured by the Rev. Mr. Davenport, Vicar of Stratford-upon-Avon. - cc ling 10, in the 6th year of the reign of our ſovereign lady Queen Elizabeth, John Shakſpeare paſſed his Chamberlain's accounts. | & At the Hall holden the eleventh day of September, in the ele- venth year of the reign of our ſovereign lady Elizabeth, 1569, were preſent Mr. John Shakſpeare, High Bailiff.” [ Then follow the names of the Aldermen and Burgeſſes.] & At the Hall holden Nov. 19th, in the 2 1ſt year of the reign of our ſovereign lady Queen Elizabeth, it is ordained, that every Alder- man ſhall be taxed te pay weekly 4d. ſaving Fobn Shakſpeare and Robert Bruce, who ſhall not be taxed to pay any thing; and every burgeſs to pay zd.“ | & At the Hall holden on the 6th day of September, in the 28th year of our ſovereign lady Queen Elizabeth. c At this hall William Smith and Richard Courte are choſen to be Aldermen in the places of John Wheler, and John Shakſpere, for that Mr, Wheler doth deſire to be put out of the company, and Mr, Shak- ſpere doth not come to the halls, when they be warned, nor hath nat done of long time.” From theſe extracts it may be collected, (as is obſerved by the gen- tleman above-mentioned, to whoſe obliging attention to my inquiries I am indebted for many particulars relative to our poet's family,) that Mr. John Shakſpeare in the former part of his life was in good cix- cumſtances, ſuch perſons being generally choſen into the corporation; and from his being excuſed [in 1579] to pay 4d. weekly, and at a ſubſequent period (1586) put out of the corporation, that he was then reduced in his circumſtances, | 3 It appears from a note to W. Dethick's Grant of Arms to him in 1596, now in the College of Arms, Vincent, Vol. 157, p. 24, that he was a juſtice of the peace, and poſſeſſed of lands and tenements to the amount of 5001. 1 Our poet's mother was the daughter and heir of Robert Arden of Wellingcote, in the county of Warwick, who, in the Mf, above re- ferred to, is called „ a gentleman of worſhip.” The family of Arden is a very ancient one; Robert Arden of Bromwich, eſq. being in the lift of the gentry of this county, returned by the commiſſioners in the twelfth year of King Henry VI. A.D. 1433- Edward Arden was Sheriff of the county in 1568.— The woodland part of this county was anciently called Ardern; afterwards ſoftened to Arden. Hence the name, Marůox . RR ET. for 1e SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &. for ſome time at a free-ſchool , where, it is probable, he acquired what Latin he was maſter of: but the nar- rowneſs of his circumſtances, and the want of his aſſiſt- ance at home, forced his father to withdraw him from thence, and unhappily prevented his further proficiency in that language. It is without controverſy, that in his works we 3 find any traces of any thing that looks like an imitation of the ancients. Ihe delicacy of his taſte, and the natural bent of his own great genius, (equal, if not ſuperior, to ſome of the beſt of theirs,) would cer- tainly have led him to read and ſtudy them with ſo much 3 ure, that ſome of their fine images would naturally have inſinuated themſelves into, and been mixed with his own writings ; ſo that his not copying at leaſt ſome- thing from them, may be an argument of his never hav- ing read/them. Whether his ignorance of the ancients were a diſadvantage to him or no, may admit of a diſ- pute: for though the knowledge of them might have made him more correct, yet it is not improbable but that the regularity and deference for them, which would have attended that correctneſs, might have reſtrained ſome of that fire, impetuoſity, and even beautiful extravagance, which we admire in, Shakſpeare: and I believe we are better pleaſed with thoſe thoughts, altogether new and uncommon, which his own imagination ſupplied him ſo abundantly with, than if he had given us the moſt beau- tiful et i out of the Greek and Latin poets, and that in the moſt agreeable manner that it was poſſible for a maſter of the Engliſh language to deliver them. Upon his leaving ſchool, he ſeems to have given en- tirely into that way of living which his father propoſed to him“; and in order to ſettle in the world after a fa- mily manner, he thought fit to marry while he was yet very young?. His wife was the daughter of one Hatha- >, 7 | ways 2 He had bred bim, it is true, at a free- ſcbool,] The free-ſchool, I preſume, founded at Stratford. THEOBAT D. 5 into that way of living zvbicb bis father propoſed to bim 3] I believe, that on leaving ſchool Shakſpeare was placed in the office of ſome country attorney, or the ſeneſchal of ſome manor court. See the E ay on the order of bis plays, Article, Hamlet. MA LON E. be tbought fit to marry while be was yet very young] It is 2 Ss | ; | al OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 0f way“, ſaid to have been a ſubſtantial yeoman in the neighbourhood of Stratford. In this kind of ſettlement he continued for ſome time, till an extravagance that he was guilty of forced him both out of his country, and that way of living which he had taken up; and though it ſeemed at firſt to be a blemith upon his good manners, and a misfortune to him, yet it afterwards happily prov- ed the occaſion of exerting one of the greateſt genzu/es that ever was known in dramatick poetry. He had by a misfortune common enough to young fellows, fallen into ill company; and amongſt them, ſome that made a frequent practice of deer-ſtealing, engaged him more than once in robbing a park that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlecote, near Stratford. For this he was proſecuted by that gentleman, as he thought, ſomewhat too ſeverely ; and in order to revenge that ill uſage, he made a ballad upon him 5. And though this, probably | the tain he did ſo; for by the monument in Stratford church erected to the memory of his daughter, Suſanna, the wife of John Hall, gentle- man, it appears, that the died on the 2d of July, 1649, aged 66: ſo that ſhe was born in 1583, when her father could not be full 19 years old. THxroBALD. Suſanna, who was our poet's eldeft child, was baptized, May 26, 1583. Shakſpeare therefore, having been born in April 1564, was nineteen the month preceding her birth. Mr. Theobald was miſtaken in ſuppoſing that a monument was erected to her in the church of Strat- ford, There is no memorial there in honour of either our poet's wife or daughter, except flat tomb-ſtones, by which, however, the time of their reſpective deaths is aſcertained, His daughter, Suſanna, died, not on the ſecond, but the eleventh of Tuly, 1649. Theobald was led into this error by Dugdale. MALONE. 4 His wife wvas the daughter of one Hatbarvay, ] She was eight years older than her huſband, and died in 1623, at the age of 67 years. | | | THEOBALD. The following is the inſcription on her tomb-ſtone in the church of Stratford : 8 « Here lyeth interred the body of ANNE, wife of William Shake- ſpeare, who departed this life the 6th day of Auguſt, 1623, being of the age of 67 yeares.” : After this inſcription follow fix Latin verſes, not worth preſerving, | MALONE. 5 — in order to revenge that ill uſage, be made a ballad upon bim. ] Mr. William Oldys, (Norroy King at Arms, and well known from the ſhare he had in compiling the Biographia Britannica) among the colleRions which he left for a Life of Shakſpeare, obſerves, that x — 1 there EIS 106 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. the firſt eſſay of his poetry, be loſt, yet it is ſaid to have been ſo very bitter, that it redoubled the proſecution | againſt 2s there was a very aged gentleman living in the neighbourhood of Stratford, (where he died fifcy years ſince) who had not only heard, from ſeveral old people in that town, of Shakſpeare's tranſgreſſion, but could remember the firſt ſtanza of that bitter ballad, which, repeating to one of his acquaintance, he preſerved it in writing; and here it is neither better nor worſe, but faithfully tranſcribed from the copy which his relation very courteouſly communicated to me.” 4 A parliemente member, a juſtice of peace, « At home a poor ſcare-crowe, at London an ale, « If lowſie is Lucy, as ſome volke miſcalle it, «6 Then Lucy is lowſie whatever befall it: « He thinks himſelf greate, « Yet an aſſe in his ſtate cc We allowe by his ears but with aſſes to mate. 4 If Lucy is lowhe, as ſome volke miſcalle it, « Sing lowſie Lucy, whatever befall it.“ Contemptible as this performance muſt now appear, at the time when it was written it might have had ſufficient power to irritate a vain, weak, and vindictive magiſtrate; eſpecially as it was affixed to ſeveral of his park-gates, and conſequently publiſhed among his neigh- bours.—It may be remarked likewiſe, that the jingle on which it turns, occurs in the firſt ſcene of the Merry Wives of Windſor. I may add, that the veracity of the late Mr. Oldys has never yet been impeached; and it is not very probable that a ballad ſhould be forged, from which an undiſcovered wag could derive no triumph from antiquarian credulity. STEEVENS. According to Mr. Capell, this ballad came originally from Mr, Thomas Jones, who lived at Tarbick, a village in Worceſterſhire, about 18 miles from Stratford-upon- Avon, and died in 1703, aged upwards of ninety, * He remembered to have heard from ſeveral old people at Stratford the ſtory of Shakſpeare's robbing Sir Thomas Lucy's park; and their acccunt of it agreed with Mr, Rowe's, with this addition, that the ballad written againſt Sir Thomas Lucy by Shakſpeare was ſtuck upon his park-gate, which exaſperated the knight to apply to a lawyer at Warwick to proceed againſt him, Mr, Jones (it is added) put down in writing the firſt ſtanza of this ballad, which was all he remembered of it,” In a note on the tranſcript with which Mr, Capell was furniſhed, it is ſaid, that “ the people of thoſe parts pro- nounce /oxfie like Lucy.” They do fo at this day in Scotland, Mr. Wilkes, grandſon of the gentleman to whom Mr. Jones repeated the ſtanza, appears to have been the perſon who gave a copy of it to Mr. Oldys, and Mr. Capell. In a Manuſcript Hifory of the Stage, full of forgeries and falſhoods of various kinds, written (I ſuſpect by William Chetwood the 12 — | = | ter OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE., 105 againſt him to that degree, that he was obliged to leave his buſineſs and family in Warwickſhire, for ſome time, and ſhelter himſelf in London, It is at this time, and upon this accident, that he is ſaid to have made his firſt acquaintance in the playhouſe. He was received into the company then in being, at firſt in a very mean rank®; but his admirable wit, and the natural turn of it to the ſtage, ſoon diſtinguiſhed him, if not as an extraordinary actor, yet as an excellent writer. His name is printed, as the cuſtom was in thoſe times, amongſt thoſe of the other players, before ſome old plays, but without any particular account of what ſort of parts he uſed to play; and though I have inquired, I could never meet with any further account of him this way, than that the top of his performance was the Ghoſt in his own Hamlet7, I ſhould have been much more pleaſed, ter) ſome time between April 1727 and October 1730, is the follow. ing paſſage, to which the reader will give juſt as much credit as he thinks fit: « Here we ſhall obſerve, that the learned Mr. Joſhua Barnes, late Greek Profeſſor of the Univerfity of Cambridge, baiting about forty years ago at an inn in Stratford, and hearing an old woman finging part of the above-faid ſong, ſuch was his reſpect for Mr. Shakſpeare's genius, that he gave her a new gown for the two following ſtanzas in it; and, could ſhe have ſaid it all, he would (as he often ſaid in com- pany, when any diſcourſe has caſually aroſe about him) have given her ten guineas: « Sir Thomas was too covetous, & To covet ſo much deer, ct When horns enough upon his head „ Moſt plainly did appear. 6 Had not his worſhip one deer left? «« What then? He had a wife &© Took pains enough to find him horns & Should laſt him during life.” MarLonr, 6 He was received into the company —at firft in a very mean rank ;] There is a ſtage tradition, that his firſt office in the theatre was that of Call-hoy, or prompter's attendant ; whoſe employment it is to give the performers notice to be ready to enter, as often as the buſineſs of the play requires their appearance on the ſtage. MALONE. 7 — than that the top of his performance was the Gboſt in bis owon . Hamlet. ] See ſuch notices as I have been able to collect on this ſubjeR, in the Liſt of old Englith actors, poſt, MAL oN E. | — —— — WV. 108 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. to have learned from certain authority, which was the firſt play he wrote*; it would be without doubt a plea- ſure to any man, curious in things of this kind, to ſee and know what was the firſt eſſay of a fancy like Shak. ſpeare's. Perhaps we are not to look for his beginnings, like thoſe of other authors, among their leaſt perfect writings ; art had ſo little, and nature ſo large a ſhare in what he did, that, for aught I know, the pertormances of his youth, as they were the moſt vigorous, and had the moſt fire and ſtrength of imagination in them, wete the beſtꝰ. I would not be thought by this to mean, that his fancy was ſo looſe and extravagant, as to be inde- pendent on the rule and government of judgment; but that what he thought, was commonly ſo great, ſo juſtly and rightly conceived in itſelf, that it wanted little or no correction, and was immediately approved by an im- partial judgment at the firſt ſight. But though the order of time in which the ſeveral pieces were written be ge- nerally uncertain, yet there are paſſages in ſome few of them which ſeem to fix their dates. So the Chorus at the end of the fourth act of Henry the Fifth, by a com- pliment very handſomely turned to the earl of Eſſex, ſhews the play to have been written when that lord was general for the queen in Ireland: and his elogy upon ueen Elizabeth, and her ſucceſſor king James, in the latter end of his Henry the Eighth, is a proof of that play's being written after the acceſſion of the latter of thoſe two princes to the crown of England. Whatever the par- ticular times of his writing were, the people of his ages who began to grow wonderfully fond of diverſions of this kind, could not but be highly pleaſed to ſee a genius 8 — to bave learned from certain authority, which vgs the firſt play be aurote.] The higheſt date of any I can yet find, is Romeo and liet in 1597, when the author was 33 years old; and - Richard the econd, and Third, in the next year, viz. the 34th of his age. Ro E. Richard II. and III. were both printed in x597,—On the order of time in which Shakſpeare's plays were written, fee the Eflay in this volume. MALON E. | | = 9 = for augbt I know, the performances of bit youth were the beß.] See this notion controverted in An Attempt to aſcertain the order of Shakſpeare's plays, MALONE. | : _ ariſe — n Ve ad » 2 I's = — 2 OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 109 ariſe amongſt them of ſo pleaſurable, ſo rich a vein, and ſo plentifully capable of furniſhing their favourite enter- tainments. Beſides the advantages of his wit, he was in himſelf a good-natured man, of great ſweetneſs in his manners, and a moſt agreeable companion; fo that it is no wonder, if, with ſo many good qualities, he made himſelf acquainted with the beſt converſations of thoſe times. Queen Elizabeth had ſeveral of his plays acted before her, and without doubt gave him many gracious marks of her favour: it is that maiden princeſs plainly, whom he intends by 4 fair veſtal, throned by the weft, M. N. D. and that whole paſſage is a compliment very properly brought in, and very handſomely applied to her. She was ſo well pleaſed with that admirable charaQer of Falſtaff, in The Two Paris of Henry the Fourth, that ſhe commanded him to continue it for one play more *, and to ſhew him in love. This is ſaid to be the occaſion of his writing The Merry Wives of Windſor. How well ſhe was obeyed, the play itſelf is an admirable proof. Upon this occaſion it may not be improper to obſerve, that this part of Falſtaff 1s ſaid to have been written originally under the name of O/7caf/z*: ſome of that family being then remaining, the queen was pleaſed to command him to alter it; upon which he made uſe of Falſtaff, The preſent offence was indeed avoided ; but I do not know whether the author may not have been ſomewhat to blame in his ſecond choice, fince it is cer- tain that Sir John Falſtaff, who was a knight of the garter, and a lieutenant-general, was a name of diſtin- * — ſhe commanded bim to continue it for one play more, | This anee- dote was firſt given to the publick by Dennis, in the Epiſile Dedicatory to his comedy entitled The Comical Gallant, 4to. 1702, altered from The Merry Wroes of wi fp MALoNE. | 1 — this part of Falſtaff is ſaid to hawe been originally under the name of Oldcaftle ;] See the Epilogue to Henry the Fourth. Pops. In a note ſubjoined to that epilogue, and more fully in Vol. V. p- 119, n. 1. the reader will find this notion overturned, and the origin of this vulgar error pointed out, Mr, Rowe was evidently deceived by a paſſage in Fuller's 1/rtbies, miſunderſtood, Matons. | guiſhed 110 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. iſhed merit in the wars in France in Henry the Fifth's and Henry the Sixth's times. What grace ſoever the queen conferred upon him, it was not to her only he _ owed the fortune which the reputation of his wit made. He had the honour to meet with many great and un- common marks of favour and friendſhip from the earl of Southampton *, famous in the hiſtories of that time for his friendſhip to the unfortunate earl of Eſſex. It was to that noble lord that he dedicated his poem of Yenus and Adonis*, There is one inſtance ſo fingular in the magnificence of this patron of Shakſpeare's, that if I had not been aſſured that the ſtory was handed down by Sir William D'Avenant, who was probably very well ac- quainted with his affairs, I ſhould not have ventured to have inſerted; that my lord Southampton at one time gave him a thouſand pounds, to enable him to go through with a purchaſe which he heard he had a mind to. A bounty very great, and very rare at any time, and almoſt equal to that profuſe generoſity the preſent age has ſhewn to French dancers and Italian ſingers. What particular habitude or friendſhips he contracted with private men, I have not been able to learn, more tllan that every one, who had a true taſte of merit, and could diftingutſh men, had generally a juſt value and eſteem for him. His exceeding candour and good-nature muſt certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit obliged the men of the moſt delicate knowledge and polite learning to admire him. | 5 His acquaintance with Ben Jonſon began with a re- markable piece of humanity and good- nature; Mr. onſon, who was at that time altogether unknown to the world, had offered one of his plays to the players, in order to have it acted; and the perſons into whole hands 2 — from the earl of Southampton, ] Of this amiable nobleman ſach memoirs as I have been able to collet, may be found in the tenth volume, prefixed to the poem of Venus and Adonis, Malone. * — be dedicated bis poem of Venus and Adonis, ] To this nobleman alſo he dedicated his Rape of Lucrece, printed in quarto in 1594. | MaLonEs it . . 2 "ES * . * * e 8 N eG ce 2 * * f N > 7 I COR R oa RR S A 3 I . CC ³ͤ K A A N W 8 * N 2 n « 5 EEE 8 wo x ; e 7 — = Os N - N £a tn RIES 1 T1 . 0 * —— PS EO 8 N OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 111 it was put, after having turned it careleſly and ſupercili- ouſly over, were juſt upon returning it to him with an F ill-natured anſwer, that it would be of no ſervice to their 9 company; when Shakſpeare luckily caſt his eye upon it, and found ſomething ſo well in it, as to engage him firſt to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Jonſon and his writings to the publick 3, Jonſon was cer. a | tainly 3 — to recommend Mr. Jonſon and his writings to the publick.] In Mr, Rowe's firſt edition, after theſe words was inſerted the follow. ing paſſage: | ce After this, they were profeſſed friends; though I do not know whether the other ever made him an 'equal return of gentleneſs and fincerity» Ben was naturally proud and inſolent, and in the days of his reputation did ſo far take upon him the ſupremacy in wit, that he could not but look with an evil eye upon any one that ſeemed to ftand in competition with him. And if at times he has affected to com- mend him, it has always been with ſome reſerve; infinuating his un. correctneſs, a careleſs manner of writing, and want of judgment. The praiſe of ſeldom altering or blotting out what he writ, which was given Him by the players, who were the firſt publiſhers of his works after his death, was what Jonſon could not bear: he thought it impoſlible, perhaps, for another man to ftrike out the greateſt thoughts in the | fineſt expreſſion, and to reach thoſe excellencies of poetry with the eaſe of a firſt imagination, which himſelf with infinite labour and ſtudy OD could but hardly attain to,” 1 I have preſerved this paſſage becauſe I believe it ſtrictly true, except 4 that in the laſt line, inſtead of but hardly, I would read-—newver. * Dryden, we are told by Pope, concurred with Mr. Rowe in think- ing Jonſon's poſthumous verſes on our author ſparing and invidious. See alſo Mr, Steevens's note on thoſe verſes. Before Shakſpeare's death Ben's envious diſpoſition is mentioned by one of his own friends; it muſt thererefore have been even then nos torious, though the writer denies the truth of the charge: « To my well accompliſh'd friend, Mr, Ben. Jonſon, - & cc Thou art ſound in body; but ſome ſay, thy ſoule C Enyy doth ulcer; yet corrupted hearts « Such cenſurers muſt have,” _ | ' Scourge of Foliy, by J. Davies, printed about 4611. The following lines by one of Jonſon's admirers will ſufficiently, ſupport Mr, Rowe in what he has ſaid relative to the ſlowneſs of that + writer in his compoſitions: _ | . 66 Scorn then their cenſures who gave out, thy wit « As long upon a comedy did fit «& As elephants bring forth, and that thy blots « And mendings took more time than Fox TUN E-Prors; a | - = Tat 112 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, Kc. tainly a very good ſcholar, and in that had the advantage of Shakſpeare ; though at the ſame time I believe it muſt 5 | be « That ſuch thy drought was, and ſo great thy thirſt, cc That all thy plays were drawn at the Mermaid firſt ; 4 That the king's yearly butt wrote, and his wine cc Hath more right than thou to thy Cariline,” The writer does not deny the charge, but vindicates his friend by ſaying that, however ſlow, : « He that writes well, writes quick." Verſes on B. Jonſon, by Jaſper Mayne. So alſo another of his Panegyrifts : 5 4 Admit his muſe was flow, *tis judgment's fate C To move like greateſt princes, till in tate.” In The Return from Parnaſſus, 1606, Jonſon is ſaid to be “ ſo ſſoæu an enditer, that he were better betake himſelf to his old trade of brick- laying.” The ſame piece furniſhes us with the earlieſt intimation of the quarrel between him and Shakſpeare. Why here's our fellow Shakſpeare put them [the univerſity poets] all down, ay, and Ben Jonſon too. O, that Ben Jonſon is a peſtilent fellow; he brought up Horace giving the poets a pill, but our fellow Shakſpeare hath given him a purge that made him bewray his credit,” Fuller, who was a di- ligent inquirer, and lived near enough the time to be well informed, confirms this account, aſſerting in his Wortbies, 1662, that - many were the wit-combats' between Jonſon and our poet. | It is a fingular circumſtance that old Ben ould for near two centuries have ſtalked on the ſtilts of an artificial reputation; and that even at this day, of the very few who read his works, ſcarcely one in ten yet ventures to confeſs how little entertainment they afford, Such was the impreſſion made on the publick by the extravagant praiſes of thoſe who knew more of books than of the drama, that Dryden in his Eſſay on Dramatick Poefie, written about 1667, does not venture to go further in his elogium on Shakſpeare, than by ſaying, „he was at leaſt Fonſon's equal, if not his ſuperior 3” and in the preface to his Mock Aſtrologer 1671, he hardly dares to aſſert, what, in my opinion, cannot be denied, that “ all Jonſon's pieces, except three or four, are but crambe bis coca; the ſame humours a little varied and written worſe.“ f 5 Ben however did not truſt to the praiſes of others. One of his ad- mirers honeſtly confeſſes, 46 — — he « Of whom I write this, has prevented me, « And boldly ſaid ſo much in his own praiſe, c No other pen need any trophy raiſe.” In vain, however, did he endeavour to bully the town into appro- bation by telling his auditors, “ By G- 'tis good, and if you like't, you may; and by pouring out againſt thoſe who preferred our r to : Im, 8 8 _ n Z ] S EARN - 52. T LENO // / Io OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 113 be allowed, that what nature gave the latter, was more Z than a balance for what books had given the former ; £ and the judgment of a great man upon this occaſion was, I think, very juſt and proper. In a converſation between 8 Sir John Suckling, Sir William D' Avenant, Endymion porter, Mr. Hales of Eton, and Ben Jonſon, Sir John Suckling, who was a profeſſed admirer of Shakſpeare, him, a torrent of illiberal abuſe; which, as Mr. Walpole juſtly obſerves, ſome of his contemporaries were willing to think wit, becauſe they were afraid of it: for, notwithſtanding all his arrogant boaſts, notwith- | ſtanding all the clamour of his partizans both in his own life-time and for ſixty years after his death, the truth is, that his pieces, when firſt Y performed, were ſo far from being applauded by the people, that they were ſcarcely endured ; and many of them were actually damned. «© — the fine pluſh and velvets of the age Did oft for ſixpence damn thee from the ſtage, — ſays one of his evlogiſts in Fonſonius Virbius, 4to. 1638, Jonſon hime 4 ſelf owns that Sejanus was damned, It is a poem,“ ſays he, in 1 his dedication to lord Aubigny, „that, if I well remember, in your lordſhip's fight ſuffered no leſs violence from our people here, than the ſubje of it did from the rage of the people of Rome.“ His friend E. B. (probably Edmund Bolton,) ſpeaking of the ſame performance, ſays, 1 « But when I view'd the people's beaſtly rage, 1 4 Bent to confound thy grave and learned toil, cc That coſt thee ſo much ſweat and ſo much oil, & My indignation { could hardly aſſuage. | 3 Again, in his dedication of Catiline to the earl of Pembroke, the F authour ſays, © Poſterity may pay your benefit the honour and thanks, when it ſhall know that you dare in theſe jig-given times to coun- tenance a legitimate poem, I muſt call it fo, againſt all noiſe of opi- nion, from whoſe crude and ayrie reports I appeal to that great and fingular facultie of judgment in your lordſhip.” See alſo the Epilogue to Every man in his humour, by lord Buckhurſt, quoted below in the Account of our old Engliſh Theatres, ad finem. To his teſtimony and that of Mr, Drummond of Hawthornden, (there alſo mentioned,) may be added that of Leonard Digges in hisVerſes on Shakſpeare, and of Sir Robert Howard, who ſays in the preface to his Plays, folio, 1665, (not thirty years after Ben's death,)“ When I confider how ſevere the former age has been to ſome of the bef? of Mr. Jonſon's never-to-be-equall'd comedies, I cannot but wonder, why any poet ſhould ſpeak of former tim es. The truth is, that how- ever extravagant the elogiums were that a few ſcholars gave him in their cloſets, he was not only not admired in his own time by the generality, but not even underſtood, His friend Beaumont aſſures him in a copy of verſes, that e his ſenſe is ſo deep that he will not be underſtood for three ages to come.” MALONE. Vor. I. Hl — 114 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, xc. had undertaken his defence againſt Ben Jonſon with ſome warmth ; Mr. Hales, who had fat ſtill for ſome time, told them *, That if Mr. Shakſpeare had not read the an- cients, he had likewiſe not ſtolen any thing from them ; and that if he would produce any one topick finely treated by any one of them, he would undertake to ſhew ſomething upon the ſame ſubj ect at leaſt as well written by Shakſpeare 5. | > THE 4 Mr. Hales, who had fat ill for ſome time, told them, ] In Mr. Rowe's firſt edition this paſſage runs thus: | « Mr. Hales, who had ſat ſtill for ſome time, hearing Ben frequently reproach him with the ⁊uant of learning and ignorance of the antients, told him at laß, That if Mr. Shakſpeare, &c. By the alteration, the fubſequent part of the ſentence— . if he would produce, &. is ren- dered ungrammatical. MALOxNE. 5 | | be would undertake to ſhew ſometbirg upon the ſame ſubjef at leaſt as well written by Shakſfeare.] I had long endeavoured in vain to find out on what authority this relation was founded; and have very lately diſcovered that Mr. Rowe probably derived. his information from Dryden; for in Gildon's Letters and Eſjays, publiſhed in 1594, fifteen. years before this Life appeared, the fame ſtory is told; and Dryden, to whom an Eflay in vindication of Shakſpeare is addreſſed, is appealed. to by the writer as his authority, As Gildon tells the ſtory with | ſome ſlight variations from the account given by Mr. Rowe, and the book in which it is found is now extremely ſcarce, I ſhall ſubjoin the paſſage in his own words: 4 But to give the world ſome ſatisfaction that Shakſpeare has had as great veneration paid his excellence by men of unqueſtioned parts, as this I now expreſs for him, I ſhall give ſome account of what I have heard from your mouth, fir, aboat the noble triumph he gained over all the ancients, by the judgment of the ableſt criticks of that time. | © The matter of fact, if my memory fail me not, was this, Mr, Hales of Eton affirmed, that he would ſhew all the poets of anti- quity out-done by Shakſpeare, in all the topicks and. common-places made uſe of in poetry. The enemies of Shakſpeare would by no means yield him ſo much excellence; ſo that it came to a reſolution of a trial of ſkill upon that ſubject. The place agreed on for the diſ- pute was Mr. Hales's chamber at Eton. A great many books were fent down by the enemies of this poet; and on the appointed day my lord Falkland, Sir John Suckling, and all the perſons of quality that had wit and learning, and intereſted themſelves in the quarrel, met there; and upon a thorough diſquiſitionof the point, the judges choſen by agreement out of this learned and ingenious aſſembly, unanimouſly | gave the preference to Shakſpeare, and the Greek and Roman poets were adjudged to vail at leaſt their glory in that, to the Engliſh Hero.“ This elogium on our authour is likewiſe recorded at: an earlier pe- tiod by Tate, probably from the ſame authority, in the preface * r * OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 115 The latter part of his life was ſpent, as all men of good ſenſe will wiſh theirs may be, in eaſe, retirement, and the converſation of his friends. He had the good fortune to gather an eſtate equal to his occaſion 3, and, Loyal General, quarto, 1680: „ Our learned Hales was wont to aſſert, that, ſince the time of Orpheus, and the oldeſt yoets, no common-place has been touched upon, where our author has not performed as well.“ Dryden himſelf alſo certainly alludes to this ſtory, which he appears to have related both to Gildon and Rowe, in the following paſſage of his Eſſay of Dramatick Pueſy, 1667; and he as well as Gildon goes ſomewhat further than Rowe in his panegyrick. After giving that fine character of our poet which Dr. Johnſon has quoted in his preface, he adds, „The confideration of this made Mr, Hales of Eton ſay, that there was no ſubject of which any poet ever writ, but be would produce. it MUCH BETTER done by Shakſpeare; and however others are now generally preferred before him, yet the age wherein he lived, which had contemporaries with him, Fletcher and Jonſon, never equalled them to him in their eſteem: And in the laſt king's court [that of Charles we Ps Ben's reputation was at higheſt, Sir John Suckling, and with him the greater part of the courtiers ſet our Shakſpeare far above him.“ Let ever-memorable Hales, if all his other merits be forgotten, be ever mentioned with honour, for his good taſte and admiration of our poet; © He was,” ſays Lord Clarendon, „ one of the leaſt men in the kingdom; and one of the g:eateſt ſcholars in Europe. See a long character of him in Clarendon's Life, Vol. I. p. 52. Maroxne. 5 He had the good fortune to gather an eſfate equal to bis —— Gildon, without authority, I believe, fays, that our authour le behind him an eftate of gool. per ann. This was equal to at leaſt 110001, per ann. at this day; the relative value of money, the mode of living in that age, the luxury and taxes of the preſent time, and various other circumſtances, being confidered. But I doubt whether all his property amounted to much more than 20ol. per ann. which yet was a conſiderable fortune in thoſe times. He appears from his grand-daughter's will to have poſſeſſed in Biſhopton, and Stratford Welcombe, four yard land and a half. A yard land is a denomina- tion well known in Warwickſhire, and contains from 30 to 60 acres. The average therefore being 45, four yard land and a half may be eſti- mated at about two hundred acres. As fixteen years purchaſe was the common rate at which land was ſold at that time, that is, dne half leſs than at this day, we may ſuppoſe that theſe lands were let at ſeven ſhillings per acre, and produced Jol, per annum. If we rate the New Place with the appurtenances, and our poet's other houſes in Stratford, at 60l. a year, and his houſe &c. in the Blackfriars, (for which he pay'd 140l.) at 20l. a year, we have a rent-roll of 15o0l. per annum. Of 'his perſonal property it is not now * to form any accurate eſti- 2 J mate: —— —— —— ꝛTU—— ſw— — — : — * — 1 . . ³ ü ]¶ » ‚— gre ** . A IL 1% Ghent Wes —ů —-— A — — es 116 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, xc. in that, to his wiſh ; and is ſaid to have ſpent ſome years before his death at his native Stratford . His pleaſure- TOP able mate: but if we rate it at five hundred pounds, money then bear- ing an intereſt of ten per cent, Shakſpeare's total income was 200l, per ann. In the Merry Wives of Windſor, which was written ſoon after the year 1600, Three hundred pounds a year is deſcribed as an eſtate of ſuch magnitude as to cover all the defects of its poſſeſſor: 6% O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults | «© Look handſome in three hundred pounds a year!” Maron. 6 — to bave ſpent ſome years before his death at bis native Stratford.] In 1614 the greater-part of the town of Stratford was conſumed by fire; but our Shakſpeare's houſe, among ſome others, eſcaped the flames. This houſe was firſt built by Sir Hugh Clopton, a younger brother of an antient family in that neighbourhood. Sir Hugh was Sheriff of London in the reign of Richard III. and Lord- Mayor in the reign of King Henry VII. By his will he bequeathed to his elder brother's ſon his manor of Clopton, &c. and his houſe, by the name of the Great Houſe in Stratford. Good part of the eſtate is yet [in 1733] in the poſſeſſion of Edward Clopton, eſq. and Sir Hugh Clopton, EK nt. lineally deſcended from the elder brother of the firſt Sir Hugh. The eſtate had now been ſold out of the Clopton family for above a century, at the time when Shakſpeare became the purchaſer ; who having repaired and modelled it to his own mind, changed the name to New-Place, which the manſfion-houſe fince erected upon the ſame ſpot, at this day retains. The houſe, and lands which attended it, continued in Shakſpeare's deſcendants to the time of the Reſtoration z when they were re-purchaſed by the Clopton family, and the manſion now belongs to Sir Hugh Clopton, Knt. To the favour of this wor- thy gentleman I owe the knowledge of one particular in honour of our poet's once dwelling. houſe, .of which I preſume Mr, Rowe never was apprized. When the Civil War raged in England, and King Charles the Firſt's Queen was driven by the neceſſity of her affairs to make a receſs in Warwickſhire, the kept her court for three weeks in New- Place. We may reaſonably ſuppoſe it then the belt private. houſe in the town ; and her Majeſty preferred it to the College, which was in the poſſeſſion of the Combe family, who did not ſo ſtrongly favour the king's party. Txt0BALD. Os From Mr. Theobald's words the reader may be led to ſuppoſe that Henrietta Maria was obliged to take refuge from the rebels in Strat- ford-upon-Avon: but that was not the caſe. She marched from Newark, June 16, 1643, and entered Stratford-upon-Avon triumph- antly, about the 22d of the ſame month, at the head of three thou- ſand foot and fifteen hundred horſe, with 15a waggons and a train of artiliery, Here the was met by Prince Rupert, accompanied by a large body of troops. After ſojourning about three weeks at our poet's houſe, which was then poſſeſſed by his grand-daughter Mrs. Naſh, and her huſband, the Queen went (July 23) to the plain of Keinton : under MHA NA! ll With 1 * Aa "i 125 111 L of: 2 FA ie Al 11 Minn e IN 100 0 | a Tü 1 mg e 2 7 < ſhe 22 in Wii 2 i My ee NU — +0; ; . — EE + — —„—' An e eee, 1 Mo . xj = - 22 bo Xt 2 5 S = RH — ů il F MTN it +l 3 Fl Isi Py &- e Toke FFF NT | 5 1 1. : i my jt INN 7 Fe 227 | 2 L 17770 2 FTE 7 10 14 1 na 10 LIE "itt k lis 1 1 1 Cl ordan ded. A Borell ſe NEW PLACE, 8 Heron 4 STR CEORGCE CAREW, 7 2 eon. (Avon, n1786. 2 e e 4 7,6 Clopiron near gton & Partners Octv. 1, 1790. . * 1 JR an e eee, S URVEY, ade ofTornuss) and ound at EARL 7 Heng, {lopton,and 12 on” P - - /afietwards Baron Carew of | - 0 0 —— * Fr ˙ A RE hr , EIS F, op 5 * T Ms FLY W e e e be 1 e 5 9 9 Ras ˙——— ar ei a hae * * * a 8 ; £ ” * c * © a - * ' | * ; — \ | 1 * z % | - . 4 * ON ? A : » of o * * - . 7s — 3 . 2 * o * 5 : » 0 "il *% . — . * . * ; , „ 5 . * % ” . . 3 — * +. n * . Rr 9 —— oh — — — —— ò—I—U — —————C CC mw” RD... PACO Nw oe c er VT —-— ——ð t «4 oy. wa > > ry er - _ A OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 117 able wit and good-nature engaged him in the acquaint- ance, and entitled him to the friendſhip, of the gentlemen > of under Edge-hill, to meet the king, and proceeded from thence with him to Oxford, where ſays a contemporary biſtorian, “ her coming (July 15) was rather to a triumph than a war.““ 7 Of the college above- mentioned the following was the origin. John de Stratford, Biſhop of Wincheſter, in the fifth year of King Edward III. founded a Chantry conſiſting of five prieſts, one of whom was Warden, in a certain chapel adjoining to the church of Stratford on the ſouth ſide; and afterwards (in the ſeventh year of Henry VIII.) Ralph Collingwode inſtituted four choriſters, to be daily aſſiſtant in the celebration of divine ſervice there, This chantry, ſays Dugdale, ſoon after its foundation, was known by the name of The College of Strat- ford-upon-Avon. | | | | In the 26th year of Edward III. © a houſe of ſquare ſtone” was built by Ralph de Stratford, biſhop of London, for the habitation of the five prieſts. This houſe, or another on the ſame ſpot, is the houſe: of which Mr, Theobald ſpeaks. It ſtill bears the name of“ The Col- lege,” and at preſent belongs to the Rev. Mr. Fullerton. 2 After the ſuppreſſion of religious houſes, the ſite of the college was granted by Edward VI. to John earl of Warwick and his heirs ; who be- ing attainted in the iſt year of Queen Mary, it reverted to the crown. Sir John Clopton, knight, (the father of Edward Clopton, eſq.' and Sir Hugh Clopton,) who died at Stratford-updh- Avon in April 1719, purchaſed the eſtate of New-Place, &c, ſome time after the year 1685, from Sir Reginald Forſter, Baronet, who married Mary, the daughter of Edward Nath, eſq. couſin- german to Thomas Nath, eſq. who married our poet's grand-daughter, Elizabeth Hall. Edward Naſh bought it, after the death of her ſecond huſband, Sir John Barnard, knight. By her will, which will be found in a ſubſequent page, ſhe directed her truſtee, Henry Smith, to ſell the New-Place, &c. (after the death of her huſband,) and to make the firſt offer of it to her coufin Edward Nath, who purchaſed it accordingly, His ſon Thomas Naſh, whom for the ſake of diſtinction I ſhall call the younger, having died without iſſue, in Auguſt 1652, Edward Naſh by his will, made on the 16th of March, 1678-9, deviſed the principal part of his property to his daughter Mary, and her huſband Reginald Forſter, eſq. after- wares Sir Reginald Forſter ; but in conſequence of the teſtator's only referring to a deed of ſettlement executed three days before, without reciting the ſubſtance of it, no particular mention of New-Place is made in his will. After Sir John Clopton had bought it from Sir Reginald Forſter, he gave it by deed to his younger ſon, Sir Hugh, who pulled down our poet's houſe, and built one more elegant on the ſame ſpot, In May 1742, when Mr, Garrick, Mr. Macklin, and Mr. Delane, viſited Stratford, they were hofpitably entertained under Shakſpeare's mulberry-tree, by Sir Hugh Clopton. He was a barriſter at law, was | [7] knighted 118 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. of the neighbourhood. Amongſt them, it is a ſtory al- moſt ſtill remembered in that country that he had a par- | ticular knighted by George the Firſt, and died in the Both year of his age, in Dec, 1751. His nephew Edward Clopton, the ſon of his elder brother Edward, lived till June 1753. | The only remaining perſon of the Clopton family now living (1788), as I am informed by the Rev. Mr. Davenport, is Mrs. Partheriche, daughter and heireſs of the ſecond Edward Clopton above-mentioned, « She reſides,” he adds, 44 at the family manſion at Clopton near Stratford, is now a widow, and never had any iſſue.“ | The New-Place was fold by Henry Talbot, efq. ſon-in-law and | executor of Sir Hugh Clopton, in or foon after the year 1752, to the Rev, Mr. Gaſtrell, a man of large fortune, who reſided in it but a few years; in conſequence of a diſagreement with the inhabitants of Stratford. Every houſe in that town that is let or valued at more than 40s. a year, is aſſeſſed by the Overfeers, according to its worth and the ability of the occupier, to pay a monthly rate toward the maintenance of the poor. As Mr, Gaftrell reſided part of the year at Lichfield, he thought he was aſſeſſed too highly; but being very properly compelled by the magiſtrates of Stratford to pay the whole of what was levied on him,. on the principle that his houſe was occupied by his ſervants in his abſence, h | ſhould never be aſſeſſed again; and foon afrerwards pulled it down, ſold the materials, and left the town. Wiſhing, as it ſhould ſeem, to be «© damn'd to everlaſting fame, he had fome time before cut down Shakſneare's celebrated mulberry-tree, to ſave himſelf the trouble of ſhewing it to. thoſe whoſe admiration of our great poet led them to viſit the poetick ground on which it ſtood. | . That Shakſpeare planted this tree, is as well authenticated as any thing of that nature can be. The Rev. Mr, Davenport informs me, that Mr. Hugh Taylor, (the father of his clerk,) who is now eighty- five years old, and an alderman of Warwick, where he at preſent reſides, ſays, he lived when a boy at the next houſe to New-Place ; that his family had inhabited the houſe for almoſt three hundred years; that it was tranſmitted from father to fon during the laſt and the pre- ſent century, that this tree (of the fruit of which he had often eaten in his younger days, ſome of its branches hanging over his father's garden,) was planted by Shakſpeare; and that till this was planted, there was no mulberry-tree in that neighbourhood. Mr. Taylor adds, that he was frequently, when a boy, at New-Place, and that this tradition was preſerved in the Clopton family, as well as in his own. There were ſcarce any trees of this ſpecies in England till the year 1609, when by order of King James many hundred thouſand young mulberry- trees were imported from France, and ſent into the diftzrent counties, with a view to the feeding of ſilkworms, and the encou- ragement of the ſilk manufacture. See Camceni Annales ab anno 160 3 4 e peeviſhly declared, that that houſe N * NY . = < 2 ES 1 K 44 % 4 75 * 2 Aer Nr N S At We 15, hos r 5 r rr "a 33 £4 3 — 88 r TY, eas 8 3 Pe A SEES dp Cen ar 2 Rr HL 3.4 => AY Wa Sf IWF 45) 2 r * Fe. Pt 2 W . va 0% US On e oa wb e bent ß Su hk : 8 8 5 2 8 a 3 r DNS FN 8 — n — n N 8 5 * * . * a, w ah — der neg WY * AZ 3 0 = Sa eee T Re og of Itoh — ge 1 3 4 + 1 P — Fi " 2 "7 8 > . TS 45 9 88 FA De * 2 8 Ry 83 N Ko 8 8 . a - SY 1 r 2 2» E c . 2 5 ESL COLES E | 2 0 — Oe; I} NE REO RT 0 * : "7 = KS. 8 2 FF r A 5 vb * an gy oO c - 8 2 d . OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 119 ticular intimacy with Mr. Combe?, an old gentleman noted thereabouts for his wealth and uſury: it happened, that in a pleaſant converſation amongſt their common friends, Mr. Combe told Shakſpeare in a laughing man- ad annum 1623, publiſhed by Smith, quarto, 1691, p. 7; and Howes's Abridgment of Stowe's Chronicle, edit. 1618, p. 503, where we have a more particular account of this tranſaction than in the larger work. A very few mulberry-trees had been planted before; for we are told, that in the preceeding year a gentleman of Picardy, Monſieur Foreſt, ce kept greate ſtore of Engliſh filkworms at Greenwich, the which the king with great pleaſure came often to ſee them worke; and of their ſilke he cauſed a piece of taffata to be made,” Shakſpeare was perhaps the only inhabitant of Stratford, whoſe buſineſs called him annually to London; and probably on his return from thence in the ſpring of the year 1609, he planted this tree. As a ſimilar enthuſiaſm to that which with ſuch diligence has ſought after Virgil's tomb, may lead my countrymen to viſit the ſpot where our great bard ſpent ſeveral years of his life, and died; it may gratify them to be told that the ground on which The New-Place once ſtood, is now a Garden belonging to Mr. Charles Hunt, an eminent attor- ney, and town-clerk of Stratford. Every Engliſhman will, I am ſure, concur with me in wiſhing that it may enjoy perpetual verdure and fertility. : In this retreat our SHAKsPEARE's godlike mind With matchleſs {kill furvey'd all human kind. Here may each ſweet that bleſt Arabia knows, Flowers of all bue, and without thorn the roſe, To lateſt time, their balmy odours fling, And Nature here diſplay eternal ſpring! MALOoNE. 7 — that be bad à particular intimacy with Mr. Combe,] This Mr, John Combe I take to be the ſame, Who by Dugdale, in his Antiquities of Warwickſhire, is ſaid to have died in the year 1614 and tor whom at the upper end of the quire of the guild of the holy croſs at Stratford, a fair monument is erected, having a ſtatue thereon cut in alabafter, and in a gown, with this epgitaph. Here lyeth in- terred the body of John Combe, Eſq. who departing this life the roth day of July, 1614, bequeathed by his laſt will and teſtament theſe ſums enſuing, annually to be paid for ever; viz. xx. s. for two fer- mons to be preach'd in this church, and vi. I. iii.s. ivd. to buy ten gownes for ten poore people within the borough of Stratford ; and 1o0l. to be lent to fifteen poore tradeſmen of the ſame borough, from three years to three years, changing the parties every third year, at the rate of fifty ſhillings per annum, the which increaſe he appointed to be diftributed towards the relief of the almes-poor there,” The donation has all the air of a rich and ſagacious uſurer, Ti$0BALDs [H4] ner , . : | . ——— Greener oor ls "mn eos Op A ee — E ” — —— EE EE CS en ⅛ ö—Ä— — H— hes = — — uae — — — — — — — pa as — — 120 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &e. ner, that he fancied he intended to write his epitaph, if = he happened to out-live him; and fince he could not * know what might be ſaid cf him when he was dead, he deſired it might be done immediately; upon which Shak» 1 ſpeare gave him theſe four verſes: | 1 Ten in the hundred lies here ingrav' ds; . 1 Jig a hundred to ten his foul is not ſam d. A If any man aſe, Who lies in this tomb? Oh! bo! 'quoth the devil, tis my Fohn-a-Combe®, 8 Ten in the hundred lies bere ingrav'd;] In The more the merrier, rontaining three-ſcore and odd heedleſs epigrams, ſhot, (like the fooles bolts) among you, light where they will: By H. P. Gent, &c. 1608, J find the following couplet, which is almoſt the ſame as the two beginning lines of this Epitaph en Fobn a Combe: FEzNERATORIS EPITAPHIUM, ce Ten in the hundred lies under this ſtone, c And a hundred to ten to the devil he's gone.“ | | STEEVENS, So, in Camden's Remains, 1614: & Here lyes ten in the hundred, In the ground faſt ramm'd ; & ?Tis an hundred to ten & But his ſoule is damn'd.” MALONE. 9 Oh! ho! quoth the devil, tis my John-a-Combe.] The Rev, Francis Peck, in his Memoirs of the Life and Poetica! Works of Mr. obn Milton, 4to. 1740, p. 223, has introduced another epitaph imputed (on what authority is unknown) to Shakſpeare, It is on Tom- 2 a-Combe, alias Thin- beard, brother to this Jobn, who is mentioned ; by Mr, Rowe, | . | 66 Thin in beard, and thick in purſe ; «& Never man beloved worſe | «© He went to the grave with many a curſe: . ct The devil and he had both one nurſe.” STEEVENS. I ſuſpect that theſe lines were ſent to Mr, Peck by ſome perſon that meant to impoſe upon him. It appears from Mr, John Combe's will, that his brother Thomas was dead in 1614. John deviſed the greater part of his real and perſonal eſtate to his xephezv Thomas Combe, with whom Shakſpeare was certainly on good terms, having bequeathed him his ſword, | | Ig Since I wrote the above, I find from the Regiſter of Stratford, that Mr. Thomas Combe (the brother of John) was buried there, Jan. 22, Put ihpg-10, Marlon, .. N = * * — * a. 2 4 Pre 2 * 3 r * 8 PWW SA TT oe 8 . 2 Br, RE ave ea gt er SENT EE oil root To IP oa ee Ed Hoe 2 1 N ones de 1 . e 1 : . 2 23 i. « F N ce : N : | . 3 + 5 2 4 eget r * 2 W W 2 * = oy 3 7 &TY © 5 EZ - 3 "mp 2 f 2 3K 4 To * : 1 Xe * „ 28 RS 2 —— — OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEAKE, wt But the ſharpneſs of the ſatire is ſaid to have ſtung the man ſo ſeverely, that he never forgave it“. * f | 6 T — the ſharpneſs of the ſatire is ſaid to have flung the man ſo ſeverely, that he never forgave it.] I take this opportunity to avow my diſbelief that Shakipeare was the author of Mr. Combe's Epitaph, or that it was written by any other perſon at the requeſt of that gentleman, If Betterton the player did really viſit Warwickſhire for the ſake of col- lecting anecdotes relative to our author, perhaps he was too eaſily ſatis. fied with ſuch as fell in his way, without making any rigid ſearch into their authenticity. It appears alſo from a following copy of this in. ſcription, that it was not aſcribed to Shakſpeare ſo early as two years after his death. Mr. Reed of Staple-Inn obligingly pointed it out to me in the Remains, &c. of Richard Brathwaite, 1618; and as his edition of our epitaph varies in ſome meaſure from the latter one pub- liſhed by Mr. Rowe, I ſhall not heſitate to tranſcribe it : % Upon one Fobn Combe of Stratford upon Avon, a notable Uſurer, faſtened upon a Tombe that he had cauſed to be built in his Life- Time. « Ten in the hundred muſt lie in his grave, C But a hundred to ten whether God will him have: «© Who then mult be interr'd in this tombe ? C Oh (quoth the divill) my John a Combe.” | Here it may be obſerved that, ſtrictly ſpeaking, this is nojocular Epitaph, but a malevolent prediction; and Brathwaite's copy is ſurely more to be depended on (being procured in or before the year 1618) than that delivered to Betterton or Rowe, almoſt a century after- wards, It has been already remarked, that two of the lines ſaid to have been produced on this occaſion, were printed as an epigram in 1608, by H. P. Gent. and are likewiſe found in Camden's Remains, 1614. I may add, that a uſurer's ſolicitude to know what would be reported of him when he was dead, is nat a very probable circum- ſtance z neither was Shakſpeare of a diſpoſition to compoſe an invec- tive, at once ſo bitter and uncharitable, during a pleaſant conver ſation among tbe common friends of himſelf and a gentleman, with whoſe family he lived in ſuch friendſhip, thar at his death he bequeathed his ſword to Mr. Thomas Combe as a legacy. A miſer's monument in- deed, conſtructed during his life-time, might be regarded as a challenge to ſatire; and} we cannot wonder that anonymous lampoons ſhould have been affixed to the marble deſigned to convey the character of ſuch a being to poſterity.— l hope I may be excuſed for this attempt to vindicate Shakſpeare from the imputation of having poiſoned the hour of confidence and feſtivity, by producing the ſevereſt of all cenſures on one of his company. I am unwilling, in ſhort, to think he could ſo wantonly and ſo publickly have expreſſed his doubts concerning the ſal- vation of one of his fellow-creatures. STEEVENS. _ Since the above obſervations firſt appeared, (in a note to the edition of our authour's Poems which I publiſhed in 1780,) I have obtained Vor. 1 [ H 5 ] an 122 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. an additional proof of what has been advanced, in vindication of Shakſpeare on this ſubject. It occurred to me that the will of John Combe might poſſibly throw ſome light on this matter, and an examination of it ſome years ago furniſhed me with ſuch evidence as renders the ſtory recorded in Brathwaite's Remains very doubtful ; and ſtill more ſtrongly proves that, whoever was the authour of this epitaph, it is highly improbable that it ſhould have been written by Shakſpeares The very firſt direction given by Mr, Combe in his Will is, concern- ing a tomb to be erected to him after his death. My will is, that a convenient tomb of the value of threeſcore pounds ſhall by my exe- cutors hereafter named, out of my goods and chattels firſt rayſed, within one year after my deceaſe, be ſet over nie.“ So much for Brathwaite's account of his having erected his own tomb in his life time. That he had any quarrel with our authour, or that Shakſpeare had by any act fung him ſo ſeverely that Mr. Combe never forgave him, appears equally void of foundation; for by his will he bequeaths . to Mr. William Shaktpere Five Pounds.” It is probable that they lived in intimacy, and that Mr. Combe had made ſome purchaſe from our poet; for he deviſes to his brother George, „* the cloſe or grounds | known by the name of Parſon's Cloſe, alias, Shakſpere's Cloſe. It muſt be owned that Mr, Combe's will is dated Jan. 28, 1612-13, about eighteen months before his death; and therefore the evidence now pro- duced is not abſolutely deciſive, as he might have erected a tomb, and a rupture might have happened between him and Shakſpeare, after the making of this will: but it is very improbable that any ſuch rup- ture ſhould have taken place; for if the fuppoſed cauſe of offence had happened ſubſequently to the execution of the inſtrument, it is to be pre- ſumed that he would have revoked the legacy to Shakſpeare: and the oo argument may be urged with reſpect to the direction concerning His tomb. | h Mr. Combe by his will bequeaths to Mr. Francis Collins the elder, of the borough of Warwick, (who appears as a legatee and ſubſcribing witneſs to Shakſpeare's will, and therefore may be preſumed a common friend,) ten pounds; to his godſon John Collins, (the fon of Francis,) ten pounds; to Mrs. Suſanna Collins (probably godmother to our poet's eldett daughter) fix pounds, thirteen ſhillings, and four-pence; to Mr. Henry Walker, (father to Shakſpeare's godfon,) twenty ſhillings ;. to the poor of Stratford twenty pounds; and to his ſervants, in various legacies, one hundred and ten pounds. He was buried at Stratford, July 12, 1614, and his will was proved, Nov. 10, 1615. Our author, at the time of making bis will, had it not in his power to ſhew any teſtimony of his regard for Mr. Combe, that gentleman being then dead; but that he continued a friendly correſpondence with his family to the laſt, appears evidently (as Mr, Steevens has obſerved} from his leaving his ſword to Mr. Thomas Combe, the nephew, reſiduary legatee, and one of the executors of ſohn. . On the whole we may conclude, that the lines preſerved by Rowe, and inſerted with ſome variation in Brathwaite's Remains, which the latter has mentioned to have been affixed to Mr, Combe's tomb in his life-time, were not written till after Shakſpeare's death; for the exe- a 8 cCutors, ; fy W 2 . 1 f ! 1 * EY 15 : 5 * OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 123 He died in the 53d year of his age“, and was buried on the north ſide of the chancel, in the great church at . Stratford, cutors, who did not prove the will till Nov. 1615, could not well have erected a fair monument” of conſiderable exoence for thoſe times, till the middle or perhaps the end of the year 1616, in the April of which year our poet died. Between that time and the year 1618, when Braithwaite's book appeared, ſome one of thoſe perſons (we may | preſume) who had ſuffered by Mr. Combe's ſeverity, gave vent to his feelings in the ſatirical compoſition preſerved by Rove ; part of which, we have ſeen, was borrowed from epitaphs that had already been printed. That Mr. Combe was a money-lerder, may be inferred from a clauſe in his will, in which he mentions his good and juſt debtors;“ to every one of whom he remits © twenty ſhillings for every twenty pounds, and ſo after this rate for a greater or leſſer debt, on their paying in to his executors what they owe. 8 Mr. Combe married Mrs. Roſe Clopton, Auguſt 27, 1560; and therefore was probably, when he died, eighty years old. His property, from the deſcription of it, appears to have been conſiderable, In juſtice to this gentleman it ſhould be remembered, that in the language of Shakſpeare's age an uſurer did not mean one who took ex- orbitant, but any, intereſt or uſance for money; which many then conſidered as criminal. The opprobrious term by which ſuch a perſon was diſtinguiſhed, Ten in the hundred, proves this; for ten per cent. was the ordinary intereſt of money. See Shakſpeare's will.—Sir Philip Sidney directs by his will, made in 1586, that Sir Francis Wal- fingham ſhall put four thouſand pounds which the teſtator bequeathed to his daughter, ** to the beſt behoofe either by purchaſe of land or leaſe, or ſome other good and godly uſe, but in no caſe to let it out for any 1 ſury at all.” MALON E. 2 He died in the 53d year of bis age,] He died on his birth-day, April 23, 1616, and had exactly completed his fifty-ſecond year. From Du Cange's Perpetual Almanack, Gloſs. in v. Annas, (making allowance for the different ſtyle which then prevailed in England from that on which Du Cange's calculation was formed,) it appears, that the 23d of April in that year was a Tueſday, | No account has been tranſmitted to us of the malady which at fo early a period of life deprived England of its brighteſt ornament, The private note-book of his ſon-in-law Dr. Hall, containing a ſhort ſtate of the caſes of his patients, was a few years ago put into my hands by my friend, the late Dr. Wright; and as Dr. Hall married our poet's daughter in the year 1607, and undoubtedly attended Shak- ſpeare in his laſt illneſs, being then forty years old, I had hopes this book might have enabled me to gratify the publick curioſity on this ſubject. But unluckily the earlieſt caſe recorded by Hall, is dated in 1617. He had probably filled ſome other book with memorandums of his practice in preceeding years; which by ſome contingency may hercafter be found, and inform poſterity of the particular circum- ſtances | S. — 5 Pape ww; nor — — — _ I * > * 0 —— 3 2 421 — — — 6— * 124 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. Stratford, where a monument, is placed in the wall, On his grave-ſtone underneath is“, Go friend, for Feſus' ſake forbear To dig the duſt incloſed here. Bleft be the an that ſpares theſe flones, And curſt be he that moves my bones 5. | He ſtances that attended the death of our great poet. From the 34th page of this book, which contains an account of a diſorder under which his daughter Elizabeth laboured, (about the year 1624,) and of the me- thod of cure, it appears, that ſhe was his only daughter; [ Elizabeth Hall, filia mea unica, tortura oris defædata.] In the beginning of April in that year ſhe viſited London, and returned to Stratford on the 22d; an enterpriſe at that time * of great pith and moment.” While we lament that our incomparable poet was ſnatched from the world at a time when his faculties were in their full vigour, and before he was “ declined into the vale of years,” let us be thankful that « this ſweeteſt child of Fancy“ did not periſh while he yet lay in the cradle. He was born at Straiford-upon-Avon in April 1564 and J have this moment learned from the Regiſter of that town that the plague broke cut there on the 3oth of the following June, and Taged with ſuch violence between that day and the laft day of Decem- ber, that two hundred and thirty eight perſons were in that pericd carried to the grave, of which number probably 216 died of that ma- Iignant uiſtemper; and one only of the whole number reſ:ded, not in Stratford, but in the neighbouring town of Welcombe. From the 237 inhabitants of Stratford, whole names appear in the Regiſter, twenty-one are to be ſubducted, who, it may be preſumed, would have died in ſix months, in the ordinary courſe of nature; for in the five preceding years, reckoning, according to the ſtyle of that time, from March 25, 1559, to March 25, 1564, two hundred and twenty one | perſons were buried at Stratford, of whom 210 were townſmen : that is, of theſe latter 42 died each year, at an average. Suppoſing one in thirty-five to have died annually, the total number of the inhabitants of Stratford at that period was 1470, and conſequently the plagu: in the laſt fix months of the year 1564 carried off more then a ſeventh part of them. Fortunately for mankind it did n«t reach the houſe in which the infant Shakſpeare lay; for not one cf that name appears in the dead liſt.— May we ſuppoſe, that, like Hr. ce, he lay iecure and fearleſs in the midſt of contagion and death, protected by the Muſes to whom his future life was to be devoted, and covered over ſacra Lauroque, collataque myrto, - | Non fine Diis animoſus infans. Maroxe. s — There a monument is placed in the wal!.] Pe is repreſented under an arch, in a fittin; poſture, a cuſhion ſpread before him, with | a pen OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 125 a pen in his right-hand, and his left reſted on a ſcroll of paper. The following Latin diſtich is engraved under the cuſhion, Fudi.io Pylium, genio Socratem, arte Maronem, Terra tegit, popuius meret, Olympus babet. THEOBAL De The firſt ſyllable in Socratem is here made ſhort, which cannot be allowed. Perhaps we ſhould read Sophoclem. Shakſpeare is then ap- poſitely compared with a dramatick author among the ancients: but ſtill it ſhould be remembered that the elogium is leſſened while the metre is reformed; and it is well known that ſome of our early wri- ters of Latin poetry were uncommonly negligent in their proſody, eſpecially in proper names. The thought of this diſtich, as Mr. Tollet obſerves, might have been taken from the Fae:y Queene of Spenſer, b. ii. c. 9. ſt. 48, and c. 10 ft, 3. To this Latin inſcription on Shakſpeare ſhould be added the lines which are found underneath it on his monument: Stay, paſlenger, why doſt thou go fo faſt? Read, if thou canit, whom envious death hath plac'd Within this monument; Shakſpeare, with whom Quick nature dy'd ; whoſe name doth deck the tomb Far mo: e than coſt; fince all that he hath wric Leaves living art but page to ſerve his wit. Obiit Ano. Dni. 1616. æc. 53, die 23 Apri. SrEEVENS. It appears from the Verſes of Leonard Digges that our authour's monument was erected before the year 1623. It has been engraved dy Vertue, and done in Mezzotinto by Miber. | A writer in The Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XXIX. p. 267, ſays, there is as ſtrong a reſemblance between the buſt at Stratford, and the portrait of our authour prefixed to the firſt folio edition of his plays, « as can well be between a ſtatue and a picture.“ To me (and I have viewed it ſeveral times with a good deabof attention) it appeared in a very different light. When 1 went laſt to Stratford, I carried with me the only genuine prints of Shakſpeare that were then extant, and I could not trace any reſemblance between them and this figure. There is a pertneſs in the countenance of the latter totally differing from that placid compoſure and thoughtful gravity, ſo perceptible in his original portrait and his beſt prints. Our poet's monument having been erected by his ſon-in-law Dr. Hall, the ſtatuary probably had the afſiſ:ance of ſome picture, and failed only from want of ſkill to copy it. Mr. Granger obſerves, (Bizg. Hiſt. Vol. I. p. 259,) that ( it has been ſaid there never was an original portrait of Shakſpeare, but that Sir Thomas Clarges after his death cauſed a portrait to be drawn for him from a perſon who nearly reſembled him.“ This entertaining writer was a great colletor of anecdotes, but not always very ſcrupu. lous in inquiring into the authenticity of the information which he procured ; for this improbable tale, I find, on examination, ſtands | only — — — — — — 2 — ta bs ae i Ry; EE — 1 * n L — — — wars * w Tour terton made no will, and died very indigent. He had a large collection 126 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. only on the aſſertion of an anonymous writer in the Gentleman's Ma- arg er for Auguſt 1759, who boldly “ affirmed it as an abſolute fact;“ ut being afterwards publickly called upon to produce his authority, never produced any. There is the ſtrongeſt reaſon therefore to pre- ſume it a forgery. 1 | „% Mr, Walpole” (adds Mr, Granger) © informs me, that the only Original picture of Shakſpeare is that which belonged to Mr. Keck, from whom it paſſed to Mr. Nicoll, whoſe only daughter married the Marquis of Caernarvon” [now duke of Chandos], From this picture, his Grace, at my requeſt, very obligingly per- mitted a drawing to be made by that excellent artiſt Mr. Ozias Hum- phry; and from that drawing the print prefixed to the preſent edition has been engraved. | In the manuſcript notes of the late Mr. Oldys, this portrait is ſaid to have been „painted by old Cornelius Janſen.” * Others,” he adds, « ſay, that it was done by Richard Burbage the player;” and in another place he aſcribes it to John Taylor, the player.“ This Tay- lor, it is ſaid in the Critical Review for 1770, left it by vill to Sir William D*Avenant. But unluckily there was no player of the chriſtian and ſurname of John Taylor, contemporary with Shakſpeare, The player who performed in Shakſpeare's company, was Joſeph Taylor. There was however a painter of the name of Fobn Taylor, to whom in his early youth it is barely poſſible that we may have been indebted for the only original portrait of our authour; for in the Picture-Gal- lery at Oxford are two portraits of Taylor the Water-poet, and on each of them © John Taylor pinx. 1655.” There appears ſome reſem- blance of manner between theſe portraits and the picture of Shakſpeare in the duke of Chandos's collection. That picture (I expreſs the opinion of Sir Joſhua Reynolds) has not the leaſt air of Cornelius Janſen's performances. | That this picture was once in the poſſeſſion of Sir Wm. D*Avenant 3s highly probable; but it is much more likely to have been purchaſed by him from ſome of the players after the theatres were ſhut up by authority, and the veterans of the ſtage were reduced to great diſtreſs, than to have-been bequeathed to him by the perſon who painted it; in whoſe cuſtody.it is improbable that it ſhould have remained. Sir William D* Avenant appears to have died inſolvent, There is no Will. of his in the Prerogative-Office;z but adminiſtration of his effects was granted to John Otway, his principal creditor, in May 1668. After his death, Betterton the actor bought it, probably at a publick fale of his effects. While it was in Betterton's poſſeſſion, it was engraved by Vandergucht, for Mr. Rowe's edition of Shakſpeare, in 1709. Bet- of portraits of actors in crayons, which were bought at the ſale of his goods by Bullfinch the Printſeller, who ſold them to one Mr, Sykes. The portrait of Shakſpeare was purchaſed by Mrs. Barry the actreſs, who ſold it afterwards for 40 guineas to Mr, Robert Keck. In 1719, While it was in Mr, Keck's poſſeſſion, an engraving was * | ; rom OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 127 from it by Vertue: a large half-ſheet. Mr. Nicoll of Colney-Hatch, Middleſex, marrying the heireſs of the Keck family, this picture de- volved to him; and while in his poſſeſſion, it was, in 1747, engraved by Houbraken for Birch's Lluſtrious Heads, By the marriage of the duke of Chandos with the daughter of Mr. Nicoll, it became his Grace's property. | Sir Godfrey Kneller painted a picture of our authour, which he preſented to Dryden, but from what picture he copied, I am unable to aſcertain, as I have never ſeen Kneller's picture. The poet re- payed him by an elegant copy of Verſes.—See his Poems, Vol, II. p- 231, edit. 1743: | | c Shakſpeare, thy gift, I place before my ſight, « With awe I aſk his bleſſing as I write ; „ With reverence look on his majeftick face, ce Proud to be leſs, but of his godlike race. « His ſoul inſpires me, while thy praiſe I write, 4 And J like Teucer under Ajax fight: | c Bids thee, throagh me, be bold; with dauntlefs breaſt C Contemn the bad, and emulate the beſt : Da, « Like his, thy criticks in the attempt are loſt, «© When moſt they rail, know then, they envy moſt." It appears from a circumſtance mentioned by Dryden, that theſe verſes were written after the year 1683: probably after Rymer's book had appeared in 1693. Dryden having made no will, and his wife Lady Elizabeth renouncing, adminiſtration was granted on the roth of june 1700, to his fon Charles, who was drowned in the Thames near Windſor in 1704, His younger brother Eraſmus ſucceeded to the title of Baronet, and died without iſſue in 1711; but I know not what became of his effects, or where this picture is now to be found. About the year 1725 a mezzotinto of Shakſpeare was ſcraped by Simon, ſaid to be done from an original picture painted by Zouſt or Soeſt, then in the poſſeſſion of T. Wright, painter, in Covent-Garden. The earlieſt known picture painted by Zouſt in England, was done in 1657; ſo that if he ever painted a picture of Shakſpeare, it muſt have been a-copy. It could not however have been made from D*Avenant's picture, (unleſs the painter took very great liberties) for the whole air, dreſs, diſpoſition of the hair, &c. are different, I have lately ſeen a picture in the poſſeſſion of — Douglas, Eſq. at Teddington near Twickenham, which is, I believe, the very picture from which Simon's Mezzotinto was made. It is on canvas, (about 24 inches by 20,) and ſomewhat ſmaller than the life. Tne earlieſt print of our poet that appeared, is that in the title. page of the firſt folio edition of his works, 1623, engraved by Martin Droeſhout, On this print the following lines, addreſſed To TRE READER, were written by Ben Jonſon : „ This figure that thou here ſeeſt put, « It was for gentle Shakſpeare cut; «K Whereia 123 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. « Wherein the graver had a ſtrife 1 6 With nature, to out- do the life, 3 46 O, could he but have drawn his wit cc As well in braſs, as he hath hit His face, the print would then ſurpaſs cc All that was ever writ in braſs; * « But fince he cannot, reader, look | c Not on his picture, but his book.“ - Droeſhout engraved alſo the heads of John Fox the martyrologiſt, Montjoy Blount, ſon of Charles Blount Earl of Devonſhire, William Fairfax who fell at the ſiege of Frankendale in 1623, and John How- ſon, Biſhop of Durham. The portrait of Biſhop Howſon is at Chriſt- church, Oxford. By comparing any of theſe prints (the two latter of which are well executed) with the original pictures from whence the engravings were made, a better judgment might be formed of the 8 fidelity of our authour's portrait, as exhibited by: this engraver, than from Jonſon's aſſertion, that ** in this figure c — the graver had a ftrife « With nature, to out do the life;“ r be = 2 r „ 22 0 a OE TI 9 08 A a compliment which in the books of that age was paid to ſo many en- gravers, that nothing decifive can be inferred from it.—It does not appear from what picture this engraving was made: but from the dreſs, and the fipgular diſpoſition of the hair, &c. it undoubtedly was engraved from a picture, and probably a very ordinary one. There is no other way of accounting for the great difterence between this print of Droeſhout's, and his ſpirited portraits of Fairfax and Biſhop Howſon, but by ſuppoſing that the picture of Shakſpeare from which he copied was a very coarſe performance. The next print in point of time is, according to Mr. Walpole, and Mr. Granger, that executed by J. Payne, a ſcholar of Simon Paſs, in 0 | 1634; with a laurel branch in the poet's left-hand. A print of Shak- | ith ſpeare by fo excellent an engraver as Payne, would probably exhibit a ü more perfect repreſentation of him than any other of thoſe times; Li N but I much doubt whether any ſuch ever exiſted. Mr. Granger, I l | apprehend, has erroneouſly attributed to Payne the head done by Mar- | ſhall in 1640, (apparently from Droeſhout's larger print,) which is i prefixed to a ſpurious edition of Shakſpeare's Poems publiſhed in that 4979 year, In Marſhall's print the poet bas @ laurel branch in bis left band. , Neither Mr. Walpole, nor any of the other great colleCtors of prints, are 5 poſſeſſed of, or ever ſaw, any print of Shakſpeare by Payne, as far as I 5 can learn. Two other prints only remain to be mentioned; one engraved by : | j | Vertue in 1721, for Mr. Pope's edition of our authour's plays in quarto ; ſaid to be engraved from an original picture in the poſſeſſion | of the ear] of Oxford; and another, a mezzotinto, by Earlom, pre- f = fixed to an edition of King Lear, in 1770; ſaid to be done from an 110 original by Cornelius Janſen, in the collection of Charles Jennens, Eſqʒ OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 129 8 Eq; but, Mr. Granger juſtly obſerves, „ as it is dated in 1610, before : | ham was in England, it is highly probable that it was not painted by im, at leaſt, that he did not paint it as a portrait of Shakſpeare.“ Moſt of the other prints of Shakſpeare that have appeared, were copied from ſome or other of thoſe which I have mentioned. MALONE. 4 c The portrait palmed upon Mr. Pope“ (I uſe the words of the late Mr. Oldys, in a Mf. note to his copy of Langbaine,) « for an original of Shakſpeare, from which he had his fine plate engraven, is evidently a juvenile portrait of KingJames I.” I am no judge in theſe matters, but only deliver an opinion, which if ilt-groundeu may be eaſily over- thrown, The portrait to me at leaſt, has no traits of Shakſpeate. 2 | Sry. 4 On his grave- ſtone underneath is; Good friend, &c ] This epitaph 10 expreſſed in the following uncouth mixture of ſmall and capital etters: | Y | Good Frend for Ieſus SAKE forbeare = To dice "FR, Duſt EncloAfed HERe X Bleſe be PE Man T ſpares Es Stones = - And curſt be He 7 moves my Bones. STEE VERS. | 5 And curſt be he that moves my bones. ] It is uncertain whether this epitaph was written by Shakſpeare himſelf, or by one of his friends after his death. The imprecation contained in this laſt line, was perhaps ſuggeſted by an apprehenſion that our authour's remains might thare the fanie fate with thoſe of the reſt of his countrymen, and be added to the immenſe pile of human bones depoſited in the charnel- houſs at Stratford. This, however, is mere conjecture ; for ſimilar execrations are found in many ancient Latin epitaphs. Mr. Steevens has juſtly mentioned it as a fingular circumſtance, that Shakſpeare does not appear to have written any verſes on his con- temporaries, either in praiſe of the living, or in honour of the dead. I once imagined that he hid mentioned Spenſer with kindneſs in one of his Sonnets; but have lately diſcovered that the ſonnet to which I allude, was written by Richard Barnefield. If, however, the follow- ing epitaphs be genuine, (and indeed the latter is much in Shakſpeare's manner,) he in two inſtances overcame that modeſt diffidence, which ſeems to have ſuppoſed the elogium of his humble muſe of no value. In a Manuſcript volume of poems by William Herrick and others, in the hand-writing of the time of Charles I. which is among Raw- linſon's Collections in the Bodleian Library, is the following epitaph, aſcribed to our poet. | | | «AN EPITAPH, c When God was pleas'd, the world unwilling yet, « Elias James to nature payd his debt, & And here repoſeth; as he liv'd, he dyde; 4 The ſaying in him ſtrongly verefide,. _ « Such life, ſuch death: then, the known truth to tell, « He liv'd a godly life, and dyde as well, 5 | WM, SHAKESPEARE.” | Vol. I, LEN There | ½yrͤ ot 1d} 1 OF" OR ST I %FFFF T0 3 — —— —_— Sh — - EG de. MAE. CS Wr - 7 - —— .. 2 — wo 9 o_ - T——— —— — — — — — — 30 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, xc. There was formerly a family of the ſurname of James at Stratford. Anne, the wife of Richard James, was buried there on the ſame day with our poet's widow ;z and Margaret, the daughter. of Fobn James, died there in April 1616. 1 5 A monumental inſcription “of a better leer, and ſaid to be written by our authour, is preſerved in a collection of Epitaphs, at the end of the Viſitation of Salop, taken by Sir William Dugdale in the year 1664, now remaining in the College of Arms, C. 35, fol. 20; a tranſcript of which Sir Iſaac Heard, Garter, Principal King at Arms, has obligingly tranſmitted to me. : Among the monuments in Tongue Church in the county of Salop, is one erected in remembrance of Sir Thomas Stanley, knight, who died, as I imagine, about the year 1600. In the Viſitation- book it. is. thus deſcribed by Six William Dugdale :: 1 «© On the north fide of the chancell ſtands a very ſtately tombe, ſup- ported with Corinthian columnes. It hath two figures of men in ar- mour, thereon lying, the one below the arches and columnes, and the other above them, and this epitaph upon it. | «© Thomas Stanley, Knight, ſecond ſon of Edward Earle of Derby, Lord Stanley and Strange, deſcended from the famielie of the Stanleys, married Margaret Vernon, one of the daughters and co-heires of Sir George Vernon of Nether-Haddon, in the county of Derby, Knight, by whome he had iflue two ſons, Henry and Edward. Henry died an infant; Edward ſurvived, to whom thoſe lordſhips deſcended ; and married the lady Lucis Percie, ſecond daughter of the Earle of Nor- thumberland: by her he had iſſue ſeaven daughters. She and her foure- daughters, Arabella, Marie, Alice, and Priſcilla, are interred under a monument in the church of Waltham in the county of Efſex. Thomas, her ſon, died in his infancy, and is buried in the parith church of Winwich in the county of Lancaſter. The other three, Petronilla, Frances, and Veneſia, are yet living. Theſe following verſes were made by WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR®y | | the late famous tragedian. % Written upon the eaſt end of this tombe. & Aſke who lyes here, but do not weepe; 6 He is not dead, he doth but ſleepe. 4 This ſtony regiſter is for his bones, 5 « His fame is more perpetual than theſe ſtones: &« And his own goodneſs, with himfelf being gone, & Shall live, when earthly monument is none. „ Written upon the weſt end thereof. e Not monumental ſtane preſerves our fame, « Nor ſſcye-aſpiring pyramids our name. 6 The memory of him for whom this ſtands, & Shall out-live marble, and defacers* hands. « When all fo time's conſumption ſhall be given, . -. „ Stanley, for whom this ſtands, ſhall ftand in heaven.“ . — — — Z )?¹ſ — * VVV r T N c wal Ie CEF e RE <9 . L* . 2 2 * * 9 8 7 "2 * ; 8 — o D I n Ra 598 * vs . 8 <> 8 INE Ws. 2 x . ; 0 / Cf WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 131 He had three daughters“, of which two lived to be mar- ried; Judith, the elder, to one Mr. Thomas Quiney “, 1 165 was The laſt line of this epitaph, though the worſt, bears very ſtrong marks of the hand of Shakſpeare. The beginning of the firſt line; « Aſk who lyes here, reminds us of that which we have been juſt examining : * IF any man aſk, who lies in this tomb, &c.—Sir Wil- liam Dugdale was bora in Warwickſhire, was bred at the free-ſchool of Coventry, and in the year 1625 purchaſed the-manor of Blythe in that county, where he then ſettled and afterwards ſpent a great part of his life: ſo that his teſtimony reſpecting this epitaph is ſufficient to aſcertain its anthenticity. MArLoNnEe. 5 3 He bad three daugbters, ] In this eircumſtance Mr. Rowe muſt have been miſinformed. In the Regiſter of Stratford, no mention is made of any daughter of our authour's but Suſanna and judith. He had indeed three children; the two already mentioned, and a ſon, named Hamnet; of whom Mr. Rowe takes no notice. He was a twin child, born at the ſame time with Judith. Hence probably the miſ- take. He died in the twelfth year of his age, in 1596. MaLone, 4 — Judith, the elder, te one Mr. Thomas Quiney, ] This alſo is a miſtake. Judith was Shakſpeare's youngeſt daughter. She died at Stratford-upon-Avon a few days after ſhe had completed her ſeventy- ſeventh year, and was buried there, Feb. 9, 1661-62. She was mar- ried to Mr. Quiney, who was four years younger than herſelf, on the joih of February, 1615-16, and not as Mr. Weſt ſuppoſed, in the | year 1616-17, He was led into the miſtake by the figures 1616 ſtanding nearly oppoſite to the entry concerning her marriage; but thoſe figures relate to the firſt entry in the ſubſequent month of April. The Regiſter appears thus: February, —— e = 3. Francis Buſhill to Iſabel Whood. 1618. 3* Rich. Sandells to Joan Ballamy. 10. Tho. Queeny to Judith Shakſpere. Aprill.,—— * 14. Will. Borowes to Margaret Davies: and all the following entries in that and a part of the enſuing page are of 1616; the year then beginning on the 25th of March, Whe- ther the above 10 relates to the month of February or April, Judith was certainly married before her father's death: if it relates ta February, ſhe was married on February jo, 1615-16; if to April, on the toth of April 1616. From Shakſpeare's will it appears, that this match was a ſtolen one; for he ſpeaks of ſuch future ©* huſband as ſhe ſpall be martied to.“ It is ftrange that the ceremony ſhould have been publickly celebrated in the church of Stratford without his knowledge; and the improbability of ſuch à circumſtance might lead us to ſuppoſe that ſhe was married on the 10th of April, about a fort- night after the execution of her father's will, But the entry of the | 1 baptiſm 5 25 132 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. | by whom ſhe had three ſons, who all died without chil- dren; and Suſanna, who was. his favourite, to- Dr. John Hall, a phyſician of good reputation in that country 5. She left one child only, a daughter, who | 8 | | wag | baptiſm of her firſt child, (Nov. 23, 1616, ] as well as the entry of the marriage, aſcertain it to have taken place in February. | Mr. Weſt, without intending it, has impeached the character ot this lady; for her firſt child, according to his reprefentation, muſt be ſuppoſed to have been born ſome months before her marriage ; fince among the Baptifms I find this entry of the chriſtening of her eldeſt ſon: 1616. Nov. 23. Shakſpere, filius Thomes Quiney, Gent.“ and according to Mr. Weſt ſhe was not married till the fol- lowing February. This Shakſpeare Quiney died in his infancy at Stratford, and was buried May Sth, 1617. Judith's ſecond ſon, Richard, was baptized on February gth, 1617-18. He died at Strat ford in Feb. 1638-9, in the 21ſt year of his age, and was buried there on the 26th of that month, Her third ſon, Thomas, was baptized Auguſt 29, 1619, and was buried alſo at Stratford, January 28, 1638-9. There had been a plague in the town in the preceding ſummer, that carried off about fifty perſons. M ALONE. 5 Dr. John Hall, a phyſician of good reputation in that country. J Suſanna's huſband, Dr. John Hall, died in Nov. 1635, and is in- terred in the chancel of the church of Stratford near his wife. He was buried on the 26th-of November, as appears from the Regiſter of durials at Stratford: | | 4 November 26, 1635, Johannes Hall, medicus peritiflimus.” The following is a tranſcript of his will, extracted from the Regi- try of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury: | “ The laſt Will and Teſtament nuncupative of John Hall of Strat- ford-upon-Avon in the county of Warwick, Gent. made and declared the five and twentieth of November, 163 5. Imprimir, I give unto my wife my houſe in London. Item, I give unto my davghter Nath my houſe in Acton. Iten, I give unto my daughter Naſh. my mea- dow. Item, I give my goods and money unto my wife and my daughter Naſh, to be equally divided betwixt them. Jen, concern- ing my ſtudy of books, I leave them, ſaid he, to you, my ſon Naſh, to diſpoſe of them as you ſee good. As for my manuſcripts, I would: have given them to Mr. Boles, if he had been here; but foraſmuch as he is not here preſent, you may, ſon Naſh, burn them, or do with them what you pleaſe, Witneſles hereunto, , | . Thomas Naſh. | e 6 N Simon Trapp.“ The teſtator not having appointed any executor, adminiftration was- granted to his widow, Nov. 23, 1636. Some at leaſt of Dr. Hall's manuſcripts: eſcaped the flames, one of them being yet extant, See p. 123, n. 2. | = | Lcoults «WP OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 13; 1 could not, after a very careful ſearch, find the will of Suſanna Hall in the Prerogative-office, nor is it preſerved in the Archives of the dioceſe of Worceſter, the Regiſtrar of which dioceſe at my re- | queſt very obligingly examined the indexes of all the wills proved in His office between the years 1649 and 1670; hut in vain, The town of Stratford-upon- Avon is in that dioceſe, The inſcriptions on the tomb-ſtones of our poet's favourite daughter and her huſband are as follows: cc Here lyeth the body of John Hall, Gent. he marr. Suſanna, y daughter and co-heire of Vill. Shakſpeare, Gent. he deceafed Nov. 25, A®. 1635, aged bo.” 5 % Hallius hic ſitus eſt, medica celeberrimus arte, Expectans regni gaudia læta Dei. “ Dignus erat meritis qui Neſtora vinceret annis 5 c« In terris omnes ſed rapit equa dies. | < Ne tumulo quid deſit, adeſt fidiſſima conjux, Et vitæ comitem nunc quoque mortis habet.“ Theſe verſes ſhould ſeem, from the laſt two lines, not to have been inſcribed on Dr. Hall's tomb-ſtone till 2649. Perhaps indeed the laſt diſtich only was then added. ce Here lyeth the body of Suſanna, wiſe to John Hall, Gent. ye 3 of William Shakſpeare, Gent. She deceaſed the 11th af July, A 9. 1649, aged 66. c Witty above her ſexe, but that's not all, «« Wiſe to ſalvation was good Miſtriſs Hall. * Something of Shakſpeare was in that, but this 6 Wholy of him with whom ſhe's now in bliſſe. c Then, paſſenger, haſt ne're a teare, « To weepe with her that wept with all: That wept, yet ſet her ſelfe to chere Them up with comforts cordiall, ce Her love ſhall live, her mercy ſpread, cc When thou haſt ne're a teare to ſhed,” The foregoing Engliſh verſes, which are preſerved by Dugdale, are not now remaining, half of the tomb-ſtone having been cut away, and another half ſtone joined to it; with the following inſcription on it. 4% Here lyeth the body of Richard Watts of Ryhon-Clifford, in the pariſh. of old Stratford, Gent. who departed this life the 23d of May, Anno Dom. 1707, and in the 46th year of his age.” This Mr. Watts, as I am informed by tne Rev. Mr. Davenport, was owner of, and lived at. the eſtate of Ryhon-Clifford, which was once the property of Dr. Hall. Mrs. Hall was buried on the 16th of July, 1649, as n from the rie of Stratford, MATLONE. J [13] was to have been a favourite, Shakeſpeare having left her by his will a : meſſuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, ſituate in the Chapel- ments, profits, commons, commodities, and hereditaments, to the ſame 134 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. was married firſt to 'Thomas Naſhe © , eſq. and after- wards 6 Sbe left one e cbild only, a 2 LN was married firſt to Tho- mas Naſpe, Eſg.] Elizabeth, our poet's grand-daughter, who appears memorial of his affection, though ſhe at that time was but eight years old, was born in February 1607-8, as appears by an entry in the Regiſter of Stratford, which Mr. Weſt omitted in the tranſcript with which he furniſhed Mr. Steevens. ' I learn from the ſame regiſter that the was married in 1626: © MAR RTA CES. April 22, 1626, Mr. Tho- mas Naſh to Miftriſs Elizabeth Hall.” It ſhould be remembered that every unmarried lady was called Miſtreſs till the time of George I. Hence our authour's Mrftreſs Anne Page. Nor in ſpeaking of an un- married lady could her chriſtian name be omitted, as it often is at pre- ſent; for then no diſtinction would have remained between her and her mother. Some married ladies indeed were diſtinguiſhed from their daughters by the title of Madam. Mr. Naſh died in 1647, as appears by the 1 on his tomb- Kone in the chancel of the church of Stratford, « Here reſteth ye body of Thomas Naſhe, Eſq. He mar. Elizabeth the daugh. and heire of John Hall, Gent. He died 5 ath, Ab. 1647, aged 53. 484 Fata manent omnes; hunc non virtute carentemy cc Ut neque divitiis, abſtulir atra dies, 5. Abſtulit, at referet lux ultima. Siſte, viator; 7 $1 peritura paras, per male parta peris.“ The lethirs printed in Italicks are now obliterated. By his laſt will, which is in the Prerogative-office, dated Auguſt 25, 1642, he bequeathed to his well beloved wife, Elizabeth Nath, and her aſſigns, for her life, (in lieu of jointure and thirds,) one Street in Stratford, then in the tenure and occupation of Joan Nor- man, widow; one meadow, known by the name of the Square Mea- dow, with the appurtenances, in -the pariſh -of old Stratford, lying near unto the great ſtone=bridge of Stratford; one other meadow with the appurtenances, known by the name of the Waſh Meadow; one little meadow with the appurtenances, adjoining to the ſaid Waſh Meadow; and alſo all the tythes of the manor or lordihip of Shottery. 'He deviſes to his kinſman Edward Naſh, the ſon of his uncle George Naſh of London, his heirs and aſſigns, (inter alia) the meſſuage or tenement, then in his own occupation, called The Nezw-Place, ſituate in the Chapel-Street, in Stratford; together. with all and fingular Houſes, outhouſes, barns, ſtables, orchards, gardens, eaſements, pro- fits, or commodities, to the ſame belonging; and alſo four-yard land of arable land, meadow, and paſture, with the appurtenances, lying and being in the common fields of Old Stratford, with all the eaſe- 228 lands belonging; then in the tenure, uſe, and occupation of WW | "mr * "04 „ 5% * 2 1 3 9 > - „ I 1 Pts K 9 * * 1 [oP "7; 3k <2 A 85 85 { F n OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 135 wards to Sir John Bernard of Abington 7, but died likewiſe without iſſue *, - This of him the ſaid Thomas N aſh; and one other meſſuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, ſituate in the pariſh of ——, in London, and called or known by the name of the Wardrobe, and then in the tenure, uſe and occupation of Dickes. And from and after the death of his ſaid wife, he bequeaths the meadows above named, and deviſed ta her for life, to his ſaid couſin, Edward Naſh, his heirs and aſſigns for ever. After various other bequeſts, he directs that one hundred pounds, at the leaſt, be laid out in mourning gowns, cloaks, and ap- parel, to be diſtributes among his kindred and friends, in ſuch manner as his executtix ſhall think fit. He appoints his wife Elizabeth Naſh his reſiduary legatee, and ſole executrix, and ordains Edmund Raw. tins, William Smith, and John Eafton, overſeers of his will, to which the witneſſes are John Such, Michael Johnſon, .and Samuel Rawlins, By a nuncupative codicil dated on the day of his death, April 4th, 4647, he bequeaths (inter alia) © to his mother Mrs. Hall fifty pounds ; to Elizabeth Hathaway fifty pounds; to Thomas Hathaway fifty pounds; to Judith Hathaway ten pounds; to his uncle Naſh and his aunt, his coufin Sadler and his wife, his coufin Richard Quiney and his wife, his coufin Thomas Quiney and his wife, twenty ſhillings each, to buy them rings.“ The meadows which by his will he had deviſed to his wife for life, the by this .codicil deviſes to her, her heirs and aſſigns, for ever, to the end that they may not be ſevered from her own land; and he ““ appoints and declares that the inheritance of his land given to his couſin Edward Nath ſhould be by him ſettled after his deceaſe, upon his ſon Thomas Naſh, and his heirs, and for want of ſuch heirs then to remain and deſcend to his own right heirs.” It is obſervable that in this will ,the teſtator makes no mention of any child, and there is no entry of any iſſue of his marriage in the Regiſter of Stratford; I have no doubt therefore that he died without iſſue, and that a pedigree with which Mr. Whalley furniſhed Mr. Steevens a few years ago, is inaccurate, The origin of the miſtake in that pedigree will be pointed out in its proper place, As by Shakſpeare's will his daughter Suſanna had an eſtate for life in the New Place, &c. and his grand- daughter Elizabeth an eſlate ta:l in remainder they probably on the marriage of Elizabeth to Mr. Naſh, by a fine and recovery cut off the entail ; and by a deed to bead the uſes gave him the entire dominion over that eſtate ; which.he appears to have miſuſ:d by deviſing it from Shakſpeare's family to his own. Mr, Naſh's will and codicil were proved June 5, 2647, and admis nitration was then granted to his widow. , MALONE. 7 — Sir Jobn Barnara of Abington,] Sir John Barnard of Abington, a ſmall village about a mile from the town of Northampton, was created a knight by King Charles II. Nov. 25, 1661. In 1671 he ſold the manor and advowſon of the church of Abingt6n, which his ande kor had poſſeſſed for more than two hundred years, to Williatri 136 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c, Thurſby, Eſq. Sir [John Barnard was the eldeſt ſon of Baldwin Bar- nard, el . by Eleanor, daughter and co-heir of John Fulwood of Ford- Hall in the county of Warwick, eſq. and'was born in 1605, He firſt married Elizabeth, the daughter of Sir Clement Edmonds of Preſton, in Northamptonſhire, by whom he had four ſons and four daughters. She dying in 1642, he married ſecondly our poet's grand-daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Naſh, on the 5th of June 1649, at Billeſley in War- wickſhire, about three miles from Stratford-upen-Avon. If any of Shakſpeare's manuſcripts remained in his grand-daughter's cuſtody at the time of her ſecond marriage, (and ſome letters at leaſt ſhe ſurely muſt have had,) they probably were then removed to the houſe of her new huſband at Abington, Sir Hugh Clopton, who was born two years after her death, mentioned to Mr, Macklin, in the year 1742, an old tradition that ſhe had carried away with her from Strat- ford many of her grandfather's papers. On the death of Sir John Barnard they muſt have fallen into the hands of Mr. Edward Bagley, Lady Barnard's executor; and if anydeſcendant of that gentleman be now living, in his cuſtody they probably remain. MAL ONE. 3 — but died likewiſe without iſſue, ] Confiding in a pedigree tranſ- mitted by Mr. Whalley ſome years ago to Mr. Steeyens, I once ſup- ofed that Mr. Rowe was inaccurate in ſaying that our poet's grand- 83 died without iſſue. But he was certainly right ; and this lady was undoubtedly the laſt lineal deſcendant of Shakſpeare. There is no entry, as I have already obſerved, in the Regiſter of Stratford, of any iſſue of hers by Mr, Naſh ; nor does he in his will mention any child, deviſing the greater part of his property between his wife and his kinſman, Edward Naſh, That Lady Barnard had no ifſue by her ſecond huſband, is proved by the Regiſter of Abington, in which there is no entry of the baptiſm of any child of that marriage, though there are regular entries of the time when the ſeveral children of Sir John Barnard by his firſt wife were baptized. Lady Barnard died at Abing- ton, and was buried there on the 17th of February 1669-70; but her huſband did not ſhew his reſpect for her memory by a monument, or even an inſcription of any kind. He ſeems not to have been ſenſible of the honourable alliance he had made. Shakſpeare's grand- daughter would not, at this day, go to her grave without a memorial. By her laſt will, which J ſubjoin, the direQs her truſtee to ſell her eſtate of New-Place, &c. to the beft bidder, and to offer it firſt to her couſin Mr. Edward Naſh, How ſhe then came to have any property in New. Place, which her firſt huſband had deviſed to this very Edward Naſh, does not appear; but I ſuppoſe that after the death of Mr. Thomas Naſh the exchanged the patrimonial lands which he bequeathed to her, with Edward Naſh and his ſon, and took New-Place, &c. inſtead of them. Sir John Barnard died at Abington, and. was buried there on March 5th, 1673-4. On his tomb-ſtone in the chancel of the church is the following inſcription : | Hic jacent exuuiæ generoſi/ſtmi viri Johannis Bernard, militis 3 patre, avo, abauo, tritave, aliiſque progenitoribus per ducentos et erplius annos bujus opidi de Abingdon dominis, infignis : qui f. 11 N N ö | b ce ſſit I ; 8 2 8 JJ ˙w!'U e EE ET ts. N . r Y OE FF IE hy >> - EN EP emen n r N N e 3 REF 8 yy Rs AE I EONS ar tnY Mao SR ea ol, on oh bene . NT * STO _ wes 3 1 . * r 1 — * a ; - * OF WILLIAM SHARK SPEARE. 149 This is what I could learn of any note, either relating | | to ceſſit undeſeptuageſſimo etatis ſue anno, quinto nonas Martii, annoque ns B, Virginis, MDCLX XIII. f Sir John Barnard having made no will, adminiftration of his effects was granted on the 7th of November 1674, to Henry Gilbert of Locks in the county of Derby, who had married his daughter Elizabeth by his firſt wife, and to his two other ſurviving daughters; Mary Higgs, widow of Thomas Higgs of Coleſborne, eſq. and Eleanor Cotton, the wife of Samuel Cotton, eſq. All Sir John Barnard's other children except the three above-mentioned died without iſſue. I know not whether any deſcendant of theſe be now living: but if that ſhoyld be the caſe, among their papers may poſſibly be found ſome fragment or other relative to Shakſpeare; for by his grand-daughter's order, the adminiſtrators of her huſhand were entitled to keep poſſeſſion of her houſe, &c, in Stratford, for ſix months after her death. The following is a copy of the will of this laſt deſcendant of our poet, extracted from the Regiſtry of the Prerogative Court of Can- erbury : | F 15 ch Name of God, Amen. I Dame Elizabeth Barnard, wife of Sir John Barnard of Abington in the county of Northampton, knight, being in perfect memory, (bleſſed be God!) and mindful of mortality, do make this my laſt will and teſtament in manner and form following. Whereas by my certain deed or writing under my hand and ſeal, dated on or about the eighteenth day of April 1653, according to a power therein mentioned, I the ſaid Elizabeth have limited and diſ- poſed of all that my meſſuage with the appurtenances in Stratford- upon-Avon, in the county of Warwick, called the New Place, and all that four-yard land and an half in Stratford- Welcombe and Biſhop- ton in the county of Warwick, (after the deceaſe of the ſaid Sir John Barnard, and me the ſaid Elizabeth,) unto Henry Smith of Stratford aforeſaid, Gent. and Job Dighton of the Middle Temple, London, Eſq. ſince deceaſed, and their heirs 3 upon truſt that they, and the ſurvivor, and the heirs of ſuch ſurvivor, ſhould bargain and ſell the ſame for the beſt value they can get, and the money thereby to be | raiſed to be employed and diſpoſed of to ſuch perſon and perſons, and in ſuch manner as I the ſaid Elizabeth ſhould by any writing or gote under my hand, truly teſtified, declare and nominate ; hereby may more fully appear. Now my will is, and I do hereby ſſgnify and'de. clare my mind and meaning to be, that the ſaid Henry Smith, my ſur- viving truſtee, or his heirs, ſhall with all convenient ſpeed after the deceaſe of the ſaid Sir John Barnard my huſband, make ſale of the inheritance of all and ſingular the premiſes, and that my loving couſin Edward Naſh, Eſq. ſhall have the firſt offer or refuſal thereof, accord- ing to my promiſe formerly made to him: and the monies to be raiſed by ſuch ſale I do give, diſpoſe of, and appoint the ſame. to be paid and diſtributed, as is herein after expreſſed ; that is to ſay, to my couſin Thomas Welles of Carleton, in the county of Bedford, Gent. on | T | | um 138 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. to himſelf or family: the character of the man is beſt ſeen in his writings. But ſince Ben Jonſon has made a ſort Cam of fifty pounds, to be paid him within one year next after ſuch b-. Lale: and if the ſaid Thomas Wells ſhall happen to die before ſuch 3 time as his ſaid legacy (hall become due to him, then my deſire is, that my kinſman Edward Bagley, citizen of London, ſhall have the ſole beneat thereof. ; Item, I do give and appoint unto Judith Hathaway, one of the daughters of my kinſman Thomas Hathaway, late of Stratford afore- ſaid, the annual ſum of five pounds of lawful money of England, to be paid unto her yearly and every year, from and after the deceaſe of the ſurvivor of the ſaid Sir John Barnard and me the ſaid Elizabeth, for and during the natural life of her the ſaid Judith, at the two moſt uſual feaſts or days of payment in the year, videlicet, the feaſt of the Annunciation of the Bleſſed Virgin Mary, and Saint Michael the archangel, by equal portions, the firſt payment thereof to begin at ſuch of the ſaid feaſts as ſhall next happen, after the deceaſe of the ſurvivor of the ſaid Sir John Barnard and me the (aid Elizabeth, if the, ſaid premiſes can be ſo toon ſold ; or otherwiſe ſo ſoon as the ſame can be ſold: and if the ſaid Judith ſhall happen to marry, and ſhall be minded to releaſe the ſaid annual ſum of five pounds, and ſhall ac- cordingly releaſe and quit all her intereſt and right in and to the ſame after it ſhall become due to her, then and in ſuch caſe, I do give and appoint to her the ſum of forty pounds in lieu thereof, to he paid unto Her at the time of the executing of ſuch releaſe as aforeſaid. Item, I give and appoint unto Joan the wife of Edward Kent, and one other of the daughters of the ſaid Thomas Hathaway, the ſum of fifty pounds, to be likewiſe paid unto her within one year next after the deceaſe of the ſurvivor of the ſaid Sir John Barnard and me the ſaid Elizabeth, if the ſaid premifes can be ſoon ſold, or otherwiſe ſo ſoon as the ſame can be fold ; and if the ſaid Joan ſhall happen to N die before the ſaid fifty pounds ſhall be paid to her, then J do give and 7 1 appoint the ſame unto Edward Kent the younger, her ſon, to be paid © unto him when he ſhall attain the age of one-and-twenty years. | Fl Item, I do,alſo give and appoint unto him the ſaid Edward Kent, ſon bf the ſaid_Joan, the ſum of thirty pounds, towards putting him out an apÞe\tice, and to be paid and diſpoſed of to that uſe when he ſhall be fit for it. | iy Item, I do give or appoint and diſpoſe of unto Roſe, Elizabeth, and Suſanna, three other of the daughters of my ſaid kinſman Thomas Hathaway, the ſum of forty pounds apiece, to be paid unto every of them at ſuch time and in ſuch manner as the ſaid fifty pounds before appointed to the ſaid Joan Kent, their ſiſter, ſhall become payable, Ttem, All the reſt of the monies that ſhall be raiſed by ſuch ſale ag aforeſaid, I give and diſpoſe of unto my ſaid kinſman Edward Bagley, except five pounds only, which I give and appoint to my ſaid truſtee Henry Smith for his pains; and if the ſaid Edward Naſh ſhall * : 8 - _— — — — 3 ey | 4 1 OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 139 fort of an eſſay towards it in his Diſcoveries, I wall give it in his words: h | C J remember the purchaſe of the ſaid meſſuage and four- yard land and a half with the appurtenances, then my will and deſire is, that the ſaid Henry Smith or his heirs ſhall ſell the inheritance of the ſaid premiſes and every part thereof unto the ſaid Edward Bagley, and that he ſhall pur- chaſe the ſame z upon this condition, nevertheleſs, that he the ſaid Edward Bagley, his heirs, executors, or adminittrators, ſhall juſtly and faithfully perform my will and true meaning, in making due pay- ment of all the ſeveral ſums of money or legacies before mentioned, in ſuch manner as aforeſaid. And I do hereby declare my will and meaning to be that the executors or adminiſtrators of my ſaid huſband Sir John Barnard ſhal! have and enjoy the uſe and benefit of my ſaid Houle in Stratford, called the New-Place, with the orchards, gardens, and all other the appurtenances thereto belonging, for and during the ſpace of fix months next after the deceaſe of him the ſaid Sir John Barnard, : | Item, I give and deviſe unto my kinſman Thomas Hart, the ſon of Thomas Hart, late of Stratford-upon- Avon aforeſaid, all that my other meſſuage or inn ſituate in Stratford-upon-Avon aforeſaid, com- monly called the Maidenhead, with the appurtenanees, and the next houſe thereunto adjoining, with the barn belonging to the ſame, now or late in the occupation of Michael Johnſon or his aſſigns, with all and ſingular the appurtenances; to hold to him the faid Thomas Hart the ſon, and the heirs of his body; and for default of ſuch iſſue, I give and deviſe the ſame to George Hart, brother of the ſaid Thomas Hart, and to the heirs of his body; and for default of ſuch iſſue to the right heirs of me the ſaid Elizabeth Barnard for ever. | Item, I do make, ordain and appoint my ſaid loving kinſman Ed- ward Bagley fole executor of this my laſt will and teſtament, hereby revoking all former wills; deſiring him to ſee a juſt performance here- of, according to my true intent and meaning. In witneſs whereof I the ſaid Elizabeth Barnard have hereunto ſet my hand and ſeal, the nine-and-twentieth day of January, Anno Domini, one thouſand fix hundred and ſixty-nine. | | „ = ELIZABETH BARNARD. Signed, ſealed, publiſhed, and declared, to be the laſt will and teſ- tament of the [aid Elizabeth Barnard, in the preſence of 0 OY John Howes, Rector de Abington. | Francis Wickes. | Probatum fuit teftamentum ſupraſcriptum apud ædes Exonienſes Situat. in le Strand, in comitatu Middx. quarto die menſis Martij, 1669, coram wenerabili viro Domino Egidio Seweete, milite et legum doctore, ſurrogate, &c. juramento Edwardi Bagley, unici executor, nominate cui, c. de bene, Ic. jurat. . e MALONE. I remember 149 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFF, &c. I remember the players have often mentioned it as *© an honour to Shakſpeare, that in writing (whatſoever * he penned) he never blotted out a line“. My anſwer 9 — that in writing ( whatſcewer be penned ) be never blotted out a line.] This is not true. They only ſay in their preface to his plays, that © his mind and hand went together, and what he thought, he uttered with that eaſineſs, that we have ſcarce received from him a blot in his papers.” On this Mr. Pope obſerves, that “there never was a more groundleſs report, or to the contrary of which there are more un- deniable evidences. As, the comedy of the Merry Wives of Windſor, which he entirely new writ; The Hiftory of Henry the Sixth, which was firſt publiſhed under the title of The Contention of York and Lan- caſter ; and that of Henry V. extremely improved; that of Hamlet en- larged to almoft as much again as at firſt, and many others.” Surely this is a very ſtrange kind of argument. In the firſt place this was not a report, (unleſs by that word we are to underſtand rela- rion, ) but a poſitive aſſertion, grounded on the beſt evidence that the nature of the ſubject admitted; namely, occular proof. The players Tay, in ſubſtance, that Shakſpeare had ſuch a happineſs of expreſſion, that, as they collect from his papers, he had ſe/dom occafion to alter the firſt words he had ſet down; in conſequence of which they found fearce a blot in his writings. And how is this refuted by Mr. Pope? By telling us, that a great many of his plays were enlarged by their authour. Allowing this to be true, which is by no means certain, if he had written twenty plays, each conſiſting of one thouſand lines, and afterwards added to each of them a thouſand more, would it therefore follow, that he had not written the firſt thouſand with faci- tity and correctneſs, or that thoſe muſt have been neceſſarily expungedy becauſe new matter was added to them? Certainly not. —But the truth is, it is by no means clear that our authour did enlarge all the plays mentioned by Mr. Pope, if even that would prove the point in- tended to be eſtabliſned. Mr. Pope was evidently deceived by the quarto copies. From the play of Henry V. being more perfect in the folio edition than in the quarto, nothing follows but that the quarto impreffion of that piece was printed from a mutilated and imperfe& copy, ſtolen from the theatre, or taken down by ear during the re- preſentation. What have been called the guarto copies of the Second and Third Parts of Ting Hevry YT. were in fact two old plays written before the time of Shakſpeare, and entitled The Firft Part of the Con- xention of the two bouſes of Yorke and Lancaſter, &c. and The true cragedy of Richard Duke of Yorke, &c. on which he conſtructed two new plays; juft as on the old plays of X. Jobn, and the Taming of @ Sbrew, he formed two other plays with nezrly the ſame titles. See the Diſſertation in Vol. VI. p. 381. | ; 7 The tragedy of Hamlet in the firſt edition, (now extant,) that of 3604, is ſaid to be “ enlarged to almoſt as much again as it was, ac- | cording 8 N De * . r 8 n N * 1 JJC (TTT F< — — * * * 7 n OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 142 c hath been, Would he had blotted a thoujfand! which. they thought a malevolent ſpeech. I had not told * poſterity this, but for their ignorance, who choſe that. « circumſtance to commend their friend by, wherein he «© moſt faulted : and to juſtify mine own candour, for 1 4 loved the man, and do honour his memory, on this cc fide idolatry, as much as any, He was, indeed, ho- cc neſt, and of an open and free nature, had an excellent © fancy, brave notions, and gentle expreſſions; wherein. «© he flowed. with that facility, that ſometimes it was «© neceſſary he ſhould be ſtopped: Suflaminandus erat, © as Auguſtus ſaid of Haterius. His wit was in his own r power; would the rule of it had been ſo too. Many times he fell into thoſe things which could not eſcape t laughter; as when he ſaid in the perſon of Cæſar, one e ſpeaking to him, Ts c Ce/ar thou doſt me wwrong, % He replied: | | „ Cz/ar did never wrong, but with juſt cauſe. cording to the true and perfect copy.” What is to Be collected from this, but that there was a former imperfe# edition (I believe, in the year 1602) ? that the one we are now fpeaking of was enlarged to as much again as it was in the former mutilated impreſſion, and that this Is the genuine and perfect copy, the other imperfect and ſpurious ? The Merry Wives of W:ndſor, indeed, and Romeo and Juliet, and perhaps Love's Labour's Loft, our authour appears to have altered and amplified; and to X. Richard II. what is called the parliament- ſcene, ſeems to have been added; (though this lat is by no means cer- tain;) but neither will theſe augmentations and new-modellings diſ- prove what has been aſſerted by Shakſpeare's fellow-comedians con- cerning the facility of his writing, and the exquifite felicity of his firſt expreſſions. | | | The haſty ſketch of the Merry Wives of Windſor, which he is faid to have compoſed in a fortnight, he might have written without a blot; and three or four years afterwards, when he choſe to dilate his plan, he might have compoſed the additional fcenes without a blot likewiſe. In a word, ſuppoſing even that Nature had not endowe& him with that rich vein which he unqueſtionably poſſeſſed, he who in little more than twenty years produces thirty. four orthirty-five pieces for the age, has certainly not much time for expunging. Maton#. «© And 142 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c. & and ſuch like, which were ridiculous; But he redeem- * ed his vices with his virtues : there was ever more ity „him to be praiſed than to be pardoned. ”?? As for the paſſage which he mentions out of Shak- ſpeare, there is ſomewhat like it in Fu/ius Cz/ar, but without the abſurdity ; nor did I ever meet with it in any edition that I have ſeen, as quoted by Mr. Jonſon *. Beſides his plays in this edition *, there are two or three aſcribed to him by Mr. Langbaine, which I have never ſeen, and know nothing of. He writ likewiſe x — nor did I ever meet with it in any edition that I haws ſtern, as quoted by Mr, Fonſon.] See Mr. Tyrwhitt's note, Vol. VII. p. 358, n. I. MaronE, 7 2 Beſides his play! in this edition, there are two or three aſcribed ts him by Mr. Langbaine,] The Birth of Merlin, 1662, written by W. Rowley; the old play of King Fobn in two parts, 1591, on which Shakſpeare formed his King Jobn; and the Arraignment of Paris, 1584, written by George Peele. The editor of the folio 1664, ſubjoined to the 36 dramas publiſhed - in 1623, ſeven plays, four of which had appeared in Shakſpeare's life- + time with his name in the title-page, viz, Pericles, Prince of Tyre, ' 1609, Sir Fohn Oldcafile, 1600, The London Prodigal, 1605, and The Yorkſhire Tragedy, 1608; the three others which they inſerted, Locrine, 1595, Lord Cromwell, 1602, and The Puritan, 1607, having been print- ed with the initials W.S. in the title-page, the editor chole to interpret thoſe letters to mean William Shakſpeare, and aſcribed them alſo to our poet. I publiſhed an edition of theſe ſeven pieces ſome years ago, freed in ſome meaſure from the groſs errors with which they had been exhibited in ancient copies, that the publick might ſee what they con- tained ; and do not heſitate to declare my firm perſuaſion that of Locrine, Lord Cromwell, Sir John Oldcaſtle, the London Prodigal, and | the Puritan, Shakſpeare did not write a ſingle line. How little the bookſellers of former times ſcrupled to affix the names of-celebrated writers to the productions of others, even in the life-time of ſuch celebrated authours, may be collected from Heyweod's Tranſlations from Ovid, which in 1612, while Shakſpeare was yet living, were aſcribed to him. See Vol. X. p. 321, n. 1. With the dead they would certainly make ſtill more free. This book” (ſays Anthony Wood, ſpeaking of a work to which the name of Sir Philip Sydney was prefixed) ( coming out ſo late, it is to be inquired whether Sir Philip Sydney's name is not ſet to it for ſale-ſake, being a uſual thing in theſe days to ſet a great name to a book or books, by ſharking bookſellers, or ſniveling writers, to get bread.* Athen, Oxon. Vol. I. P. 208. MALQNEs ö | | ; Venus 3 4s —* 9 OF WILLIAM sHAKSPEARE. 243 Venus and Adonis, and Targuin and Lucrece, in ſtanzas, which have been printed in a late collection of poems *. As to the character given of him by Ben Jonſon, there is a good deal true in it: but I believe it may be as well expreſſed by what Horace ſays of the firſt Romans, who wrote tragedy upon the Greek models, (or indeed tranſ- lated them,) in his epiſtle to Auguſtus : naturd ſublimis & acer: „ Nam ſpirat tragicum ſatis, et feliciter audet, Sed turpem putat in chartis metuiique lituram. As I have not propoſed to myſelf to enter into a large and complete criticiſm upon Shakſpeare's works, ſo 1 will only take the liberty, with all due ſubmiſſion to the judgment of others, to obſerve ſome of thoſe things 1 have been pleaſed with in looking him over. | His plays are properly to be diſtinguiſhed. only into | comedies and tragedies. Thoſe which are called hiſto- ries, and even ſome of his comedies, are really tragedies, with a run or mixture of comedy amongſt them 3. That | way * —in a late collection of poems.) In the fourth volume of State Poems, printed in 1707. Mr. Rowe did not go beyond A late Collec- tion of Poems, and does not ſeem to have known that Shakſpeare alſo wrote 154 Sonnets, and a poem entitled A Lover's Complaints 15 MALTLONE. 3 — are really tragedies, with a run or mixture of comedy among fb them.] Heywood, our authour's contemporary, has ſtated the beſt de- fence that can be made for his intermixing lighter with the more feri- ous ſcenes of his dramas. | | It may likewiſe be objected, why amongſt ſad and grave hiſtories I have here and there inſerted fabulous jeſts and tales ſavouring of light- neſs. I anſwer, I have therein imitated our hiſtorical, and comical poets, that write to the ſtage, who, leſt the auditory ſhould be dulled with ſerious courſes, which are merely weighty and material, in every act preſent ſome Zany, with his mimick action to breed in the leſs capa- ble mirth and laughter; for they that * ——— — — 8 n — — 23 —_—_ PRES; —— * 1 ww + + g — * % « . — —— — — =y . e Y 7 * e 3 8 RG - EO 25 bf d a M " TATE, Gay 55 \ S oy ne RN 1 n 4 * Ad p ens >» Ws * CTT 9 A a 1 2 > | 8 r : * * OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 151 Heury the Sixth, than the picture Shakſpeare has drawn of him! His manners are every where exactly the ſame with the ſtory; one finds him ſtill deſcribed with ſimpli- city, paſſive ſanctity, want of courage, weakneſs of mind, and eaſy ſubmiſſion to the governance of an im- perious wife, or prevailing faction: though at the ſame time the poet does juſtice to his good qualities, and moves the pity of his audience for him, by ſewing him pious, diſintereſted, a contemner of the things of this world, and wholly reſigned to the ſevereſt diſpenſations of God's providence. There is a ſhort ſcene in the Second Part of Henry the Sixth, which I cannot but think admirable in its kind. Cardinal Beaufort, who had murdered the Duke of Glouceſter, is ſhewn in the laſt agonies on his death-bed, with the good king pray! over him. There is ſo much terror in one, ſo A. _ tenderneſs and moving piety in the other, as muſt touch any one who is capable either of fear or pity. In his Henry the Eighth, that prince is drawn with that great- neſs of mind, and all thoſe good qualities which are at- | tributed to him in any account of his reign, If his faults are not ſhewn in an equal degree, and the ſhades in this picture do not bear a juſt proportion to the lights, it is not that the artiſt wanted either colours or fk11l in the diſpoſition of them; but the truth, I believe, might be, that he forbore doing it out of regard to queen Elizabeth, fince it could have been no very great reſpe&t to the memory of his miſtreſs, to have expoſed {ome cer- tain parts of her father's life upoa the ſtage. He has dealt much more freely with the miniſter of that great king; and certainly nothing was ever more juſtly writ- ten, than the character of Cardinal Wolſey. He has ſhewn him inſolent in his proſperity; and yet, by 2 wonderful addreſs, he makes his fall and ruin the ſub- ject of general compaſſion. The whole man, with his vices and virtues, is finely and exactly deſcribed in the ſecond ſcene of the fourth act. The diſtreſſes likewiſe of Queen Catharine, in this play, are very mei touched; and though the art of the poet has ſcreenec 5 K 41 King $ 152 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, &c, King Henry from any groſs imputation of injuſtice, yet one is inclined to wiſh, the Queen had met with a for- tune more worthy of her birth and virtue. Nor are the manners, proper to the perſons repreſented, leſs juſtly obſerved, in thoſe characters taken from the Roman hiſtory; and of this, the fierceneſs and impatience of Coriolanus, his courage and diſdain of the common people, the virtue and philoſophical temper of Brutus, and the irregular greatneſs of mind in M. Antony, are beautiful proofs. For the two laſt eſpecially, you find them exactly as they are deſcribed by Plutarch, from whom certainly Shakſpeare copied them. He has indeed followed his original prett cloſe, and taken in ſeveral little incidents Aae mlght halve been ſpared in a play. But, as I hinted before, his deſign ſeems moſt commonly rather to deſcribe thoſe great men in the ſeveral fortunes and accidents of their lives, than to take any ___ great action, and form his work ſimply upon that. However, there are ſome of his pieces, where the fable is founded upon one action only, Such are more eſpicially, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, and Othello. The deſign in Romeo and Fuliet is plainly the puniſh, - ment of their two families, for the unreaſonable feuds and animoſities that had been ſo long kept up between them, and occaſioned the effuſion of ſo much blood, In the management of this ſtory, he has ſhewn ſomething "wonderfully tender and paſſionate in the love-part, and very pitiful in the diſtreſs. Hamlet is founded an much the ſame tale with the Electra of Sophocles. In each of -them a young prince is engaged to revenge the death of his father, their mothers are equally guilty, are both concerned in the murder of their huſbands*®, and are af- terwards married to the murderers. There is in the firſt part of the Greek tragedy ſomething very moving in the grief of Electra; but, as Mr. Dacier has obſerved, there 5 — are beth concerned in the murder of their huſbands,] It does not appear that Hamlet's mother was concerned in the death of her huſ- : band. MALONR. %%% K ‚ Y „00 2 538 Os 0 — woes > . | | a 13 Lv OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE., 153 is ſomething very unnatural and ſhocking in the man- ners he has given that Princeſs and Oreſtes in the latter art. Oreſtes imbrues his hands in the blood of his own mother; and that barbarous action is performed, though not immediately upon the ſtage, yet ſo near, that the audience hear Clytemneſtra crying out to /Egyſthus for help, and to her ſon for mercy: while Electra her daughter, and a Princeſs, (both of them characters that - ought to have appeared with more decency,) ſtands upon the ſtage, and encourages her brother in the parricide. What horror does this not raiſe! Clytemneſtra was a wicked woman, and had deſerved to die; nay, in the truth of the ſtory, ſhe was killed by her own ſon; but to repreſent an action of this kind on the ſtage, is cer- tainly an offence againſt thoſe rules of manners proper to the perſons, that ought to be obſerved there. On the contrary, let us only look a little on the conduct of Shakſpeare. Hamlet is repreſented with the ſame piety towards his father, and reſolution to revenge his death, as Oreſtes; he has the ſame abhorrence for his mother's guilt, which, to provoke him the more, is heightened by inceſt: but it is with wonderful art and juſtneſs of judgment, that the poet reſtrains him from doing vio- lence to his mother. To prevent any thing of that kind, he makes his father's Ghoſt forbid that part of his ven- geance? | | But howſoever thou purſu'ft this act, T aint not thy mind, nor let thy foul contrive Againſt thy mother aught ; leave her to heaw'n, And to thoſe thorns that in her boſom lodge, To prick and fting her. This is to diſtinguiſh rightly between Horror and terror. The latter is a proper paſſion of tragedy, but the former ought always to be carefully avoided. And certainly no dramatick writer ever ſucceeded better in raiſing terror in the minds of an audience than Shakſpeare has done. The whole tragedy of Macbeth, but more eſpecially the icene where the King is murdered, in the ſecond act, as . | | | er 154 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LI PE, xc. well as this play, is a noble proof of that manly ſpirit with which he writ; and both ſhew how powerful he was, in giving the ſtrongeſt motions to our ſouls that they are capable of. I cannot leave Hamlet, without taking notice of the advantage with which we have ſeen this maſter-piece of Shakſpeare diſtinguiſh itſelf upon the ſtage, by Mr. Betterton's fine performance of that part. A man, who, though he had no other good quali- ties, as he has a great many, muſt have made his way Into the eſteem of all men of letters, by this only excel- lency. No man is better acquainted with Shakſpeare's manner of expreſſion, and indeed he has ſtudied him ſo well, and is ſo much a maſter of him, that whatever part of his he performs, he does it as if it had been written on purpoſe for him, and that the author had exactly conceived it as he plays it. I muſt own a par- ticular obligation to him, for the moſt conſiderable part of the paſſages relating to this life, which I have here tranſmitted to the public his veneration for the me- mory of Shakſpeare having engaged him to make a Journey into Warwickſhire, on purpoſe to gather u what remains he could, of a name 3 he had £ great a veneration 7. 7 7 .mof @ name for wwbich be bad 2 great à veneration.] Mr. Betterton was born in 1635, and had many opportunities of colle&- ing information relative to Shakſpeare, but unfortunately the age in - - which he lived was not an age of curioſity. Had either he or Dryden or Sir William D*Avenant taken the trouble to viſit o'r poet's youngeſt daughter, who lived till 1662, or his grand-daughter, who did not die till 1670, many particulars might have been preſerved which are now irrecoverably loſt, Shakſpeare's ſiſter, Joan Hart, who was only five years younger than him, died at Stratford in Nov. 1646, at the age of ſeventy fix; and from her undoubtedly his two daughters, and his giand-daughter Lady Barnard, had learned ſeveral circumſtances of his early hiſtory antecedent to the year 1600, MATLONE. This Account of the Life of Shakſpeare is printed from Mr. Rowe's ſecond edition, in which it had been abridged and altered by himſelf after its appearance in 1709, STEEVENS. | - PX * * ” 7 * 5 2%. * u —— x” B Ko 72 > 1 1 * 5 2 2 7 appellation of, Shak/peare's boys. Jounson. Fo the foregoing Accounts of SaEAKSPEARE'S Live, 7 hae only one Paſſage ts add, which Mr. Pope related, as communicated to him by Mr. Rowe, N the time of Elizabeth, coaches being yet uncom- mon, and hired coaches not at all in uſe, thoſe who were too proud, too tender, or too idle to walk, went on horſeback to any diſtant buſineſs or diverſion. Many came on horſeback to the play“, and when Shakſpeare fled to London from the terror of a criminal proſecution, his firſt expedient was to wait at the door of the play- houſe, and hold the horſes of thoſe that had no ſervants, that they might be ready again after the performance. In this office he became ſo conſpicuous for his care and readineſs, that in a ſhort time every man as he alighted called for Will. Shakſpeare, and ſcarcely any other waiter was truſted with a horſe while Will. Shakſpeare could be had. This was the firſt dawn of better fortune. Shakſpeare, finding more horſes put into his hand than he could hold, hired boys to wait under his inſpection, who, when Will. Shakſpeare was ſummoned, were im- mediately to preſent themſelves, I am Shakfpeare's boy, Sir, In time Shakſpeare found higher employment; but as long as the practice of riding to the play-houſe continued, the waiters that held the horſes retained t Many came an horſeback to the play,] Plays were at this time pers formed in-the afternoon. The pollicie of plaies is very necellary, howſoever ſome thallow-brained cenſurers (not the drepeſt ſearchers into the ſecrets of government) mightily oppugne them. For whereas the afternoon being the idleſt time of the day wherein men that are their own maſters (as gentlemen of the court, the innes of the court, and a number of captains and ſoldiers about London) do wholly be- ſtow themſelves upon pleaſure, and that pleaſure they divide (how vertuouſly it ſkills not) either in gaming, following of harlots, drink. ing, or ſeeing a play, is it not better (ſince of four extieames all the world cannot keepe them bat they will chooſe one) that they ſhould | betake them to the leaſt, which is plaies? Naſh's Pierce Pennileſſe Eis Supplication to the Devil, 1592. STEEVENS. * — the waiters that held the hor ſes retained the appellation of Shak ſpeare's boys. ] I cannot diſmiſs this anecdote without obſerving that it B33 0 ſeems rs Ares r 9 M r. 4 * 2:2. a= < — [ 1 F of (a a; ff [4 ; at & ot 156 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES Mr. Rowe has told us that he derived the principal anecdotes in his account of Shakſpeare, from Betterton 1 85 | the feems to want every mark of 8 | Though Shakſpeare quitted Stratford on account of a juvenile irregularity, we have no reaſon to ſup- poſe that he had forfeited the protection of his father who was engaged in a lucrative buſineſs, or the love of his wife who had already brought him two children, and was herſelf the daughter of a ſubſtantial yeo- man. It is unlikely therefore, when he was beyond the reach of his proſecutor, that he ſhould conceal his plan of life, or place of refidence, from thoſe who, if he found himſelf diſtreſſed, could not fail to afford him ſuch ſupplies as would have ſet him above the neceſſity of holding bores for ſubſiſtence. Mr. Malone has remarked in his Attempt te aſcertain the Order in which the 5 jo of Shakſpeare were wpritten, that he might have found an eaſy introduction to the ſtage; for Thomas Green, a celebrated comedian of that period, was his townſman, and perhaps his relation. The genius of our author prompted him to write poetry; his connection with a player might have given his pro- ductions a dramatick turn; or his own ſagacity might have taught him that fame was not incompatible with profit, and that the theatre was an avenue to both. That it was once the cuſtom to ride on horſe. back to the play, I am likewiſe yet to learn, The moſt popular of the theatres were on the Bank- ſide; and we are told by the ſatirical pamphleteers of the time, that the uſual mode of conveyance to theſe places of amuſement, was by water: but not a ſingle writer ſo much as hints at the cuſtom of riding to them, or at the practice of having | horſes held during the hours of exhibition. Some alluſion to this uſage (if it had exiſted) muſt, I think, have been diſcovered in the courſe of our reſearches after contemporary faſhions. Let it be re- membered too, that we receive this tale on no higher authority than that of Cibber's Lives of the Poets, Vol. I. p. 130. „ Sir William Davenant told it to Mr. Betterton, who communicated. it to Mr. Rowe,” who (according to Dr. Johnſon) related it to Mr. Pope. Mr. Rowe (if this intelligence be authentick) ſeems to have concurred with me in opinion, as he forebore to introduce a circumſtance ſo in- credible into his life of Shakſpeare. As to the book which furniſhes the anecdote, not the ſmalleſt part of it was the compoſition of Mr. Cibber, being entirely written by a Mr. Shiells, amanuenſis to Dr, Johnſon, when his Dictionary was preparing for the preſs, T. Cibber vas in the King's Bench, and accepted of ten guineas from the book- ſellers for leave to prefix his name to the work; and it was purpoſely ſo prefixed as to leave the reader in doubt whether himſelf or his father was the perſon deſigned. STEEZVENS..- - . | | Mr. Steevens in one particular is certainly miſtaken. To the theatre in Blackfriars I have no doubt that many gentlemen rode in the time of Queen Elizabeth and K. James I. From the Strand, e HNHolbern; OF SHAKSPEARE. 157 the player, whoſe zeal had induced him to viſit Stratford for the ſake of procuring all poſſible intelligence con- cerning a poet to whoſe works he might juſtly think him- ſelf under the ſtrongeſt obligations. Notwithſtanding this aſſertion, in the manuſcript papers of the late Mr. Oldys it is ſaid, that one Boman (according to Chet- wood, p. 143, an actor more than half an age on the London theatres”) was unwilling to allow that his aſſo- ciate and contemporary Betterton had ever undertaken ſuch a journey“. Be this matter as it will, the following particulars, which I ſhall give in the words of Oldys, are, for aught we know to the contrary, as well authen- ticated as any of the anecdotes delivered down to us b Rowe. DO | Holborn, Biſhopſgate-ſtreet, &c. where many of the nobility lived, they could indeed go no other way than on foot, or on horſeback, or in coaches; and coaches till after the death of Elizabeth were ex- tremely rare. Many of the gentry therefore certainly went to that play-houſe on horſeback. See the proofs, in the Eſſay above referred to. This however will not eſtabliſh the tradition relative to our authour's firſt employment at the play-houſe, which ſtands on a very ſlender foundation. MaroNE. * ie is ſaid that one Boman—vas unwilling to belirve that his aſſociate and contemporary Betterton had ever undertaken ſuch a jour- ney .] This aſſertion of Mr. Oldys is altogether unworthy of credit, Why any doubt ſhould be entertained concerning Mr, Betterton's hav- ing viſited Stratford, after Rowe's poſitive aſſertion that he did ſo, it is not eaſy to conceive, Mr. Rowe did not go there himſelf; and how could he have collected the few circumſtances relative to Shakſpeare and his family, which he has told, if he had not obtained irforma- tion from.ſome friend who examined the Regiſter of the pariſh of Stratford, and made perſonal inquiries on the ſubject ? 66 Boman, we are told, „was unwilling to" believe, &c. But the fact diſputed did not require any exerciſe of his belief. Mr. Bo- man was married to the daughter of Sir Francis Watſon, Bart, the gentleman with whom Betterton joined in an adventure to the Eaſt Indies, whoſe name the writer of Betterton's Life in Biographia Bri- tannica has fo ſtudiouſly concealed. By that unfortunate ſcheme Betterton loſt above 20001, Dr. Ratcliffe 6co0l. and Sir Francis Wat- ſon his whole fortune, On his death ſoon after the year 1692, Bet- terton generouſly took his daughter under his protection, and educated her in his houſe. Here Baman married her; from which period he continued to live in the moſt friendly correſpondence with Mr, Bet- terton, and muſt have knozwn whether he went to Stratford or not. | : Maronr, Mr. 18 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES Mr. Oldys had covered ſeveral quires of paper with laborious colle&ions for a regular life of our author; From theſe I have made the following extracts, which (however trivial) contain the only circumſtances that wear the leaſt appearance of novelty or information; the ſong in p. 106, excepted. | * ce Tf tradition may be truſted, Shak ſpeare often baited at the Crown Inn or Tavern in Oxford, in his journey to and from London. The landlady was a woman of great beauty and ſprightly wit; and her huſband, Mr. John Davenant, (afterwards mayor of that city) a grave melancholy man ; who, as well as his wife, uſed much to delight in Shakſpeare's pleaſant company. Their ſon young Will Davenant (afterwards Sir William) was then a little ſchool-boy in the town, of about ſeven or eight years old3, and ſo fond alſo of Shakſpeare, that whenever he heard of his arrival, he would fly from ſchool to ſee him. One day an old townſman obſerving the boy running homeward almoſt out of breath, aſked him whither he was poſting in that heat and hurry. He anſwered, to ſee his god-tather Shakſpeare. There's a good boy, ſaid the other, but haye a care that you don't take God's name in vain. This ſtory Mr. Pope told me at the Earl of Oxford's table, upon occaſion of ſome diſcourſe which aroſe about Shakſpeare's monument then newly erected in Weſtminſter Abbey +; and he quoted N | : Mr, 3. of about ſeven or eight years old,] He was born at Oxford in February, 1605-0 MarLoNE. - | 4 — Shakſpeare's monument then nexvly erected in Weflminſter Abbey ;] tc This monument,” fays Mr. Granger, was erected in 174, by the direction of the Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr, Pope, and Mr. Martin. Mr. Fleetwood and Mr. Rich gave each of them a bepefit towards it, from one of Shakſpeare's own plays. It was executed by H. Scheemaker, after a defign of Kent. | « On the monument is inſctibed—amor publicus poſuits Dr. Mead odjected to amor publicus, as not occurring in old claſſical inſcriptions ; but Mr. Pope and the other gentlemen concerned igfiſting that it ſhould ſtand, Dr. Mead yielded the point, ſaying, | . Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori. 1 | eta ; 5 8 This U 7 by. : E . EE — ö = f — aro» * — OF SHAKSPEARE. 159 Mr. Betterton the player for his authority. I anſwered that 1 thought ſuch a ſtory might have enriched the va- riety of thoſe choice fruits of obſervation he has preſented us in his preface to the edition he had publiſhed of our poet's works. He replied—** There might be in the garden of mankind ſuch plants as would ſeem to pride themſelves more in a regular production of their own cc This anecdote was communicated by Mr. Lort, late Greek Pro- feſſor of Cambridge, who had it from Dr. Mead himſelf.” It was recorded at the time in the Genr/eman's Magazine for Feb. 1741, by a writer who objects to every part of the inſcription, and ſays it ought to have been, G. S. centum viginti et quatuor poſt ebitum annis populus plaudens | aut favens] poſuit.“ The monument was opened Jan. 29, 1741. Scheemaker is ſaid to have got 3col. for his work. The performers at each houſe, muck to their honour, performed gratis; and the dean and chapter of Weſt- minſter took nothing for the ground. The money received by the per- formance at Drury-Lane, amounted to above 200l. the receipts at Covent-Garden to about 1col, I heſe particulars J learn from Qldys's Mi. notes on Langbaine. ; | The ſcroll on the monument, as I-Jearn from a letter to my father, dated June 27, F741, remained for ſome time after the monument was ſet up, without any inſcription on it. This was a challenge to the wits of the time; which one of them accepted by writing a copy of verſes, the ſubject of which was a converſation ſuppoſed to paſs be- tween Dr. Mead and Sir Thomas Hanmer, relative to the filling up of the ſcroll, I know not whether they are in print, and I do not chooſe to quote them all. The introduQtory lines, however, run thus; 4 To learned Mead thus Hanmer ſpoke : * Doctor, this empty ſeroll's a joke. « Something it doubtleſs ſhould contain, « Extremely ſhort, extremely plain; 6 But wondrous deep, and wondrous pat, ; « And fit for Shakſpeare to point at; &c. MALoxx. At Drury-Lane was acted Julius Ceſar, 28th April 1738, when a prologue written by Benjamin Martin, Eſq. was ſpoken by Mr. Quin, and an Epilogue by James Noel, Eſq. ſpoken by Mrs. Porter. Both theſe are printed in tbe General Dictionary. At Covent-Garden was ated Hamlet, roth April 1739, when a prologue written by Mr. Theobald, and printed in the London Magazine of that year, wat ſpoken by Ryan. In the newſpaper of the day it was obſerved that this laſt repreſentation was far from being numerouſiy ER ? TE VVV EE D. native ——_ — . o HD, ag > * 160 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES native fruits, than in having the repute of bearing a richer kind by grafting; and this was the reaſon he omitted it 5,” Z ES The ſame ftory, without the names of the perſons, is rinted among the jeſts of John Taylor the Water poet, in his works, folio, 1630, page 184, No 39: and, with ſome variations, may be found in one of Hearne's pocket books yh 7 | = - „ One 5 wand this vas the reaſon he omitted it.] Mr. Oldys might have added, that be was the perſon who ſuggeſted to Mr. Pope the ſingular courſe which he purſued in his edition of Shakſpeare, © Remember” (fays Oldys in a Mf. note to his copy of Langbaine, Article, Shak= ſprare,) „What I obſerved to my Lord Oxford for Mr. Pope's uſe, out of Cowley's preface,” The obſervation here alluded to, I believe, is one made by Cowley in his preface, p. 53. edit. 1710, 8vo, & This has been the caſe with Shakſpeare, Fletcher, Jonſon, and' many others, part of whoſe poems I ſhould take the boldneis to prune and /op away, if the care of replanting them in print did belong to me; neither would I make any ſcruple to cut off from ſome the unneceſſary young ſuckers, and from others the old withered branches; for a great wit is no more tied to live in a vaſt volume, than in a gigantick body; on the con- trary it is commonly more vigorous the leſs ſpace it animates, and a2 Statius ſays of little Tydeus, Te - totos infuſa per artus, Major in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus ?“ Pope adopted this very unwarrantable idea; ſtriking out from the text of his authour whatever he did not like: and Cowley himſelf has ſuffered a ſort of poetical puniſhment for having ſuggeſted it, the learned biſhop of Worceſter [Dr. Hurd] having pruned and lopped away his beautiful luxuriances, as Pope, on Cowley's ſuggeſtion, did thoſe of Shakſpeare. MAL ONE. . | 6 The ſame flory—may be found in one of Hearne's pocket books.] Antony Wood is the firſt and original author of the anecdote that Shakſpeare, in his journies from Warwickſhire to London, uſed to bait at the Crown-inn on the weſt fide of the corn-market in Oxford. He ſays, that Davenant the poet was born in that houſe in 1606. «© His father (he adds) John Davenant, was a ſufficient vintner, kept te the tavern now known by the ſign of the Crown, and was mayor of dc the ſaid city In 1621. His mother was a very beautiful woman, of « a good wit and converſation, in which ſhe was imitated by none « of her children but by this Villiam [the poet], The father, who 4c Was a very grave and diſcreet citizen, (yet an admirer and lover of © plays and play-makers, eſpecially Shakſpeare, who r r CS 66 hou „ OF SHAEK SPE ARE. 161 t One of Shakſpeare's younger brothers 7, who lived to a good old age, even ſome years, as I compute, after | the & houſe in his journies between Watwickſhire and London) was of a & melancholick diſpoſition, and was ſeldom or never ſeen to laugh, & in which he was imitated by none of his children but by Robert his c eldeſt ſon, afterwards fellow of St. John's college, and a venerable 6 Doctor of Divinity,” Wood's Atb. Oxon. . Vol. II. p. 292. edit. 1692. I will not ſuppoſe that Shakſpeare could have been the father of a Doctor of Divinity who never laughed: but it was always a con- ſtant tradition in Oxford that Shakſpeare was the father of Davenant the poet. And I have ſeen this circumſtance expreſsly mentioned in ſome of Wood's papers. Wood was well qualified to know theſe - particulars; for he was a townſman of Oxford, where he was born in 1632. Wood ſays, that Davenant went to ſchool in Ox- ford. Ubi ſupr. As to the Crown-Tan, it ſtill remains as an inn, and is an old de- cayed houſe, but probably was once a principal inn in Oxford, It js directly in the road from Stratford to London. In a large upper room, which ſeems to have been a ſort of Hall for entertaining a large company, or for accommodating (as was the cuſtom) different parties at once, there was a bow-window, with three pieces of excellent painted glaſs, About eight years ago, I remember viſiting this room, and propoſing to purchaſe of the landlord the painted glaſs, which would have been a curiofity as coming from Shakſpeare's inn. But going thither ſoon after, J found it was removed; the inn-keeper hav- ing communicated my intended bargain to the owner of the houſe, who began to ſuſpect that he was poſſeſſed of a curioſity too valuable to be parted with, or to remain in ſuch a'place : and I never could hear of it afterwards. If I remember right, the painted glaſs con- ſiſted of three armorial ſhields beautifully ſtained. I have ſaid ſo much on this ſubject, beeaufe I think that Shakſpeare's old hoſtelry at Oxford deſerves no leſs reſpect than Chaucer's Tabarde in South- wark. T. WAR TON. | | | 7 One of Sbakſpeare's younger brothers, &c.] Mr. Oldys ſeems to | Have ſtudied the art of © marring a plain tale in the telling of it; for he has in this ſtory introduced circumſtances which tend to diminiſh, inſtead of zdCeing to, its credibility. Male dum recitas, incipit effe tuum. From Shakſpeare's not taking notice of any of his brothers or ſiſters in his will, except Joan Hart, I think it highly probable they were all dead in 1616, except her, at leaſt all thoſe of the whole blood; though in the Regiſter there is no entry of the burial of either his brother Gilbert, or Edmund, antecedent to the death of Shak- ſpeare, or at any ſubſequent period, : The truth is, that this account of our poet's having performed the part of an old man in one of his own comedies; came originally from Vo. I. (L] Mr. 162 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES the reſtoration of King Charles II. would in his younger days come to London to viſit his brother Vill, as he called him, and be a ſpectator of him as an actor in ſome of his own plays. This cuſtom, as his brother's fame enlarged, and his dramatick entertainments grew the greateſt ſupport of our principal, if not of all our theatres, he continued it ſtems ſo long after his brother's death, as even to the latter end of his own life. The curioſity at this time of the moſt noted aQors [exciting them] to learn ſomething from him of his brother, &c. they juſtly held him in the higheſt veneration. And it may be well bclieved, as there was beſides a kinſman and deſcendant of the family, who was then a celebrated actor among them, [Charles Hart *, See Shakſpeare's Will.] this opportunity made them greedily inquiſitive Mr. Thomas Jones of Tarbick, in Worceſterſhire, who has been al- ready mentioned, (ſee p. 106, n. 5.) and who related it from the in- formation, not of one of Shakſpeare's brothers, but of a relation of our poet, who lived to a good old age, and who had ſeen him act in his youth, Mr. Jones's informer might have been Mr. Richard Quiney, who lived in London, and died at Stratford in 1656, at the age of 69; or Mr. Thomas Quiney, our poet's ſon-in-law, who lived, I believe, till 1663, and was twenty-ſeven years old when his father-in-law died; or ſome one of the family of Hathaway. Mr. Thomas Hatha- way, I believe Shakſpeare's brother-in-law, died at Stratford in 2654-5, at the age of 85. | There was a Thomas Jones an inhabitant of Stratford, who between the years 1581 and 1590 had four ſons, Henry, James, Edmund, and Iſaac : ſome one of theſe, it is probable, ſettled at Tarbick, and was the father of Thomas Jones, the relater of this anecdote, who was born about the year 1613. | | If any of Shakſpeare's brothers lived till after the Reſtoration, and viſited the players, why were we not informed to what player he re- lated it, and from what player Mr. Oldys had his account? The fact, I believe, is, he had it not from a player, but from the above-mentioned Mr. Jones, who likewiſe communicated the ſtanza of the ballad on Sir Thomas Lucy, which has been printed in a former page. MALON x. 2 — Charles Hart. I Mr. Charles Hart the player was born, I . lieve, about the year 1630, and died in 168 5. If be was a grandſon of Shakſpeare's ſiſter, he Was probably the ſon of Michael Hart, her youngeſt ſon, of whoſe marriage or death there is no account in the « pariſh Regiſter of Stratford, and therefore I ſuſpeQ he ſettled in London, MALONE, | | > 6 In to 2 — — — —— — 2 —7ä—4ñ̃— OF SHAKSPEARE, | 163 into every little circumſtance, more eſpecially in his XZ dgramatick character, which his brother could relate of mim. But he, it ſeems, was ſo ſtricken in years, and | poſlibly his memory ſo weakened with infirmities, (which might make him the eafier paſs for a man of weak in- tellects,) that he could give them but little light into their inquiries; and all that could be recolle&ed from him of his brother Vill in that ſtation was, the faint, general, and almoſt loſt ideas he had of hay- ing once ſeen him act a part in one of his own comedies, wherein being to perſonate a decrepit old man, he wore 2 long beard, and appeared ſo weak and drooping and unable to walk, that he was forced to be ſupported and carried by another perſon to a table, at which he was XZ ſeated among ſome company, who were eating, and one of them ſung a ſong. See the character of Adam in A,. you like it, Act II. 1c, ult. : ol 5 = cc Verſes by Ben Jonſon and Shakſpeare, occaſioned by the motto to the Globe Theatre-—T ous mundus agit = -ifrionem. | ; Jonſon. a | If, but fage actors, all the world diſplays, - Where ſhall we find /pe&atrors of their plays? 25 | Shakſpeare, 5 Little, or much, of what we ſee, we do; We are all both ars and ſpectators too. Poetical Characteriſticks, 8 vo. MS. Vol. I. ſome time _ the Harleian Library ; which volume was returned to its Owner.“ : | — 8 * | „Old Mr. Boman the player reported from Sir William Biſhop, that ſome part of Sir John Fal- ſtaff's character was drawn from a townſman of Strat- ford, who either faithleſsly broke a contract, or ſpite- fully refuſed to part with ſome land, for à valuable LL 2] con- r n rr. airs e 8 „ oO EN RR IR PER En OS Hr” 17 ee ö — . W a E RF 7 2 8 P e 2 : 3 « h C 2 . 8 a 3 © ND x N "> r 8 2 Phy re 2 nw q 7 Y Res,” * 8 ; G12 > — by ; V. Rr, oo TEST 1p. oY ; g : 3 Cas : 164 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES conſideration, adjoining to Shakſpeare's, in or near that town.“ To theſe anecdotes I can only add the following. At the conclufion of the advertiſement prefixed to Lin- tot's edition of Shakſpeare's poems, it is ſaid, That moſt learned prince and great patron of learning, King James the Firſt, was pleaſed with his own hand to write an amicable letter to Mr. Shakſpeare; which letter, though now loſt, remained long in the hands of Sir William D*Avenant®?, as a credible perſon now living can teſtify.“ | Mr. Oldys, in a MS. note to his copy of Fuller's Worthies, obſerves, that the: ſtory came from the duke of Buckingham, who had it from Sir William D*Avenant.*? 5 It appears from Ro/cius Anglicanus, (commonly called Downes the prompter's book) 1708, that Shakſpeare took the pains to inſtruct Joſeph Taylor in the character of Hamlet, and John Lowine in that of K. Henry VIII. | STEEVENS. Extract from the Rev. Dr. Farmer's E/ay on the Learn- ing of Shakſpeare, ſmall 8vo. 1767. . In 1751, was reprinted ““ A compendious or briefe & examination of certayne ordinary complaints of divers of our Countrymen in theſe our days: which although they are in ſome parte unjuſt and friuolous, yet are they all by way of dialogue thoroughly debated and diſcuſſed by William Shakſpeare, Gentleman.“ 8vo. This extraordinary piece was originally publiſhed in 4to, 1581, and dedicated by the author, To the moſt 9 — which letter, though now lo, remained long in the bands of Sir William D'Avenant.] Dr. Farmer with great probability ſuppoſes that this letter was written by King James in return for the com - pliment paid to him in Macbeth. The relater of this anecdote was Sheffield Duke of Buckingham. MaLoxs, | vertuous Fe of on 1 * is . | 5 4 = . N. 1 £ . F * 8 : # ij R 44 * . HK . * 1 115 ky 3 W. 7 6 F CCC * r OF SHAKSPEARE 1865 vertuous and learned Lady, his moſt deare and ſove- raigne Princeſſe, Elizabeth ; being inforced by her ma- 1 jeſties late and ſingular clemency in pardoning certayne his unduetifull miſdemeanour.” And by the modern editors, to the late king; as a treatiſe compoſed by the moſt extenſive and fertile genius that ever any age or nation produced. | | | | Here we join iſſue with the writers of that excellent, though very unequal work, Biographia Britannica : if, ſay they, this piece could be written by our poet, it would be abſolutely deciſive in the diſpute about his learning; for many quotations appear in it from the Greek and Latin claſſicks. | | | The concurring circumſtances of the zame, and the miſdemeanor, which 1s ſuppoſed to be the old ſtory of deer- ſtealing, ſeem fairly to challenge our poet for the author: but they heſitate. —His claim may appear to be confuted by the date 1581, when Sha#/peare was only ſeventeen, and the long experience, which the writer talks of.— But I will not keep the reader in ſuſpenſe : the book was ze written by Sha#/peare. Strype, in his Annals, calls the author souE learned man, and this gave me the firſt ſuſpicion. I knew very well, that honeft 7h (to uſe the language of Sir Thomas Bodley) did not waſte his time with ſuch baggage books as plays and poems; yet J muſt ſuppoſe, that he had heard of the name of Shak/peare, After a while I met with the original edition. Here in the title-page, and at the end of the dedication, appear only the initials, W.S. gent. and preſently I was informed by Anthony Wood, that the book in queſtion was written, not by William Shakſpeare, but by William Stafford, gentle- man!“: which at once accounted for the mi/demeanour in hat the book in queſtion was written, not by William Shak- ſpeare, but by William Stafford, gentleman 1 Faſti. 2d. Edit. V. i. 208.— lt will be ſeen on turning to the former edition, that the latter part of the paragraph belongs to another Stafford. have ſince obſerved, that Wood is not the firſt, who hath given us the true author of the pamphlet. FARM ZX. N | | L 3] the 1 * — ———U— — — — — (fk l et 2 — — - — ——— — 2 — — — — 166 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES the dedication. For S:aford had been concerned at that time, and was indeed afterward, as Camden and the other annaliſts inform us, with ſome of the conſpirators _ againſt Zlizabeth; which he properly calls his andueti- Full behaviour. | 1 . I hope by this time, that any one open to conviction may be nearly ſatisfied ; and I will promiſe to give on this head very little more trouble. „ The juſtly celebrated Mr. Warton hath favoured us, in his Life of Dr. Batbarſt, with ſome hear/ay particu- lars concerning Shakſpeare from the papers of Aubrey, which had been in the hands of Wood; and I ought not to ſuppreſs them, as the /a/? ſeems to make againſt my doctrine. They came originally, J find, on conſult- ing the MS. from one Mr. Beeſton: and I am ſure Mr. Warton, whom I have the honour to call my friend, and an aſſociate in the queſtion, will be in no pain about their credit. | 85 . e « William Shakſpeare's father was a butcher ;—while he was a boy he exercifed his father's trade, but when he killed a calf, he would do it in a high ſtyle, and make a ſpeech. This William being inclined naturally to poetry and acting, came to London, I gueſs, about eighteen, and was an actor in one of the playhouſes, and did act exceedingly well, He began early to make eſſays in dramatique poetry.—-The humour of the Conſable in the M:ia/ummer-Night's Dream he happen'd to take at Crendon * in Bucks. —I think, I have been told, that he left near three hundred pounds to a fer. He underſtood Latin pretty well, rox he had been in his younger years a Sehoolmaſter in the country. 2 The humour of the Conſtable in the Midſummer-Night's Dream Be bappen'd to take at Crendon—] This place is not met with in Spe/- man's Villare, or in Adam's Index; ner in the f and the /aft performance of this fort, Speed's Tables, and Whatley's Gazetteer : perhaps, however, it may be meant under the name of Crandonz—but the inquiry at of no importance. Alt ſhould, I think, be written Cre- dendon; though better antiquaries than Aubrey have acquieſced in the vulgar corruption, FakMER © © | I will a OF SHAK SPE ARE. 167 Iwill be ſhort in my animadverſions; and take them in their order. c INE ay The account of the trade of the family is not only con- trary to all other tradition, but, as it may ſeem, to the inſtrument from the Herald's- office, fo frequently re- printed. —Shakſpeare moſt certainly went to London, and commenced actor through neceſſity, not natural in- clination.— Nor have we any reaſon to ſuppoſe, that he 1 did act exceedingly well. Rowe tells us from the infor- mamaation of Betterton, who was inquifitive into this point, and had very early opportunities of enquiry from Sir W. D' Avenant, that he was no extraordinary actor; and that the top of his performance was the Ghoſt in his 1 own Hamlet. Yet this chef d' oeuvre did not pleaſe: E will give you an original ſtroke at it. Pr. Lodge, whs Was for ever peſtering the town with pamphlets, pub» . = liſhed in the year 1596, irs Miſerie, and the Worlds Madneſſe, diſcovering the Devils incarnat of this Age, to. One of theſe devils is Hate-virtue, or Sorrow for an- 2 other, man's good ſucceſſe, who, ſays the doctor, is a = >-Foule lubber, and looks as pale as the vifard of the Ghoſt, = whichccried fo miſerably at the theatre, like an oiſter- = wife, Hamlet, revenge *,” Thus you ſee Mr. Holt's ſup- b ö poſed 3 ile an viſfter-wife, Hamlet, revenge. I To this obſervation of Dr. Farmer it may be added, that the play of Hamlet was better known by this ſcene, than by any other, In Decker's Satiromaſtix, 1602, the following paſſage occurs. | m6 77 ASC IL ls 21 1 90 Ait. 7 R n * „ Would I were hang'd if I can call you any names but captain, | 07, 48 Tucca. 5 a ; & No, fye; my name's Hamlet Revenge: thou haſt been at Paris- Garden, haſt thou not??? 8 a Again, in Weſtward Hoe, by Decker and Webſter, 16: & Let theſe huſbands play mad Hamlet, and cry, revenge [** f | «Shs Hong Avg . STEEVENSs Dr. Farmer's obſervation may be further confirmed by the following paſſage in an anonymous play, called 4 Warning for faire Women, 1599. We allo learn from it the ufual dreſs of the ſtage ghoſts of thay [L4] 6 4 1 168 ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES ſed proof, in the appendix to the late edition, that amlet was written after 1597, or perhaps 1602, will by no means hold good; whatever might be the caſe of the particular paſſage on which it is founded. EO Nor does it appear, that Shakſpeale did begin early to make e//ays in dramatique poetry : the Arraigument of Paris, 1584, which hath ſo often been aſcribed to him on the credit of Kirkman and Winſtanley +, was written by George Peele ; and Shakſpeare is not met with, even as an af/ftant, till at leaſt ſeyen years afterward 5.— Naſh in his epiſtle to the gentlemen ſtudents of both univerſities, prefixed to Greene's Arcadia, 4to. black letter, recommends his friend, Peele, as the chiefe ſupporter of pleaſance now living, the Atlas of poetrie, and primus verborum artifex : whoſe firſt increaſe, the Arraigument of Paris, might plead to their opinions his pregnant dexteritie of wit and manifold varietie of invention ©,??. 0 be — A filthie whining ghoſt, | | „ Lapt in ſome foule ſheet, or a /ather pilch, Comes ſcreaming like a pigge half ſtickt, « And cries vindicta—revenge, revenge.” = The leathern pilch, I ſuppoſe, was a theatrical ſubſtitute for armour. . Mar ons. 4 — en the credit of Kirkman and Winſtanley,] Theſe people, who were the Curls of the laſt age, aſcribe likewiſe to our author thoſe miſerable performances, Mucedorus, and the Merry Devil of Edmonton. 2 EL EE FARMER. S — Shakſpeare is not met with, even as ap aſſiſtant, till at leaſt ſeven years macht” Mr, Pope aſſerts ( The troubleſome Raigne of King Fobn,“ in two parts, 1611, to have been written by Shak- ſpeare and Rowley :—which edition is a mere copy of another in black letter, 1591. But I find his aſſertion is ſomewhat to be doubted: for the old edition hath no' name of author at all; and that of 1611, the initials only, V. Sb. in the title-page. FARMER. See the Eſſay on the Order of Shakſpeare's plays, Article, King Jobn. MALONE. © bis pregnant dexteritie of wit and manifold varietie of inuention. ] Peele ſeems to have been taken into the patronage of the Earl of Northumberland about 1593, to whom he dedicates in that year, & The Honour of the Garter, a poem :gratulatorie—the Firftling con- ſecrated to his noble name.” — He was eſteemed, ſays EY 8 i | e God, In » $8 IG We? <8 x; 3 -**< 4 \ 1 1 1 : * oY 1 p 1 4. = 2 % 3 EY 8 . * 5 | 6 Why.” - % 3 - ate IN + . 1 g 3 f We, g's 4 2 iy 23 FJ 2 5 . s Ra, * ts 4 3 , 3 : , =, Y bs 8 2 Ty 11,8 * bh 3 bo: 5 I & * 2 8 8 bs”. 9% "I 1 1 *3B 3 : > 3 E * 7 '£ 2 2 9 "i be - 4709 bY. ” . 5D 1 3 br Os 6 . Wer 2% HT 923 4 wy 7 4 1 E oy 8 wy s EA = ** 2 7 A 3 Ja 79 5 OF SHAKSPEARE. 169 In the next place, unfortunately, there is neither ſuch a character as a Conſtable in the Midſummer Night's Dream : nor was the three hundred pounds legacy to a ſiſter, but a daughter. , | | And to cloſe the whole, it is not poſſible, according to Aubrey himſelf, that Shakſpeare could have been ſome years a ſchoolmaſter in the country: on which cir- cumſtance only the ſuppoſition of his learning is profeſſ- edly founded. He was not ſurely very young, when he was employed to fl calves, and he commenced player about eighteen /—The truth is, that he left his father, for a wife, a year ſooner; and had at leaſt two children born at Stratford before he retired from thence to Lon- don. It is therefore ſufficiently clear, that poor Anthony had too much reaſon for his character of Aubrey: we find it in his own account of his life, publiſhed by Hearne, which I would earneſtly recommend to any hy- pochondriack : Ef A pretender to antiquities, roving, magotie-headed, and ſometimes little better than craied : and being ex- Wood, a moſt noted poet, 1579; but when or where he died, I can- not tell, for ſo it is, and always hath been, that moſt PogTs die poor, and conſequently obſcurely, and a hard matter it is to trace them to their graves. Claruit 1599.” Atb. Oxon. Vol. I. p. 300. We had lately in a periodical pamphlet, called, The Theatrical Re- wViewy a very curious letter under the name of George Peele, to one Maſter Henrie Marle; relative to a diſpute between Shakſpeare and Alleyn, which was compromiſed by Ben Jonſon.—“ I never longed for thy companye more than laſt night; we were all verrie merie at the Globe, when Ned Alleyn did not ſcruple to affyrme pleaſauntly to thy friende Will, that he had ftolen hys ſpeeche about the excellencie of acting in Hamlet hys tragedye, from converſaytions manifold, whych had paſſed between them, and opinions gyven by Alleyn touchyng that ſubjete, Shakſpeare did not take this talk in good forte ; but Jonſon did put an ende to the ſtryfe wyth wittyelie ſaying, thys affaire needeth no contentione: you ſtole it from Ned no doubte: do not marvel ; haue you not ſeene hym acte tymes out of number ?”—This is pre- tended to be printed from the original MS, dated 1600; which agrees well enough with Wood's Claruit : but unluckily, Peele was dead at leaſt two years before. As Anacreon died by the pot, ſays Meres, ſo George Peele by the pox.” Wit's Treaſury, 1 598. p. 286. 8 | FARMER, ceedingly wo ADDITIONAL ANECDOTES, &c. ceedingly eredulous, would ſtuff his many letters ſent to A. W. with folliries and mifinformations.“ p. 577. FARMER. The late Mr. Thomas Oſborne, bookſeller, (whoſe exploits.are celebrated by the author of the Dunciad) being ignorant in what form or language our Paradi/e Loft was written, employed one of his garretteers to render it from a French tranſlation into Engliſh proſe, Leſt, hereafter, the compoſitions of Shakſpeare ſhould be brought back into their native tongue from the ver- ſion of Monfieur le Comte de Catuelan, le Tourneur, &c. it may be neceſſary to obſerve, that all the following particulars, extracted from the preface of theſe gentle- men, are as little founded in truth as their deſcription ' of the Jubilee at Stratford, which they have been taught to repreſent as an affair of general approbation and na- tional concern. | 4 They ſay, that Shakſpeare came to London without a plan, and finding himſelf at the. door of a theatre, in- ſtinctively ſtopped there, and offered himſelf to be a holder of horſes ;—that he was remarkable for his excel- lent performance of the Ghoſt in Hamlet:=that he borrowed nothing from preceding writers :—that all on a ſudden he left the ſtage, and returned without eclat into his native county :—that his monument at Stratford is of copper :—that the courtiers of James I. paid ſeveral compliments to him which are ſtill prefered s that he relieved a widow, who, together with her numerous family, was involved in a ruinous lawſuit: — that his editors have reſtored many paſſages in his plays, by the aſſiſtance of the manuſcripts he left behind him, &e. &c. Let me not however forget the juſtice due to thefe in- genious Prenchmen, whoſe ſkill and fidelity in the exe- cution of their very difficult undertaking, is only exceeded by ſuch a diſplay of eandour as would ſerve to cover the imperfections of much leſs elegant and judicious writers, STEEVENS. . B aptiſms, ” "ft 1 * « 1 > 2 W 5 4 = 8 *Y ** 4 vt "Me z * . IE Ro 1 bo 2 LF 730 5 4 + N 4 #3 2 * A 3 = A, *s . 2 75 [+ Fl 7 H * 8 2 x * 1 1 el N _—_ , 7 5 32 41 - 5 5 0 wr ve 5 2 FR | LY x £ = * - ö STRATFORD REGISTER. 171 Baptiſms, Marriages, and Burials of the Shakſpeare family; trranfcribed from the Regiſter- books of tha Pariſh of Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickſhire *. ONE, daughter of John Shakſpere, was baptized Sept. 15, 1558. ; Margaret, daughter of John Shakſpere, was buried April „ WILLIAM, ſon of John Shakſpere, was baptized April e | | Johanna, daughter of Richard Hathaway, otherwiſe Gardiner, of Shottery *, was baptized May 9, 1566. Gilbert, ſon of John Shakſpere, was baptized Oct. 13, 1556. | Jones, daughter of John Shakſpere, was baptized April 15, 1569. 5 Anne, Y An inaccurate and very imperfect liſt of the baptiſms, &c. of Shakſpeare's family was tranſmitted by Mr. Weſt about ten years ago to Mr. Steevens. The lift now printed I have extracted with great care from the Regiſters of Stratford; and I truſt, it will be found cor- rect. MALONE. | 2 This lady Mr. Weſt ſuppoſed to have married the anceſtor of the Harts of Stratford; but he was certainly miſtaken. She died pro- bably in her infancy. The wife of Mr. Hart was undoubtedly the ſecond Jone, mentioned below. Her ſon Michael was born in the latter end of the year 1608, at which time ſhe was above thirty- nine years old. The elder Jone would then have been near fifty. - : | Maron E. 3 He was born three days before, April 23, 1564. MALON E. 4 This Richard Hathaway of Shottery was probably the father of Anne Hathaway, our poet's wife, There is no entry of her _ baptiſm, the Regiſter not commencing till 1558, two years after ſhe was born. Thomas, the ſon of this Richard Hathaway, was bap- tized at Stratford, April 12, 1569; John, another ſon, Feb. 3, 15745 and William, another ſon, Nov. 30, 1578. MArONE. 5 It was common in the age of Queen Elizabeth to give the ſame chriſtian name to two children ſucceſfively. (Thus, Mr. Sadler, who was godfather to Shakfpeare's ſon, had two ſons, who were baptized by the name of Jobn. See note 6.) This was undoubtedly done in the preſent inſtance. The former Jone having probably died, (though Tcan find no entry of her burial in the Regiſter, nor indeed <1 75 x 4 of — _ Pw by - I „ STRATFORD REGISTER. Anne, daughter of Mr. John Shakſpere, was baptized Sept. 28, 1571. Richard, ſon of Mr. 25 Shakſpere, was baptized March „ 1093. [15 Anne, Caughtc 97 11 Mr. Tha Shakſpere, was buried April 4, 9. e ſon of Mr. John Shakſpere, was baptized May 3, 1580, Suſanna, daughter of WILLIAM SHAKSPERE, Was baptized May 26, 1583. Elizabeth, daughter of Anthony Shakſpere, of Hamp- ton *, was baptized Feb. 10, 1583. [1583-4] John Shakſpere and Margery Roberts were married Nov. 25, 1584» Hamnet ® and Judith, ſon and daughter of WILLIAU SHAKSPERE, Were baptized February 2, 1584. [158 l Margery, of many of the other children of John Shakſpeare) the name of Jone, a very favourite one in thoſe days, was transferred to another new- born child. This latter Jone married Mr. William Hart, a hatter in Stratford, ſome time, as I conjecture, in the year 1599, when ſhe was thirty years old; for her eldeſt ſon William was baptized there, Auguſt 28, 1600. There is no entry of her marriage in the Regiſter, MALONE. * There was alſo a Mr. Henry Shakſpeare ſettled at Hampton- Lucy, as appeacs from the Regiſter of that pariſh: 1582 Lettice, daughter of Henry Shakſpeare, was baptized. 1585 — James, ſon of Henry Shakſpeare, was baptized. 1589—— James, ſon of Henry Shakſpeare, was buried. There was a Thomas Shakſpeare ſettled at Warwick; for in the Rolls-Chapel I tound the inrolment of a deed made jn the 44th year of Queen Elizabeth, conveying © to Thomas Shakſpeare of Warwick, yeoman, Sachbroke, alias Biſhop-Sachbroke, in Com. Warw.” MALONE. 6 Mr. Weſt imagined that our poet's only ſon was chriſtened by the name of Samuel, but he was miſtaken, Mr. Hamnet Sadler, who was related, if J miſtake not, to the Shakſpeare family, appears to have been ſponſor for his ſon; and his wife, Mrs. Judith Sadler, to have been godmother to Judith, the other twin-child. The name Hamnet is written very diſtinctly both in the entry of the baptiſm and burial of this child. Hamnet and Hamlet ſeem to have been conſidered as the ſame name, and to have been uſed indiſcriminately both in ſpeak- 5 ng 3” : 58 - = 7 * v4 x 434 . 8 & 3 _ ff 2 ME"... "5 be”, * E WW bt} 3, 27 £4 0s, £ X03 "LED - WS» "28 ——ä— ++, 7 * * = 1 „ 3 „ 1 : a == By + —_—: E; = 4% "85 4 x 7 v - 1 3 # We "8 _ 9 2 : 2 h 55 09.4 q - I I ov 1 2 2 4 MX 2 9 1 3 ee 32% 235 2 a 3 "5 2 EY _—__ - 3 uy 1 RD. T a5, "Ms . 1 8 SY <5. - 7 8 E444 XL: AR FS = * Er” 3h" * 3 * 3 * by F 4: 5 mw 7% 7 ** * x 5 2 X 2 c 7? STRATFORD REGISTER 173 Margery, wife of John Shakſpere, was buried Oct. 29, 1587. | Thomas ſon of Richard Queeny, was baptized Feb. 26, 1588. [1588-9.] | Urſula s, daughter of John Shakſpere, was baptized March 11, 1588. [1588-9.] | | On 85 Thomas, ing and writing. Thus, this Mr. Hamnet Sadler, who is a witneſs to Shakſpeare's Will, writes his chiiftian name Hamnet; but the ſcrivener who drew up the will, writes it Hamlet. There is the ſame variation in the Regiſter of Stratford, where the name is ſpelt in three or four difterent ways. Thus, among the baptiſms we find, in 1591, ©* May 26, John, filius Hamletti Sadler;” and in 1583, « Sept. 13, Margaret, daughter to Hamlet Sadler.” But in 1588, Sept, 20, we find “ John, ſon to Hamnet Sadler;” in 1596, April 4, we have & Judith, filia Hamnett Sadler ;” in 1597-8, % Feb, 3, Wil- helmus, filius Hambnet Sadlerz” and in 1599, * April 23, Francis, filius Hamnet Sadler.“ This Mr. Sadler died in 1624, and the en- try of his burial ſtands thus: „ 1624, Oct. 26, Hamlet Sadler.” So alſo in that of his wife: „1613, March 23, Judith, uxor Hamlet Sadler.“ a The name of Hamlet occurs in ſeveral other entries in the Regiſter, Oct. 4, 1576, „Hamlet, fon to Humphry Holdar,” was buried; and Sept. 28, 1564, © Catharina, uxor Hamoleti Haſſal.“ Mr. Hamlet Smith, formerly of the borough of Stratford, is one of the benefac- tor's annually commemorated there. Our poet's only ſon, Hamnet, died in 1596, in the twelfth year of his age, MALONE. ö 7 This gentleman married our poet's youngeſt daughter. He had three ſiſters, Elizabeth, Anne, and Mary, and five brothers; Adrian born in 1586, Richard born in 1587, William born in 1593, John in 1597, and George, born April 9, 1600, George was Curate of the pariſh of Stratford, and died of a conſumption. He was buried there April 11, 1624, In Doctor Hall's pocket-book is the follow. ing entry relative to him. © 38. Mr. Quiney, tuffi gravi cum magna phlegmatis copia, et cibi vomitu, feb. lenta debilitatus,” &c, The caſe concludes thus. © Anno ſeq, (no year is mentioned in the caſe, but the preceding caſe is dated 1624, in hoc malum incidebat. Multa fruſtra tentata; - placide cum Domino dormit, Fuit boni indolis, et pro juveni omnifariam doctus MaLoNnE. | | 8 This Urſula, and her brothers, Humphrey, and Philip, appear to have been the children of John Shakſpeare by Mary, his third wife, though no ſuch marriage is entered in the Regiſter. I have not been able to learn her ſurname, or in what church ſhe was married. She died in Sept. 1608. It 5 * —— ̃ —-—j — — —ẽ — — — — — — 7 —— 174 STRATFORD REGISTER. Thomas Greene, alias Shakſpere?, was buried March 6; 1589. [1589-90.] a, ſon of John Shakſpere, was baptized May 1590 Philip. fon of John Shakſpere, was baptized Sept. 21, 1591: Thomas“, ſon of Mr. Anthony Naſh, was baptized June 20, 1593. Hamnet, ſon of WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, V was buried Aug. 11, 1596. - - It has been ſuggeſted to me that the John Shakſpeare here men- tioned was an elder brother of our poet, (not his father,) born, like Margaret Shakſpeare, before the commencement of the Regiſter : but had this been the caſe, he probably would have been called John be younger, old Mr. Shakſpeare being alive in 1589. I am therefore of opinion that our poet's father was meant, and that he was thrice married. MALONE. 9 A great many names occur in this Regiſter, with an alias, the meaning of which it is not very eaſy to aſcertain. I ſhould have ſop- poſed. that the perſons thus deſcribed were illegitimate, and that this Thomas Greene. was the ſon of one of our poet's kinſmen, by a daughter of Thomas Greene, eſq, a gentleman who refided in Strat- ford; but that in the regiſter we frequently find the word baſtard expreſsly added to the names of the children baptized. Perhaps this latter form was only uſed in the caſe of ſervants, labourers, &c. and the illegitimate offspring of the higher orders was more delicately de- noted by an alias. The Rev. Mr. Davenport obſerves to me that there are two families at preſent in Stratford, (and probably ſeveral more,) that are diſtin- guiſhed by an alias. © The real name of one of theſe families is Roberts, but they generally go by the name of Burford. The an- ceſtor of the family came originally from Burford in Oxfordſhire, and was frequently called from this circumſtance by the name of Burford, This name has prevailed, and they are always now called by it; but they write their name, Roberts, alias Burford, and are fo entered in the Regiſter. «© The real name of the other family is Smith, but they are more known by the name of Buck. The anceſtor of this family, from ſome circumſtance or other, obtained the nickname of Buck, and they now write themſelves, Smith, alias Buck.” MALORNE. 1 This gentleman married our poet's grand-daughter, Elizabeth Hall. His father, Mr. Anthony Naſh, lived at Welcombe, (where he had an eſtate,) as appears by the following entry of the-baptiſm of another of his ſons, ' „1598, Ot, 15, John, fon to Mr. Anthony Nath, of Welcombe,” MaLoxk. William, 9 * * . 3 4% 1 5 9 2 3 by > i, fo * 1 7 7 bee 224 "58 + 90 7 > 8 + 2 2 2 1 _ 2 28 bb 1 WS 7 Kos Pl E R. f 4 5 * 4%; 3. 1 3 £ 6:74 2 1 185 4 7 2 ener RO : 5 Mae 8 STRATFORD REGISTER. 175 William, ſon of William Hart, was baptized Aug. 28, 1600. | Mr. John Shakſpeare was buried Sept. 8, 1601. Mr. Richard Quiney *, Bailiff of Stratford, was buried May 31, 1602. . Mary, daughter of William Hart, was baptized June 5, 1603. Thomas. ſon of William Hart, hatter, was baptized July 24, 160g. | John Hall, gentleman, and Suſanna Shakſpere were married June 5, 1607, - Mary, daughter of William Hart, was buried Dec. 17, 1607, | Elizabeth, daughter of John Hall, gentleman, was bap- tized Feb. 21, 1607. [1607-8.] Mary Shakſpere, widow, was buried Sept. 9, 1608, Michael, ſon of William Hart, was baptized Sept. 23, 1608. | | Gilbert Shakſpere, adoleſcens*, was buried Feb. 3, 1611. [1611-12.] Richard Shakſpere was buried Feb. 4, 1612. [1612-13] Thomas Queeny and judith Shakſpere * were married Feb. 10, 1615. [1615-16.] | 15 | | William 2 This was the father of Mr. Thomas Quiney, who married Shak- fpeare's youngeſt daughter. MaLonE. | * This was probably a ſon of Gilbert Shakſpeare, our poet's bro- ther. When the elder Gilbert died, the Regiſter does not inform us; but he certainly died before his fon. MaLoNE. 3 This lady, who was our poet's youngeſt daughter, appears to have married without her father's knowledge, for he mentions her in his will as unmarried. Mr. Weſt, as I have already obſerved, was miſ- taken in ſuppoſing ſhe was married in Feb. r616, that is, in 1616-17. She was certainly married before her father's death. See a former note in p. 151, in Which the entry is given exactly as it Rands in the Regiſter, | | As Shakſpeare the poet married his wife from Shottery, Mr. Weſt conjectured he might have become poſſeſſed of 2a remarkable bouſe and jointly with his wife conveyed it as part of their daughter Judith's portion to Thomas Queeny. It is certain, Mr. Weſt adds, „that ane Queeny, an elderly gentleman, fold it to — Harvey, eſq. of Stockton, near Southam, Warwickſhire, father of John Harvey Thurſby, 156 STRATFORD REGISTER. William Hart, hatter“, was buried April 17, 1616, WILLIAM SHAKSPERE 5, gentleman, was buried | April 25 ®, 1616. Shakſpere, fon of Thomas Quiney, gentleman, „was bap- tized Nov. 23, 1616. Shakſpere, ſon of Thomas Quiney, gentleman, was buried May 8, 1617. Richard, ſon of 'Thomas Quiney, was baptized Feb. 9, 1617. fon of 18.4 Thomas, ſon of Thomas Quiney, was baptized Aug. 29, 16190. 9 Naſh, Eſq 7, was buried Nov. 18, 1622, Mrs. Shakſpeare * was buried Aug. 8, 1623. Mr. Thomas Naſh was married to Mrs. Elizabeth Hall, April 22, 1626, Thomas“, ſon of Thomas Hart, was + 7799s April i 3» 16 34. 'Thurſby, efq. of Abington, near Northampton; and that the afore- faid Harvey ſold it again to Samuel Tyler, eſq. whole fitters, as his | heirs, now enjoy it.” But how could Shakſpeare have conveyed this houſe, if he ever owned it, to Mr. Queeny, as a marriage portion with his daughter, concerning whom there is the following clauſe in his will, executed one month before his death : Provided that if ſuch hofband as ſhe ſhall at the end of the ſaid three years be married unto,” &. MALONE. 4 This William Hart was our poet's brother-in-law. He died, it appears, a few days before Shakſpeare. MALONE. 5 He died, as appears from his monument, April 23d. MaroxEe. © No one hath protracted the life of Shakſpeare beyond 1616, ex- cept Mr, Hume; who is pleaſed to add a year to it, cuntrary to all manner of evidence. FARMER. 7 Father of Mr. Thomas Naſh, the huſband of Elizabeth Hall. | MALONE. 3 This lady, who was the poet's widow, and whoſe maiden name was Anne Hathaway, died, as appears from her tomb-ſtone (ſee p. 105, n. 4.) at the age of 67, and conſequently was near eight years older than her huſband. I have not been able to aſcertain when or where they were married, but ſuſpect the ceremony was performed at Hamp- ton-Lucy, or Billeſley, in Auguſt 1582, The regiſter of the latter pariſh is loſt, MALONE. * It appears from Lady Barnard's Will that this Thomas Hart was alive in 1669. The Regiſter does not aſcertain the time of his death, nor that of his father. MATONx. D Fe STRATFORD REGISTER ry; Pr. John Hallo, [<< medicus peritifimus,””] was buried Nov. 26, 165 5. George, ſon of Thomas Hart, was bags Sept. 18, 1636. 1 ſon of Thomas Quiney, was buried Jan. 28, 1638. [1638-9.] Richard, ſon 50 0 Quiney, was buried Feb. 26, + nan. [| 538 -9, William Hart * was buried March 29, 1639. Mary, daughter of Thomas Hart, was baptized xi 1, . Joan Hart; widow, was bitch Nov. 4, 1646. Thomas Naſh, Eſq. was buried April 5, 1647. Mrs, Suſanna Hall, widow, was buried July 16, 643. Mr. * 9 It has been ſuppoſed that the family of Miller of Hide-Hall in the county of Herts, were deſcended from Dr. Hall's daughter Eliza- * beth; and to prove this fact, the following pedigree was tranſmitted ſome years ago by Mr, Whalley to Mr. Steevens : Joo Hall=Sofanns, daughter and co-heireſs of I William Shakſpeare, Elizabeth Hall— Thomas Naſh, Eſq» = Reginald Foſter, of Warwickſhire. ns as. A F ranked Miller — Jane F FT of Hide-Hall, _ Co. Hertford. — Nicholas Miller Mary. - 4 | 3 - 5 | . : Nicholas Franklyn Miller of - Hide-Hall, the only ſurviv- ing branch of the family of Miller. But this pedigree ! is founded on 2 take, and there is undoubted- ly no lineal deſcendant of Shakſpeare now living, The miſtake was, Vos, I. [MJ] the » CN — ED —— — — —— — | | | | 118 STRATFORD REGISTER. — May 23, 1656. Mr. Richard Queeny“, Gent. of London, was buried Mr. the ſuppoſing that Sir Reginald Forſter married a daughter of Mr, Themas Naſh and Elizabeth Hall, who had no iflue, either by that gentleman or her ſecond huſband, Sir John Barnard. Sir Reginald Farſter married the daughter of Edward Nath, Eſq. of Eaſt Green- wich in the county of Kent, couſin-gei1man ia Mr, Thomas Nath ; and the pedigree ought to have been formed thus: S : __—— - | Anthony 5 88 | | George Nahe 5 2 | Tho. Naſh—=Elizabeth Hall— Sir John Barnard, 1 Naſh — | ll —_ yh 1 [ . 19 Naſh, Jane Naſh, Mary Naſh—Reginald Forſter, Eſq, aſterwards Sir Regi- nald Forſter, Bart. Reginald Forſter. Mary Forſter. Franklyn Miller—Jaad Forſter, 0 of Hide-Hall, | Co. Hertford, | 5 [ be Will. Norcliffe, Eſq.=Jane Miller. Nicholas r — — | | : — Nicholas Franklyn Miller, —| | ET | —— Mundy, 1 Miller. — de 13 Miller Mundy, Eſq. the preſent owner of Hide-Hall. That I am right in this ſtatement, appears from the will of Edward Naſh, (ſee p. 134, n. 7.) and from the following inſcription on a mo- nument in the church of Stratford, erected ſome time after the year 1733, by Jane Norcliffe, the wife of. William Noreliffe, Eſq. and only daughter of Franklyn Miller, by Jane Forſter ; STRATFORD REGISTER. 179 | George Hart, ſon of Thomas Hart, was married by Francis Smyth, Juſtice of peace, to Helter Ludiate, daughter of Thomas Ludiate, Jan. 9, 1057: [1657-8.] Elizabeth, daughter of George Hart, was baptized Jan. 9, 1658. [1658-9.] oo Jane, daughter of George Hart, was baptized Dec. 21, : 1661. | Judith, wife of Thomas Quiney, Gent. was buried | Feb. 9, 1661. [ 1661-62. ] | Suſanna, daughter of George Hart, was baptized March 18, 1663. [1663-4] _ | Shakſpeare, ion of George Hart, was baptized Nov. 18, 1666, | Mary, daughter of George Hart, was baptized March 31, 1671. | | ec Beneath lye interred the body's of Sir Reginald Forſter, Baronet, and dame Mary his wife, daughter of Edward Naſh of Eaſt Green- wich, in the county of Kent,“ &c. For this inſcription I am in- debted to the kindneſs of the Rev. Mr. Davenport, Vicar of Strat- ford-upon-Avon. | BY” Reginald Forſter, Eſq. who lived at Greenwich, was created a baronet, May 4, 1661. His ſon Reginald, who married Miſs Naſh, ſucceeded to the title on the death of his father, ſome time after the year 1679. Their only ſon, Reginald, was buried at Stratford Aug. 10, 1685, be? | Mrs. Elizabeth Nath was married to her ſecond huſband, Sir John Barnard, at Billeſley, about three miles from Stratford-uponi- Avon, June 5, 1649, and was buried at Abington in the county of Nor- thampton, Feb. 17, 1669-70; and with her the family of pur poet became extint, MAL ONE. | | | 1 Ihe eldeſt ſon of Joan Hart, our poet's ſiſter. J have not found .any entry in the Regiſter of the deaths of his brothers Thomas and Michael Hart. The latter, I ſuſpect, ſettled in London; and was perhaps the father of Charles Hart, the celebrated tragedian, who, I believe, was born about the year 1630. MALoNE. This gentleman was born in 1587, and was brother to Thomas Quirey, who married Shakſpeare's youngeſt daughter, It does not appear when Thomas Quiney died, There is a defect in the Regiſter during the years 1642, 1643, and 1644; and another /acuna from March 17, to Nov. 18, 1663. Our poet's ſon-iq-law probably died in the latter of thoſe periods; for his wife, who died in Feb. 16b1-2, in the Regiſter of Burials for that year is deſcribed thus: * Judith, uxor Thomas Quiney.” Had her huſband been then dead, the woul have been denominated vidua. MALuNFo | © = Ba. _ George, x end et ery nn 10 STRATFORD REGISTER. Thomas, ſon of George Hart, was baptized March 3, 1673. [1673-4] | George, ſon of George Hart, was baptized Aug. 20, 1676. Margaret Hart 3, widow, was buried Nov. 28, 1682. Daniel Smith and Suſanna Hart were married April 16, 1 608. 4694. William e ſon of Shakſpeare Hart, was bap- tied Sept. 14, 1695. 1 5 of Gene Hart, was buried April 29s £7 Anne, 8 of Sbakſpeate and Anne mo, was „ .. baptized Aug. 9. 1700.. - George, ſon 'of George and Mary Hart, was baptized OV. 29, 1700. George Hart“ was buried May 3, 1702. Heſter, daughter of George Hart, was baptized Fob: 1 10; 1702. | 1702-3. Catharine, daughter of Shakſpeare a and Anne Hart, was , - baptized July 19, 1703. Mary, daughter of George Hart, was baptized 08. 7 1705. ity; wit of George Hart, was buried Oct. 7, 170g. George Hart was married to Sarah Mountford, Feb. 20, 15728. [1728-9.] | Thomass, — of George Hart, Jan. was baptized May 95 1729. Sarah, 2 of George Hart, was baptized Sept. 29, 1733. Anne, bebt. of Shakſpeare Hart, was buried March 29, . 8 3 probably the wiſe of Thomas Hart, who muſt "ri been mt in or before the year 1633. The marriage ceremony was not performed at Stratford, there being no entry of it in the Reg ziſter. MArTox E. ; + He was born in 1636. Matowe. This Thomas Hart, who is the fifch in deſcent from Joan Hart, dur poet's ſiſter, is now (1788) living at rations in the houſe in Fhich Shakſpeare was ne. MATER Ea. | 4 ; . $76 £1 Anne, Shakſpeare Le was married to Anne Throw _ 10, 8 RAT ORD REGISTER, I Anat daughter of George Wart- was baptized Sept. 29, William s Shakſpeare, ſon of William Shakſpeare Hart, was baptized Jan. 8, :1743.- (1743-4 = IR William Shakſpeare, ſon of William "Sh ſpeare Hart, was buried March 8, 1744. [1744-5-] EP William, ſon of George Hart, was buried April 28, 1745+. George Hart“ was buried Aug. 29, 1745 Thomas, ſon of William Shakſpeare Hart, was buried March 12, 1746. [1746-7.] Shakſpeare Hart 7 was buried July 7, 1747. es Catharine, daughter of inen Shakipeare Hart, was baptized May 10, 1748. William ee eg ne 75 was buried 27 1 28. 1749. 1749-50. The widow Halte was bodied July 10, 17963; John, ſon of Thomas Hart, was baptized Aug. 18, 1755. Anne, daughter of Shakſpeare and Anne Hart, was buried Feb. 5, 1760. Frances, daughter of Thomas Hart, was baptized Avg. 8; 1760. : Thomas, ſon of Thomas Hart, Was s baptized Aug. 10, 1764. Anne, daughter of Thomas Han Was s baptized Jan, 16, 176 ** 17 7. Sarah, daughter of George Hart, was buried Sept. 10, 1768. | om na, , of Thomas Hart, was buried OR, 37, 1774. George Hart! was buried July 8, I 778. i 6 He was born in 1676, and was great grandſon to Joan Hart. MALON R. 2 He n born in 1666, nod was alſo great grandſon to 85 Hart. ATR. 2 He » was born in 1695; AM tent. 9 This abſurd mode of entry ſeems to have been bee for tho purpoſe of concealment rather than information; for by the omiſſion of the chriſtian name; it is ĩmpoſſi ble to aſcertain from the Regiſter, who was meant. The perſon here deſcribed was, I believe, Anne, the widow of Shakſpeare Hart, who died in 1747. MALONE, He was born in 1700. M ALONE. [M 3] SHAK- estate.“ MaALoNE. SHAKSPEARE'S COAT OF ARMS. The following inſtrument * is copied from the original in the College of Heralds: It is marked G. 13. pr ns 98 5 all and ſinguler noble and gentlemen of all 1 eſtats and degrees, bearing arms, to whom theſe preſents ſhall come, William Dethick, Garter, Princi- pall King of Arms of England, and William Camden, alias Clarencieulx, King of Arms for the ſouth, eaſt, and welt parts of this realme, ſendethe greeting. Know ye, that in all nations and kingdoms the record and remem-- braunce of the valeant facts and vertuous diſpoſitions of worthie men have been made knowne and divulged by certeyne ſhields of arms and tokens of chevalrie ; the grant and teſtemonie whereof apperteyneth unto us, by vertu of our offices from the Quenes moſt Exc. Ma- jeſtie, and her Highenes moſt noble and victorious gay wherefore being ſolicited, and by credi- le. report informed, that John Shakſpeare, now of Stratford-upon-Avon, in the counte of Warwick, gent. whoſe parent, great grandfather, and late anteceſſor, for his faithefull and approved ſervice to the late moſt pru- dent prince, wins ee VII. of famous memorie, was advaunced and rewarded with lands and tenements, geven 8 to him in thoſe parts of Warwiekſhere, where they have continewed by ſome deſcents in good reputacion and 1 In the Herald's Office are the firſt draughts of John Shakſpeare's grant or confirmation of arms, by William Dethick, Garter, Princhpal King at Arms, 1596. See Vincent's Preſs, Vol. 157, No 23, and 24. 3 F f Sr REZVNNS. In a Manuſcript in the College of Heralds, marked W. z. p. 276, is the following note: As for the ſpeare in bend, it is a patible difference, and the perſon to whom it was granted hath borne ma- giſtracy, and was juſtice of peace at Stratford-upon-Avon. He mar- ried the daughter and heire of Arderne, and was able to maintain that credits $M = n « # 0 <8 wt." 2 d 7 i SHAKSPEARE'S COAT OF ARMS. 18; credit; and for that the ſaid John Shakſpeare having maryed the daughter and one of tlie heyrs of Robert Arden of Wellingcote, in the ſaid countie, and alſo produced this his auncient cote of arms, heretofore aſ- ftigned to him whileſt he was her Majeſties officer and baylefe of that towne *; In conſideration of the premiſſes, and for the encouragement of his potteritie, unto whom ſuche blazon of arms and achevements of 1inher:tance from theyre ſaid mother, by the auncyent cuſtome and lawes of arms, maye lawfully deſcend; We the ſaid Garter and Clarencieulx have aſſigned, graunted, and by theſe preſents exemplefied unto the faid John Shak» ſpeare, and to his poſteritie, that ſhield and cote of arms, wiz, In a field of gould upon à bend ſables a ſpeare of the firft, the poynt upward, hedded argent; and for his crett or cogniſance, A falcon with his wyngs diſplayed, flant- ing on a wrethe of his coullers, ſupporting a ſpeare armed hedded, or ſteeled fylver, fyxed uppon a helmet with mantell and taſſel!s, as more playnely maye appeare de- pected on this margent ; and we have likewiſe uppon on other eſcucheon impaled the ſame with the auncyent arms of the ſaid Arden“ of Wellingcote ; ſignifieng therby, that it maye and ſhalbe lawfull for the ſaid John Shakſpeare, gent. to beare and uſe the ſame ſhield 2 — bis auncient cote of arms, heretofore aſſigned to him whileſt he ev2s her Majeſties officer and baylefe of that togune;] This grant of arms was made by —— Cook, Clarencieux, in 1569, but is not now ex- tant in the Herald's-Office. MALONE. 3 — and we have likewiſe—impaled the ſame with the auncyent arms of the ſaid Arden—] It is ſaid by the modern editor of Arden of Fe ver- ſham (firſt publiſhed in 1592 and reoubliſhed in 1770) that Shakſpeare deſcended by the fema'e line trom the gentleman whoſe unfortunate end is the ſubject of this tragedy. But the aſſertion appears to want ſup- port, the true name of the perſon who was murdered at Feverſham being Ardern and not Arden. Ardern might be called Arden in the play for the lake of better ſound, or might be corrupted in the chronicle of Holinthed ; yet it is unlikely that the true ſpelling ſhould be overlook- ed among the Heraids, whoſe intereſt it is to recommend by oſtenta- tious accuracy the trifles in which they deal. STEEveEns. Ardern was the original name, but in Shakſpeare's time it had been ſoftened to Arden. See p. 103. n. 1. MALONE. „„ 3 184 SHAKSPEARE'S COAT OF ARMS: of arms, fingle or impaled,” as aforſaid, during his naturall lyffe; and that it ſhalbe lawfull for his chil. dren, yſſue, and poſteryte, (lawfully begotten,) to beare, uſe, and quarter, and ſhow forth the ſame, with theyre dewe differences, in all lawfull warlyke facts and civile uſe or exerciſes, according to the. lawes of arms, and cuſtome that to gentlemen belongethe, without let or interuption of any perſon or perſons, for uſe or bearing the ſame. In wyttneſſe and teſtemonye whereof we have ſubſcrebed our names, and faſtened the ſeals of our offices, geven at the Office of Arms, London, the | dayof in the xlii yere of the reigne of our moſt gratious Sovraigne lady Elizabeth, by the grace of God, s of Ingland, France, and Ireland, defender of tl e faith, &c. 1599. . ; 1 75 5 SHAKSPEARE'S SHAKSPEARE'S WILL; h From the oR1IGINAL In the Office of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury. | Ficefimo quinto die Martii*, Anno Regni Domini noſtri Ja- cobi nunc Regis Angliz, Ac. decimo quarto, et Scotia quadrage/imo nono. Anno Domini 1610. N the name of God, Amen. I William Shakſpeare of Stratford-upon- Avon, in the county of Warwick. gent. in perfect health and memory, (God be praiſed!) do make and ordain this my laſt will and teſtament in manner and form following; that is to ſay: Fir, I commend my ſoul into the hands of God my creator, hoping, and affuredly beheving, through the only merits of Jeſus Chriſt my Saviour, to be made par- taker of life everlaſting; and my body to the earth whereof it is made. {iem, I give and bequeath unto my daughter Judith one hundred and fifty pounds of lawful Engliſh money, to be paid unto her in manner and form following ; that is to {ay, one hundred poands in diſcharge of her mar- riage portion within one year after my deceaſe, with conſideration after the rate of two ſhillings in the pound for fo long time as the ſame ſhall be unpaid unto her after my deceaſe; and the fifty pounds reſidue thereof, upon her ſurrendering of, or giving of ſuch ſufficient ſecurity as the overſeers of this my will ſhall like of, to ſurrender or grant, all her eſtate and right that ſhall de- ſeend or come unto her after my deceaſe, or that ſhe now hath, of, in, or to, one copyhold tenement, with the appurtenances, lying and being in Stratford-upon- Avon aforeſaid, in the ſaid county of Warwick, being parcel or holden of the manor of Rowington, unto my daughter Suſanna Hail, and her heirs for ever. | Item, I give and bequeath unto my ſaid daughter Judith one hundred es fifty pounds more, if .ſhe, or any iſſue of her body, be living at the end of three years 1 Our poet's will appears to have been drawn up in February, though not executed till the following month; for February was firſt written, and afterwards ſtruek out, and March written over it. MALONE. Vor. I. LM 5] 5 next [4 — — — entre 3 > 69 : ; 1 * . n . . 186 SHAKSPEARE'S WILL. next enſuing the day of the date of this my will, during which time my executors to pay her conſideration from, my deceaſe according to the rate aforeſaid: and if ſhe die within the ſaid term without iſſue of her body, then my will is, and I do give and bequeath one hundred pounds thereof to my niece * Elizabeth Hall, and the fifty pounds to be ſet forth by my executors during the life of my ſiſter Joan Hart, and the uſe and profit thereof coming, ſhall be paid to my ſaid ſiſter Joan, and after her deceaſe the ſaid fifty pounds ſhall remain amongſt the children of my ſaid ſiſter, equally to be divided amongſt them ; but if my ſaid daughter Judith be living; at the end of the ſaid three years, or any iſſue of her body, then my wall is, and ſo I deviſe and bequeath the ſaid hundred and fifty pounds to be ſet out by my execu- tors and overſeers for the beſt benefit of her and her iſſue, and the ſtock not to be paid unto her ſo long as ſhe ſhall be married and covert baron; but my will is, that ſhe ſhall have the conſideration yearly paid unto her during her life, and after her deceale the ſaid ſtock and conſideration to be paid to her children, if ſhe have any, and if not, to her executors or aſſigns, ſhe living the ſaid term after my deceaſe: provided that if ſuch huſband as ſhe ſhall at the end of the ſaid three years be married unto, or at any [time] after, do ſufficiently aſſure unto her, and the iſſue of her body, lands anſwerable to the ortion by this my will given unto her, and to be ad- Judged ſo by my executors and overſeers, then my will is, that the ſaid hundred and fifty pounds ſhall be paid to ſuch huſband as ſhall make ſuch aſſurance, to his own uſe. Item, I give and bequeath unto my ſaid ſiſter Joan twenty pounds, and all my wearing apparel, to be paid and delivered within one year after my deceaſe; and I do will and deviſe unto her the houſe, with the appur- tenances, in Stratford, wherein ſhe dwelleth, for her natural life, under the yearly rent of twelve-pence. Item, I give and bequeath unto her three ſons, William 2 —to my niece —] Elizabeth Hall was our poet's grand-daughter. So, in. Otclello, Act I. ic. i. Iago ſays to Brabantio, “ You'll have your nep bexus neigh to you 3” meaning his grand- children. See the note there, MAL9NE« | Har fn * * a a eld ern 23ers means, | nit „ Mi Woe TT En TNA ID. 1 IF ONES 3 hs 65. v3 * n n r Canes ; on 4 * 4 — wa "AT a 4 n SITS > 994 all $4354 3558 - Ml 22 1 eb dt a N 8 * — — 2 e AF 1 8 v N 7 FO 1 N 3 u Fine Fe I p ** I E Wn RY RL Batt AT r 1 ».. ? 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HIS INDENTURE made the eleaventh day of March, in the yeares of the reigne of our Sove- reigne Lorde James, by the grace of God, king of England, Scotland, Fraunce, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. that is to ſay, of England, Fraunce and Ireland the tenth, and of Scotland the fix-ande fortith; Between William Shakeſpeare of Stratford- upon-Avon, in the Countie of Warwick, gentleman, William Johnſon, Citizen and Vintener of London, John Jackſon, and John Hemyng of London, gentle- men, of thone partie, and Henry Walker, Citizen and Minſtrell of London, of thother partie; Witneſſeth, that the ſaid William Shakeſpeare, William Johnſon, John Jackſon, and John Hemyng, have demited, graunted, and to ferme letten, and by theis preſents do demiſe, graunt, and to ferme lett unto the ſaid Henry Walker, all that dwelling-houſe or tenement, with thappurte- naunts, ſituate and being within the precinct, circuit and compaſſe of the late Black firyers, London, ſome- tymes in the tenure of James Gardyner, Eſquire, and fince that in the tenure of John Forteſcue,. gent. and now or late being in the tenure or occupation of one William Ireland, or of his aſſignee or aſſignes; abut- ting upon a ſtreete leading downe to Puddle Wharfe, on the eaſt part, right againſt the kings Majeſties Ward- robe; part of which ſaid tenement is erected over a greate gate leading to a capitall meſſuage, which ſome- tyme was in the tenure of William Blackwell, Eſquire, deceaſed, and ſince that in the tenure or occupation of the right honourable Henry now Earle of Northumber- lande: And alſo all that plott of ground on the welt fide of the ſame tenement, which was lately incloſed with boords on two ſides thereof, by Anne Baton, widow, ſoe farre and in ſuch ſorte as the ſame was incloſed by the ſaid Anne Baton, and not otherwiſe; and being on Vol. f. 81 [N] the „ — —— — CC — — — — ——§m4ʒ A DAI — :t᷑:i᷑ „ — —— —ꝓ——UUk'Im[—H— x — 164 SHAKSPEARE'S MORT GAGE. the third fide incloſed with an ald brick wall; which ſaid plott of ground was ſometyme parcell and taken out of a great voyde peece of ground lately uſed for a gar- den ; and alſo the ſoyle whereupon the ſaid tenement ſtandeth; and alfo the ſaid brick wall and boords which doe incloſe the ſaid platt of ground; with free entrie, acceſie, ingreſſe, egreſſe, and regreſſe, in, by, and through, the ſaid great gate and yarde there, unto the ufual dore of the ſaid tenement : And allo all and ſingu- lar cellors, ſollers, romes, lights, eafiaments, profitts, commodities, and appurtenaunts whatſoever to the ſaid dwelling-houſe or tenement belonging or in any wiſe apperteyning : 'FO HAVE and to HOLDE the ſaid dwelling-houſe or tenement, cellers, ſollers, romes, plott of ground, and all and ſingular other the pre- miſſes above by theis preſents mentioned to bee de- miſed, and every part and parcell thereof, with thap- purtenaunts, unto the faid Henry Walker, his executors, adminiſtrators and aſſignes, from the feaſt of thannund- cCiacon of the bleſſed Virgin Marye next coming after the date hereof, unto thende and terme of One hundred yeares from thence next enſuing, and fullie to be com- pleat and ended, withoute impeachment of, or for, any manner of waſte: VELDING and paying therefore yearlie during the ſaid terme unto the faid William Shakeſpeare, William Johnſon, John Jackſon, and John Hemyng, their heires and aſſignes, a pepper corne at the feaſt of Eaſter yearly, yf the ſame be lawfullie de- maunded, and noe more. PROVIDED alwayes, that if the ſaid William Shakeſpeare, his heires, executors, adminiſtrators or aſſignes, or any of them, doe well and trulie paie or cauſe to be paid to the ſaid Henry Walker, his executors, adminiſtrators or aflignes, the ſome of threeſcore pounds of lawfull money of England, in and upon the nyne and twentith day of September next coming after the date hereof, at, or in, the nowe dwelling-houſe of the ſaid Henry Walker, ſituate and being in the pariſh of Saint Martyn neer Ludgate, of London, at one entier payment without delaie; That then and from thenesforth this preſente leaſe, demife and | | graunt, 8H AKS PEARE'S MORTGAGE. 195 graunt, and all and every matter and thing herein con- teyned (other then this proviſoe, ) ſhall ceaſe, determine, and bee utterlie voyde, fruſtrate, and of none effect, as though the ſame had never beene had, ne made; theis preſents or any thing therein conteyned to the contra thereof in any wiſe notwithſtanding. And the ſaid Wil- liam Shakeſpeare for himſelfe, his heires, executors, and adminiſtrators, and for every of them, doth covenaunt, promiſſe and graunt to, and with, the ſaid Henry Walker, his executors, adminiſtrators, and aflignes, and everie of them, by theis preſentes, that he the ſaid William Shakeſpeare, his heires, executors, adminiſtrators or aſſignes, ſhall and will cleerlie acquite, exonerate and diſcharge, or from tyme to tyme, and at all tymes hereafter, well and ſufficientlie ſave and keepe harmleſs the ſaid Henry Walker, his executors, adminiſtrators, and aflignes, and every of them, and the ſaid premiſſes by theis preſents demiſed, and every parcell thereof, with thappurtenaunts, of and from all and al manner of former and other bargaynes, ſales, guiftes, graunts, leaſes, jointures, dowers, intailes, ſtatuts, recogni- zaunces, judgments, executions ; and of, and from, all and every other charge, titles, troubles, and incum- brances whatſoever by the ſaid William Shakeſpeare, William Johnſon, John Jackſon, and John Hemyng, or any of them, or by their or any of their meanes, had made, committed or done, before thenſealing and de- livery of theis preſents, or hereafter before the ſaid nyne and twentith day of September next comming after the date hereof, to bee had, made, committed or done, except the rents and ſervits to the cheef lord or lords of the fee or fees of the premiſſes, for, or in reſpect of, his or their ſegnorie or ſeignories onlie, to bee due and done. ; | IN WITNESSE whereof the ſaid parties to theis in- _ dentures interchangeablie have ſett their ſeales. Yeoven the day and years firſt above written, 1612 [1612-13]. ” Shakspe, An Johnson. Jo. Jackson. IN 2] c —— —ůÄů — ů 2 — — 22 é y2— — — ͤ ́——— — 2 = 4 4 4 a | j 296 SHAKSPEARE'S MORTGAGE. | Enſealed and delivered by the ſaid William Shakeſpeare, William Johnſon, and John Jackſon *, in the preſence of Will. Atkinſon. Robert Andrews, Scr+. Ed. Oudry. Henry Lawrence, e to the ſaid Scr. ohn Heming did not ſign, or feal, MAroR E. + i. e. Serivener. MALONE., ANCIENT AND MODERN COMMENDATORY VERSES : „ SHAKSPEARE On WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, Who died in April, ; 1616 15 Enowned Spenſer, lie a thought more nigh To learned Chaucer ; and rare Beaumont lie A little nearer Spenſer, to make room For Shakſpeare, in your three-fold, four-fold tomb. 8 0 1 In a collection of manuſcript poems which was in the poſſeſſion of the late Guſtavus Brander, Eſq. theſe verſes are entitled BASGR ris ELEG1E one [en] poett Shakeſpeare, who died in April 1616.“ The Mſ. appears to have been written ſoon after the year 1621. In the edition of our authour's poems in 1640, they are ſubſcribed with the initials W. B. only. They were erroneouſly attributed to Dr. Donne, in a quarto edition of his poems printed in x633 ; but his fon Dr. John Donne, a Civilian, publiſhed a more correct edition of his father's poems in 1735, and rejected the verſes on Shakſpeare, know- ing, without doubt, that they were written by another, From the words „ avho died in April 1616,” it may be inferred that theſe lines were written recently after Shakſpeare's death, when the month and year in which he died were well known. At a more diſtant period the month would probably have been forgotten; and that was not an age of ſuch curiofity as would have induced a poet to ſearch the regiſter at Stratford on ſuch a ſubjedt. From the addreſs to Chaucer and Spenſer it ſhould ſeem, that when theſe verſes were compoſed the writer thought it probable that a cenotaph would be erected to Shak- ſpeare in Weſtminſter- Abbey. There is a copy of theſe lines in a manuſcript volume of poems written by W. Herrick and others, among Rawlinſon's Collections in the Bodleian library at Oxford; and another among the Sloanian Mſs. in the Muſeum, No. 1702. In the Oxford Copy they are entitled « Shakſpeare's Epitaph ;** but the authour is not mentioned. There are ſome ſlight variations in the different copies, which I ſhall ſet down. | x Line 2. To rare Beaumond, and learned Beaumond lie, &c. edit. 1633. Line 5. To lodge in one hed all four make a ſhift - Mſ. Brander. To lodge all four in one bed, c. Mſ. R. and 8. To lie all four, &c. Edit. 1633. | | LN 3] Line 2 r n 9 rut . rio oe — D 2. 225% AER. ao 4 : ' ' : ſt if 1 —— + = 3g 198 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. To lodge all four in one bed make a ſhift Until doomſday ; for hardly will a fift * Betwixt this day and that by fate be ſlain, For whom your curtains may be drawn again. But if precedency in death doth bar A fourth place in your ſacred ſepulchre, Under this carved marble of thine own, Sleep, rare tragedian, Shakſpeare, ſleep alone, Thy unmoleſted peace, unſhared cave, Poſſeſs, as lord, not tenant, of thy grave; That unto us and others it may be Honour hereafter to be laid by thee. Line 7. So B. S. and R. by fates be flain, Edit. 1633. Line 8. So B. and S. | ul be drawn again. R. | —— need be drawn again. 1633. Line g. But if precedency of death, &c. Edit, 1633. Tf ycur precedency in death, &c. B. R. S. Line 10. So B. R. and edit. 1633. | | A fourth to have place in your ſepulcher,.— 8. Line 11. So B. and R. | by WILLIAM Bass E. — under this curled marble of thine own, Edit. 1633. | under this ſable, &c. S. Line 12. So B. S. and edit. 1633. Sleep, rare comedian, &c. R. Line 13. So B, and N. : __ Thine unmoleſted peace, unſhared cave—S., Thy unmoleſted peace ia an unſbared cave.— Edit, 1633. Line 14. So B. Poſſeſs as lord not tenant of the grave. S. — to thy grave. R. This couplet is not in edit. 1633. | Line 15. So Edit. 1633. | | That unto us, er others, &c. B. R. and S. Maronr. 2 Fifth was formerly corruptly written and pronounced ift. Ihave adhered to the old ſpelling on account of the rhyme. This corrupt pronunciation yet prevails in Scotland, and in many parts / of England. MALONEs» To POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 199 To the Memory of my Beloved, the Author, Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, and what he hath left us. To draw noenvy, Shakſpeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book, and fame; While I confeſs thy writings to be ſuch, As neither man, nor mule, can praiſe too much; *Tis true, and all men's ſuffrage : but theſe ways 3 Were not the paths I meant unto thy praiſe: 3 For ſeelieſt ignorance on theſe may light, IF Which, when it ſounds at beſt, but echoes right ; Or blind affection, which doth ne'er advance The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance; Or crafty malice might pretend this praiſe, And think to ruin, where it ſeem'd to raiſe: Theſe are, as tome infamous bawd, or whore, Should praiſe a matron ; what could hurt her more ? But thou art proof againſt them ; and, indeed, Above the ill fortune of them, or the need: 1, therefore, will begia :—Soul of the age, The applauſe, delight, the wonder of our Rage, My Shakſpeare, rife ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenſer; or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room 3 : Thou art a monument, without a tomb; And art alive ftill, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praiſe to give. That I not mix thee fo, my brain excuſes ; I mean, with great but diſproportion'd muſes ; For, if I thought my judgment were of years, I ſhould commit thee ſurely with thy peers ; And tell—how far thou didſt our Lily outſhine “, Or ſporting Kyd 5, or Marlowe's mighty lines. And 3 — to make thee a room :] See the preceding verſes by Baſſe, MaroNnt. + —our Lily outſhine,] Lylly wrote nine plays during the reign of Q. Eliz. viz, Alexander and Campaſpe, T. C; Endymion, C; Galatea, C; Loves Metamorphoſis, Dram: Paſt; Maids Metamorphoſis, C; Mother Bombie, C; Mydas, C; Th, * Phao, C; and Woman | 4 in g — be A ** mand rome 0 —ů e — — 0 7 — "a AT 2 "on. = - _ * $50 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. And though thou hadſt ſmall Latin, and leſs Greek, From thence to honour thee, I would not ſeek For names ; but call forth thund'ring Zſchylus, Euripides, and Sophocles, to us, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, To life again, to hear thy buſkin tread u the Moon, C. To the pedantry of this author perhaps we are in- debted for the firſt attempt to polith and reform our language, See his Eupbues and bis England. STEEVENS. | 5 —or ſporting Kyd,] It appears from Heywood's Actors Vindi- cation that Thomas Kyd was the author of the Spaniſh Tragedy, The late Mr. Hawkins was of opinion that Soliman and Perſeda was by the ſame hand. The only piece however, which has deſcended to us, even with the initial lerters of his name affixed to it, is Pompey the Great his fair Cornelia's Tragedy, which- was firſt publiſhed in 1594, and, with ſome alteration in the title-page, again in 1595. This is no more than a tranſlation from Robert Garnier, a French poet, who diſtinguiſhed himſelf during the reigns of Charles IX. Henry III. and Henry IV. and died at Mans in 1602, in the 56th year of his age. | ; ; STEEVENS. 6 — or Marlowe's mighty line.] Marlowe was a performer as well as an author, His contemporary Hey wood calls him the beſt of poets. He wrote fix tragedies, viz, Dr. Fauſtus's Tragical Hiſtory ; King Edward II; Few of Malta; Luſt's Dominion; Maſſacre of Paris; and Tamburlaine the Great, in two parts, He likewiſe joined with Nafp in writing Dido Queen of Carthage, and had begun a tranſlation of Muſzus's Hero and Leander, which was finiſhed by Chapman, and publiſhed in 1606. STEEVENS. | | | Chriſtopher Marlowe was born probably about the yeat 1566, as he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts at Cambridge, in 1583. I do not believe that he ever was an actor, nor can I find any authority for it Higher than the Theatrum Poetarum of Philips, in 1674, which is in- accurate in many circumſtances. Beard, who four years after Mar- lowe's death gave a particular account of him, does not ſpeak of him as an actor. © He was,” ſays that writer, © by profeſſion a ſcholler, brought up from his youth in the univerſitie of Cambridge, but by practice a play- maler and a poet of ſcurrilitie.“ Neither Drayton, nor Decker, nor Naſhe, nor the authour of the Return from Parnaſſus, 4606, nor Heywood in his prologue to the Few of Malta, give the flighteſt intimation of Marlowe's having trod the ſtage.» He was ftabbed in the ſtreet, and died of the wound, in 1593. His Hero and Learder was publiſhed in quarto, in 1598, by Edward Blount, as an impe fect work. The fragment ended with this line: „ Dany'd down to heil her loathſome carriage.” Chapman completed the poem, and And publiſhed it as it now appears, in 1600. MALONE, 2 - 1 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, 201 And ſhake a ſtage: or, when thy ſocks were on, Leave thee alone; for the compariſon | Of all, that inſolent Greece, or haughty Rome, Sent forth, or ſince did from their aſhes come. Triumph, my Britain! thou haſt one to ſhow, To whom all ſcenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time; And all the muſes ſtill were in their prime, When like Apollo he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm, Nature herſelf was proud of his deſigns, | And joy'd to wear the dreſſing of his lines Which were ſo richly ſpun, and woven ſo fit, . As, ſince, ſhe will vouchſafe no cther wit : The merry Greek, tart Ariſtophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not pleaſe ; But antiquated and deſerted he, As they were not of Nature's family. Yet muſt I not give nature all; thy art 7, My gentle Shakſpeare, muſt enjoy a part ;— For, though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the faſhion : and that he, Who caſts to write a living line, mult ſweat, (Such as thine are) and ſtrike the ſecond heat Upon the muſes? anvil ; turn the ſame, - (And himſelf with it) that he thinks to frame; Or, for the laurel, he may gain a ſcorn, — For a good poet's made, as well as born: And ſuch wert thou. Look, how the father's face Lives in his iſſue; even ſo the race F Of Shakſpeare's mind, and manners, brightly ſhines In his well-torned and true-filed lines ; 5 In — thy art, ; My gentle Shakſpeare, muſt enjoy a part ;—] Yet this writer in his converſation with Mr. Drummond of Rawthornden in 1619, ſaid, that Shakſpeare “wanted art, and ſometimes ſenſe.” MaroNE. 8 — true-filed lines; ] The ſame praiſe is given to Shakſpeare by a preceding writer.“ As Epius Stolo ſaid that the Muſes would ſpeak with Plautus his tongue, if they would ſpeak Latin, ſo I ſay that the Muſes would ſpeak with Shakſpeare's fine fled phraſe, if they would ſpeak Engliſh.” Wit's Treaſury, by Francis Meres, 1598. | | | It 202 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, In each of which he ſeems to ſhake a lance, As brandiſh'd at the eyes of i ignorance. Sweet ſwan of Avon, what a fight it were, To ſee thee in our waters yet appear; And make thoſe flights upon the banks of Thames, 'That ſo did take Eliza, and our James ! But ſtay; I ſee thee in the hemiſphere Advanc'd, and made a conſtellation there :— Shine forth, thou ftar of poets ; and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheer, the drooping ſtage ; Which, ſince thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd like | night, And deſpairs My bat 75 thy volume's light! B. Joxsox ?. Upon It is ſomewhat 1 that at a ſubſequent period Shakſpeare was cenſured for the want of that elegance which is here juſtly attributed to him. „ Though all the laws of Heroick Poem,” ſays the authour of Theatrum Poetarum, 1674, © all the laws of tragedy, were exactly obſerved, yet {till this tour entrej ante, this poetick energie, if I may ſo call it, would be required to give life to all the reſt; which ſhines through the rougheſt, moſt unpoliſh'd and antiquated. language, and may haply be wanting in the moſt polite and reformed. Let us obſerve Spenſer, with all his ruſtick obſolete words, with all his rough- hewn clouterly phraſes, yet take him throughout, and we ſhall find in him a graceful and poetic majeſtie: in like manner Shakſpeare, in ſpite of all his anffled expreſſions, his rambling and indigeſted fancies, the laughter of the critical, yet muſt be confeſs'd a poet above many that go beyond him in literature ſome degrees.” MaLoNE. 9 extinftus amabitur idem. This obſervation of Horace was never more completely verified than by the poſthumous applauſe which Ben Jonſon has beſtowed on Shak- ſpeare: the gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, Be was dead, Let us now compare the preſent elogium of old Ben with ſuch of his other ſentiments as have reached poſterity. In April 1748, when the Lower's Melancholy by Ford, (a friend and contemporary of Shakſpeare,) was revived for a benefit, the fol- lowing letter appeared in the General, now the Public, Adwertiſer. — It is hoped that the following gleaning of theatrical hiſtory will readily obtain a place in your paper. It is taken from a pamphlet written in the reign of Charles I. with this quaint title, „ Old Ben's Light Heart made heavy by . Fobn's Melancholy Lover,” =_ Y + I POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, cz 1 Upon the Lines, and Life, of the famous | Scenick Poet, Maſter WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. Thoſe hands, which you ſo clapp'd, go now andwring, You Britains brave; for done are Shakſpeare's days; His days are done, that made the dainty plays, Which made the globe of heaven and earth to ring : | | Dry'd as it contains ſome hiſtorical anecdotes and altercations concerning Ben Jon ſon, Ford, Shakſpeare, and the Lover's Melancholy, it is ima- gined that a few extrafts from it at this juncture, will not be unen- tertaining to the publick.“ © Thoſe who have any knowledge of the theatre in the reigns of James and Charles the Firſt, muſt know, that Ben Jonſon, from great critical language, which pas then the portion but of very few, his merit as a poet, and his conſtant aſſociation with men of letters, did, for a conſiderable time, give /aws to the lage. © Ben was by nature ſplenetic and ſour ; with a ſhare of envy, (for every anxious genius has ſome) more than was warrantable in ſociety. By education rather critically than politely learned; which ſwell'd his mind into an oftentatious pride of bis ozon works, and an over- bearing inexorable judgment of his contemporaries.? © This raiſed him many enemies, who towards the cloſe of his life endeavoured to dethrone this tyrant, as the pamphlet ftiles him, out of the dominion of the theatre. And what greatly contributed to their deſign, was the flights and malignances which the rigid Ben too frequently threw out againſt the /ozv/y Shakſpeare, whoſe fame ſince his death, as appears by the pamphlet, was grown too great for Ben's envy either to bear with or wound.” | | © It would greatly exceed the limits of your paper to ſet down all the contempts and invectives which were uttered and written by Ben, and are collected and produced in this pampblet, as unanſwerable and ſhaming evidences to prove his Il. nature and ingratitude to Shakſpeare, who firſt introduced him to the theatre and fame. © But though the whole of theſe invectives cannot be ſet down at mY ſome few of the heads may not be diſagreeable, which are as ollow.“ © That the man had imagination and uit none could deny, but that they were ever guided by true judgment in the rules and conduct of a piece, none could with juſtice aſſert, both being ever ſervile to raiſe the laughter of fools and the wonder of the ignorant, That he was a good Poet only in part, —being ignorant of all dramatick laws,—had little Latin—/eſs Greek—and ſpeaking of plays, &c. To make a child new ſwaddled, to proceed Man, and then ſhoot up, in one beard and weed, | © Paſt 204 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. Dry'd is that vein, dry'd is the Theſpian ſpring, Turn'd all to tears, and Phœbus clouds his rays ; That corpſe, that coffin, now beſtick thoſe bays, Which crown'd him poet firſt, then poets? king. If 6 Paſt threeſcore years: or, with three ruſty ſwords, © And help of ſome few foot-and-balf-foot words, Fight over York and Lancaſter's long jars, And in the tyring-houſe bring wounds to ſcars, © He rather prays you will be pleas'd to ſee © One ſuch to-day, as other plays ſhould be; Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the ſeas, &c. © This, and ſuch like behaviour, brought Ben at laſt from being the lawgiver of the theatre to be the ridicule of it, being perſonally in- troduced there in ſeveral pieces, to the ſatis fac ion of the publick, who are ever fond of encouraging perſonal ridicule, when the follies and vices of the object are ſuppoſed to deſerve it. © But what wounded his pride and fame moſt ſenſibly, was the preference which the publick and moſt of his contemporary wits, gave to Ford's Lover's MELANcHOL x, before his NRW INN ok LIEHT HART. They were both brought on in the ſame 4veek and on the ſame ſtage; where Ben's was damn'd, and Ford's received with un- common applauſe : and what made this circumſtance ſtill more galling, was, that Ford was at the head of the partiſans who ſupported Shak- ſpeare's fame againſt Ber Fonſon's inveFives.” . © This ſo incenſed old Ben, that as an everlaſting ſtigma upon his audience, he prefixed this title to his play - The New Inn or Light Heart, A comedy, as it was never afed, but moſt negligently play'd by ſome, the King's idle ſervants; and more ſqueamiſhly beheld and cenſur'd by others, the King's fooliſh ſubjefs,” This title is followed by an abuſive preface upon the audience and reader. | | © Immediately upon this, he wrote his memorable ode againſt the publick, beginning | | | „Come, leave the loathed ſtage, « Andtke more loathſome age, &c. The revenge he took againſt Ford, was to write an epigram on him as a plagiary, | & Playwright, by chance, hearing toys I bad writ, & Cry'd to my face—they were th' elixir of wit. « And I muſt now believe him, for to-day. « Five of my jeſts, then ſtoln, paſs'd him a play.” | alluding to a character in the Ladies Trial, which Ben ſays Ford ſtole from him.“ e 5 * The next charge againſt Ford was, that the Lover's Melancholy was not his own, but purloined from Shakſpeare's papers, by the con- nivance of Heminge and Condel, who in conjunction with Ford, had the reviſal of them.“ 6 The POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, 203 If tragedies might any prologue have, | 85 All thoſe he made would ſcarce make one to this; 5 Where fame, now that he gone is to the grave, 5 (Death's publick tyring-houſe) the Nuntius is: For, though his line of life went ſoon about, The life yet of his lines ſhall never out. Be Hucnx HOLLAND“. + © The malice of this charge is gravely refuted, and afterwards laughed at in many verſes and epigrams, the beſt of which are thoſe that follow, with which I ſhall cloſe this theatrical extract.“ 1 c To my worthy friend, Job Ford. 2 «*Tis ſaid, from Shak ſpeare's mine your play you drew; S-. „„ What need ?—when Shakſpeare ftill ſurvives in you: ” « But grant it were from his vaſt treaſury reft, = | That plund'rer Ben ne er made ſo rich a theft.” & | ; | Thomas May. 3 Upon Ben Jonſon, and his Zany, Tom Randolph, 4 a & Quoth Ben to Tom, the Lover's ſtole, 1 6 *Tis Shakſpeare's every word; = c Indeed, ſays Tom, upon the whole, = 6 Tis much too good for Ford. 2 & Thus Ben and Tom the dead ſtill praiſe, = « The wing to decry Y & For none muſt dare to wear the bays, 9 & Till Ben and Tom both die. 3 « Even Aven's ſwan could not eſcape 1 ä «© Theſe letter-tyrant elves; +4 ES «© They on his fame contriv'd a rape, 3 * To raiſe their pedant ſelves. E «© But after times with full conſent & « This truth will all acknowledge. = « Shakſpeare and Ford from heaven were ſent, 9 & But Ben and Tom from college. E | Endymion Porter. 1 Mr. Macklin the comedian was the author of this letter; but the 9 pamphlet which furniſhed his materials, was loft in its paſſage from 8 Ireland, | -n The following ſtanza, from a copy of verſes by Shirley, prefixed to = Ford's Lowe's Sacrifice, 1633, alludes to the ſame diſpute, and is ap- 1 pParently addreſſed to Ben Jonſon : h | 46 Look here thou that haſt malice to the ſtage, « And impudence enough forthe whole age; « Foluminouſiy 46) #8 Be BE: 15 5 : i 2 2 . 1 1 206 POEMS ON SHAEKSPEARE. To the Memory of the deceaſed Authour, Maſter W. SHAKSPEARR. Shakſpeare, at length thy pious fellows give The world thy works; thy works, by which ortlive Thy tomb, thy name muſt : when that flone is rent, And time diflolves thy Stratford monument, Here we alive ſhall view thee ftill ; this book, When braſs and marble fade, ſhall make thee look Freſh to all ages; when poſterity Shall loath what's new, think all is prodigy That is not Shakſpeare's, every line, each verſe, Here ſhall revive, redeem thee from thy herſe. Nor fire, nor cank'ring age,—as Naſo ſaid Of his, — thy wit-fraught book ſhall once invade: . Nor ſhall 1 e'er believe or think thee dead, Though miſs'd, until our bankrout ſtage be ſped (Impoſſible) with ſome new ſtrain to out-do Paſſions of Juliet, and her Romeo; Or till I hear a ſcene more nobly take, | Than when thy half-ſword parlying Romans ſpake : Till theſe, till any of thy volume's reſt, Shall with more fire, more feeling, be expreſs'd, Be ſure, our Shakſpeare, thou canſt never die, But, crown'd with laurel, live eternally. | L. Die ezEs 1. 0 A IN CO AEOV e ot 23 " AS 3 TTT. ͤ——— NNE 222 ENTS iT 8 age PEO TTNuS, —w=Vc==__—___—_ | To the Memory of Maſter W. SyaxsPraRe, We wonder'd, Shakſpeare, that thou went*ft fo foon From the world's Rage to the grave's tyring-room : ce Voluminouſly ignorant ! be vext & To read this tragedy, and thy owne be next,” | 4 5 ws | STEEVENS» 1 See Wood's Athenz Oxon. edit. 1721, Vol. I. p. 583. | STEEVENSs 2 Ses Wood's Athenæ Oxonienſes, Vol. I. p. 599, and 600, edit. 1721. His tranſlation of Claudian's Rape of Proſerpine was en- tered on the Stationers' books, Oct. 4, 1617. SrREVYINS. | It was printed in the ſame year. MaLoNEs» | 4”: e POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, 207 We thought thee dead; but this thy printed worth Tells thy ſpectators, that thou went'ſt but forth To enter with applauſe : an actor's art Can die, and live to act a ſecond part; That's but an exit of mortality, This a re-entrance to a plaudite. J. Ms. Upon the Ef gies of my worthy Friend, the Authour, Maſter WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, and | his Works, Spectator, this life's ſhadow is ;—to ſee The truer 1mage, and a liveher he, Turn reader: but obſerve his comick vein, Laugh ; and proceed next to a tragick ftrain, Then weep : ſo,—when thou find'ſt two contraries, Two different paſſions from thy rapt {oul riſe, Say, (who alone effect ſuch wonders could) Rare Shakſpeare to the life thou doſt behold “. ry —CC On worthy Maſter SHAKSPEARE, and his Poems. A mind reflecting ages paſt, whoſe clear And equal ſurface can make things appear, Diſtant a thoufand years, and reprefent Them in their lively colours, juſt extent: To outrun haſty time, retrieve the fates, Roll back the heavens, blow ope the iron gates Of death and Lethe, where confuſed lie Great heaps of ruinous mortality: In that deep duſky dungeon, to diſcern A royal ghoſt from churls; by art to learn The phyſiognomy of ſhades, and give Them ſudden birth, wond'ring how oft they live; 3 perhaps John Marſton, SrrEVxNS. 5 + Theſe verſes firſt appeared in the folio, 1632. There is no name ſubſcribed to them. MALONE, What 208 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. What ſtory coldly tells, what poets feign At ſecond hand, and picture without brain, Senſeleſs and ſoul-leſs ſhews : To give a ſtage.— Ample, and true with life, —voice, action, age, As Plato's year, and new ſcene of the world, Them unto us, or us to them had hurl'd: To raiſe our ancient ſovereigns from their herſe, Make kings his ſubjects; by exchanging verſe Enlive their pale trunks, that the preſent age Joys in their joy, and trembles at their rage : Vet ſo to temper paſſion, that our ears | Take pleaſure in their pain, and eyes in tears Both weep and ſmile ; fearful at plots ſo ſad, 'Then laughing at our fear; abus'd, and glad To be abus' d; affected with that truth | Which we perceive is falſe, pleas'd in that ruth At which we ſtart, and, by elaborate play, Tortur'd and tickl'd; by a crab-like way Time paſt made paſtime, and in ugly ſort Diſgorging up his ravin for our ſport ;— — While the plebeian imp, from lofty throne, Creates and rules a world, and works upon Mankind by ſecret engines ; now to move A chilling pity, then a rigorous love ; To ſtrike up and ſtroak down, both joy and ire; To ſteer the affections; and by heavenly fire Mold us anew, ſtoln from ourſelves ;— This,—and much more, which cannot be expreſs'd But by himſelf, his tongue, and his own breaſt, — Was Shakſpeare's freehold ; which his cunning brain Improv'd by favour of the nine-fold train: — The buſkin'd muſe, the comick queen, the grand And louder tone of Clio, nimble hand And nimbler foot of the melodious pair, The ſilver-voiced lady, the moſt fair Calliope, whoſe ſpeaking filence daunts, And ſhe whoſe praiſe the heavenly body chants, Theſe jointly woo'd him, envying one another ;— Obey'd by all as ſpouſe, but lov'd as brother ;— And ' POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 209 And wrought a curious robe, of ſable grave, Freſh green, and pleaſant yellow, red moſt brave, And conſtant blue, rich purple, guiltleſs white, The lowly ruſſet, and the ſcarlet bright; Branch'd and embroider'd like the painted ſpring ; Each leaf match'd with a flower, and each ſtring Of golden wire, each line of filk : there run Italian works, whoſe thread the ſiſters ſpun ; And there did ſing, or ſeem to ſing, the choice Birds of a foreign note and various voice : Here hangs a moſly rock ; there plays a fair But chiding fountain, purled: not the air, Nor clouds, nor thunder, but were living drawn; Not out of common tiffany or lawn, But fine materials, which the muſes know, And only know the countries where they grow. Now, when they could no longer him enjoy, In mortal garments pent,—death may deſtroy, They ſay, his body ; but his verſe ſhall live, And more than nature takes our hands ſhall give: In a leſs volume, but more ſtrongly bound, Shakſpeare ſhall breathe and ſpeak ; with laurel crown'd, Which never fades; fed with ambroſian meat, In a well-lined veſture, rich, and neat: | So with this robe they cloath him, bid him wear it; For time ſhall never ſtain, nor envy tear it. The friendly Admirer of his wann 0 A Remembrance of ſome Engliſh poets. By Richard Barnefield, 1598. And Shakſpeare thou, whoſe honey-flowing vein (Pleaſing the world,) thy praiſes doth contain, Whoſe Venus, and whoſe Lucrece, ſweet and chaſte, Thy name in fame's immortal book hath plac'd, Live ever you, at leaſt in fame live ever! Well may the body die, but fame die never. Vol. I. [01 England's 210 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. England's Mourning Garment, &c. 1603. Nor doth the ſilver-tongued Melicert Drop from his honied muſe one fable tear, To mourn her death that graced his deſert, And to his lates open'd her royal ear. Shepherd, remember our Elizabeth, And ſing her Rape, done by that Targquiz, death. To Maſter W. SUAKSPEARE. Shakſpeare, that nimble Mercury thy braine Lulls many-hundred Argus? eyes aſleepe, So fit for all thou faſhioneſt thy vaine, * 4 At the horſe-foot fountaine thou haſt drunk full deepe. . Vertue's or vice's theme to thee all one is; 1 Who loves chaſte life, there's Lucrece for a teacher: if Who lift read luſt, there's Venus and Adonis, | + True modell of a moſt laſcivious leacher. 14 Beſides, in plaies thy wit winds like Meander, | ig When needy new compoſers borrow more 1 Than Terence doth from Plautus or Menander : 5 by .| But to praiſe thee aright, I want thy ſtore. - = 14 | ̃ ben let thine owne works thine owne worth upraiſe, 2 1 | And help to adorne thee with deſerved baies. Epigram 92, in an ancient collection, entitled Ru: and a great Caſt, 4to. by Tho. Freeman, 1614. Extract from Michael Drayton's © Elegy to Henry Rey« nolds, Eſq. of Poets and Poeſy.“ Ce Shakſpeare, thou hadſt as ſmooth a comick vein, Fitting the ſock, and in thy natural brain As ſtrong conception, and as clear a rage, As any one that traflick'd with the ſtage. >>" " — — o 0 ; — 2 — An POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. #1 An Epitaph on the | Admirable Dramatick Poet, W. SHAKSPEARE, What needs my Shakſpeare for his honour'd bones, 35 The labour of an age in piled ſtones ; Or that his hallow'd reliques ſhould be hid Under a ftar-ypointing pyramid ? Dear ſon of memory, great heir of fame, | What-need'ſt thou ſuch weak witneſs of thy name! 2 Thou, in our wonder and aſtoniſhment, Haſt built thyſelf a live-long monument : For whilſt, to the ſhame of ſlow-endeavouring art, Thy eaſy numbers flow; and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book; Thoſe Delphick lines with deep impreffion took; 1. Then thou, our fancy of itſelf bereaving *, Doſt make us marble with too much conceiving; And, ſo ſepulcher'd, in ſuch pomp doſt lie, That 9 for __ a tomb, would wiſh to die. Joun Mr. ILTON ®, Upon Maſter WII IIA n Smaneraanty the deceaſed authour. ' Poets are born, not made. When I would prove This truth, the glad remembrance I muſt love Of never-dying Shakſpeare, who alone Is argument enough to make that one, Firit, that he was a poet, none would doubt That heard the Appin of what he ſees fet out — ber ea ving, ] So the c copy in Mi lton's 8 printed by Moſely in 1645. That in the ſecond folio, 1632, has—=of ber- ſelf bereaving. MALONE, 4 Theſe verſes were written by Milton in the year 1630. Notwith- ſtanding this juſt elogium, and though the writer of it appears to have been a very diligent reader of the works of our poet, from whoſe rich garden he has plucked many a flower, in the true ſpirit of ſour puri- tanical ſanRity he cenſured King Charles I. for having made this cc great heir of fame the cloſet companion of bis ſolitudes, See his Exe * MALORNRE. [O 21 | | Imprinted : 212 POEMS ON SHAEKS PE ARE. Imprinted ; where thou haſt (I will not ſay, Reader, his works, for, to contrive a play, To him *twas none) the pattern of all wit, Art without art, unparallel'd as yet. Next Nature only help'd him, for look thorough This whole book 5, thou ſhall find he doth not borrow One phraſe from Greeks, nor Latins imitate, Nor once from vulgar languages tranſlate ; - Nor plagiary- like x others gleane, Nor begs he from each witty friend a ſcene, To piece his acts with: all that he doth write Is pure his own; plot, language, exquiſite. But O what praiſe more powerful can we give The dead, than that, by him, the Aing's-men live, His players ; which ſhould they but have ſhar'd his fate, (All elſe expir'd within the ſhort term's date) How could T he Globe have proſper'd, ſince through want Of change, the plays and poems had grown ſcant. | But, happy verſe, thou ſhalt be ſung and hear'd, When hungry quills ſhall be ſuch honour barr'd. Then vaniſh, upſtart writers to each ſtage, You needy poetaſters of this age! Where ede liv'd or ſpake, Vermin, forbeare ! Leſt with your froth ye ſpot them, come not near ! But if you needs muſt write, if poverty - So pinch, that otherwiſe you ftarve and die; On God's name may the Bull or Cockpit have Your lame blank verſe, to keep you trom the grave : Or let new Fortune's © younger brethren ſee, | What they can pick ſrom your lean induſtry. J do not wonder when you offer at | Black-friars, that you ſuffer : tis the fate s From this and the following lines it is prohable that thefe verſes were intended to be prefixed to the folio edition of our authour's lays. MALON R. , | : | 6 This, I believe, alludes to ſome of the company of The Fortune playhouſe, who removed to the Red Bull. See a Prologue on the re- moving of the late Fortune players to The Bull, Tatham's Fancies Theatre, 1640. MALoNE. POEMS ON SHAKSPEARF, 113 Of richer veins ; prime judgments, that have far'd The worſe, with this deceaſed man compar'd. So have I ſeen, when Cæſar would appear, And on the ſtage at half- ſword parley were Brutus and Caſſius, O how the audience | Were raviſh'd ! with what wonder they went thence ! When, ſome new day, they would not brook a line Of tedious, though well-labour'd, Catiline; Sejanus too was irkſome; they priz'd more «« Honeſt” Jago, or the jealous Moor. And though the Fox and ſubtil Alchymiſt, Long intermitted, could not quite be miſt, Though theſe have tham'd all th ancients, and might raiſe Their authour's merit with a crown of bays, Yet theſe ſometimes, even at a friend's deſire Acted, have ſcarce defray'd the ſea-coal fire, And door-keepers : when, let but Falſtaff come, Hal, Poins, the reſt, —you ſcarce ſhall have a room, All is ſo peſter'd : Let but Beatrice And Benedick be ſeen, lo! in a trice The cock-pit, galleries, boxes, all are full, To hear Maloo zo, that croſs-garter'd gull. Brief, there. is nothing in his wit-fraught book, Whoſe ſound we would not hear, on whoſe worth look : Like old-coin'd gold, whoſe lines, in every page, Shall paſs true current to ſucceeding age. But why do I dead Shat/peare's praiſe recite ? Some ſecond Sha4/peare muſt of Shak/peare write; For me, *tis needleſs ; fince an hoſt of men | Will pay, to clap his praiſe, to free my pen“. 8 LEON. DiGGES. An Elegy on the death of that famous writer and actor, Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, I dare not do thy memory that wrong, Unto our larger griefs to give a tongue. 7 Theſe verſes are prefixed to a ſpurious edition of Shakſpeare's paems, in ſmall octavo, printed in 1640. MALONE. LF = Poems, 1640. MAL ONE. qi POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, I'll only ſigh in earneſt, and let fall My ſolemn tears at thy great funeral. For every eye that rains a ſhow'r for thee, Laments thy loſs in a ſad elegy. Nor is it fit each humble muſe ſhould have Thy worth his ſubje&t, now thou art laid in grave. No, it's a flight beyond the pitch of thoſe, : Whoſe worth-leſs pamphlets are not ſenſe in proſe. Let learned Jonſon ling a dirge for thee, 5 And fill our orb with mournful harmony: But we need no remembrancer; thy fame Shall ſtill accompany thy honour'd name To all poſterity ; and make us be Senſible of what we loſt, in loſing thee : Being the age's wonder ; whoſe IT rhimes Did more reform than laſh the looſer times. Nature herſelf did her own ſelf admire, As oft as thou wert pleaſed to attire Her in her native luſtre ; and confeſs, Thy drefling was her chiefeſt comlineſs. How can we then forget thee, when the age Her chiefeſt tutor, and the widow'd ſtage Her only favorite, in thee, hath loſt, | And Nature's ſelf, what ſhe did brag of moſt ? Sleep then, rich ſoul of numbers: whilſt poor we Enjoy the profits of thy legacy; , And think it happineſs enough, we have So much of thee redeemed from the grave, As may ſuffice to enlighten future times With the bright luſtre of thy matchleſs rhimes*. | | 3 ” | In Memory of our famous SEHAKSTEARE. Sacred Spirit, whiles thy lyre 5 | Echoed o'er the Arcadian plains, Even Apollo did admire, _ Orpheus wonder'd at thy ſtrains: 8B Theſe anonymous verſes are likewiſe prefixed to Shakſpeare's Plautus POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 2275 Plautus figh'd, Sophocles wept Tears of anger, for to hear, After they ſo long had ſlept, So bright a genius ſhould appear Who wrote his lines with a ſun-beam, More durable than time or fate ;— Others boldly do blaſpheme, Like thoſe that ſeem to preach, but prate. Thou wert truly prieſt ele&, Choſen darling to the Nine, Such a trophy to erect | By thy wit and ſkill divine, That were all their other glories (Thine excepted) torn away, By thy admirable ſtories Their garments ever ſhall be gay. Where thy. honour'd bones do lie, (As Statius once to Maro's urn,) Thither every year will I | Slowly tread, and ſadly mourn. 5 S. SHEPPARD®, In remembrance of Maſter WILLIAM SRHAZKSTEARR. Ode. 15 Beware, delighted poets, when you ſing, To welcome nature in the early ſpring, Your num'rous feet not tread The banks of Avon; for each flow'r, As it ne'er knew a ſun or ſhow'r, Hangs there the penſive head. 9 This authour publiſhed a ſmall volume of Fpigrams in 16g1, among which this poem in memory of Shakſpeare is found. MALonte [04] Il. 216 POEMS ON SHARK SP EARE. - II. | : Each tree, whoſe thick and ſpreading growth hath made Rather a night beneath the boughs than ſhade, Unwilling now to grow, 5 Looks like the plume a captain wears, Whoſe rifled 22 are ſteep'd 1'the tears Which from his laſt rage flow: III. The piteous river wept itſelf away Long ſince alas! to dach a ſwift decay, hat reach the map, and look If you a river there can ſpy, - And, for a river, your mock'd eye Will find a ſhallow brook. Vn WILLIAM D*Avenanrt. Part of Shirley's Prologue to The Siſters. And if you leave us too, we cannot thrive, P11 promiſe neither play nor poet live Till ye come back : think what you do ; you ſee What audience we have: what company | | To Shakſpeare comes? whoſe mirth did once beguile Dull hours, and buſkin'd, made even ſorrow ſmile ; So lovely were the wounds, that men would ſay They could endure the bleeding a whole day. See, my lov'd Britons, ſee your Shakſpeare riſe, An awful ghoſt, confeſs'd to human eyes! Unnam'd, methinks, diſtinguiſh'd J had been From other ſhades, by this eternal green, About whoſe wreaths-the vulgar poets ftrive, And with a touch their wither*d nk Untaught, unpractis'd, in a barbarous age, I found not, but created firſt the ſtage: And if I drain'd no Greek or Latin ſtore, Twas, that my own abundance gave me more: POEMS ON SHAKSPE ARE. 217 On foreign trade I needed not rely, | J Like fruitful Britain rich without ſupply. : Dryden's Prologue to his alteration of 'Troilus and | | Creſſida. Shakſpeare, who (taught by none) did firſt impart To Fletcher wit, to labouring Jonſon art: He, monarch- like, gave thoſe his ſubjects law, And is that nature which they paint and draw. Fletcher reach'd that which on his heights did grow, Whilſt Jonſon crept and gather'd all below. This did his love, and this his mirth digeſt: One imitates him moſt, the other beſt. If they have ſince out- writ all other men, "Tis with the drops which fell from Shakſpeare's pen. Dryden's Prologue to his Alteration of the Tempeſt. _———_=____ Our Shakſpeare wrote too in an age as bleſt, 'The happieſt poet of his time, and beſt ; A gracious prince's fayour cheer'd his muſe, A conſtant favour he ne'er fear'd to loſe: Therefore he wrote with fancy unconfin'd, | And thoughts that were immortal as his mind. Otway's Prologue to Caius Marius. —— Shakſpeare, whoſe genius to itſelf a law, Could men in every height of nature draw. Rowe's Prologue to the Ambitious Stepmother. — — — In ſuch an age immortal Shakſpeare wrote, By no quaint rules nor hamp'ring criticks taught; With rough majeſtick force he mov'd the heart, And ſtrength and nature made amends for art. : TT Rowe's Prologue to Jane Shore, Shakſpeare, the genius of our iſle, whoſe mind | (The univerſal mirror of mankind) ' = | Expreſs'd 213 POEMS ON SHAEK SPE ARE. Expreſs'd all images, enrich'd the ſtage, But ſometimes ſtoop'd to 2 a barb'rous age. When his immortal bays began to grow, Rude was the Janguage, and the humour low, He, like the god of day, was always bright; But rolling in its courſe, his orb of light Was ſully d and obſcur'd, though ſoaring high, With ſpots contracted from the nether ſky, _ But whither is the advent'rous muſe betray'd? Forgive her raſhneſs, venerable ſhade ! | May ſpring with purple flowers perfume thy urn, And Avon with his greens thy grave adorn ! Be all thy faults, whatever faults there be, Imputed to the times, and not to thee ! Some ſcions ſhot from this immortal root, Their tops much lower, and leſs fair the fruit, Jonſon the tribute of my verſe might claim, Had he not ſtrove to blemiſh Shakſpeare's name. But like the radiant twins that gild the ſphere, Fletcher and Beaumont next in pomp appear. | Fenton's Epiſtle to Southerne, 1711. e For lofty ſenſe, Creative ſancy, and inſpection keen | Through the deep windings of the human heart, Is not wild Shakſpeare thine and nature's boaſt ? | Thomſon's Summer, Shakſpeare (whom you and every play-houſe bill Style the divine, the matchleſs, what you will,) For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, And grew 1mmortal in his own deſpight. | Pope's Imitation of Horace's Epiſtle to Auguſtus. An Inſcription for a Monument of SHAKSPEARE. O youths and virgins: O declining eld : O pale misfortune's ſlaves: O ye who dwell Unknown with humble quiet; ye who wait In courts, or fill the golden ſeat of kings: POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 219 O ſons of ſport and pleaſure; O thou wretch That weep'ſt for jealous love, or the ſore wounds Of conſcious guilt, or death's rapacious hand, Which left thee void of hope: O ye who roam In exile; ye who through the embattled field Seek bright renown; or who for nobler palms Contend, the leaders of a publick cauſe; Approach : behold this marble. Know ye not The features? Hath not oft his faithful tongue Told you the faſhion of your own eſtate, | The ſecrets of your boſom? Here then, round His monument with reverence while ye ſtand, Say to each other: This was Shakſpeare's form; «© Who walk'd in every path of human life, Felt every paſſion ; and to all mankind _ © Doth now, will ever, that experience yield Which his own genius only could acquire.“ | Ak ENS IDE. From the ſame Author's Pleaſures of Imagination, B. III. when lightning fires 4 The arch of heaven, and thunders rock the ground, When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, And ocean, groaning from his loweſt bed, Heaves his tempeſtuous billows to the ſky ; Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, Shakſpeare looks abroad From ſome high cliff, ſuperior, and enjoys The elemental war. From the Remonſtrance of SRAEKSPEARE. Suppoſed to have been ſpoken at the Theatre- Royal, when the French Comedians were acting by ſubſcription. By the ſame author. What though the footſteps of my devious muſe The meaſur'd walks of Grecian art refuſe? Or though the frankneſs of my hardy ſtyle Mock the nice touches of the critick's file ? Yet 220 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE, Yet what my age and climate held to view Impartial I ſurvey'd, and fearleſs drew, And ſay, ye ſkilfull in the human heart, Who know to prize a poet's nobleſt part, What age, what clime, could e'er an ampler field For lofty thought, for daring fancy yield ? I ſaw this England break the ſhametull bands | Forg'd for the ſouls of men by ſacred hands; I ſaw each groaning realm her aid implore; Her ſons the heroes of each warlike ſhore ; Her naval ſtandard, (the dire Spaniard's bane,) Obey'd through all the circuit of the main. Then too great commerce, for a late found world, Around your coaſt her eager fails unfurl'd: New hopes, new paſſions, thence the boſom fir'd ; New plans, new arts, the genius thence inſpir'd; Thence every ſcene which private fortune knows, In ftronger life, with bolder ſpirit, roſe. Diſgrac'd ] this full proſpect which I drew? My colours languid, or my ſtrokes untrue? Have not your ſages, warriors, ſwains, and kings, Confeſs'd the living draught of men and things? What other bard in any clime appears, Alike the maſter of your ſmiles and tears ? Yet have I deign'd your audience to entice With wretched bribes to luxury and vice? Or have my various ſcenes a purpoſe known, Which freedom, virtue, glory, might not own ? When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes Firſt rear'd the ſtage, immortal Shakſpeare roſe Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhauſted worlds, and then imagin'd new: Exiſtence ſaw him ſpurn her bounded reign, And panting time toil'd after him in vain: His pow'rful ſtrokes preſiding truth impreſs'd, And unreſiſted paſſion ſtorm'd the breaſt. : Prologue at the opening of Drury-Lane Theatre in 1747. By Dr. Samuel Johnſon. | Upon POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 221 Upon Shakſpeare's Monument at Stratford-upon-Ayon. Great Homer's birth ſeven rival cities claim Too mighty ſuch monopoly of fame. | Yet not to birth alone did Homer owe His wond”rous worth; what Egypt could beſtow, With all the ſchools of Greece and Aſia join'd, Enlarg'd the immenſe expanſion of his mind: Nor yet unrival'd the Mzonian ftrain ; The Britiſh Eagle“ and the Mantuan Swan Tow'r equal heights. But, happier Stratford, thou With inconteſted laurels deck thy brow ; Thy bard was thine anſchool'd, and from thee brought More than all Egypt, Greece, or Aſia taught; | Not Homer's ſelf ſuch matchleſs laurels won; The Greek has rivals, but thy Shakſpeare none. | T. SEWARD. F rom Mr. Collins's Epiſtle to Sir Thomas Hanmer on his edition of Shakſpeare's works. Hard was the lot thoſe injur'd ſtrains endur'd, Unown'd by ſcience, and by years obſcur'd : Fair Fancy wept; and echoing ſighs confeſs'd A fixt deſpair in every tuneful breaſt. Not with more grief the afflicted ſwains appear, When wintry winds deform the plenteous year; When lingering froſts the ruin'd ſeats invade Where Peace reſorted, and the Graces play'd. Each rifing art by juſt gradation moves, _ Toll builds on toil, and age on age improves : The muſe alone. unequal dealt her rage, And grac'd with nobleſt pomp her earlieſt ſtage. Preſerv'd through time, the ſpeaking ſcenes impart Each changeful wiſh of Phædra's tortur'd heart; Or paint the curſe, that mark'd the Theban's * reign, A bed inceſtuous, and a father flain. With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow, Trace the ſad tale, and own another's woe. 1 Milton. . 2 The Oedipus of Sophocles. To * 222 POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. To Rome remov'd, with wit ſecure to pleaſe; The comick ſiſters kept their native eaſe. With jealous fear declining Greece beheld Her own Menande1”s art almoſt excell'd: But every Muſe eſſay'd to raiſe in vain Some labour'd rival of her tragick ſtrain ; Illyſſus' laurels, though transferr'd with toil; Droop'd their fair leaves, nor knew th” unfriendly foil, As arts expir*d, reſiſtleſs Dulneſs roſe ; | Goths, prieſts, or Vandals,—all were learning's foes. Till Julius3 firſt recall'd each exil'd maid, And Coſmo own'd them in the Etrurian ſhade : : Then deeply ſkill'd in love's engaging theme, The ſoft Provencial paſs*d to Arno's ſtream: With graceful eaſe the wanton lyre he ſtrung; Sweet flow'd the lays,—but love was all he ſung. The gay deſcription could not fail to move; For, led by nature, all are friends to love. But heaven, ſtill various in its works, decreed ' The perfect boaſt of time ſhould laſt ſucceed. - The beauteous union muſt appear at length, Of Tuſcan fancy, and Athenian ſtrength: One greater Muſe Eliza's reign_adorn, ' And even a Shakſpeare to her fame be born, Yet ah! ſo bright her morning's opening ray, In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day. No ſecond growth the weſtern iſle could bear, At once exhauſted with too rich a year. | Too nicely Jonſon knew the critick's part Nature in him was almoſt loſt in art. Of ſofter mold the gentle Fletcher came, The next in order, as the next in name. With pleas'd attention *midfſt his ſcenes we find | Each glowing thought, that warms the female mind ; Fach melting ſigh, and every tender tear, | | The lover's wiſhes, and the virgin's fear. 3 Julius II, the immediate predeceſſor of Leo X. His POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 223 His every ftrain the Smiles and Graces own“; But ſtronger Shakſpeare felt for man alone: Drawn by his pen, our ruder paſſions ſtand Th' unrivall'd picture of his early hand. With gradual ſteps', and ſlow, exacter France Saw Art's fair empire o' er her ſhores advance: By length of toil a bright perfection knew, Correctly bold, and juſt in all ſne drew: | Till late Corneille, with Lucan's“ ſpirit fir'd, Breath'd the free ſtrain, as Rome and He inſpir'd; And claſſick judgment gain'd to ſweet Racine The temperate ſtrength of Maro's chaſter line. But wilder far the Britiſh laurel ſpread, And wreaths leſs artful crown onr poct's head. Yet He alone to every ſcene could give The hiſtorian's.truth, and bid the manners live. Wak'd at his call I view, with glad ſurprize, Majeſtick forms of mighty monarchs riſe, There Henry's trumpets ſpread their loud alarms, And laurel'd Conqueſt waits her hero's arms. Here gentler Edward claims a pitying ſigh, Scarce born to honours, and fo ſoon to die! Yet ſhall thy throne, unhappy infant, bring No beam of comfort to the guilty king : The time ſhall come 7, when Glo'fſter's heart ſhall bleed In life's laſt hours, with horror of the deed: When dreary viſions ſhall at laſt preſent Thy vengeful image in the midnight tent: Thy hand unſeen the ſecret death ſhall bear, Blunt the weak ſword, and break the oppreſſive ſpear. 4 Their characters are thus diſtinguiſhed by Mr. Dryden, 5 About the time of Shakſpeare, the poet Hardy was in great re- pute in France. He wrote, according to Fontenelle, fix hundred plays. The French poets after him applied themſelves in general to the correct improvement of the ſtage, which was almoſt totally diſregarded by thoſe of our own country, Johnſon excepted. Ss The favourite author of the elder Corneille. 7 Turno tempus erit, magno cum optaverit emptum Intactum pallanta, xc. | 4 Where'er 224 POEMS ON SHAKS PE ARE. Where'er we turn, by fancy charm'd, we find Some ſweet illuſion of the cheated mind. Oft, wild of wing, ſhe calls the ſoul to rove With humbler nature, in the rural grove; Where ſwains contented own the quiet ſcene, And twilight fairies tread the circled green : Dreſs'd by her hand, the woods and vallies ſmile, And Spring diffuſive decks the inchanted iſle, O more than all in powerful genius bleſt, Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breaft ! Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart ſhall feel, 'Thy ſongs ſupport me, and thy morals heal. There every thought the poet's warmth may raiſe, There native muſick dwells in all the lays. O might ſome verſe with happieſt {kill perſuade Expreſſive Picture to adopt thine aid! What wondrous draughts might riſe from every page | What other Raphaels charm a diſtant age! Methinks even now I view ſome free deſign, Where breathing Nature lives in every line: Chaſte and ſubdued the modeſt lights decay, Steal into ſhades, and mildly melt away. And ſee, where Anthony *, in tears approv'd, Guards the pale relicks of the chief he lov'd: Ober the cold corſe the warrior ſeems to bend, Deep ſunk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend! Still as they preſs, he calls on all around, Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound. But who is he 9, whoſe brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air ? Awake to all that inj ur'd worth can feel, On his own Rome he turn the avenging ſteel. Yet ſhall not war's inſatiate fury fall (So heaven ordains it) on the deſtin'd wall. See the fond mother, midſt the plaintive train, Hung on his knees, and proſtate on the plain! d See the tragedy of Julius Cæſar. | | 9 Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence's dialogue on the Odyſſey. POEMS ON SHARK SPE ARE. 223 Touch'd to the ſoul, in vain he ftrives to hide The ſon's affection, in the Roman's pride: O'er all the man conflicting paſſions riſe, Rage graſps the ſword, while Pity melts the eyes. What are the lays of artful Addiſon, Coldly correct, to Shakſpeare's warblings wild? Whom on the winding Avon's willow'd banks Fair Fancy found, and bore the ſmiling babe To a cloſe cavern : (ſtill the ſhepherds thew The ſacred place, whence with religious awe They hear, returning from the field at eve, | Strange whiſp'ring of ſweet muſick through the air: ) Here, as with honey gathered from the rock, She fed the little prattler, and with ſongs | Oft ſooth'd his wond' ring ears; with deep delight On her ſoft lap he ſat, and caught the ſounds, The Enthuſiaſt, or the Lover of Nature, a Poem, by the Rev. Joſeph Warton. From the Rev. Thomas Warton's Addreſs to the Queen on her Marriage. Here, boldly mark'd with every living hae, Nature's unbounded portrait Shakſpeare drew : But chief, the dreadful groupe of human woes The daring artiſt's tragick pencil choſe ; Explor'd the pangs that rend the royal breaſt, Thoſe wounds that lurk beneath the tiſſued veſt; Monody, written near Stratford-upon-Avon: Avon, thy rural views, thy paſtures wild, The willows that o'erhang thy twilight edge, Their boughs entangling with the embattled ſedge z Thy brink with watery foliage quaintly fring'd, Thy ſurface with reflected verdure ting'd ; 0 Sooth me with many a penſive pleaſure mild. Vor. 1. 1 [ i ] But 226 POEMS ON SHARK SPEARE. But while I muſe, that here the Bard Divine Whoſe ſacred duſt yon high-arch'd iſles incloſe, Where the tall windows rife in ſtately rows, Above th' embowering ſhade, | Here firſt, at Fancy's fairy-circled ſhrine, Of daiſies pied his infant offering made; Here playtul yet, in ſtripling years unripe, Fram'd of thy reeds a ſhrill and artleſs pipe: Sudden thy beauties, Avon, all are fled, As at the waving of ſome magick wand; An holy trance my charmed ſpirit wings, And aweful ſhapes of leaders and of kings, People the buſy mead, Like ſpectres ſwarming to the wiſard's hall; And ſlowly pace, and point with trembling hand The wounds ill-cover'd by the purple pall. Before me Pity ſeems to ſtand, A weeping mourner, {mote with anguiſh ſore, To ſee Misfortune rend in frantick mood His robe. with regal woes embroider'd o'er. Pale Terror leads the viſionary band, And ſternly ſhakes his ſceptre, dropping blood. | By the ſame.. Far from the ſun and ſummer gale, In thy green lap was Nature's darling laid, What time, where lucid Avon ſtray'd, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face: The dauntleſs child Stretch'd forth his little arms, and ſmil'd. This pencil take (ſhe ſaid) whoſe colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: | Thine too theſe golden keys, immortal boy! This can unlock the gates of joy ; | Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the ſacred ſource of 8 tears. Gray's Ode on the Progreſs of Poeſy. Next Ee POEMS ON SHAKSPEARE. 227 Next Shakſpeare ſat, irregularly great, And in his hand a magick rod did hold, Which viſionary beings did create, And turn the fouleſt droſs to pureſt gold: Whatever ſpirits rove in earth or air, Or bad, or good, obey his dread command; To his beheſts theſe willingly repair, Thoſe aw'd by terrors of his magick wand, The which not all their powers united might withſtand, Lloyd's Progreſs of Envy, 1751, Oh, where?s the bard, who at one view Could look the whole creation through, Who travers'd all the human heart, Without recourſe to Grecian art? He ſcorn'd the rules of imitation, Of altering, pilfering, and tranſlation, Nor painted horror, grief, or rage, From models of a former age; The bright original he took, And tore the leaf from nature's book. *Tis Shakſpeare.— | Lloyd's Shakeſpeare, a Poem. In the firſt ſeat, in robe of various dyes, A noble wildneſs flaſhing from his eyes, Sat Shakſpeare.—In one hand a wand he bore, For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore; The other held a globe, which to his will Obedient turn'd, and own'd a maſter's ſkill : Things of the nobleſt kind his genius drew, And look'd through nature at a ſingle view: A looſe he gave to his unbounded ſoul, | And taught new lands to riſe, new ſeas to roll; Call'd into being ſcenes unknown before, And, paſſing nature's bounds, was ſomething more. Churchill's Roſciad. Fr #1 A LIST A LIST OF THE MOST AUTHENTICK ANCIENT EDITIONS ” o F FED SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. '.QUARTO EDITIONS. 1. Romeo and Juliet, 1597, John Danter. 2. Do. 1599, Thomas Creede, for Cuthbert urby. ö 3. De. no date, John Smethwicke. This play was reprinted in 1609 and 1637. J. King Richard II. 1597, Valentine Simmes, 11 for Andrew Wiſe. : | Reprinted in 1598, 1608, (with an addi- tional ſcene) 1615, nd 1634. King Richard III. 1597, Valentine Simmes, for Andrew Wiſe. Reprinted in 1598, 1602, 1612, 1522, &c. Love's Labour's Loſt, 1598, W. W. for Cuth- bert Burby. King Henry IV. Firſt Part. 2 5. P. S. for V. Andrew Wiſe. | Reprinted in 1599, 1604, 1608, 1613, &c. I. King Henry IV. Second Part. 1600, V. S, for Andrew Wiſe and William Aſpley. VI. 2, D*. 1000; D*.” | In one of theſe editions Sign, E contains fix leaves; in the other the uſual number. Ling Henry V. 1600, Thomas Creede, for VII. 3 Thomas Millington, and John Buſpy. Reprinted 1 in 602, and 1608, ANCIENT EDITIONS, Se. 229 1. Midſummer-Night' 8 Dream, 1600, Thomas VIII Fiſher. 2. Do. 1600, James Roberts. 1. Merchant of Venice, 1600, I. R. for Tho- IX mas Heyes, * } 2. De. 1600, James Roberts. Reprinted in 1637, &c. xXx. $J Much Ado about Nothing, 1600, V. S. for : Andrew Wile and William Aſpley. Merry Wives of Windſor, 1602, T. C. for XI. Arthur Johnſon. Reprinted in 1619, 1. Hamlet, 1604, I. R. for N. L. XII. 4 2. Do. no date, W. S. for John Smethwicke. This play was reprinted in 1605, 1611, &c. 1. King Lear, 1608, for Nathaniel Butter. XIII. 2. D*. 1608, for Do. $ | In _—_ of theſe editions the firſt Signature is A; in the other B. 1. Troilus and Creſſida, 1609, G. Eld, for R vv Bonian and H. Whalley, with a Preface. 2. Do. for D®. by the King's Majeſties Servants at the Globe, no date. XV. Titus Andronicus, 1611, Edward White. xvl. 4 Othello, 1622, N. O. for Thomas Walkely. 8 Fay Doe. no date, Thomas Walkely *. Of all the remaining plays the only authentick copy is the firſt complete collection of our authour's dramas printed in folio in 1623. FOLIO-EDEITION. „ Mr. William Shakſpeare's Comedies, Hiſtories, and Tragedies. Publiſhed according to the true original Copies. 1623. Iſaac Jaggard and Ed. Blount. Reprinted in 1632, 1664, and 1685, Ma TONE. This cor is in Mr. Pope's Lif:, but I have never ſeen it, MALoNE. IP 31 MODERN 230 MODERN EDITIONS MODERN EDITIONS Octavo, Rowe's, London, 1709. 7 Vols. Duodecimo, Rowe's, Ditto, 1714. 9 D. Quarto, Pope's, Ditto, 1725. 6 D. Duodecimo, Pope's, Ditto, 1728. 10 De. Octavo, . Theobald's, Ditto, 1733. 7 De. Duodecimo, Theobald's, Ditto, 1740. . Quarto, Hanmer's, Oxford, 1744. 6 D*. Octavo, Warburton's, London, 1747. 8 D®. Ditto, Johnſon” 5, ditto, 1765. 8 25 Ditto, Steevens's, ditto, 1766. 4 De. Crown 8vo. Capell's, ditto, 1768. 10 Dꝰ. Quarto, Hanmer's, Oxford, 1771, 6 Do. Octavo, Johnſon's and Steevens's, London, 1773. 10.D?, Do. ſecond edition, ditto, 1778. 10 Doe. Do. third edition, ditto, 1785. 10 Do. Crown octavo, Malone's, ditto, 1789, 10 Do. MA LONE. The reader may not be diſpleaſed to know the exact ſums paid to the different Editors of Shakſpeare. The following account is taken from the books of the late Mr. Tonſon. To Mr. Rowe id Mr. Hughes? e 7 © Mr. Pope — 12 0 Mr. Fenton — 12 0 Mr. Gay“ — m — — 19 ©6 Mr. Whatley® _ 20 Mr. Theobalde ͤ bes 10 © Mr. Warburton — 0 © © Dr. Johnſon? | . Mr. Capell — 300 © © af 2 For correcting the preſs and making an index to Mr, Rowe's 12mo edition. STEEVENS. 3 For aſſiſtanee to Mr. Pope in correQing the preſs. R 4 For the ſame ſervices. STEEVENS. S For correcting the ſheets of Pope's 12mo. STxzEVENS. ® Of Mr. Theobald's edition no leſs than 11 360 have been printed. | STEEVENS. 7 From bg iy OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 231 Of theſe editions ſome have paſſed ſeveral times through the preſs; but only ſuch as vary from each other are here enumerated, To this liſt might be added ſeveral ſpurious and mu- tilated impreſſions; but as they appear to have been executed without the ſmalleſt degree of ſkill either in the manners or language of the time of Shakſpeare; and as the names of their reſpective editors are pru- dently concealed, it were uſeleſs to commemorate the number of their volumes, or the diſtinct date of each publication. | 5 | Some of our legitimate editions will afford a ſufficient ſpecimen of the fluctuation of price in books. — An anci- ent quarto was fold for ſix-pence; and the folios 1623 1632, when firſt printed, could not have been rated higher than at ten ſhillings each.—Very lately, one, and two guineas, have been paid for a quarto; the firſt folio is uſually valued at ſeven or eight: but what price may be expected for it hereafter, is not very eaſy to be deter- mined, the conſcience of Mr. Fox, bookſeller in Hol- born, having lately permitted him to aſk no leſs than two guineas for two leaves out of a mutilated copy of that impreſſion, though he had ſeveral, almoſt equally de- fective, in his ſhop. The ſecond folio is commonly rated at two or three guineas 3. 5 At the late Mr. Jacob Tonſon's ſale, in the year 1767, one hundred and forty copies of Mr. Pope's edition of Shakſpeare, in ſix volumes quarto, (for which the ſub- ſcribers paid fix guineas) were diſpoſed of among the bookſellers at ſixteen ſhilliags per ſet. Seven hundred and fifty of this edition were printed. | At the ſame ſale, the remainder of Dr. Warburton's edition, in eight volumes 8vo. printed in 1747, (of which the original price was two pounds eight ſhillings, and 7 From the late Mr. Tonſon's books it appears, that Dr. Johnſon received copies of his edition for his ſubſcribers, the firſt coſt of which was 375. and afterwards Iogl. in money. Total, 480l. MAaLone., s And is not worth three ſhillings, See an account of it, in the preface to the preſent edition. MaroNnr, : (P4] the 232 MODERN EDITIONS, &e. the number printed 1000) was ſold off: viz. 178 copies, at eighteen ſhillings each. 1 On the contrary, Sir Thomas Hanmer's edition, print. ed at Oxford in 1744, which was firſt ſold for three guineas, had ariſen to nine or-ten, before it was re- printed. | | | It appears however from the foregoing catalogue (when all reiterations of legitimate editions are taken into the account, together with five ſpurious ones printed in Ireland, one in Scotland, one at Birmingham, and four in London, making in the whole thirty-five impreſſions) that not leſs than 35, ooo copies of our authour's works have been diſperſed, excluſive of the quartos, ſingle plays, and ſuch as have been altered for the ſtage. Of the latter, as exact a lift as I have been able to form, with the aſſiſtance of Mr. Reed of Staple Inn, (than whom no man 1s more converſant with Engliſh publications both ancient and modern, or more willing to aſſiſt the literary undertakings of others) will be found in the courſe of the following pages. STEEVENS. | THE A LIST OF THE MOST AUTHENTICK ANCIENT EDITIONS | | o F S HAKS PEAR Es POEMS. 1. Venus and Adonis 1595, ſmall octavo, or rather decimo ſexto, R. F. for John Harriſon. This poem, I have no doubt, was printed in quarto in 1593 or 1594, though no copy of the edi- tion is now known to be extant, Reprinted in 1600, 1602, 1617, 1620, 1630, &c. 2, Lucrece, quarto, 1594, Richard Field, for John Harriſon. | Reprinted in ſmall octavo, in 1596, 1598, 1600, 1607, 1616, 1624, 1632, &c. 3. The Paſſionate Pilgrim, [being a collection of Poems by Shakſpeare, ] ſmall octavo, 1599, for W. Jaggard ; ſold by William Leake. 4. The Paſſionate Pilgrime, or certain amorous Sonnets | between Venus and Adonis, &c. The third edition, | ſmall octavo, 1612, W. Jaggard. I know not when the ſecond edition was printed. 5. Shakſpeare's Sonnets, never before imprinted, quarto, 1609, G. Eld, for T. T. An edition of Shakſpeare's Sonnets, differing in many particulars from the original, and intermixed with the poems contained in The Paſhonate Pilgrim, and with ſeveral poems written by Thomas Heywood, was printed in 1640, in ſmall octavo, by Thomas Cotes, ſold by John Benſon. MODERN EDITIONS. Shakſpeare's Poems, ſmall octavo, for Bernard Lintot, no date, but printed in 1710. The Sonnets in this edition were printed from the quarto of 1609; Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece, from very late editions, full of errors. The 234 DRAM ATICK PIECES, &c. The Poems of William Shakſpeare, containing his Ve- nus and Adonis, Rape of Lucrece, Sonnets, Paſ- fionate Pilgrim, and A Lover's Complaint, printed from the authentick copies, by e in octavo, in 1780. De. Second Edition, with the authour's plays, crown octavo, 1789. Spurious Editions of Shakſpeare” s Poems have alſo been publiſhed by Gildon, Sewell, Evans, &c. MALONE. 2 ä _ DRAMATICE PIECES ON WHICH PLAYS WERE FORMED BY SHAKSPEARE. The right. excellent and famous hiſtorye of Promos and Caſſandra, &c, by George I. Whetſtone, 1578. Printed "ue — Jhones. The firſt and ſecond part of the troubleſome | raigne of John King of England; &c. As they were ſundry times publickely acted by the Queenes Majeſties players in the honourable citie of London, 1591, for Sampſon Clarke, Reprinted in 1611, and 1622. FI, Menzchmi, a pleaſant and fine conceited co- WL: medie, &c. by W. W. 1595, Thomas Creede, for William Barley. Containing the honourable battle of Agin- IV, court. As it was plaide by the Queenes Mageſties players, 1 598, Thomas Creede. OY in ** V. 1. ö L 1 famous Victories of Henry the Fifth: SS. a Ws H * 7 A Y 5 e 7)JVVd c ͤ Oo * ; 2 8 * On Pena def 55 avi: 0: phy # * oo 9 14 3 Ro, 5 Ig 3 JJ EDS en oy te, = 22 © . Wa FO n %%% Ä 5 n of 5 4 88 n n * 5 . * U DRAMATICK PIECES, &. 235 1. The firſt part of the contention betwixt the 1 two famous houſes of Vorke and Lancaſter, with the death of the good duke Humphrey, 1 &c. As it was ſundry times acted by the x right honourable the Earle of Pembroke his Servants, 1600, W. W. for Thomas Millington. 2. De. 1600, V. S. for Thomas Millington. This was reprinted for T. P. without date, but in fact in 1619. i. The true tragedie of Richarde duke of Yorke, and the death of good king Henrie the | Sixt, &c. As it was ſundry times acted VI. $ by the right honourable the Earl of Pem- broke his Servants, 1600, W. W. for Tho- mas Millington. : 2. Do. 1600, V. S. for Thomas Millington. This was reprinted for T. P. without date, but in fact in 1619. | The true chronicle hiſtory of King Leir and his VII three daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and ; Cordelia, 1605, Simon Stafford, for John Wright. A pleaſaunt conceited Hiſtorie, called, The Taming of a Shrew, As it hath beene ſun- VIII. dry times acted by the right honourable the Earle of Pembrooke his Servants, _ V. S, for Nicholas Ling. MALOR E. LIST LIST or PLAYS ALTII ED FROM SHAKSPEARE, INVENIES ETIAM DISJECTI MEMBRA POETAE. | ' Tempeſt. The Tempeſt, or the Enchanted Iſland. A Comedy, ated in Dorſet Garden. By Sir W. D*Avenant and Dryden. 4to. 1669. j The Tempeſt, made into an opera by Shadwell in 1673. See Downes, p. 34. The Tempeſt, an Opera taken from Shakſpeare. As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. By Mr. Garrick. 8vo. 1756. | Two Gentlemen of Verona. The Two Gentlemen of Verona. A Comedy written by Shakſpeare, with alterations and additions, as it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, By Mr. Victor, 8vo. 1763. | Merry Wiwes of Windſor. The Comical Gallant, or the Amours of Sir John Fal- ſtaffe. A Comedy, as it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, by his Majeſties Servants. By Mr. Dennis. 4to. 1702. 5 Meaſure for Meaſure. b The Law againſt Lovers, by Sir William D'Avenant. ol. 1673. ; ror LA for Meaſure, or Beauty the beſt Advocate, As it is acted at the Theatre in Lincolns Inn Fields; written originally by Mr. Shakſpeare, and now very much altered: with additions of ſeveral Entertainments of Muſick, By Mr. Gildon. 4to. 1700, Comedy of Errors. The Comedy of Errors, as it is ated at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden. Altered by Mr. Hull. Much Ado about Nothing. The Law againſt Lovers. By Sir W. Davenant. Fol. 1673. | | The Univerſal Paſſion. A Comedy as it is acted - | tne PLAYS ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE. 237 the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, by his Majeſties Ser- vants. By James Miller. 8vo. 1737. Lowe's Labour's Loft. The Students, a Comedy altered from Shakſpeare's Love's Labour's Loſt, and adapted to the ſtage. 8vo. 1762. | b Midſummer-NMight's Dream. The Humours of Bottom the Weaver, by Robert Cox. tO. | The Fairy Queen, an Opera, repreſented at tha Queen's Theatre by their Majeſties Servants. 4to. 1692. Pyramus and Thiſbe, a Comick Maſque, written by Richard Leveridge, performed at Lincoln's Inn Fields, 8vo. 1716. | Pyramus and Thiſbe, a Mock Opera, written by Shak- ſpeare. Set to muſick by Mr. Lampe. Performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden. 8vo. 1745. The Fairies, an Opera, taken from a Midſummer- | Night's Dream written by Shakſpeare, as it is perform- ed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, By Mr. Gar- rick. 8vo. 1755. | A Midſummer-Night's Dream, written by Shakſpeare, with Alterations and Additions, and ſeveral new Songs. As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. 8vo.. 1763. : A Fairy Tale, in two acts, taken from Shakſpeare. As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. 8vo. 1763. 5 | Merchant of Venice. The Jew of Venice, a Comedy. As it is acted at the Theatre in Little Lincoln's Inn Fields, by his Majeſty's Servants. By George Granville, Eſq. (afterwards Lord Lanſdowne.) 4to. 1701. A, you like it. Love in a Foreſt, a Comedy. As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, by his Majeſty's Servants. By C. Johnſon, 8vo. 1723. | _ e 238 PLAYS ALTERED FROM sHAKSPEARE. The Modern Receipt, or a Cure for Love. A Co- medy altered from Shakſpeare. The Dedication is ſigned J. C. 12mo. 1739. — Taming of the Shrew, Sawny the Scott, or the Taming of the Shrew; a Co- medy, as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal, and never before printed. By John Lacy. 4to. 1698. ' The Cobler of Preſton, a Farce, as it is acted at the New Theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, By Chriſtopher Bullock. 12mo. 1716. The Cobler of Preſton, as it acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane by his Majeſty's Servants. By C. Johnſon. 8 vo. 1716. A Cure for a Scold, a Ballad Opera, by James Worſ- dale, 8yo. Taken from the Taming of the Shrew, 12MO. 1738. Catharine nd Petruchio. By Mr. Garrick. 8vo. 1756. : 3 5 Tale. The Winter's Tale, a Play altered from Shakſpeare. By Charles Marſh. 8vo. 1756. Florizel and Perdita, by Mr. Garrick. 8vo. 1758. Sheepſhearing, or Florizel and Perdita, by —. Dublin. 12mo. 1767, The Sheep-ſhearing: a Dramatick Paſtoral, In three acts. Taken from Shakſpeare, As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket, 8vo. 1777. Macbeth, Macbeth, a Tragedy, with all the Alterations, Amend- ments, Additions, and new Songs; as it is now acted at the Duke's Theatre. By Sir William D'Avenant. 4to. 1674. The Hiſtorical Tragedy of Macbeth (written orig i- nally by Shakſpeare) newly adapted to the ſtage, with Alterations, as performed at the Theatre in Edinburgh. 8 vo. 1753. King ds „ 20 4 PLAYS ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE. 239 King Tohn, Papal Tyranny in the Reign of King John, a Tra- gedy; as it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, by his Majeſty's Servants. By Colley Cibber. 8vo. 1744 K. Richard II. The Hiſtory of King Richard the Second. Acted at the Theatre Royal under the title of the Sicilian Uſur- per: with a prefatory Epiſtle in vindication of the Au- thour, occaſioned by the Prohibition of his Play on the Stage. By N. Tate. 4to. 1681. be The Tragedy of King Richard II. altered from Shak- ſpeare. By Lewis Theobald. 8vo. 1720. King Richard II. a Tragedy, altered from Shakſpeare, and the ftile imitated, By James Goodhall. Printed at Mancheſter. 8vo. 1772. King Henry IV. Part I. King Henry IV. with the Humours of Sir John Fal- ſtaff; a Tragi-comedy, as it is acted at the Theatre in Little Lincoln's Inn Fields, by his Majeſty's Servants. Revived with, Alterations, By Mr. Betterton, 4to. King Henry IV. Part Il. The Sequel of Henry IV. with the Humours of Sir John Falſtaff and Juſtice Shallow; as it is acted by his Majeſty's Company of Comedians at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. Altered from Shakſpeare by the late Mr. Betterton. 8vo. No date. King Henry VI. Three Parts. Henry the Sixth, the Firſt Part, with the Murder of Humphrey Duke of Gloceſter. As it was acted at the Duke's Theatre. By John Crowne. 4to. 1681. Henry the Sixth, the Second Part, or the Miſery of Civil War, As it was acted at the Duke's Theatre. By John Crowne, 4to. 1681, Humfrey 240 PLAYS ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE, HFumfrey Duke of Glouceſter, a Tragedy, as it is act- ed at the 'Theatre Royal in Drury Lane by his Majeſty's Servants. [A few ſpeeches and lines , borrowed from Shakſpeare.] By Ambroſe Philips. : An Hiſtorical Tragedy of the Civil Wars in the Reign of King Henry VI. (being a Sequel to the Tragedy of Humfrey Duke of Glouceſter, and an Introduction to the . Tragical Hiſtory of King Richard III.) Altered from Shakſpeare in the year 1720. By Theo. Cibber. 8vo. No date. is King Richard III. The Tragical Hiſtory of King Richard III. Altered from Shakſpeare. By Colley Cibber. Ds Coriolanus. The Ingratitude of a Commonwealth, or the Fall of Caius Martius Coriolanus. As it 1s acted at the Theatre Royal. By Nahum Tate. 4to. 1682. | | The Invader of his Country, or the Fatal Reſentment. As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, by his Majeſty's Servants. By John Dennis. 8vo. 1720. Coriolanus, or the Roman Matron, a Tragedy, taken from Shakſpeare and Thomſon. As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden : to which 1s added the Order of the Ovation. By Thomas Sheridan, 8vo. 1755. ho ; Julius Ceſar. The Tragedy of Julius Cæſar, with the Death of Bru- tus and Caſſius: written originally by Shakſpeare, and ſince altered by Sir William D'Avenant and John Dry- den, Poets Laureat ; as it is now acted by his Majeſty's Company of Comedians at the Theatre Royal. To which is prefixed the Life of Julius Cæſar, abſtracted from Plutarch and Suetonius. 12mo. 1719. | The Tragedy of Julius Cæſar, altered, with a Pro- logue and Chorus. 4to. 1722. | The Tragedy of Marcus Brutus, with the Prologue and the two laſt Choruſſes. 4to. 1722. Both by John Sheffield Duke of Buckingham, 9 | Antony = | PLAYS ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE. 24x Antony and Cleopatra. Antony and Cleopatra, an Hiſtorical Play, written by William Shakſpeare, fitted for the ftage by abridging only; and now acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane by his Majeſty's Servants. By Edward Capell. 12MO. 1758, | 33 _ - Timon bf .. << The Hiſtory of Timon of Athens, the Man-hater. As it is acted at the Duke's Theatre; made into a Play, by Tho. Shadwell. 4to. 1678. | Timon of Athens. As it is acted at the Theatre Royal on Richmond Green. Altered from Shakſpeare and Shadwell, By James Love. 8vo. 1768. | Timon of Athens, altered from Shakſpeare, a Trage- dy, as it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, By Mr. Cumberland. 8vo. 1771. £ Titus Andronicus. . Titus Andronicus, or the Rape of Lavinia. Acted at the Theatre Royal. A Tragedy, altered from Mr. Shakſpeare's Works. By Edward Ravenſcroft. 4to. 1687. i 8 Troilus and Creſſida. Troilus and Creflida, or Truth found too late. A Tragedy, as it is ated at the Duke's Theatre, By John Dryden. 4to. 1679. | | Cymibeline. The Injured Princeſs, or the Fatal Wager. As it was acted at the Theatre Royal, by his Majeſty's Servants, By Tho. Durfey. 4to. 1682. Cyvyabeline, King of Great Britain, a Tragedy written by Shakſpeare, with ſome alterations. By Charles Marſh. 8vo. 1755. | Cymbeline, a Tragedy, altered from Shakſpeare. As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, By W. Hawkins. 8vo. 1759. | Cymbeline, altered by Mr. Garrick in the ſame year. Vor, I. al King | b [ 0 r — ᷑̃ĩ V ² w ES 2 HO Ae — —[ Br) Eton 242 PLAYS ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE. King Lear. The Hiſtory of King Lear, acted at the Duke's Thea- tre. Revived with Alterations, By Nahum Tate. 4to. 168 1. : | The Hiſtory of King Lear, as it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, By George Colman, 8vo. 1768. „„ | | Romeo and Juliet. | Romeo and Juliet, altered into a Tragi-comedy, by James Howard, Eſq. See Downes, p. 22. | Caius Marius, by Tho, Qtway, 4to. 1680. Romeo and Juliet, a Tragedy, reviſed and altered from Shakſpeare. By Theo. Cibber. 8vo. No date. Romeo and Juliet, altered by Mr. Garrick. 12mo. From the Preface to the Republication of Marſh's Cymbeline in 1762, it appears. that he had likewiſe made an alteration of Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, - Hamlet, altered by Mr. Garrick, N & * Fe e N 5 R 88 Wb . 8 es F.. A AR etc nf 2 e e . ws 8 2 x * We” N * N 9 2 a . I = 8 ä * 8 9 * N 1 — List or DETACHED PIECES or Csiricisu on SHAKSPEARE, EIS EpiTokrs, &c. A ſhort View of Tragedy; its original, excellency, and corruption. With ſome Reflections on Shakſpeare and other Practitioners for the Stage. By Mr. Rymer, Ser- vant to their Majeſties. Small 8vo. 1693. Some Reflections on Mr. Rymer's Short View of Tra- gedy, and an Attempt at a Vindication of Shakſpeare, in an Eſſay directed to John Dryden, Eſq. By Charles Gildon.—This tract is found on ly in Gildon's Mi/cellanzous Letters and Effays on ſeveral ſabjeXs, ſmall 8. 1694. Remarks on the Plays of Shakſpeare. By C. Gildon, $yo. Printed at the end of the ſeventh volume of Rowe's edition. 1710. 5 An Eſſay on the Genius and Writings of Shakſpeare, with ſome Letters of Criticiſm to the Spectator. By Mr. Dennis. 8vo, 1712. Shakſpeare reſtored : or a Specimen of the many Errors as well committed as unamended, by Mr. Pope in his late Edition of this Poet. Deſigned not only to corre& the ſaid Edition, but to reſtore the true Reading of Shakſpeare in all the Editions ever yet publiſhed. By Mr. Theobald. 4to. 1726. = An Anſwer to Mr. Pope's Preface to Shakſpeare, in a letter to a friend, being a Vindication of the old Actors who were the publiſſiers and performers of that Author's Plays. Whereby the Errors of their Edition are further accounted for, and ſome Memoirs of Shakſpeare and the Stage Hiſtory of his Time are inſerted, which were never before collected and publiſhed. By a ſtrolling Player. [John Roberts. ] 8vo. 1729. Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark, written by William Shakſpeare. Printed for W. Wilkins in Lombard Street. 8 vo. 1735. "nas Explanitory 244 CRITICISMS ON SHAKSPEARE, &c. Explanatory and Critical Notes on divers Paſſages of Shakſpeare's Plays, by Francis Peck. Printed with his „New Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Mr. John Milton.“ 4to. 1740. e An Eſſay towards fixing the true Standards of Wit and Humour, Raillery, Satire, and Ridicule: to which is added an Analyſis of the Characters of an Humouriſt, Sir John Falſtaff, Sir Roger de Coverley, and Pon Quixote. [By Corbyn Morris, Eſq.] 8vo. 1744. Miſcellaneous Obſervations on the Tragedy of Mac- beth: with Remarks on Sir Thomas Hanmer's Edition of Shakſpeare. To which is affixed—Propoſals for a new Edition of Shakſpeare, with a Specimen. [By Dr, Sa- muel Johnſon. ] 12mo. 1745. A Word or two of Advice to William Warburton, a Dealer in many words. By a Friend. [Dr. Grey. ] With an Appendix containing a taſte of William's ſpirit of railing. 8vo. 1746 | Critical Obſervations on Shakſpeare: by John Upton, Prebendary of Rocheſter. 8vo, Firſt Edition, 1746. Second Edition, 1748. Eſſay on Engliſh Tragedy, with Remarks on the Abbẽ Le Blanc's Obſervations on the Engliſh Stage. By Wil- liam Guthrie, Eſq, 8vo. no date, but printed in 1747. An Enquiry into the Learning of Shakſpeare, with Remarks on ſeveral Paſſages of his Plays. In a Conver- ſation. between Eugenius and Neander. By Peter Whal- ley, A. B. Fellow of St. John's College Oxford. 8vo. I 748. a | An Anſver td certain Paſſages in Mr. W——'s Preface to his Edition of Shakſpeare, together with ſome Re- marks on the many Errors and falſe Criticiſms in the Wark itſelf. 8vo. 1748. Remarks upon a late Edition of Shakſpeare: with a long ſtring of Emendations borrowed by the celebrated | | | Editor 28 AN CRITICISMS ON SHAESPEARE, &e. 245 Editor from the Oxford Edition without acknowledg- ment. To which is prefixed a Defence of the late Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bart. Addreſſed to the Rev. Mr. War- burton, Preacher of Lincoln's Inn, &c. 8vo. No date. The Canons of Criticiſm and Gloſſary, being a Sup- plement to Mr. Warburton's Edition of Shakſpeare. Col. lected from the Notes in that celebrated Work, and pro- per to be bound up with it. By the other Gentleman of Lincoln's Inn. [Mr. Edwards.] Firſt Edition, 8 vo. 1748. Seventh Edition, with Additions. 8 vo. 1765. Remarks on Shakſpeare by Mr. Roderick, are printed at the end of this Edition. 8 An Attempte to reſcue that aunciente Engliſh Poet and Play-wrighte Maiſter Williame Shakſpeare from the many errours faulſely charged on him by certaine new-fangled Wittes; and to let him ſpeak for himſelf, as right well he wotteth, when freede from the many careleſs miſtakings of the heedleſs firſt Imprinters of his Workes. By a Gentleman formerly of Gray's Inn, [Mr. Holt.]. 8vo. I „% Miſcellaneous Obſervations on the Tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark: with a Preface containing ſome general Remarks on the Writings of Shakſpeare. 8vos, 1 | The Beauties of Shakſpeare : regularly ſelected from | each Play : with a general Index digeſting them under proper Heads. IIluſtrated with explanatory Notes, and ſimilar Paſſages from ancient and modern Authors. By William Dodd; B. A. late of Clare Hall, Cambridge, 2 Vols. 12mo. Firſt Edition, 1752, Second Edition, 1757. Third Edition in 3 Vols. es | : Shakſpeare illuſtrated : or the Novels and Hiſtories on which tne Plays of Shakſpeare are founded, collected and tranſlated from the original Authors, with critical Re- marks. In two Volumes. [By Mrs. Lenox.] 12mo. 7 | PE A third Volume with the ſame Title, 1754. [Q3] The ed anc ne !! EE DS 2 ———— * W — — ſ—— wah — — * 5 N P a. 4 * * — 14 Gs — — * FL neee * * C&S . 11 2 * * * 5 * eo . _ - ry re ins 4 ”1 * 4 & ! % . , 1 1 1 & 4+ * [4 246 CRITICISMS ON SHAKSPFARE, &c. The Novel from which the Play of the Merchant of Venice written by Shakſpeare, is taken, tranſlated from the Italian. To which is added, a Tranſlation of a Novel from the Decamerone of Boccaccio. 8vo. 1755. Critical, Hiſtorical, and Explanatory Notes on Shak - ſpeare, with Emendations of the Text and Metre : by Zachary Grey, LL. D. 2 Vols. 8vo. 1755. The Caftrated Letter of Sir Thomas Hanmer, in the Sixth Volume of BIioRAPHIA BRITANNICA, where- in is diſcovered the firft riſe of the preſent Biſhop of Glouceſter's quarrel with that Baronet, about his edition of Shakſpeare's plays: to which is added an impartial account of the extraordinary means uſed to ſuppreſs this remarkable letter, By a Proprietor of that ke (Philip Nichols.] 4to. 1763. A Reviſal of Shakſpeare's Text, wherein the Altera- | tions introduced into it by the more Modern Editors and Criticks are particularly conſidered. (By Mr. Heath.] 8vo. 1765. A Review of Dr. Johnſon's New Edition of Shak- | ſpeare; in which the Ignorance or Inattention of that Editor is expoſed, and the Poet defended from the Per- ſecution of his Commentators. By W. Kenrick. zvo. 1765. An Examination of Mr. Kenrick's Review of Mr. Johnſon's Edition of Shakſpeare. [By] Mr. Barclay. 8vo. 17:6. A Defence of Mr. Kenrick's Review of Dr. Johnſon's Shakſpeare, containing a number of curious and ludi- crous Anecdotes. of Literary Biography. By a Friend. li. e. W. Kenrick. ] 8vo. 1766. Obiervations and Conjectures on ſome Paſſages of Shakefpeare. By Tho. Tyrwhitt, Eſq.] 8vo. 1766. An Eſſay on the Learning of Shakſpeare, addreſſed to Joſeph Cradock, Eſq. By the Rev. Dr. Richard Farmer. 8v0, 1707. Second Edition, crown 8v0. 1767. e A LT - CRITICISMS ON SHARK SPE ARE, Kc. 247 ALetter to David Garrick, Eſq. concerning a Gloſſary to the Plays of Shakſpeare, on a more extenſive Plan than has hitherto appeared. To which is added a Spe- cimen. By Richard Warner, Eſq. 8 vo. 1768. An Eſſay on the Writings and Genius of Shakſpeare, compared with the Greek and French Dramatick Poets, with ſome Remarks upon the Miſrepreſentations of Mon- fieur de Voltaire. By Mrs. Montagu. 8 vo. Firſt Edi- tion, 1769. Second Edition, 1776. 355 The Tragedy of King Lear as lately publiſhed, vin- dicated from the Abuſe of the Critical Reviewers ; and the wonderful Genius and Abilities of thoſe Gentlemen for Criticiſm, ſet forth, celebrated, and extolled. By the Editor of King Lear. [Charles Jennens, Eſq.} 8vo. 1772. : | | Shakſpeare, 4to. This piece was written by Dr. Kenrick Preſcott, and is dated Feb. 5, 1774. Curſory Remarks on Tragedy, on Shakſpeare, and og certain French and Italian Poets, &c. Crown 8vo. 1774. A Philoſophical Analyſis and Illuſtration of ſome of Shakſpeare's, remarkable CharaQters. By William Rich- ardſon, Eſq. Profeſſor of Humanity in the Univerſity of Glaſgow, 12mo. Firſt Edition, 1773. Second Edition, 17741. . The Morality of Shakſpeare's Drama illuſtrated. By Mrs. Griffith. 8 vo. 1775. | A Letter to George Hardinge, Eſq. on the Subject of a Paſſage in Mr. Steevens's Preface to his Impreſſion of Shakſpeare, [By the Rev. Mr. Collins.] 4to. 1777. [Dr. Johnſon obſerved of this performance, that it was © a great gun without powder and ball.””] On the title- page of a copy of it preſented by Mr. Capell, together with his Sha#/peariana, to Trinity College, Cambridge, is the following Mſ. note: Seen through the preſs by Mr. H, &c. Note in p. 18 added, and the poſt- {cript new-molded by him. E. C.“ i. e. Edward Capell. iFQs] Diſcours — £ A * * o 79 5 BY * 4 * * * 1 * j (i 4 4 4. 4 —_ 'q4 C 0 | 85 _ ly f, h 248 CRITICISMS ON SHAKSPEARE, &c. Diſcours ſur Shakſpeare et ſur Monſieur de Voltaire, par Joſeph Baretti, Secretaire pour la Correſpondence etrangere de TV Academie Royale W 8vo. 1777. An Eſſay on the Dramatick Character of Sir 285 Fal- ſtaff. [By Mr. Morgan.] 8vo. 1777. A Letter from Monſieur de n to the French Academy. Tranſlated from the original Edition juſt publiſhed at Paris. 8vo. 1777. A Supplement to the edition of Shakſpeare's plays publiſhed in 1778. —Containing Additional Obſerva- tions by ſeveral of the former Commentators ; to which are ſubjoined the . Genuine Poems of the ſame authour, and Seven Plays that have been aſcribed to him; with Notes, by the editor [Mr. Malone] and others. 2 Vols. 8vo. 1780. Notes and Various Readings to Shakſpeare, by Ed- | ward Capell. 3 vols. 4to. 1781. Remarks critical and illuſtrative on the text and notes of the laſt edition of Shakſpeare. [i. e. Mr. Steevens' 3 edition in 778. ] 8vo. 1783. A familiar addreſs to the curious in Englith poetry, more particularly to the readers of Shakſpeare. BV Therſites Literarius. 8vo. 1784. A Second Appendix to Mr. Malone's Supplement to the laſt edition of the plays of Shakſpeare; containing additional obſervations by the editor of the Supplement, 8vo. 1783.—Of this appendix only fifty Copies were printed. Eſſays on Shakſpeare? s dramatick characters of Rich- ard the Third, King Lear, and Timon of Athens. To which are added, an Eſſay on the faults of Shakſpeare, and additional obſervations on the character of Hamlet. By Mr. Richardſon, 12mo. 1784, Y Dramatick CRITICISMS ON SHAKSPEARE, Kc. 249 Dramatick Miſcellanies, conſiſting of Critical Ob- fervations on the plays of Shakſpeare, &c. By Thomas Davies. 3 vols. crown 8vo. 1784. Comments on the Jaſt edition of Shakſpeare's plays. By John Monck Maſon, Eſq. 8vo. 1785. Remarks on ſome of the characters of Shakſpeare. By the author of O&/ervations on Modern Gardening. 8v0. 47855. Macbeth Reconſidered, an Eſſay; intended as an anſwer to part of the Remarks on ſome of the characters of Shakſpeare. 8 vo. 1786. A Concordance to Shakſpeare; ſuited to all the edi- tions, &c. 8vo. 1787. This book is not what it profeſſes to be, being only a number of paſſages in Shakſpeare's plays, ill ſelected, and abſurdly arranged. The Quip Modeſt; a few words by way of ſupplement to Remarks, Critical and Illuſtrative, on the text and notes of the laſt edition of Shakſpeare, &c. 8vo. 1788. The authour of this pamphlet, after a few copies had got abroad, had the modefty to ſuppreſs it. Some time afterwards, repenting as it were of his repentance, he iſſued it out. One inftance may be ſufficient to ſhew his profound ignorance of the poet whom he attempted to illuſtrate; he ſuppoſed the words ignomy and intergatory, in a late edition of Shakſpeare, to be erronrs of the preſs ! So, when the clown in Meaſure for Meaſure ſays, there were but two ſtew'd prunes in the houſe, which at that very diſtant time ſtood, as it were in a fruit-diſn, &c. this Remarker, for di/?art, would read infant. A liſt of ſuch errours may be _ enlarged. When Dame Quickly talks of a honey-/uckle villain, and Mer- cutio ſpeaks of the nurſe's inditing Romeo to ſupper, according to the crude notions of this QUIPsTER, we ought for Honeyſuchle to ſubſtitute homicidal, for indie, gnvite, &c. &c. | | Voc. I. tag! EXTRACTS 4 N 0 * 1 yu + 1 ' 0 EXTRACTS OF ENTRIES ON TH E Books of the STATIONERS? CoMPaANYe Charter was granted to the Company of Stationers on the 4th of May, 1556, (third and fourth of Philip and Mary,) and was confirmed by Queen Eliza- beth in 1560. . The firſt volume of theſe Entries has been either loſt or deſtroyed, as the earlieſt now to be found is lettered B.. The hall was burnt in the fire of London. The entries begin July 17, 1576. Feb. 18, 1582. | e. M. Tottell.] Romeo and Juletta *. p. 193 April 3, 1592. Edw. White.] The tragedie of Arden of Fever- ' ſham and Black Wills. 286 N. B. The terms book and Ballad were anciently uſed to ſignify dramatick works as well as any other forms of compoſition; while tragedy and comedy were titles very often beſtowed on novels of the ſerious and the lighter kind. STEEVENS. . 1 Since this was written, the firſt volume, marked A, has been found. MALONE. „ z Perhaps the original work on which Shakſpeare founded his play of Romeo and Juliet. STEEVENS. 3 This play was reprinted in 1770 at Feverſham, with a preface attributing it to Shakſpeare. The collection of parallel paſſages which the editor has brought forward to Juſtify his ſuppoſition, is ſuch as will make the reader ſmile. The following is a ſpecimen : Arden of Fever ſham, p. 74» « Fling down Endimion, and ſnatch him up.” Merchant of Venice, AQ Y, ſc. i. a « Peace! how the moon ſleeps with Endymion!“ Arden of Fever ſbam, p. 87. «© Let my death make amends for all my fin.” Mach Ado about Nothing, Act IV. bt; ii. 5 « Death is the faireft cover for her ſhame,” S TEE VIN«s. April . £24 ths 3 SF LONG. n e * A IT WA EIU IR Ns : C . 1 N FE OS os Z (( 7 . 5 AID; Th 8 8 YE 3 TN. FIBER I, 4 . * e POW SR IFSIE TYFRASE 4 42s. 7 ED 9 r FI "Wh N 8 N 5 I Ex 2 8 : TE AL ape) Vis a . a SC 2 LIE. TIT, ESD KS 5 . „ SE I Iva CCC * * . " ES, W 4 28 SE SLID S ENTRIES, &. 251 | April 18, 1593. Rich, Field.] A booke entitled Venus and Adonis“. 297 b. ES Afterwards entered by —— Harriſon, ſen. June 23, 1594: by W. Leake, June 23. 1599: by W. Barrett, Feb. 16. 1616, and by John Parker, March 8, 1619. Oct. 19, 593. Symon Waterſon.] A booke entitled the Trage- die of Cleopatra s. 301 b. Feb. 6, 1593 John Danter.] A booke entitled a noble Roman Hiſtory ot 'Vitus Andronicus 304 by Entered alſo unto him by warrant from Mr. Woodcock, the ballad thereof. March 12. 1593. Tho. Millington.] A booke entituled the Firſt Part of the Contention of the twoo fa- mous Houſes of Yorke and Lancaſter, with the Deathe of the good Duke Hum- phrie, and the Baniſhment and Deathe of the Duke of Yorke, and the tragical Ende of the proude Cardinall of Win- cheſter, with the notable Rebellion of Jacke Cade, and the Duke of Yorke's firſt Claime unto the Crown, 305 b. 4 The laſt ſtanza of a poem entitled “ Mirrha the Mother of Adonis; or Luſtes Prodegies, by William Barkſted, 1607, has the following praiſe of Shakſpeare's Venus and Adonis. . & But ſtay, my muſe, in thy own confines keepe, And wage not warre with ſo deere-lov'd a neighbor; « But, having ſung thy day - ſong, reſt and ſleepe, « Preſerve thy ſmall fame and his greater favor. 4 His ſong was worthie merit, (Shakſpeare hee) « Sung the faire bloſſome, thou the withered tree: & Laurel is due to him ; his art and wit c Hath purchas'd it; cypres thy brow will fit.” STEZV RNS. 5 I ſuppoſe this to be Daniel's tragedy of Cleopatra, Simon Waters fon was one of the printers of his other works. STEEVENS. Daniel's Cleopatra was publiſhed by Waterſon in 1594; this entry therefore undoubtedly related to it. MALONEs | | | | May 252 ENTRIES ON THE May 2, 1594. Peter Shorte. ] A pleaſaunt conceyted hy ſtorie called the Tayminge of a Shrowe ©. 306 b. | May 9, 1594. Mr, Harriſon Sen.] A booke entitled the Ravyſh- ment of Lucrece. 306 b. | May 12, 1594. | Tho. Strode.] A booke entituled the famous Vic- tories of Henry the Fift, containing the honorable Battell of Agincourt “. 306 b. May 14, 1594 Edw. White.] A booke entituled the famous Chronicle Hiſtorye of Leire King of i England and his three Daughters ö. 307 1 May 22, 1594. | Edw. White.] A booke intituled a Winter Nyghts my Paſtme?, 307 b. = June 19, 1594. = | Tho. Creede.] An enterlude entitled the Tragedie = of Richard the Third, wherein is ſhown = : the Death of Edward rhe Fourthe, with | the Smotheringe of the twoo Princes in 4 the Tower, with the lamentable End of L Shore's Wife, and the Contention of the 3 = two Houſes of Lancaſter and York*. 309 b. . 6 I conceive it to be the 90 that furniſhed Shakſpeare with the materials which he afterwards worked up into another with the ſame title. STEEVENS. 7 This might have been the very diſpleafug play mentioned in the epilogue to the ſecond part of King Henry IV. STEEVENS. The earlieſt edition of this play now known to be extant, was printed in 1598, Of that cdition I have a copy. This piece furniſhed Shakſpeare with the outline of the two parts of X. Henry IV. as well as with that of X. Henry V. MATLONE. 8 I ſuppoſe this to be the play on the ſame ſubject as that of our author, but written before it. STEEVENS. Query, if the Winter's Tale. STEEVEN S.. 1 This could not have been the work of Shakſpeare, as the death of : Jay Bl Jane Shore makes no part of his drama. STEEVENS. Sb 8 5 A 1 * © * 1 P SY r N CG is Tv OE On OT IE 25 Or RT < 9 0? Oe 4. 2 STATTIONERS“ REGISTERS. 253 July 20, 1594. | Tho, Creede.] The lamentable Tragedie of Lo- crine, the eldeſt Son of K. Brutus, diſ- courſinge the Warres of the Britains, &c. 310 h. Vol. C. Before the beginning of this volume are placed, two leaves containing irregular entries, prohibi- tions, notes, &c. Among theſe are the following. Aug. 4th. As You like it, a book. Henry the Fift, a book *. Comedy of Much Ado about Nis thing. 'The dates ſcattered over theſe pages are from t596 to 1615. to be ſtaied. Dec. 1, 1595. Cuthbert Burby. ] A booke entituled Edward the Third and the Black Prince, their warres with King John of Frances. 6 Aug. 5, 1596. Edw. White. 7 A new ballad of Romeo and Ju- - * - Nett®, 12 b. Aug. 15, 1597. Rich. Jones.] Two ballads, being the firſt and ſecond parts of the Widowe of Watling- Keen | 22 b. 2 Probably the play before that of Shakſpeare. STEEveNs. Surely this muſt have been Shakſpeare's Henry V. which, as well 26 Much ado about nothing, was printed in 1600, when this entry appears to have been made. See the Eſſay on the chronological order of Shak. ſpeare's plays; Article, As you like it, MALONE, 3 This is aſcribed to Shakſpeare by the compilers of ancient cata- logues. STEEVENS. 4 Quere, if Shakſpeare's play, the firſt edition of which appeared in 1597. STEVENS, 5 Perhaps the ſongs on which the play with the ſame title was founded. It may, however, be the play itſelf, It was not uncom- mon to divide one dramatick piece, though defigned for a ſingle exhi- dition, into two ä See the K. Fobn before that of Shakſpeare. STEEVENS. Aug. 254 ENTRIES ON THE | Aug. 29, 1597. Andrew Wiſe.) The tragedye of Richard the Seconde. Oct. 20, 1597. Andrew Wiſe.] The tragedie of King Richard the Third, with the Deathe of the Duke of Clarence. 7 Feb. 251 1597. Andrew Wiſe. ] A booke entitled the Hiſtorie of Henry the Fourth, with his Battle at Shrewſbury againſt Henry Hottſpurre of the North, with the conceipted Mirth of Sir John Falſtoff. July 22, 1598. James Roberts. ] A booke of the Merchaunt of Ve- nyſe, otherwiſe called the Jewe of Ve- nyſe. Provided that it be not prynted by the ſaid James Roberts or any other wWuhatſoever, without leave firſt had from the ryght honourable the Lord Cham- berlen. Jan. 9, 1598. Mr. Woolf. ] A booke called the Firſte Parte of the Life and Reign of King Henry the Fourthe, extending to the End of the firſt Veare of his Reign“. Aug. 4, 1600. Tho. Pay er.] Firſt Part of the Hiſtory of the | | waa of Sir John Oldcaſtle Lord Cob. m Item, The Second Part of the Hiſtory of Sir John Oldcaftle Lord Cobham, with his Martyrdom. Aug. 14, 1600. Tho. Payer, 2 The Hiſtorye of Henry the Fifth, with the Battel of Agincourt, &c. 23 25 31 39 b. 45 b. 63 . d This was à narrative in proſe, written by I, Hayward. MAzoNnZ. 4 Aug. n B 2 * 2 — 3 e _— * N 3 , * - + — mee emen . . . TE” EEO : S PO e dhe . & "a SE FTA N 4 N r * * , . 3 * py * 7 5 5 ROY 4 7 2 8 25 5 2 * FI. 4 8 FE; N A IL ROK nan A Aer ade; an 7 N es + 2 © STATIONERS' REGISTERS. 233 Aug. 23, 1600. And. Wiſe, and Wm. Aſpley.] Much Ado about 6 Nothing. 63 b. Second Part of the Hiſtory of King Henry the Fourth, with the Humours of Sir John Falſtaff, written by Mr. | SHAKESPERE. _ ibid, OR. 8, 1600. Tho. F iſher. ] A booke called a Midſomer Nyghte Dreame. : 65 b. Oct. 28, 1600. Tho. Heyes.] A booke called the Book of the Merchaunt of Venyce. 66 Jan. 18, 1601. John Buſby. ] An excellent and pleaſaunt conceit- ed comedie of Sir John Faulfloff and | the Merry Wyves of Windlore. | 78 Arth. Johnſon.] The preceding entered as aſſign- ed to him from John Buſby. 85 ibid. April 19, 1602. » Tho. Pavyer.] A booke called Titus Andronicus, 80 1 5 July 26, 1602. James Roberts.] A booke called the Revenge of Hamlett Prince of Denmarke, as it was lately ated by the Lord Chamberlain his ſervants. 84 b. Aug. 11, 1602. Wm. Cotton. 1 A booke called the Lyfe and Death of the Lord Cromwell, as yt was lately acted by the Lord Chamberleyne his 12 rvantes. 85 b. Feb. 7, 1602. Mr. Roberts.] The booke of Troilus and Creſ- ſida, as it is acted by * Lo. Chamber- len's men. . June £ = \ N * 2 * 5 ” „* * R . — — — — — 5 - * 5 _ * Du ts * SS — a 1 y4 E . * — —— * n — 2 - OD EE FONT 250 ENTRIES ON THE June 25, 1603. Matt. Law.] Richard 3. Richard 2, : all kings. Henry 4. aft, Part. | Feb. 12, 1604. Nath. 3 That he get good allowance for the Enterlude of Henry 8, before he be- gin to print it; and then procure the warden's hand to at for the entrance of yt, he is to have the ſame for his copy. 120 May 8, 1605. Simon Stafford. ] A booke called the tragicall Hiſtorie of King Leir and his three Daughters, as it was lately ated. 123 John Wright.] By aſſignment from Simon Staf- ford and conſent of Mr. Leake, the tra- gical Hiſtory of King Lear, &c. pro- vided that Simon Stafford ſhall have the | printing of this book /. ibid. July 3, 1605. Tho. Pavyer.] A ballad of a lamentable Murder done in Yorkſhire, by a Gent. upon two of his owne Children, ſore wounding his 98 Wife and Nurſe®, &c. 126 | . Jan. 22, 1606. Nich. Ling. ] Romeo and juliett. Love“ s Labour Loſt. Taming of a Shrewe. 147 Aug. 6, 1607. 2 Geo. Ede. A booke called the Comedie of the Puritan Wydowe, 157 b. 6 This was a play entitled, When you ſee me you Know me, or the famous chronicle biftorie of King Henrie the Right, &c, by Samuel Rowley. Printed for N. Butter, 1605, MALoNE. 7 This is the King Lear before that 2 Shakſpeare, meas Ss © Query, if the play. STEEVENS. | Aug. 8 92 ** * ä n * * 2 Kh 5 e $4 DIES 88 8 „ ET T Joſeph Hunt and Tho. Archer. ] A book called the STATIONERS' REGISTERS. 257 Aug. 6, 1607. Tho. Thorpe. ] A comedy called What you Will ?. ibid. OR. 22, 1607. Arth. Johnſon. ] The Merry Devil of Edmonton“. 159 b. | Nov. 19, 1607» John Smythwick.] A booke called Hamlett. The Taminge of a Shrewe. | Romeo and Julett, Love's Labour Loft. 161 Nov. 26, 1607. f Nath. Butter and John Buſby.] Mr. William Shakeſpeare, his Hyſtorie of King Lear, as it was played before the King's Ma- jeſtie at Whitehall, upon St. Stephen's night at Chriſtmas laſt, by his Majeſties ſervants playing uſually at the Globe on the Bank- ſide. : April 5, 1608. 161 b. Life, and Death of the Merry Devil of Edmonton, with the pleaſant Pranks of Smugg the Smith, Sir John, and mine Hoſte of the George, about their ſteal- ing of Veniſon. By T. B=. 165 b. 9 Perhaps this is Marſton's comedy of Mbat you Vill. I have a copy of it dated 1607. What you Will, however, is the ſecond title to Shakſpeare's Twelfth Nights STEEVENS. This was certainly Mariton's play, for it was printed in 1607, by G. Eld, for T. Thorpe. MALoNE. 1 The Merry Devil of Edmonton 1s mentioned in the Blacke Booke byT. M. 1604. *« Give him leave to ſee the Merry Divel of Edmunton, or A Woman kill'd with Kindneſſe.” STEEVENS. „ 2 Bound up in a volume of plays attributed to Shakſpeare, and once belonging to King Charles I. but now in Mr. Garrick's collection. The initial letters at the end of this entry, ſufficiently free Shakſpearg from the charge of having been its author. STEEVENS, Vou, 1; 1 May | bh - — 8 «a _ - —— — — — - 5 . 1 — — — b = . — 4a F*- *. = ba: I O22 - — * E . ; - : q 44. L . N — » _ =_ = L * F — 3 — aq — — — — 5 — 2 — r PR ** * 3 . 2 * 92 * 4 <0 N —— LY 0 4 — - * * . ew ns I. B. dated 1616. MALONE. 258 ENTRIES ON THE x May 2, 1608, . Mr. Pavyer. ] A booke called a Yorkſhire Tra- gedy, written by Wylliam Shakeſpeare. 157 May 2, 1608. | Edw. Blount.] The book of Pericles Prince of Tyre. 167 b. A bock called Anthony and Cleopatra. ibid. | Jan. 28, 1608. Rich. Bonian and Hen. Whalley.] A booke called the Hiſtory of Troylus and Creſſida. 178 b. | May 20, 160g. Tho. Thorpe.] A booke called 8 Sonnets. | 183 b, Oct 16, 1609. | Mr. Welby.] Edward the Third. 189 Dec. 16, 1611. John Browne. ] A booke called the Lyfe and Death of the Lo. Cromwell, by W. S. 214 b. Nov. 29, 1614. | 721 Beale.] A booke called the Hyſtorie of Lord Faulconbridge, baſtard Son to Richard Cordelion ?, _ 256 b, | Feb. 16, as. Mr. Barrett.] Life and Death of Lord Cromwell. 279 March 20, 1617. Mr. Snodham.! Edward the Third, the play. 288 uery, if this was Shakſpeare's K. Jabn, or ſome old romance like that of Richard Coeur de Lion. STEEVENS. It was undoubtedly The famous Hiftorie of George Lord F auconbridge, a proſe romance. I have an edition of it now before me printed for Sept. STATIONERS' REGISTERS. 29% , Sept. 17, 1618. | John Wright ] The comedy called Mucedorus “. 293 b. July 8, 1619. Nich. Okes.] A play called the . of Venice. 303 | Vol. D, | OR. 6, 1621. Tho. Walkely.] The tragedie of Othello the Moore of Venice, 21 Nov. 8, 1623. Mr. Blount and Iſaak Jaggard.] Mr. William Shakeſpeare's Comedyes and Trage- dyes, ſoe many of the ſaid Copies as are not formerly entered to other men. Viz. a The Tempeſt. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Meaſure 8 7 | The Comedy of Errors. Comedyes. J A, you Like it. Alls Well that Ends Well, Twelfe Night. LThe Winter's Tale. The Third Part of Henry the Lixt. Uiſtories, Henry the Eight, Julius Cæſar. Macbeth. Anthonie and Cleopatra, Cymbeline, 69 Dec. 14, 1624. Mr. Pavyer.] Titus Andronicus. Widow of Watling Street. 93 | Coriolanus. | Timon of Athens, Tragedies, 4 Bound up in a volume of plays attributed to Shakſpeare, and once belonging to King Charles the Firſt, See Mr. Garrick's Collection. STEEVENS»s [R 2 | | Feb. 5 | | : ' | : iin DRIEE © Feb. 23, 1625. Mr. Stanſby.] Edward the Third, the play. April 3, 1626. Mr. Parker.] Life and Death of Lord Cromwell. 8 Aug. 4, 1626. Edw. Brewſter.) Mr. Pavyer's right in Shake- Rob. Birde. ſpeare's plays, or any of them. = Sir John Oldcaſtle, a play. Titus Andtonicus. Hyſtorie of Hamblett. Jan. 29, 1629. Mr. Meighen. Merry Wives of Windſor. x Nov. 8, 1630. Ric, Cotes, Henrye the Fift. Sir John Oldcaſtle. Tytus Andronicus. Vorke and Lancaſter. Agincourt. Pericles. Hamblett. Yorkſhire Tragedy. The ſixteen plays in p. 69, were aſſigned by Tho. Blount to Edward Allot, June 26, 1632. Edward Allott was one of the publiſhers of the | ſecond Folio, 1632 STEEVENs. 115 120 127 nemme | 122 aA 1 r E WM | TO ASCERTAIN THE S r 6 Eo 1 N unten THE PLAYS OF SHAKSPEARE WERE WRITTEN", Primuſque per avia campi Uſque procul, ( necdum totas lux moverat umbras, ) Neſcio quid viſu dubium, incertumgue moveri, Cor poraque ire videt. 7 STATIUS« ; T rattando Feambre come coſa ſalda. | DAN TE. VERY circumſtance that relates to thoſe perſons whoſe writings we admire, awakens and intereſts our curioſity. ' The time and place of their birth, their education and gradual attainments, the dares of their productions and the reception they ſeverally met with, their habits of life, their private friendſhips, and even their external form, are all points, which, how little ſoever they may have been adverted to by their con- temporaries, ſtrongly engage the attention of poſterity. Not ſatisfied with receiving the aggregated wiſdom of ages as a free gift, we viſit the manſions where our in- ſtructors are ſaid to have reſided, we contemplate with pleaſure the trees under whoſe ſhade they once repoſed, and wiſh to ſee and to converſe with thoſe ſages, whoſe labours have added ſtrength to virtue, and efficacy to truth. 2 1 The firſt edition of this Eſſay was publiſhed in January 1778. r — boy _ = _y _ 7 *, ” 1 »* gt — — a... 2 EIN P „ — * — 2 — 1 min. 2 — — — DF =" 8 —_— . 1 — dc. l — 23 — 25 % . * = ©: —<—_ a = ic * s = 2 — — —ͤͤ„ od 2 7 — A; g — — — - | \#.4 = 4 | _—— "2 , "4 * 5 2 - "= > n *r — = * - > FT Bn om i [ + | 4 „ 1 _ 1 4 4 3 = 4. xp ”7 iz | FN 4 | + _— 7 _ _ - — — — x 262 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Shakſpeare above all writers, fince the days of Homer, has excited this curioſity in the higheſt degree; as per- haps no poet of any nation was ever more idolized by his countrymen. An ardent deſire to underſtand and explain his works, is, to the honour of the preſent age, ſo much increaſed within the laſt forty years, that more has been. done towards their elucidation, during that period“, than in a century before. All the ancient co- Pies of his plays, hitherto diſcovered, have been collated with the moſt ſcrupulous accuracy. The meaneſt books have been carefully examined, only becauſe, they were of the age in which he lived, and might happily throw a light on ſome forgotten cuftom, or obſolete phraſeology: and, this object being ſtill kept in view, the toil of wading through all ſuch reading as was never read has been cheerfully endured, becauſe no labour was thought too great, that might enable us to add one new laurel to the father of our drama. Almoſt every circumſtance that tradition or hiſtory has preſerved relative to him or his works, has been inveſtigated, and laid before the publick ; and the avidity with which all communications of this kind have been received, ſufficiently proves that the time expended in the purſuit has not been wholly miſemployed. | | However, after the moſt diligent 5 very few particulars have been recovered, reſpecting his private life or literary hiſtory: and while it has been the en- deavour of all his editors and commentators to illuſtrate his obſcurities, and to regulate and correct his text, no attempt has been made to trace the progreſs and order of his plays. Yet ſurely it is no incurious ſpeculation, to mark the gradations 3 by which he roſe from medioc- ; 1 | rity 2 Within the period here mentioned, the commentaries of War. burton, Edwards, Heath, Johnſon, Tyrwhitt, Farmer, and Steevens, have been publiſhed. | 85 3 It is not pretended that a regular ſcale of gradual improvement is here preſented to the publick ; or that, if even Shakſpeare himſelf had left us a chronological liſt of his.dramas, it would exhibit fuch a ſcale. All that is meant, is, that, as his knowledge increaſed, and as he became OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 263 rity to the ſummit of excellence; from artleſs and ſome- times. unintereſting dialogues, to thoſe unparalleled : compoſitions, became more converſant with the ſtage and with life, his performances in general were written more happily and with greater art; or (to uſe the words of Dr. Johnſon) «© that however favoured by nature, he could only impart what he had learned, and as he muſt increaſe his ideas, like other mortals, by gradual acquiſition, he, like them, grew wiſer as he grew older, could diſplay life better as he knew it more, and inſtru with more efficacy, as he was himſelf more amply in- ſtructed.“ Of this opinion alſo was Mr. Pope. It muſt be obſerved, (ſays he) that when his performances had merited the protection of his prince, and when the encouragement of the court had ſucceeded to that of the town, the works of his riper years are manifeſtly raiſed above thoſe of his former.- And I make no doubt that this obſerva- tion would be found true in every inflance, were but editions extant from which we might learn the exact time when every piece was com- poſed, and whether writ for the town or the court.” From the fol- lowing lines it appears, that Dryden alſo thought that our authour's - moſt imperfe& plays were his earlieſt dramatick compoſitions ; &« Your Ben and Fletcher in their firſt young flight, « Did no Volpone, no Arbaces write; c But hopp'd about, and ſhort excurſions made « From bough to bough, as if they were afraid ; cc And each were guilty of ſome Sl/ighted Maid. « Shakſpeare's own muſe his Pericles firſt bore ; ce The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moor: « *Tis miracle to ſee a firſt good play; | « All hawthorns do not bloom on Chriſtmas- day. « A ſlender poet muſt have time to grow, & And ſpread and burniſh, as his brothers do: c Who ſtill looks lean, ſure with ſome p is curſt, © But no man can be Falftaff fat at firſt.” Prologue to the tragedy of Circe. The plays which Shakſpeare produced before the year 1600, are known, and are ſeventeen or eighteen in number. The reſt of his dramas, we may conclude, were compoſed between that year and the time of his retiring to the country. It is incumbent on thoſe, who differ in opinion from the great authorities abovementioned, - who think with Rowe, that © eve are not to look for. his beginnings in bis leaſt perfect works,” it is incumbent, I ſay, on thoſe perſons, to enumerate in the former claſs, that is, among the plays produced be- fore 1600, compoſitions of equal merit with Orbello, King Lear, Mac- beth, the Tempeſt, and Twelfth Night, which we have reaſon to believe were all written in the latter period ; and among his late performances, IR 4] | that 4 - "= — 7 0 3 hay - . Act e r 3 oY — Ker 1 3 = =y = * — * dias * .» "IF , 4 # I * — — þ n ” — —- — 7 — 3 * * wy "x * y 4 _— —— — _ 5 8 jou! — « " 23 2 * 28 — — nm Ao — — — — = WM RR; nr Ir" A; our authour's life-time “, the majority were, I believe, 264 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER compoſitions, which have rendered him the delight and wonder of ſucceſſive ages. | The materials for aſcertaining the order in which his lays were written, are indeed ſo few, that, it is to be eared, nothing very decifive can be produced on this ſubject. In the following attempt to trace the progreſs of his dramatick art, probability alone is pretended to, The filence and inaccuracy of thoſe perſons, who, after his death, had the reviſal of his papers, will perhaps for ever prevent our attaining to any thing like proof on this head. Little then remains, but to colle into one view, from his ſeveral dramas, and from the ancient tracts in which they are mentioned, or alluded to, all the circumſtances that can throw any light on this new and curious inquiry. Fro thoſe circumſtances, and from the entries in the books of the Stationers' company, extracted and publiſhed by Mr. Steevens, (to whom every _ admirer of Shakſpeare has the higheſt obligations,) it is probable that our authour's plays were written nearly in the following ſucceſſion; which, though it cannot at this day be aſcertained to be their true order, may yet be conſidered as approaching nearer to it, than any which has been obſerved in the various editions of his works. Of the twenty-one plays which were not printed in late that is, among the plays which are ſuppoſed to have appeared after the year Tboo, to point out pieces, as haſty and indigeſted, as Lewe's Labour's Loft, the Comedy of Errors, and the Two Gentlemen of Verona, which, we know, were among his earlier works, | Pn, 4 They are, King Henry VI. P. I. The Second and Third Parts of X. Henry VI. (as he wrote them) The Comedy of Errors, The Taming of the Shrew, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, King Fohn, Ails Well that Ends Well, As you like it, King Henry VIII. Meaſure for Mea- ſure, The Winter's Tale, Cymbeline, Macbeth, Fulius Ceſar, Antony and Cleopatra, Timon of Athens, Coriolanus, Othello, The Tempeſt, and Twelfth Night. Theſe were not printed in quarto, but appeared firſt in the folio edition publiſhed by Heminge and Condell, in 1623. Of theſe plays, ſeven, viz. The firſt part of K. Henry VT. (allowing that play to be Shakſpeare's,) The Second and Third Parts of X. oy VI, 22 | King OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 265 late compoſitionss. The following arrangement is in ſome meaſure formed on this notion. Two reaſons may be aſſigned, why Shakſpeare's late performances were not publiſhed till after his death. 1. If we ſuppoſe him to have written for the ſtage during a period of twenty years, thoſe pieces which were produced in the latter part of that period, were leſs likely to paſs through the preſs in his life-time, as the curioſity of the publick had not been ſo long engaged by them, as by his early com- poſitions. 2. From the time that Shakſpeare had the ſuperintendance of a playhouſe, that is, from the year 106035, when he and ſeveral others obtained a licence from King James to exhibit comedies, tragedies, hiſto- King Johr, The Comedy of Errors, The Taming of the Shrew, and The ſaws Gentlemen of Verona, were certainly early compoſitions, and are an exception to the general truth of this obſervation. One other, viz. Alls well that ends well, though ſuppoſed to have been an early production, was, it muſt be acknowledged, not publiſhed in Shakſpeare's life-time; but for the date of this play we rely only on conjecture. | | 5 This ſuppoſition is ſtrongly confirmed by Meres's liſt of our authour's plays, in 1598. From that liſt, and from other circum- ſtances, we learn, that of the fourteen plays which were printed in Shakſpeare's life-time, thirteen were written before the end of the year 1600. — The fourteen plays publiſhed in our authout's life-time, are Midſummer Night's Dream, Love's Lobour's Li, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, X. Richard II. X. Richard III. The Firſt Part of K. Henry IV. The Second Part of X. Henry I”, The Merchant of Ve- nice, X. Henry V. Mich Ado about Nothing, The Merry Wives of Windſor, Troilus and Creſſida, and K. Lear. | o None of the plays which in the enſuing liſt are ſuppoſed to have been written ſubiequently to this year, were printed till after the au- thour's death, except K. Lear, the publication of which was probably haſtered by that of the old play with the ſame title, in 1605. — The copy of Troilus and Cr:ſji/a, which ſeems to have been compoſed the year before K. James granted a licence to the company at the Globe | Theatre, appears to have been obtained by ſome uncommon artifice. « Thank fortune (ſays the editor) for the ſcape it hath made amongſt you; ſince, by the grand pofleſtors' wills, I believe, you ſhould have pray'd for them [r. it] rather than been pray'd.”—By the grand poſe ſellors, Shakſpeare and the other managers of the Globe Theatre, were certainly intended, WE 3 Ha ries, _ — * = TK — — 3 "4 * # „ 0 E %. * A — WS — OI OR I 268 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER - was his townſman, perhaps his relation, and Michael Drayton was likewiſe born in Warwickſhire ; the latter was nearly of his own age, and both were in ſome de- gree of reputation ſoon after the year 1590. If I were to indulge a conjecture, I ſhould name the year 1591, as the era when our authour commenced a writer for the ſtage ; at which time he was ſomewhat more than twen- ty-ſeven years old. The reaſons that induce me to fix on that period are theſe, In Webbe's Di/cour/e of Eng- lihh Poetry, publiſhed in 1586, we meet with the names of moſt of the celebrated poets of that time ; particularly thoſe of George Whetſtoneꝰ and Anthony Munday 9, who | — were in the performance of what he undertook, more applauded by the au- dience, of greater grace at the court, or of more general love in the city.” The birth- place of Thomas Greene is aſcertained by the fol- lowing lines, which he ſpeaks in one of the old comedies, ia the character of a clown : cc I pratled poeſie in my nurſe's arms, «© And, born where late our ſwan of Avon ſung, & In Avon's ſtreams we both of us have lav'd, & And both came out together.“ | Chetwaod, in his Britiſh Theatre, quotes this paſſage from the comedy of the Two Maids of Moreclack; but no ſuch paſſage is there to be found. He deſerves but little credit; having certainly forged many of his dates; however, he probably met with theſe lines in ſome ancient play, though he forgot the name of the piece from which he tranſcribed them. Greene was a writer as well as an actor. There are ſome verſes of his prefixed to a collection of Drayton's poems, pub- liched in the year 1613. He was perhaps a kinſman of Shakſpeare's. In the regiſter of the pariſh of Stratford, Thomas Greene, alias Shak- ſpere, is ſaid to have been buried there, March 6, 1589. He might have been the actor's father. | s The authour of Promos and Caſſandra, a play which furniſhed Shakſpeare with the fable of Meaſure for Meaſure. | | 2 This poet is mentioned by Meres, in his Wit's Treaſury, 1593, as an eminent comick writer, and the 5% plotter of his time. He ſeems to have been introduced under the name of Don Antonio Bal- Jadino, in a comedy that has been attributed. to Ben Jonſon, called The Caſe is Altered, and from the following paſſages in that piece ap- pears to have been city-poet; whoſe buſineſs it was to compoſe an annual panegyrick on the Lord Mayor, and to write verſes for the pageants: an office which has been diſcontinued ſince the death of Elkanah Settle in 1722: | | 8 | Onion. OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 269 were dramatick writers; but we ſind no trace of our au- thour, or of any of his works. Three years afterwards, Puttenham printed his Art of Engliſh Poeſy ; and in that work alſo we look in vain for the name of Shakſpeare *. Sir John Harrington in his Apologie for Poetry, prefixed to the Tranſlation of Arioſto, (which was entered in the Stationers' books Feb. 26, 1590-1, in which year, it was publiſhed,) takes occaſion to ſpeak of thetheatre, and mentions ſome of the celebrated dramas of that time; but ſays not a word of Shakſpeare, or of his plays. If any of his dramatick compoſitions had then appeared, is it imaginable, that Harrington ſhould have mentioned the Cambridge Pedaniius, and The Play of the Cards, which laſt, he tells us was a London [i. e. an Engliſh] comedy, and have paſſed by, unnoticed, the new prodigy of the dramatick world ? ( Onion. Shall I requeſt your name? «& Ant. My name is Antonio Balladino. 46 Oni. Balladino! You are not pageant- poet to the city of Milan, &« fir, are you? | | «& Ant. J ſupply the place, fir, when a worſe cannot be had, fir. Did you ſee the laſt pageant I ſet forth?“ Afterwards Antonio, ſpeaking of the plays he had written, ſays, Let me have good ground, — no matter for the pen; the plot ſhall c carry its & Oni. Indeed that's right; you are in print, already, for THE BEST 60. PLOFTTER. &« Ant. Ay; I might as well have been put in for a dumb-ſhew too. It is evident, that this poet is here intended to be ridiculed by Ben Jonſon: but he might, notwithſtanding, have been deſervedly emi- nent. That malignity which endeavoured to tear a wreath from the brow of Shakſpeare, would certainly not ſpare inferior writers, 1 The thirty-firſt chapter of the firſt book of Puttenham's Art of Engliſh Poeſy is thus entitled: “ Who in any age have bene the moſt commended writers in our Engliſh Poeſie, and the author's cenſure given upon them.” After having enumerated ſeveral authours who were then celebrated for various kinds of compoſition, he gives this ſuccin& account of thoſe who had written for the ſtage: © Of tbe latter ſort I thinke thus 5— that for tragedie, the Lord Buckhburſt and Maifter Edward Ferrys, for ſuch doings as I bave ſene of theirs, do deſerve the byeſt price; the Earl of Oxford and Maifter Edwardes of ber Majeſtie s Chappell, for e:medie ard enterlude. h | In 6 i | 1 | * | | | ' | | | | | | | 1 | | i | 270 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER In Spenſer's Tears of the Muſes, firſt printed in 1591, the following lines are found in Thalia's complaint on account of the decay of dramatick poetry : | 4 And he the man, whom nature's ſelf had made £© To mock her ſelfe, and truth to imitate, - «© With kindly counter under mimick ſhade, „Our pleaſant Wilih, ah, is dead of late; «© With whom all joy and jolly merriment « Ts alſo deaded, and in dolour drent. —— ado ns — 5 i + =, 2 * — « . — - gp _ . - "a — - : ef 2 — o | _ 6 Le? — . c - 2 — S — — * — — 7 —_ — - — _ me 0 n | "Y Y by s * 0 300 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER tion was probably handed about in manuſcript among his theatrical acquaintances antecedent to its being iſſued from the preſs. In the following lines of this play, << Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' ſon,) «© Wilt thou aſpire to guide the heavenly car, «© And with thy daring folly burn the world?“ the poet, as Mr. Steevens has obſerved, might have been furniſhed with his mythology by the old play of King John, in two parts, 4to. 1591: ER as ſometimes Phaeton, « Miſtruſting filly Merops for his ſire.“ If I am right in ſuppoſing our authour's King John to have been written in 1596, it is not improbable that he read the old play with particular attention antecedently to his fitting down to compoſe a new drama on the ſame ſubject; perhaps in the preceding year: and this circum- ſtance may add ſome weight to the date now aſſigned to the play before us, | | 9. ROMEO AND JuriEr, 1595. It has been already obſerved, that our authour in his early plays appears to have been much addicted to rhym- ing; a practice from which he gradually departed, though he never wholly deſerted it. In this piece more rhymes, I believe, are found, than in any other of his plays, Lowe's Labour's Loft and A Mid/ummer-Night's Dream only excepted. This circumſtance, the ſtory on which it is founded, ſo likely to captivate a young poet, the imperfect form in which it originally appeared, and its very early publication“, all incline me to believe that this was Shakſpeare's firſt tragedy ; for the three parts of K. Henry VI. do not pretend to that title. There is no edition of any of our authour's genuine plays extant, prior to 1597, when Romeo and Fuliet was publiſhed, | Am OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 301 « A new ballad of Romeo and Fuliet, (perhaps our authour's play,) was entered on the Stationers* books, Auguſt 5, 1596 *, and the firſt ſketch of the play was printed in 1597; but it did not appear in its preſent form till two years afterwards. This tragedy was originally repreſented by the ſervants of Lord Hunidon, who was appointed Lord Chamber- lain to Queen Elizabeth in 1585, and died in July 1596. As it appears from the title-page of the original edition in 1597, that Romeo and Fuliet had been often ated by the ſervants of that nobleman, it probably had been re- preſented in the preceding year, In the third act /e fr/? and ſecond cauſe are mention- ed: that paſſage therefore was probably written after the publication of Saviolo's Book on Honour and honour- able quarrels; which appeared in 1595, | From ſeveral paſſages in the fifth act of this tragedy it is manifeſt, I think, that Shakſpeare had recently read, and remembered, ſome of the lines in Daniel's Complaint „ Roſamond, which, I believe, was printed in 15927: 7 the 2 There is no entry in the Stationers? books relative to the tragedy of Romeo and Fuljet, antecedent to its publication in 1597, if this does not relate to it. This entry was made by Edward Whyte, and therefore is not likely to have related to the poem called Romeo and Juletia, which was entered in 1582, by Richard Tottel. How vague the deſcription of plays was at this time, may appear from the follow- ing entry, Which is found in the Stationers* books, an. 1590, and ſeems to relate to Marlowe's tragedy of Tamburlaine, publiſhed in that year, by Richard Jones. „To Richard Jones | Twoe Commical Diſcourſes of Tamburlein, the Cythian Shepparde. | In Marlowe's Tamburlaine, as originally performed, ſeveral comick interludes were introduced; whence perhaps, the epithet comical was added to the title. As tragedies were ſometimes entitled diſcourſes, ſo a grave poem or ſad diſcourſe in- verſe, (to uſe the language of the time) was frequently denominated a tragedy, All the poems inſerted in the Mirrour for Magiſtrates, and ſome of Drayton's pieces, are called tragedies, by Meres and other ancient writers. Some of Sir David Lindſay's poems, though not in a dramatick form, are alſo by their authour entitled tragedies. | 3 © A booke called Delia, containynge diverſe ſonates, with e Complainte of Reſamerde, was entered at Stationers-hall by Simon En Watetſoa 302 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER the earlieſt edition, however, that I have ſeen of that Piece 1s dated in 1594 : And nought- reſpecting death, the laſt of paines, & Plac*d his pale colours, (the oy” In of his might, ) 05 e 825 his new- got ſpoil, &c. Complaint of Roſamond. beauty's enfign yet cc Ry crimſon in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, «© And death's pale flag, &c. Romeo and Fuliet. c Decayed roſes of diſcolour'd cheeks | Po yet retain ſome notes of former grace, And ugly death fits faire within her face. Cemplaint of Roſamond, Death that hath ſuck'd the was. of thy breath, % Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.“ f | Romeo and Fuliet. e Ah now methinks I ſee death dallying /eets «« To entertain itſelfe in love's faveet place. Complaint of Roſamond. ce Shall I believe 5 'That unſubſtantial death 15 1 Romeo and Juliet. If the following ſs in an old comedy already mentioned, entitled Dr. Dodipoll, which had appeared before 1 596, be conſidered as an imitation, it may add ſome weight to the ſuppoſition that Romeo and pag had been exhibited before that year : | The glorious parts of fair Lucilia, Take them and join them in the heavenly ſpheres, « And fix them there as an eternal light, For lovers to adore and wonder at.” Dr. Dodi poll. c Take him and cut him out in little ſtars, „And he will make the face of heaven ſo fine, «« That all the world ſhall be in love with night, And pay no worſhip to the gariſh ſun.” Romeo and Fuliet. Wateiſon in Feb. 1591-2, and the latter piece is commended by Naſhe in a tract entitled Pierſe Penniliſſe tis Supplication t9 the Divell, publiſhed in 1592. In OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 303 In the fifth a& of this tragedy mention is made of the practice of ſealing up the doors of thoſe houſes in which « the infectious peſtilence did reign.”* Shakſpeare pro- bably had himſelf ſeen this practiſed in the plague which raged in London in 1593. | From a ſpeech of the Nurſe in this play, which con- tains theſe words“ 1? is now fince the earthquake eleven. years, &c. Mr. Tyrwhitt conjectured, that Romeo and Juliet, or at leaſt part of it, was written in 1591 3 the novels from which Shakſpeare may be ſuppoſed to have drawn his ſtory, not mentioning any ſuch circumſtance ; while, on the other hand, there adually was an earth- quake in England on the 6th of April, 1580, which he might here have had in view *.—lt formerly ſeemed im- probable to me that Shakſpeare, when he was writing this tragedy, ſhould have adverted, with ſuch preciſion, to the date of an earthquake which had been felt in his youth. The paſſage quoted ſtruck me, as only diſplay- ing one of thoſe characteriſtical traits, which diſtinguiſh old people of the lower claſs ; who delight in enumerat . ing a multitude of minute circumſtances that have no relation to the buſineſs immediately under their con- fideration 5, and are particularly fond of computing time from extraordinary events, ſuch as battles, comets, plagues, and earthquakes. This feature of their cha- racter our authour has in various places ſtrongly mark- ed, Thus (to mention one of many inſtances,) the Grave-digger in Hamlet ſays, that he came to his em- ployment, of all the days i'the year, that day that the laſt king o'ercame Fortinbras,—that very day that young Hamlet was born.“ -A more attentive peruſal, however, of our poet's works, and his frequent alluſions to the manners and uſages of England, and to the events of 4 See Romeo and Juliet, Act I. fc, iii. > 5 Thus Mrs. Quickly in K. Henry V. reminds Falſtaff, that he <«« {wore on a parcel-gilt goblet, to marry her, ſitting in her dolphin chamber, at a round table, by a ſea-coal fire, on Wedneſday in Whit- ſun-week, when the prince broke his head for likening his father to a ſinging man of Windſor,” — | his G * g *® 1 3 9 WE 1 * ; ] 304 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER his own time, which he has deſcribed as taking place wherever his ſcene happens to lie, have ſhewn me that Mr. Tyrwhitt's conjecture is not ſo improbable as I once ſuppoſed it. Shakſpeare might have laid the foundation of this play in 1591, and finiſhed it at a ſubſequent period. The paſſage alluded to is in the firſt act. | | If the earthquake which happened in England in 1580, was in his thoughts, when he compoſed the firſt part of this play, and induced him to ſtate the earthquake at Verona as happening on the day on which Juliet was eveaned, and eleven years before the commencement of the piece, it has led him into a contradiftion ; for ac- cording to the Nurſe's account Juliet was within a fort- night and odd days of completing her fourteenth year ; and yet according to the computation made ſhe could not well be much more than #welve years old. Whether indeed the Engliſh earthquake was, or was not, in his thoughts, the nurſe's account 1s inconſiſtent, and con- tradictory. | | | ul Perhaps Shakſpeare was more careful to mark the gar- Tulity, than the preciſion, of the old woman ;—or per- haps, he meant this very incorrectneſs as a trait of her character: —or, without having recourſe to either of theſe ſuppoſitions, ſhall we ſay, that our authour was here, as in ſome other places, haſty and inattentive ? It is eertain that there is nothing in which he is leſs accurate, than the computation of time. Of his negli- gence in this reſpect, As you Like it, Meaſure for Mea- jure, and Othello, furniſh remarkable inſtances ®. 10. HAMLET, 1596. The following paſſage is found in 4» Epi/#le to the Gentlemen Students of the Two Univerſities by Thomas 6 See Meaſure for Meaſure, Act I. ſc. iii. and iv. — As you like it, Act IV. ſc. i. and iii,—Orbelle, AQ III. fc. iii. I ſlept the next night well,” &c, | | _ . Naſhe, OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. gog Naſhe, prefixed to Greene's Arcadia, which was pub- liſhed in 1589 :—*< I will turn back to my firſt text of ſtudies of delight, and talk a little in friendſhip with a few of our trivial tranſlators. It is a common practice now a-days, among a fort of ſhifting companions, that runne through every art, and thrive by none, to leave the trade of Noverint, whereto they were born, and buſie themſelves with the endevors of art, that could ſcarcely latinize their neck-verſe if they ſhould have neede; yet Engliſh Seneca, read by candle-light, yeelds many good ſentences, as Bloud is a beggar, and ſo forth: and, if you intreat him faire in a froſty morning, he will affoord you whole Hamlets, I ſhould ſay, Handfuls, of tragical ſpeeches. But O grief! Tempus edax rerum ;—what 18 that will laſt always? The ſea exhaled by drops will in continuance be drie ; and Seneca, let bloud line by line, and page by page, at length muſt needes die to our ſtage. | io Not having ſeen the firſt edition of this tract till a few years ago, I formerly doubted whether the foregoing _ paſſage referred to the tragedy of Hamlet; but the word Hamlets being printed in the original copy in a different character from the reſt, I have no longer any doubt upon the ſubject. = It is manifeſt from this paſſage that ſome play on the ſtory of Hamlet had been exhibited before the year 15893 but I am inclined to think that it was not Shakſpeare's drama, but an elder performance, on which, with the aid of the old proſe Hiſtory of Hamlet, his tragedy was formed. The great number of pieces which we &4now he formed on the performances of preceding writers 5, renders it highly probable that ſome others alſo of his dramas were conſtructed on plays that are now loſt, Per- haps the original Hamlet was written by Thomas Kyd ; who was the authour of one play (and probably of more) 7 See the Diſſertation on the Three Parts of X. Henry V. Vol. VI. p. 429. EE Vor. I. (U] WG ä ů ——— ——„-—-„— X , 2 LP CE, 2 —— —z "= 1 * 1 -* = IN, 2 III, A 5 - r 2 ——— WW ũ ’ . * 5 ꝶꝶ6ꝛ .ĩ5i ——- — 22? ———̃— 2E * 2 60 J * 4 an * * N * ol " a \ = —_ bl. = 306 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER to which no name is affxedꝰ. The only tragedy to which Kyd's name is affixed, (Cornelia,) is a profeſſed tranſlation from the French of Garnier, who, as well as his tranſlator, imitated Seneca. In Kyd's Spanih Tragedy, as in Shakſpeare's Hamlet, there is, if I may ſay ſo, a play repreſented w:rhin a play: if the old play of Hamlet ſhould ever be recovered, a ſimilar interlude, I make no doubt, would be found there ; and ſomewhat of the ſame contrivance may be traced in The old Taming of a Shrew, a comedy which perhaps had the ſame authour as the other ancient pieces now enumerated. Naſhe ſeems to point at ſome dramatick writer of that time, who had originally been a ſcrivener or at- torney : « A clerk foredoom'd his father's ſoul to croſs, «© Who penn d a ſtanza when he ſhould engroſs; who, inſtead of tranſcribing deeds and pleadings, choſe to imitate Seneca's plays, of which a tranſlation had been publiſhed many years before. Our authour, how- ever freely he may have borrowed from Plutarch and Holinſhed, does not appear to be at all indebted to Seneca; and therefore { do not believe that he was the perſon in Naſhe's contemplation. The perſon alluded to being deſcribed as originally bred to the law, (for the trade of ao rint is the trade of an attorney or con- veyancer ,) I formerly conceived that this eircumſtance alſo was deciſive to ſhew that Shakſpeare could not have been aimed at. I do not heſitate to acknowledge, that fince the firſt edition of this eſſay I have found reaſon to believe that I was miſtaken. The comprehenſive mind of our poet embraced almoſt every object of nature, 9 The Spaniſh Tragedy. | z 4 The country lawyers too jog down apace, « Each with his noverint univerſfs face.” | | Ravenſcroft's Prologue prefixed to Titus Andronicus. Our ancient deeds were written in Latin, and frequently began with the words, Neverint Uziverfi, The form is ſtill retained. Know all men, &C, ä every OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 307 every trade, every art; the manners of every deſcrip- tion of men, and the general language of almoſt every profèſſion: but his knowledge of legal terms is not merely ſuch as might be acquired by the caſual obſerva- tion of even his all-comprehending mind; it has the appearance of technical ſkill; and he is ſo fond of diſ- playing it on all occaſions, that I ſuſpe& he was early initiated in at leaſt the forms of law ; and was employed, while he yet remained at Stratford, in the office of ſome country attorney, who was at the ſame time a petty conveyancer, and perhaps alſo the Seneſchal of ſome manor- court. I ſhall ſubjoin the proofs below *. The 2 — for what in me was purchas'd, Falls upon thee in a much fairer ſort. Xing Henry IP. P. II. Purchaſe is here uſed in its ſtrict legal ſenſe, in contradiſtinction to an acquiſition by deſcent. Unleſs the devil have him in fee-fimple, with fine and recovery. | Merry Wives of Windſor. He is 'reſted on the caſe. Comedy of Errors. — with ills on their necks, Be it knozon unto all men by theſe pre- Jents, &c. As you like it. | s — who writes himſelf armigero, in any bill, warrant, quittance or chligation. Merry Wives of Windſor. Go with me to a notary, ſeal me there Your jingle bond. Merchant of Venice. Say, for non-payment that the debt ſhould double. | Venus and Adonis. On a conditional bond's becoming forfeited for non-payment of money borrowed, the whole penalty, which is uſually the double of the principal ſum lent by the obligee, was formerly recoverable at law, + To this our poet here alludes. | | But the defendant doth that plea deny To 'cide his.title, is impanelled A queſt of thoughts. Sonnet 46. In Much ado about Nothing Dogberry charges the watch to keep their fellows counſel and their own, This Shakſpeare transferred from the oath of a grand jury-man. | 7 And let my officers of ſuch a nature | | Make an extent upon his houſe and lands. A you like it. He was taken with the manner, Love's Labour's Lofts Enfeof d himſelf to popularity. X. Henry IV, P. I. [V2] Oo __— 0 —— > 8. ©. 2 * = . 8 32, —_ *. - aw — «+ 2 —— o I dy — — 2 — - a +> » 2 : * — 42 n 24 a he 0 S, _ 308 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER The tragedy of Hamlet was not regiſtered in the books of the Stationers' Company till the 26th of July, 1602. I believe it was then publiſhed, though the earlieſt copy now extant 1s dated in 1604. In the title-page of that copy, the play is ſaid to be nexwwly imprinted, and enlarged to almoſt as much again as it was, according 10 the true and perfect copy; from which words it is mani- feſt that a former /e/s perfect copy had been iſſued from the preſs. | He will ſeal the fee-fimple of his ſalvation, and cut the entail from all remainders, and a perpetual ſucceſſion for it perpetually. All's well that ends ell, Why, let her except before excepted. Twelfth Night. — Which is four terms, or two actions z—and he ſhall laugh with- out intervallums, King Henry IV. P. II. — keeps leets and /aw-days» King Richard II. Pray in aid for kindneſs, Antony and Cleopatra, No writer but one who had been converſant with the technical lan- guage of leaſes and other conveyances, would have uſed determination as ſynonymous to end. Shakſpeare frequently uſes the word in that ſenſe. See Vol. V. p. 403, n. 4.; Vol. VI. p. 84, n. *; Vol. X. p- 202, n. 8. From and after the determination of ſuch term, is the regular language of conveyancers. 1 Humbly complaining to your highneſs. X. Richard III. « Humbly complaining to your lordſhip, your orator, &c. are the firſt words of every bill in chancery. A kiſs in fee-farm ! In witneſs whereof theſe parties interchange- ably have ſet their hangs and ſeals. Troilus and Creſſida. Art thou a feodary for this act? Cymbeline, See the note on that paſſage, Vol. VIII. p. 380, n. 2, Are thoſe precepts ſerved? ſays Shallow to Davy in K. Henry IV. Precepts in this ſenſe is a word only known in the office of a Juſtice of peace. | ; Tell me, what ſtate, what dignity, what honour, Can'ft thou demiſe to any child of mine? K. Richard III. c — hath demiſed, granted, and to farm let, is the conſtant lan- guage of leaſes, What poet but Shakſpeare has uſed the word demiſed in this ſenſe ? ; bp | | Perhaps it may be ſaid, that our authour in the ſame manner may be proved to have been equally converſant with the terms of divinity, or phyſick. Whenever as large a number of inſtances of his eceleſiaſti- cal or medicinal knowledge ſhall be produced, what has now been ſtated will certainly not be entitled to any weight, : 1 | | 2 OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 309 In a tract entitled its mi/erie or the world*s madneſſe, diſcovering the incarnate devils of the age, by Thomas Lodge, which was publiſhed an quarto in 1596, one of the devils (as Dr. Farmer has obſerved) is ſaid to be cf a foule lubber, and looks as pale as the vizard of the ghoſt, who cried ſo miſerably at the theatre, Hamlet, revenge. If the alluſion was to our authour's tragedy, this paſſage will aſcertain its appearance in or before 1596; but Lodge may have had the elder play in his contemplation. We 4zow however from the teſtimony of Dr. Gabriel Harvey, that Shakſpeare's Hamlet had been exhibited before 1598 3. | The Caſe is altered, a comedy, attributed to Ben Jon- ſon, and written before the end of the year 15997, con- tains a paſſage, which ſeems to me to have a reference to this play: Angelo. But firſt I'll play the ghoſt; DI call him out 5,"* | | | | In the ſecond act of Hamlet, a conteſt between the children of the queen's chapel®, and the actors of the eſtabliſhed theatres, is alluded to. At what time that conteſt began, is uncertain. But, ſhould it appear not to have commenced till ſome years after the date here aſſigned, it would not, I apprehend, be a ſufficient rea- {on for aſcribing this play to a later period; for, as 3 See Vol. X. pe. 71. 4 This comedy was not printed till 1609, but it had appeared many years before. The time when it was written, is aſcertained with great precifion by the following circumſtances, It contains an alluſion to Meres's Wit's T; reaſury, firſt printed in the latter end of the year 1598, (See p. 295, n. 7,) and is itfelf mentioned by Naſhe in his Lenten Stuffs 4to. 1599.—“ It is right of the merry cobler's ſtuff, in that witty play of The Caſe is Altered.” | S Jonſon's works, Vol. VII. p. 362. Whalley's edit. 6 Between the years 1595 and 1600, ſome of Lily's comedies were performed by theſe children. Many of the plays of Jonſon were repre- ſented by them between 1600 and 1609.,.—From a paſſage in Fack Drum's Entertainment, or the Comedy of Paſquil and Catharine, which was printed in 1601, we learn that they were much followed at that time. a : U 3] additions 2 r 1 - 44 s = a 2 - * Mom s 4 = . _ 4 - N 3243 - - — h F Lac 5 * 4 3 -- — - - w— — — — uh uy - ww = F. 2 « 7 — E A * 3 = er. 310 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER additions appear to have been made to it after its firit production, and we have ſome authority for attributing the firſt ſketch of it to 1796 or to an earlier period, till that authority is ſhaken, we may preſume, that any paſſage which is inconſiſtent with that date, was not in the play originally, but a ſubſequent inſertion. With reſpect to the alluſion in queſtion, it probably was an addition; for it is not found in the quarto of 1604, (which has not the appearance of a mutilated or imperfect copy,) nor did it appear in print till the pub- lication of the folio in 1623. The ſame obſervation may be made on the paſſage produced by Mr. Holt, to prove that this play was not written till after 1597. Their inhibition comes by means of the late innovation This indeed, does appear in the quarto of 1604, but, we may preſume, was added in the interval between 1597, (when the ftatute alluded to, 39 Eliz. ch. 4. was enacted,) and that year. - Heywood in his Apology for Actors, 1612, complains of the /currility introduced lately among the children of Chapel, in their theatrical exhibitions. This may ſerve to aſcertain the time when the paſſage which relates ta them was inſerted in Hamlet. | 11. KING Jorn, 1596, This hiſtorical play was founded on a former drama, entitled The T rouble/ome Raigne 'of Fohn King of Eng- land, with the Diſcoverie of King Richard Cordelion's baſe Son, vulgarly named the Baſtard Fawconbridge : alſo the Death of King Fobn at Sæuinſtead Abbey. As it was (fundry times) publikely acted by the Queenes Majeſties Players in the honourable Citie of London, This piece, which 1s in two parts, and was printed at London for Sampſon Clarke, 1591, has no authour's name in the title-page. On its republication in 1611, the bookſeller for whom it was printed, inſerted the letters V. Sh. in the title-page ; and in order to conceal his fraud, omit- ted the words— publitely—in the honourable Citie of | | | London, OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 311 London, which he was aware would proclaim this play not to be Shakſpeare's King John; the company to which he belonged, having no pnblicꝶ theatre in London: that in Blackfriars being a private e and the Globe, which was a publick theatre, being ſituated in South- wark. He alſo, probably with the ſame view, omitted the following lines addreſſed to the Gentlemen Readers, which are prefixed to the firſt edition of the old play: «© You that with friendly grace of ſmoothed brow «© Have entertain'd the Scythian T amburlaine, 5 And given applauſe unto an infidel ; «© Vouchſafe to welcome, with like curteſie, «© A warlike Chriſtian and your countryman. 5 For Chriſt's true faith indur'd he many a ſtorme, « And ſet himſelfe againſt the man of Rome, «© Until baſe treaſon by a damned wight Did all his former triumphs put to flight. «© Accept of it, ſweete gentles, in good ſort, „And thinke it was prepar'd for your diſport.?? Shakſpeare's play being then probably often acted, and the other wholly laid aſide, the word /ately was ſub- ſtituted for the word publickly: ** as they were ſundry times lately acted, &c. = Thomas Dewe, for whom a third edition of this old play was printed in 1622, was more daring, The two parts were then publiſhed, “ as they were ſundry times lately acted; and the name of William Shakſpeare in- ſerted at length. By the Queen s Majeſties players was wiſely omitted, as not being very conſiſtent with the word lately, Elizabeth being then dead nineteen years. King John is the only one of our poet's unconteſted plays that is not entered in the books of the Stationers? company. It was not printed till 1623, but is men- tioned by Meres in 1598, unleſs he miſtook the old play in two parts, printed in 1591, for the compoſition of Shakſpeare. | It is obſervable that our authour's ſon, Hamnet, died in Auguſt, 1596. That I _ of ſuch ſenſibility, and 4 ] | of * 4 . 312 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER of ſo amiable a diſpoſition, ſhould have loſt his only ſon, who had attained the age of twelve years, without being greatly affected by it, will not be eaſily credited. The Pathetick lamentations which he has written for Lady Conſtance on the death of Arthur, may perhaps add ſome probability to the ſuppoſition that this tragedy was written at or ſoon after that period, In the firſt ſcene of the ſecond act the following lines are ſpoken by Chatillon, the French ambaſſador, on his return from England to King Philip: «« And all the unſettled humours of the land «© Raſh, inconſiderate, firy voluntaries, «© With ladies' faces and fierce dragons? ſpleens, - C Have ſold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birth-rights proudly on their backs, 4 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. | In brief, a braver choice of dauntleſs ſpirits 4 Than now the Engliſh bottoms have waft o'er, << Did never float upon the ſwelling tide, | e To do offence and ſcathe to Chriſtendom.“ Dr. Johnſon has juſtly obſerved in a note on this play, that many paſſages in our poet's works evidently ſhew that he often took advantage of the facts then recent and the paſſions then in motion.” Perhaps the deſcrip- tion contained in the laſt fix lines was immediately ſug- geſted to Shakſpeare by the grand fleet which was ſent againſt Spain in 1596. It conſiſted of eighteen of the largeſt of the Queen's ſhips, three of the Lord Admiral's, and above one hundred and twenty merchant-ſhips and victuallers, under the command of the earls of Notting- ham and Eſſex. The regular land- forces on board amounted to ten thouſand; and there was alſo a large body of voluntaries (as they were then called) under the command of Sir Edward Winkfield. Many of the nobi- lity went on this expedition, which was deſtined againſt Cadiz. The fleet ſailed from Plymouth on the third of 3 i596; before the end of that month the great paniſh armada was deſtroyed, and the town of. * er. | | acke OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 313 ſacked and burned. Here Lord Eſſex found 1200 pieces of ordnance, and an immenſe quantity of treaſure, ſtores, ammunition, &c. valued at twenty million of ducats. The victorious commanders of this {ucceſsful expedition returned to Plymouth, Auguſt 8, 1596, four days before the death of our poet's ſon. Many of our old hiſtorians ſpeak of the ſplendor and magnificence diſplayed by the noble and gallant adventurers who ſerved in this expe- dition; and Ben Jonſon has particularly alluded to it in his Szlent Woman, written a few years afterwards?. To mY I ſuſpect two lines already quoted particularly refer: | | «« Have ſold their fortunes at their native homes, « Bearing their birth-rights proudly on their backs.”? Dr. Johnſon conceived that the following lines in this play e's And meritorious ſhall that hand be call'd, . * Canoniz'd, and worſhipp'd as a ſaint, That takes away by any ſecret courſe Thy hateful life, might either refer to the bull publiſhed againſt Queen Elizabeth, or to the canonization of Garnet, Faux, and their accomplices, who in a Spaniſh book which he had | ſeen, are regiſtered as ſaints. If the latter alluſion had been intended, then this play, or or at leaſt this part of it, muſt have been written after 1605. But the paſſage in queſtion is founded on a ſimilar one in the old play, printed in 1591, and therefore no alluſion to the gun- powder-plot could have been intended. A line of The Spaniſh Tragedy is quoted in King Fohn, That tragedy, I believe, had appeared in or before 1590. | In the firſt act of King Fobn, an ancient tragedy, en- titled Solyman and Perſeda, is alluded to. The earlieſt a x * 4 . 33 ——＋ — = 7 — —- = + — * I 2 —_—_ - * 2 — * PX . > oo 2 = * ” = _ S, -» » — — — o " + Rove on, ih « _ - a 2. . — - — 5 - Iles. 4 2 * + 3 5K — — 9 — 7 4 3.2 - he + wo . *. ; | ! i : 0 8 1 7 had as fair a gold jerkin on that day as any was worn in the Iſland Voyage, or Cadiz, nope diſpraiſed.” Silent Woman, 1609. e edition — CO 8 i [ v4 N 4 '. 1 4 ; 10 CH * 4 8 3! »#4 — EY — 314 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER edition of that play, now extant, 1s that of 1599, but it was written, and probably acted, many years before; for it was entered on the Stationers' books, by Edward Whyte, Nov. 20, 1592. | | Marſton's Izſatiate Counteſs, which, according to Langbaine, was printed in 1603, contains a paſlage, which, if it ſhould be conſidered as an imitation of a fimilar one in King Fohn, will aſcertain this hiſtorical drama to have been written at leaſt before that year: «© Then how much more in me, whoſe youthful veins, ce Like a proud river, overflow their bounds. So, in King John: Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, & Like a proud river peering ober his bounds.” Marſton has in many other places imitated Shakſpeare. A ſpeech ſpoken by the haſtard in the ſecond act of this tragedy * ſeems to have been formed on one in an old play entitled 7% famous Hiſtory of Captain Thomas Stukely., Captain Stukely was killed in 1578. The drama of which he is the ſubje&, was not printed till 1605, but it is in the black letter, and, I believe, had been exhibited at leaſt fifteen years before. Of the only other note of. time which I have obſerved in this tragedy, beſide thoſe already mentioned, I am unable to make any uſe. When I was in France, ſays young Arthur, «© Young gentlemen would be as ſad as night, 46 Only for wantonneſs.“ J have not been able to aſcertain when the faſhion of being /ad and gentlemanlike commenced among our gayer neighbours on the continent, A ſimilar faſhion pre- vailed in England, and is often alluded to by our poet, and his contemporaries. Perhaps he has in this inſtance attributed to the French a ſpecies of affectation then 3 See Vol. IV. p. 483. : only OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 375 only found in England. It is noticed by Lily in 1592, and by Ben Jonſon in 1598. | 5 12. KING RICHARD II. 1597. King Richard II. was entered on the Stationers' books, Auguſt 29, 1597, and printed in that year. There had been a former play on this ſubject, which appears to have been called King Henry IV. in which Richard was depoſed, and killed on the ſtage. This piece, as Dr. Farmer and Mr. Tyrwhitt have obſerved, was performed on a publick theatre, at the requeſt of Sir Gilly Merick, and ſome other followers of Lord Eſſex, the afternoon before his inſurrection: “ ſo earneſt was he, (Merick) ſays the printed account of his arraignment, „to ſatisfy his eyes with a ſight of that tragedy which he thought ſoone after his lord ſhould bring from the ſtage to the ſtate.” The players told him the play was oi, and they ſhould have loſs by play- ing it, becauſe few would come to it; but no play elſe would ſerve: and Sir Gilly Merick gave forty ſhillings to Philips the player to play this, beſides whatſoever he could get 9.”? It may ſeem ſtrange that this old play ſhould have been repreſented four years after Shakſpeare's drama on the ſame ſubje& had been printed: the reaſon undoubtedly was, that in the old play the depoſing King Richard II. made a part of the exhibition : but in the firſt edition of our authour's play, one hundred and fifty-four lines, de- ſcribing a kind of trial of the king, and his actual depoſition in parliament, were omitted: nor was it pro- bably repreſented on the ſtage. Merick, Cuffe, and the reſt of Eſſex's train, naturally preferred the play in which his A 3 rs was repreſented, their plot not aim- ing at the lite of the queen. It is, I know, commonly thought, that the parliament-ſcene, (as it is called) which was firſt printed in the quarto of 1608, was an 9 Bacon's Works, Vol. IV. 412. St. Trials, Vol, VIII. p. 60. Fe 4 addition 316 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER addition made by Shakſpeare to his play after its firſt repreſentation : but it ſeems to me more probable that it was written with the reſt, and ſuppreſſed in the printed copy of 1597, from the fear of offending Elizabeth; againſt whom the Pope had publiſhed a bull in the pre. ceding year, exhorting her ſubjects to take up arms againſt her. In 1599 Hayward publiſhed his Hifory of the firſt year of Henry IV. which in fact is nothing more than an hiſtory of the depoſing Richard Il. The diſ- pleaſure which that book excited at court, ſufficiently accounts for the omitted lines not being inſerted in the copy of this play which was publiſhed in 1602. Hayward was heavily cenſured in the Star-chamber, and com- mitted to priſon. At a ſubſequent period, (1508,) when King James was quietly and firmly ſettled on the throne, and the fear of internal commotion, or foreign invaſion, no longer ſubliſted, neither the authour, the managers of the theatre, nor the bookſeller, could entertain any apprehenſion of giving offence to the ſovereign: the re- jected ſcene was reſtored without ſcruple, and from ſome play-houſe copy probably found its way to the preſs. 13. Kind RIcRARb III. 1597. Entered, at the Stationers' hall, Oct. 20, 1 597. Printed in that year. . 14. FixsT PART or K. Hewzy IV. 1597. Entered, Feb. 25, 1597. [1597-8.] Written therefore | probably in 1597. Printed in 1598. | 15. SECOND PART or Kk. Hznxy IV. 1598. The Second Part of King Henry IV. was entered in the Stationers? books, Auguſt 23, 1600, and was printed in that year. It was written, I believe, in 1598. From the epilogue it appears to have been compoled before K. Henry V. which itſelf muſt have been written in or before 1 599. | . Mere OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 317 Meres in his Wit's Treaſury, which was publiſhed in September 1598, has given a liſt of our authour's plays, and among them is K. Henry IV.; but as he does not deſcribe it as a play in two parts, I doubt whether this ſecond part had been exhibited, though it might have been then written. If it was not in his contemplation, it may be preſumed to have appeared in the latter part of the year 1598. His words are theſe: “ As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the beſt for comedy and tra- gedy, among the Latines, ſo Shakſpeare, among the Engliſh, is the moſt excellent in both kinds for the ſtage: his Lowe's Labour's Loft, his Love's Labour's Wonne, his Mid/ummer-Night's Dream, and his Merchant of Venice; for tragedy ', his Richard II. Richard III. HEN RYIV. K. John, Titus Andronicus, and his Romeo and Juliet. The following alluſion to one of the characters in this play, which 1s found in Ben Jonſon's Every Man out of his Humour, Act V. ſc. ii. firſt acted in 1599, is an ad- ditional authority for ſuppoſing the Second Part of King Henry IV. to have been written in 1598: « Savi, What's he, gentle Mons, Briſk ? Not that gentleman ? «© Faft. No, lady; this is a kinſman to Juſtice Silence.“ That this play was not written before the year 1 596, is aſcertained by the following alluſions. In the laſt act Clarence, ſpeaking of his father, ſays, « The inceſſant care and labour of his mind « Hath wrought the muxe, that ſhould confine it in, _ «© So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.“ Theſe lines appear to have been formed on the follow- ing in Daniel's Civil Warres, 1595, B. III. It. 116. 1 The circumſtance of Hotſpur's death in this play, and its being an hiſtorical drama, I ſuppoſe, induced Meres to denominate the Firſt Part of K. Henry IV. a tragedy, 2 Wit's Treaſury, p. 282. « Wearing for comedy, witneſs his Gentlemen of Verona, his Errors, —_— — — —— — - * MT: OR Lt £ 7 % — —ä4 Canes. Can ad AS 2 * > Þ gap 7 — . — 5 © bd _ ol 4 . N - . — - 8 8 £ 4 —— —— — - " = - 1 A 2 3 — - 2 — 7 : ; p „ 8 ** p — : "7 „ 7 "*...4 4 > 3 ; ; * - . -» 92 — — - - "I. 4 —— 0 — * - — l S a _ — — 3 * - * S? » * «a 2 & » C \ 9 * 23 — 24 ISS 3. \ *. — T e — — . +. J ˙ tt oper =" > B, KL. P wwaSfhc > wy —_ ""” * ©» —U— - * | 318 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER * Wearing the wall ſo thin, that now the mind Might well look thorough, and his frailty find.“ Daniel's poem, though not publiſhed till 1595, was entered on the Stationers? books, in October 1594. The diftich, with which Piſtol conſoles himſelf, $; Fortuna me tormenta, &c. had, I believe, appeared in an old collection of tales, and apothegms, entitled Wits, Fits, and Fancies, which was entered at Sta- tioners-hall in 1595, and probably printed in that year. Sir Richard Hawkins, as Dr. Farmer has obſerved, << in his voyage to the South Sea in 1593, throws out the ſame jingling diſtich on the loſs of his pinnace.”” But no account of that voyage was publiſhed betore 1598. | | 15 the laſt act of this play the young king thus ad- dreſſes his brothers: Brothers, you mix your ſadneſs with ſome fear. «© This is the Engliſh, not the Turkiſh court; «© Not Amurath an Amurath ſucceeds, «« But Harry Harry.“ It is highly probable, as is obſerved in a note on that paſſage, that Shakſpeare had here in contemplation the cruelty practiſed by the Turkiſh emperor, Mahomet, who after the death of his father, Amurath the Third, in Feb. 15965, invited his unſuſpecting brothers to a feaſt, and cauſed them all to be ſtrangled. 16. Tur MERCHANT or Venice, 1598. Entered at the Stationers-hall, July 22, 1598 and mentioned by Meres in that year. Publiſhed in 1600. 3 The affairs of this court had previouſly attracted the publick at- tention; for in 1594 was publiſhed at London, A Letter fent by Amu- rath the great Turke to Chriſtendom, : 5 Arr's * OF. SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 219 17. ALL's WELL THAT Ex DS WELL, 1598. All's awell that ends well was not regiſtered at Sta- tioners' hall, nor printed till 1623; but has been thought to be the play mentioned by Meres in 1598, under the title of Lowe's Labour's Won, No other of our authour's plays could have borne that title with ſo much propriety as that before us; yet it muſt be acknowledged that the preſent title is inſerted in the body of the play: e All, avell that ends well; ſtill the fine's the | [crown,”” &c, This line, however, might certainly have ſuggeſted the alteration of what has been thought the firſt title, and affords no deciſive proof that this piece was origi- nally called All's well that ends well, The words that compoſe the preſent title appear to have been pro- verbial +, I formerly ſuppoſed that a comedy called 4 bad be- ginning makes a good ending, which was acted at court in 1613, by the Company ot John Heminge, was the pla now under conſideration, with only a new title : but was miſtaken, The play then exhibited was written by John Ford. , | | In All's awell that ends well, “ The ſhewing of a hea- venly effect in an earthly actor,“ is mentioned. If this ſhould prove to be the title of ſome tract, (which is not improbable,) and the piece ſhould be hereatter diſcover- ed, it may ſerve in ſome meaſure to aſcertain the date of the play. This comedy alſo contains an alluſion to the diſpute between the puritans and proteſtants concerning the uſe of the ſurplice, That diſpute began in 1589; and was much agitated during all the remainder of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. | | 4 See The Remidie of Love, tranſlated from Ovid, 1600, Sign. E. 3. b. «© You take the old proverb with a right application for my juſt excules Allis well tbat ends well; and fo end 1.” See allo Camden's Proverbial Sentences, Remains, 1614. | 8 © 6 Plutus A. * ” ©» = cena a s —— 9. — R r or > 2 n — _—_ . | 2 Cates. ave. 3 * n 8 w — . +» „ LN X 3 5 7 2 — — — — — — we ry | | 320 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER «« Plutus himſelf,“ (ſays one of the characters in this play,) That knows the tin& and multiplying medicine,“ &c. ſtone particularly engaged the publick attention at the period to which this comedy has been aſcribed; and quote the paſſage only for the conſideration of thoſe who are more converſant with that ſubject. ; | 18. KING HENRY V. 1599. Mr. Pope thought that this hiſtorical drama was one of our authour's lateſt compoſitions; but he was evidently miſtaken. Ming Henry V. was entered on the Stationers“ books, Auguſt 14, 1600, and printed in the ſame year. It was written after the Second Part of King Henry IV. being promiſed in the epilogue of that play; and while the Earl of Eſſex was in Ireland. Lord Eſſex went to Ireland April 15, 1599, and returned to London on the 28th of September in the ſame year. So that this play (unleſs the paſſage relative to him was inſerted after the piece was finiſhed,) muſt have been compoſed be- tween April and September, 1599. Suppoſing that paſſage a ſubſequent inſertion, the play was probably not written long before; for it is not mentioned by Meres in 1598. | The prologue to Ben Jonſon's Every Man in his Hu- mour® ſeems clearly to allude to this play; and, if it had been written at the ſame time with the piece itſelf, might induce us, notwithſtanding the filence of Meres, to place King Henry V. a year or two earlier; for Every Man in Bis Humour is ſaid to have been acted in 1598. But the prologue which now appears before it, was not written till after 1601, when the play was printed without a prologue. It appears to have been Jonſon's firſt per- 5 See the Chorus to the fifth act of King Henry V. He rather prays, you will be pleaſed to ſee c One ſuch, to-day, as other plays ſhould be; « Where neiber Chorus wafts you o'er tbe ſeas, &c. | Prologue to Every Man in bis Humour. Fol. 1616. | | formance; * I know not whether the purſuit of the philoſopher's OF SHARKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 321 formance? ; and we may preſume that it was the very play, which, we are told, was brought on the ſtage by the good offices of Shakſpeare, who himſelf acted in it. Malignant and envious as Jonſon appears to have been, he hardly would have ridiculed his benefattor at the very time he was ſo eſſentially obliged to him. Some years afterwards his jealouſy broke out, and vented it- ſelf in this prologue, which firſt appeared in the folio edition of Jonſon's Works, publiſhed in 1616. It is certain that, not long after the year 1600, a coolneſs * 7 Jonſon himſelf tells us in his Induction to the Magnetic! Lady, that this was his firſt dramatick performance.“ The authour begin- ning his ſtudies of this kind with Every Man in bis Humour.” s See an old comedy called The Return from Parnaſſus : | This piece was not publiſhed till, 1606; but appears to have been written in 1602, certainly was produced before the death of Queen Elizabeth, which happened on the 24th of March 1602-3.] ©* Why here's our fellow Shakſpeare puts them all down; ay and Ben Fonſon too. O, that Ben Jonſon is a peſtilent fellow; he brought up Horace giving the poets a pill, but our fellow Shakſpeare hath given him a purge that made him bewray his credit.“ | int The play of Jonſon's in which be gave the poets a pill, is the Poet- after, acted in 1601. In that piece ſome paſſages of King Henry V. are ridiculed. In what manner. Shakſpeare put bim down, or made bim bewray bis credit, does not appear. His retaliation, we may be well aſſured, contained no groſs or illiberal apuſe; and, perhaps, did not go beyond a ballad or an epigram, whic have periſhed with things of greater conſequence. He has, howevery marked his diſre- gard for the calumniator of his fame, by not leaving him any memorial by his Will.—In an apologetical dialogue which Jonſon annexed: to the Poetaſter, he ſays, he had been provoked for three years. (i. e. from : 598 to 1601) on every ſtage by ſlanderers; as for the players, he ays, ak | cc It is true, I tax'd them, | ec And yet but ſome, and thoſe ſo ſparingly, | | « As all the reſt might have ſat ſtill unqueſtion' d: 6c What they have done againſt me J am not mov'd with. If it gave them meat, | « Or got them cloaths, tis well; that was their end. : | « Only, amongſt them, I am ſorry for | c Some better natures, by the reſt drawn in c To run in that vile line.” | | By the words Some better natures,” there can, I think, be little of doubt that Shakſpeare was alluded to. Voi. . LX] aroſe 322 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER aroſe between Shakſpeare and him, which, however he may talk of his almoſt idolatrous affection, produced on his part, from that time to the death of our authour, and for many years afterwards, much clumſy ſarcaſm, and many malevolent reflectionsꝰ. 8 80 | . On ' © In his Sileat Woman, 1609, Act V. ſc. ii. Jonſon perhaps pointed at Shakſpeare, as one whom he viewtd 407th ſcornful, yet with jealtus, s2 A, : 1 % So, they may cenſure poets and authors, and compare them; Daniel with Spenſer, Jonſon with other youth, and ſo forth.“ Decker, however, might have been meant. : 5 Again, in the ſame play: | | ET « You two ſhall be the chorus behind the arras, and whip out between the acts, and ſpeak,” og | In the Induction to Bartbolometo Fair, which was ated in 1614, two years before the death of our Huthour, three of his plays, and in the piece itſelf two others, are Attempted to be ridiculed, In The Devil's an Aſs, ated in 1676, all his hiſtorical plays are obliquely cenſured. 5 $4 | 1 Mercer. 4 By my faith you are cunning in the chronicles, Fitæ- dot. No, I confeſs, 1 ha't from the play-books, and think they are more authentick,” 5 | | They are again attacked in the Induction to Bartholomew Fair: * An ſome writer that I know, had but the penning o' this matter, He would ha' made you ſuch 'a Jig. Jeg i the booths, you fhould ha thought an earrbguake had been in the fair. But thefe þ + 45 $164, they Will ha' their own abfurd courſes, they will be informed of no- thing.” : | "The following pafſape in Cynthia's Rebel; 1601, was, I think, likewife pointed againſt Shikfpeares pg „ Befides, they would with your poets Would leave to be promoters of other men's jeſſo, and to way-lay all the ſtale apothegms br 274 books they can hear of, in print or otherwiſe, to farce their ſcenes withal :— Again, that feeding their friends with nothing of their own, but what they have tzuice or thrice Cooked, they ſhould not wantonly give out how ſoon they had dreſs'd it, nor How many coaches came to carry away the br6ken meat, befides hobby-horſes and foot-cloth nags.” Jonſon's plots Wete all his own invention ; our authour's chiefly taken from preceding plays or novels. The former employed a year or two in compoſing a play; the latter probably produced two every year, while he remained in the theatre. | The InduQtion to The Staple of News, which appeared in 1625, not very long after the publication of our authour's plays in folio, con- tains a ſneer at a paſſage in Julius Cæſar: | EC. | f 2 ct Know - „ 1 OF SHAKSPEARF'S PLAYS. 323 On this play Mr. Pope has the following note, Act J. ey, « This firſt ſcene was added fince the edition of 1608, cc Know; Cæſar doth not wrong ; nor without cauſe «© Will he be ſatisfieds” . ; | which for the purpoſe of ridicule is quoted unfaithfully ; and in the - ſame play may be found an effort, as impotent as that of Voltaire *, to raiſe a laugh at Hamlet's exclamation when he kills Potonius, Some other paſſages which are found in Jonſon's works, might be mentioned in ſupport of this obſervation, but being quoted Hereafter for other purpoſes, they are here omitted; - 1 Notwithſtanding theſe proofs, Jonſon's malevolence to Shakſpeare, and jealouſy of his ſuperior reputation, have been doubted by Mr. Pope and others; and much ſtreſs has been lald on a paſſage in his Diſcoveries, and on the commendatory verſes prefixed to the firſt edi- [. tion of our authour's plays in folio, —The reader, after having peruſed Þ the following character of Jonſon, drawn by Mr. Drummond of Haw. G1 thornden, a contemporary, and an intimate acquaintance of his, will # not, perhaps, readily believe theſe poſthumous encomiums to have been 0 fincere. “ Ben Jonfon,” ſays that writer, “ was a great lover and i praiſer of himſelf; a contemner and ſcorner of others; given rather to } loſe a friend than a jeſt ; jealous of every word and action of thoſe about bs him, eſpecially after drink, which is one of the elements in which he ; lived; a diflembler of the parts which reign in him; a bragger of ſome F good that he wanted : thinketh nothing well done, but what either he „ himſelf or ſome of his friends have ſaid or done; he Is paſſionately 1 kind and angry; careleſs either to gain or keep; vindictive, but, if 1 he be well anſwered, angry] at himſelf; interprets beſt ſayings and deeds often to the worſt T. He was for any religion, as being verſed in both; oppreſſed with fancy, which over-maſtered his reaſon, a general diſeaſe in many poets, His Inventions are ſmooth and eaſy, but above | all, he excelleth in tranſlation.” Drummond's Works, fol. 1711; +226, | 3 | : In the year 1619 Jonſon went to Scotland, to viſit Mr. Drummond, who has left a curious account of a converſation that paſſed between them, relative to the principal poets of thoſe times. | „ Ah! ma mere,.scrie-t-il, il y a un gros rat derriẽre la tapif- | | firiez il tire ſon ẽpẽe, cburt au rat, et tue le boh homme Polonius.“ Oeuvres de Voltaire, Tome XV. p. 473. $to, | + His miſquoting a line of Julius Cæ ſar, ſo as to render it nonſenſe, at a time when the play was in print, is a ſtrong illuſtration of this _ part of his character. The plea of an unfaithful memory cannot be urged in his defence, for he tells us in his Diſcoveries, that till he was paſt forty, he could repeat every thing that he had written, 1 21 which — — > — — 93 — 324 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER which 1s much ſhort of the preſent editions, wherein the ſpeeches are generally enlarged, and raiſed; ſeveral whole (ſcenes beſides, and the choruſes alſo, were ſince added by Shakeſpeare.” a Dr. Warburton alſo poſitively aſſerts that this firſt ſcene was written after the acceſſion of K. James I. and the ſubſequent editors 1 that ſeveral additions were made by the authour to King Henry V. after it was origi- ginally compoſed. But there is, I believe, no good ground for theſe afſertions. It is true that no perfect edition of this play was publiſhed before that in folio, in 1623; but it does not follow from thence, that the ſcenes which then firſt appeared in print, and all the choruſes, were added by Shat/peare, as Mr. Pope ſuppoſes, after 1608, We know indeed the contrary to be true; for the chorus to the fifth act muſt have been written In 1599. | The fair inference to be . drawn from the imper- fect and mutilated copies of this play, publiſhed in 1600, 1602, and 1608, is, not that the whole play, as we now have it, did not then exiſt, but that thoſe copies were ſurreptitious ; and that the editor in 1600, not being able to publiſh the whole, publiſhed what he could, | | I have not indeed met with any evidence (except in three plays) that the ſeveral ſcenes which are found in the folio of 1623, and are not in the preceding quartos, were added by the ſecond labour of the authour.— The laſt chorus of King Henry V. already mentioned, affords a ftriking proof that this was not always the caſe, The two copies of the Second Part of King Henry IV. printed in the ſame year, (1600) furniſh another. In one of theſe, the whole firſt ſcene of Act III. is wanting; not becauſe it was then unwritten, (for it 1s found in the other copy publiſhed in that year,) but becauſe the editor was not poſſeſſed of it. That what have been called additions by the authour, were not really ſuch, may be alſo collected from another circumſtance ; that in ſome of the quartos where theſe ſuppoſed additions are want- ing, OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 325 ing, references and replies are found to the paſſages omitted *. | | I do not however mean to ſay, that Shakſpeare never made any alterations in his prays We have reaſon to believe that Romeo and Fuliet, Hamlet, and the Merry Wiwes of Windſer, were reviſed and augmented by the authour ; and a ſecond reviſal or temporary topicks might have ſuggeſted, in a courſe of years, ſome additions and alterations in ſome other of his pieces. But with reſpect to the entire ſcenes that are wanting in ſome of the early editions, (particularly thoſe of King Henry VJ. King Richard IT. and the Second Part of King Henry IV.) I ſuppoſe the omiſſions to have ariſen from the imperfection of the copies; and inſtead of ſaying that the firſt ſcene of King Henry V. was added by the authour after the pub- lication of the quarto in 1600,”” all that we can pro- nounce with certainty is, that this ſcene is not found in the.quarto of 1600. 19. Muck Apo ABOUT NoTHING, 1600. Much Ado about Nothing was written, we may pre- . ſume, early in the year 1600; for it was entered at 1. Stationers' hall, Auguſt 23, 1600, and printed in that 1 year, : | : ES. ; = It is not mentioned by Meres in his liſt of our authour's 6 plays, publiſhed in the latter end of the year 1598. 20. As You LIEE Ir, 1600. This comedy was not printed till 1623, and the caveat or memorandum * in the ſecond volume of the books of 1 Of this fee a remarkable inſtance in X. Henry IV. P. II. Act l. ſc. i. where Morton in a long ſpeech having informed Northumberland that the archbiſhop of York had joined the rebel party, the earl re- plies,—“ I knew of this before.” The quarto contains the reply, but not a ſingle line of the narrative to which it relates, 2 See Mr. Steevens's extracts from the books of the Stationers? com- pany, ante, P. 2530 1932. the 326 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER the Stationers' company, relative to the three plays of As you like it, Henry V. and Much ado about Nothing, has no date except Aug. 4. But immediately above that caveat there is an entry, dated May 27, 1600,—and the eritry immediately following it, is dated Jan, 23, 1603, We may therefore preſume that this caveat was entered between thoſe two periods: more eſpecially, as the dates ſcattered over the pages where this entry 1s found, are, except in one inſtance, in a regular ſeries from 1596 to 1615. This will appear more clearly by exhibiting the entry exactly as it ſtands in the book; 5 | 27 May 1600, To Mr. Rober ts,] Allar um to London. | 4 Aug: As you like it, a book. a | | Henry the Fift, a book. RY Every Man in his Humour, a book. . to be ſtated, Comedy of Much Ado about Nothing. — 23 Jan. 1603. To Thomas Thorpe . BY and William Aſpley. 1 This to be their copy, &c, It is extremely probable that this 4th of Auguſt was of the year 1600; which ſtanding a little higher on the paper, the clerk of the Stationers* company might have thought unneceſſary to be repeated. All the plays which were entered with As you like it, and are here ſaid zo be frtaied, were printed in the year 1600 or 1601. The ſtay or injunction againſt the printing appears to have been very ſpeedily taken off; for in ten days afterwards, on the 14th of Auguſt, 1600, King Henry V. was entered, and publiſhed in the ſame year, So, Much ado about Nothing was entered Auguft 23, 1600, and printed alſo In that year: and Every Mau in his Humour was publiſh- ed in 1601, 5 os = 5 Shakſpeare, - OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 327 Shakſpeare, it is ſaid, played the part of Adam in As you like it, As he was not eminent on the ftage, it is probable that he ceaſed to act ſome years before he retired to the country. His appearance, however, in this comedy, is not inconſiſtent with the date here aſſigned; for we know that he performed a part in Jon- ſon's Sęjanus in 1603. RN > | A paſlage in this comedy furniſhes an additional proof of its not having been written before the year 1596, nor after the year 1603. I will weep for nothing,“ ſays Roſalind, ** like Diana in the fountain.” Stowe in his Survey of London, 1598, informs us, that in the year 1596 at the eaſt fide of the Croſs in Cheapſide was ſet up ** a curious wrought tabernacle of gray marble, and in the ſame an alabaſter image of Diaua, and water con- veyed from the Thames, prilling from her naked breaſt.“ * To this the paſſage above cited certainly alludes. In his ſecond edition of the ſame work, printed in 1603, he informs the reader, that the water flowed in this manner for a time, but that the ſtatue was then decayed. It was, we ſee, in order in 1598, and continued ſo without doubt for two years afterwards, that 1s, till 1600, when As you like it appears ta have been written. In this comedy a lipe of Marlowe's Hero and Leander is quoted. That poem was publiſhed in 1598, and proba- bly before. | 21. Merry Wives of WinDso0R, 1601, The following line in the earlieſt edition of this comedy, | | | e Sail like my pinnace to thoſe golden ſhores,”? ſhews that it was written after Sir Walter Raleigh's re- turn from Guiana in 1596. | The firſt ſketch of The Merry Wives of Windſor was printed in 1602. It was entered in the books of the Stationers* company, on the 18th of January 1601-2, and was therefore probably written in 1601, after the leo parts of King Henry IV, being, it is ſaid, compoſed us - LX 4 ] at * —— OE —ͤ—ͤ— 44 —— 7 — . - * * — 328 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER at the deſire of queen Elizabeth, in order to exhibit Falſtaff in love, when all the pleaſantry which he could afford in any other ſituation was exhauſted. But it may not be-thought ſo clear, that it was written after King HenryY. Nym and Bardolph are both hanged in King Henry V. yet appear in The Merry Wives of Windſor, Falſtaff is diſgraced in the Second Part of King Henry IV. and dies in King Henry V.; but in the Merry Wives of Wind/jor he talks as if he were yet in favour at court; * If it ſhould come to the ear of the court how ] have been transformed, &c 2? and Mr. Page diſcountenances Fen- ton's addreſſes to his daughter, becauſe he kept company evith the wild prince and with Points. Theſe circum- ſtances ſeem to favour the ſuppoſition that this play was written between the F:r/t and Second Parts of K. Henry I). But that it was not written then, may be collected from the tradition above mentioned. The truth, I believe, js, that though it ought to be read (as Dr. Johnſon has obſerved,) between the Second Part of King Henry IV, and King Henry V, it was written after King Henry V. and after Shakſpeare had killed Falſtaff. In obedience to the royal commands, having revived him, he found it neceſſary at the ſame time to revive all thoſe perſons with whom he was wont to be exhibited ; Nym, Piſtol, Bardolph, and the Page: and diſpoſed of them as he found it convenient, without a ſtrict regard to their ſitu- ations or cataſtrophes in former plays. There is reaſon to believe that The Merry Wives of Windſor was reviſed and enlarged by the authour, after its firſt production. The old edition in 1602, like that of Romeo and Juliet, is apparently a rough draught, and not a mutilated or imperfe& copy. The preciſe time when the alterations and additions were made, has not been aſcertained : however, ſome paſſages in the en- larged copy may aſſiſt us in our conjectures on the ſubject. Falſtaff's addreſs to juſtice Shallow in the firſt ſcene ſnews that the alterations were made after King James came to the throne: Now, Maſter Shallow, you'll complain of me to the 4:ng.” In the fir copy the words are, „to the council. : 1 5 | : , When OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 329 When Mrs. Page obſerves to Mrs. Ford, that“ theſe knights will hack,“ which words are not in the original copy, Shakſpeare, it has been thought, meant to con- vey a covert ſneer at King James's prodigality in be- ſowing knighthood in the beginning of his reign. Between the king's arrival at Berwick and the 2d of May, 1603, he made 237 knights; and in the follow- ing July near four hundred, The beſt courtier of them all,** ſays Mrs. Quickly, «« when the court lay at Windſor, could never have brought her to ſuch a canary. Yet there have been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches, I warrant you, coach after coach,“ &. 4, The court went to Windſor in the beginning of July, 1603, and ſoon afterwards the feaſt of Saint George was celebrated there with great ſolemnity. The Prince of Wales, the duke of Lenox, our poet's great patron the earl of Southampton, the earl of Pembroke, and the earl of Marre, were inſtalled knights of the garter; and the chief ladies of England did homage to the queen. The king and queen afterwards uſually reſided in the ſum- mer at Greenwich. The alluſion to the inſignia of the order of the garter in the fifth act of this comedy, if written recently after ſo. ſplendid a ſolemnity, would have a peculiar grace; yet the order having been ori- ginally inſtituted at Windſor by King Edward III., the place in which the ſcene lay, might, it muſt be owned, have ſuggeſted an alluſion to it, without any particular or temporary object.— It is obſervable that Mrs. Quickly ſays, there had been knights, lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches, coach after coach, &c. Coaches, as ap- pears from Howes's Continuation of Stowe's Chronicle, did not come into general uſe, till the year 1605. It may therefore be preſumed that this play was not en- larged very long before that year. e There is yet another note of time to be conſidered. In the firſt ſcene of the enlarged copy of the Merry Wives of Windſor, Slender aſks Mr. Page, How does your tallow grey-hound, fir ? I hear he was out run on * | e 4 4 4 ' : — ̃7—In— 330 CHRONOLOGICAL ORPER He means the Cotiwald hills in Gloceſterſhire. In the beginning of the reign of James the Firſt, the Cotſwold games were inſtituted by one Dover. They conſiſted, as Mr, Warton has obſerved, ** of wreſtling, leaping, pitching the bar, handling the pike, dancing of women, various kinds of hunting, and particularly courſing the hare with greyhounds.” Mr, Warton is of opinion that two or three years muſt have elapſed before theſe games could have been effectually eſtabliſhed, and therefore ſup oſes that our authour's additions to this comedy were made about the year 1607. Dr. Farmer doubts whether Capt. Dover was the founder of theſe games. Though the Captain,“ he obſerves, be celebrated in the Aunalia Dubrenſia as the founder of them, he might be the rewiver only, or ſome way contribute to make them more famous; for in the ſecond part of King Henry IV. Juſtice Shallow reckons among the Awinge-bucklers, 4 Will Squeele, a Cotſole man.“ In confirmation of Dr. Farmer's opinion Mr. Steevens remarks, that in Randolph's poems, 1638, is found“ An eclogue on the noble aſſemblies revived on Cotſwold hills by Mr. Robert Dover.” If the Cotſwold games were celebrated before the death of Queen Elizabeth, the paſſage above cited cer- tainly proves nothing. Let us then endeayour to aſcer- tain that fact. Dover himſelf tells us in the Annalia Dubren/ia that he was the Founder of theſe games: 4 Yet I was bold for better recreation To invent theſe ſports, to counter-check that faſhion.” and from Ben Jonſon's verſes in the ſame collection we learn that they were exhibited in the time of James I. and revived in 1636. Nothing more then follows from Randolph's verſes, compared with Jonſon's, than that the games had been diſcontinued after their firſt inſtitu- tion by Dover, (probably ſoon after the death of King James) and were revived by their founder at a ſuble- quent period. Cotſwold, long before the death of Elizabeth, might have been famous for ſwinge-bucklers, 4 | | or TS Ld OF. SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 331 or in other words for ſtrong men, ſkilled in fighting with ſword and buckler, wreſtling, and other athletick exer- ciſes: but there is no ground for ſuppoſing that courſing with greyhounds, in order to obtain the prize of a ſilver collar, was cuſtomary there, till Dover inſtituted thoſe prizes 1 * the acceſſion of James to the throne. This comedy was not printed in its preſent ſtate till 1623, when it was publiſhed with the reſt of our au- thour's plays in folio. The re- publication of the imper- fect copy in 1619 has been mentioned as a circumſtance from which we may infer that Shakſpeare's improved play was not written, or at leaſt not acted, till ſome years after 1607. I confeſs, I do not perceive, on what ground this inference is made. Arthur Johnſon, the bookſeller for whom the imperfe& copy of this play was publiſhed in 1602, when the whole edition was ſold off, reprinted it in 1619, knowing that the enlarged copy remained in Mf. in the hands of the proprietors of the Globe Theatre, and that ſuch of the publick as wiſhed to read the play in any form, muſt read the imperfect lay, of which he had ſecured the property by entering t at Stationers' hall. In the ſame manner Thomas Pavier in 1619 reprinted the firſt and ſecond parts of The whole Contention of the two houſes of Yorke and Lancaſter, though he could not but know that the Second and Third Parts of King Henry VI. which were formed on thoſe | Pieces, and were much more valuable than them, had. een frequently ated, antecedent to his re-publication, and that the original plays had long been withdrawn from the ſcene. Not being able to procure the improved and perfect copies, a needy bookſeller would publiſh what he could. | 22. King Henzxy VIII. 1601, This play was probably written, as Dr. Johnſon and Mr. Steevens obſerve, before the death of queen Eliza. beth, which happened on the 24th of March, 1602-3. The elogium on Bez James, which is blended with the | | panegyrick ' = : =_ _ 1 _—_ | ' = 332 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER panegyrick on Elizabeth, in the laſt ſcene, was evidently a ſubſequent inſertion, after the acceſſion of the Scottiſh monarch to the throne: for Shakſpeare was too well acquainted with courts, to compliment in the life-time of queen Elizabeth, her preſumptive ſucceſſor, of whom hiſtory informs us ſhe was not a little jealous, That the prediction concerning king James was added after the death of the queen, is ſtill more clearly evinced, as Dr. Johnſon has remarked, by the aukward manner in which it is connected with the foregoing and ſubſequent lines. The following lines in that prediction may ſerve to | aſcertain the time when the compliment was introduced: «« Wherever the bright ſun of heaven ſhall ſhine, «© His honour and the greatneſs of his name 6c Shall be, and make new nations.“ Though Virginia was diſcovered in 1584, the firſt colony ſent out went there in 1606. In that year the king granted two letters patent for planting that coun- try, one to the city of London, the other to the cities of Briſtol, Exeter and Plymouth. The colony ſent from London ſettled in Virginia ; that from the other cities in New England ; the capital of which was built in the following year, and called Fames-toaun. In 1606 alſo a ſcheme was adopted for the plantation of Ulſter in Ire- lands. I ſuſpect therefore that the panegyrick on the king was introduced either in that year, or in 1612, when a lottery was granted expreſsly for the eſtabliſh- ment of Engliſh Colonies in Virginia. | It may be objected, that if this play was written after the acceſſion of king James, the authour could not in- troduce a panegyrick on him, without making queen Elizabeth the vehicle of it, ſhe being the object imme- diately preſented to the audience in the laſt act of King Henry VIII.; and that, therefore, the praiſes ſo profuſely laviſhed on her, do zo: prove this play to have been written in her life-time ; on the contrary, that the con- cluding lines of her character ſeem to 1mply that ſhe was dead, when it was compoſed. The objection certainly 3 Bacon's Works, Vol. IV. p. 440. - ED. has OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS, 33233 has weight; but, I apprehend, the following obſerva- tions afford a ſufficient anſwer to it. 1. It is more likely that Shakſpeare ſhould have written a play, the chief ſubject of which is, the diſgrace of queen Catharine, the aggrandizement of Anne Boleyn, and the birth of her daughter, in the life-time of that daughter, than after her death: at a time when the ſub- ject mutt have been highly pleaſing at court, rather than at a period when it mult have been leſs intereſting. Queen Catharine, it is true, is repreſented as an ami- able character, but ſtill ſhe is ec/zp/ed; and the greater her merit, the higher was the compliment to the mother of Elizabeth, to whoſe ſuperior beauty ſhe was obliged to give way. | 1 2. If King Henry VIII. had been written in the time of king James I. the authour, inſtead of expatiating ſo largely in the laſt ſcene, in praiſe of the queen, which he could not think would be acceptable to her ſucceſſor, who hated her memory“, would probably have made him the principal figure in the prophecy, and thrown her into the back-ground as much as poſlible. 3. Were James I. Shakſpeare's chief object in the ori- ginal conſtruction of the laſt act of this play, he would probably have. given a very ſhort character of Elizabeth, and have dwelt on that of James, with whoſe praiſe he would have concluded, in order to make the ſtronger im- preſſion on the audience, inſtead of returning again to queen Elizabeth, in a very aukward and abrupt manner, after her character ſeemed to be quite finiſhed: an auk- wardneſs that can only be accounted for, by ſuppoſing the panegyrick on king James an after- production“. : * King James on his acceſſion to the throne ſtudiouſly marked his diſregard for Elizabeth by the favour which he ſhewed to Lord South- ampton, and to every other perſon who had been diſgraced by her. Of this Shakſpeare could not be ignorant. 4 After having enumerated ſome of the bleſſings which were to enſue from the birth of Elizabeth, and celebrated her majeſty's various vir- tues, the poet thus proceeds: | © Cran, In ber days every man ſhall eat in ſafety © Under his own vine, what he plants, and ſing . c The ' ki k þ 334 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER 4. If the queen had been dead when our authour wrots this play, he would have been acquainted with the par- ticular circumſtances attending her death, the fituation of the kingdom at that time, and of foreign ftates, &c, and as archbiſhop Cranmer 1s ſuppoſed to have had the gift of prophecy, Shakſpeare, probably, would have made him mention ſome of thoſe circumſtances. Whereas the prediction, as it ſtands at preſent, is quite general, and ſuch as — — without any hazard of error, have been pronounced in the life-time of her majeſty; for the principal facts that it foreteHs, are, that ſhe ſhould die aged, and a virgin. Of the former, ſuppoſing this piece to have been written in 1601, the authour was ſufficiently ſecure; for ſne was then near ſeventy years old. The latter may perhaps be thought too delicate a ſubject, to have been mentioned while ſhe was yet living. But we may preſume, it was far from being an ungrateful topick-; for very early after her acceſſion to the throne, ſhe appears to have been proud of her maiden character; declarmg that ſhe was vedded to her people, and that the deſired no other inſcription on her tomb, than— t The merry ſongs of peace to all his neighbours. 4 God ſhall be truly known; and thoſe about her « From her ſhall read the perfect ways of honour, 4 And by thoſe claim their greatneſs, not by blood, ce * {hall this peace ſleep with her; but as when «© The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phænix, te Her aſhes new-create another heir, 4 As great in admiration as herſelf; 4c So ſhall ſhe leave her bleſſedneſs to one, &c. * He Hall flouriſh, % Ana, like a mountain ceoar, reach his branches % To all the plains about him :z—our children's children c Shall ſee this, and bleſs heaven. « King. Thou ſpeakeſt wonders, ] 4 Can, She thall be; to the happineſs of England, & An aged princeſs; many days ſhall fee her « And yet no day without a deed to crown it. « Would I had known no more! bot ſhe muſt die, « She muſt, the ſaints muſt have her; yet a virgin,” &c. The lines between crotchets, ate thoſe, ſuppoſed to have been in- ferted by the authour after the acceflion of king James. Here OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 335 Here lyeth' Elizabeth, who reigned aud died à virgin 5. Beſides, if Shakſpeare knew, as probably moſt people at that time did, that ſhe became very ſolicitous about the reputation of virginity, when her title to it was at leaſt equivocal, this would be an additional inducement to him to compliment her on that head. | | 5. Granting that the latter part of the panegyriek on Elizabeth implies that {he was dead when it was com- poſed, it would not prove that this play was written in the time of king James; for heſe latter lines in praiſe of 5 1 the queen, as well as the whole of the compliment to the of king; might have been added after his acceflion to the ö throne, in order to bring the ſpeaker' back to the object immediately before him, the infant Elizabeth. And this Mr. Theobald conjectured to have been the caſe. I do | | not, however, ſee any nece//ity fur this ſuppoſition ; as # there is nothing, in my apprehenſion, contained in any 1 of the lines in praiſe of the queen, incohſiſtent with the notion of the avhole of the panegyrick on her having been compoſed in her life-time. . In further confirmation of what has been here advanced to ſnew that this play was probably written while queen Elizabeth was yet alive, it may be obſerved, (to uſe the 7 words of an anonymous writer, ©) that“ Shakſpeate has | caſt the diſagreeable parts of her farber's Character as much into ſhade as poſſible; that he has reprefented him as greatly diſpleaſed with the grievances ef his ſubjeRs, and ordering them to be relieved; tender and obligiag [in the early part of the play] to his queen, grateful to the cardinal, and in. the caſe of Cranmer, capable of diſtinguiſhing and rewarding true metit.”” Ie has exerted (adds the {ame authour) an equal degree of com- plaiſance, by the amiable lights in which he has ſhewn the mother of Elizabeth. Anne Bullen 1s repreſented as affected with the moſt tender concern for the ſufferings of her miſtreſs, queen Catharine; receiving the honour the Camden, 27. Melvil, 49. © The authour of Shakſpeare IIluſtrated. : x 5 king 4 3236 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER king confers on her, by making her marchioneſs of Pembroke, with a graceful humility ; and more anxi- ous to conceal her advancement from the queen, leſt it ſhould aggravate her ſorrows, than ſolicitous to pene- 4 | trate into the meaning of ſo extraordinary a favour, 4 | or of indulging herſelf in the flattering proſpect of future | = royalty.“ 5 a ; 5 It is unneceſſary to quote particular paſſages in ſupport of theſe aſſertions; but the following lines, which are ſpoken of Anne Boleyn by the Lord Chamberlain, appear . to me ſo evidently calculated' for the ear 'of Elizabeth, | (to whom ſuch incenſe was by no means diſpleaſing, ) that I cannot forbear to tranſcribe them: | «Se « She is a. gallant creature, and complete | . In mind and feature. I perſuade me, from har 4 Vill fall ſome bleſſing to this land, which ſhall 4 In it be memorix d. | Again : I have peruſed her well; «© Beauty and honour are in her ſo mingled, | 3 That they have caught the king: and who knows yet, « But from this lady may proceed a gem e To lighten all this ifle.”? 4 Our authour had produced ſo many plays in the pre- | | ceding years, that it is not likely that King Henry VIII. was written before 1601. It might perhaps with equal | | propriety be aſcribed to 1602, and it is not eaſy to deter- mine in which of thoſe years it was compoſed; but it is extremely probable that it was written in one of them. It was not printed till 1623. N 1 GS | A poem, called the Lite and Death of Thomas Wol- | | ſey, Cardinal, which was entered on the books of the | Stationers? company, and publiſhed, in the year 1599, perhaps ſuggeſted this ſubje& to Shakſpeare. | | He had alſo certainly read Churchyard's Legend of = | Cardinal Wolſey, printed in The Mirroar for Magiſtrates, | 157. ret ot . c Have OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 337 re Have we ſome ſtrange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women ſo beſiege us, ſays the Porter in the laſt act of this play. This note of time may per- haps hereafter ſerve to aſcertain the date of this piece, though 1 cannot avail myſelf of it, not having been able to diſcover to what circumſtance Shakſpeare here alludes. | A play entitled The Life and Death of Lord Cromwell, was publiſhed at London in 1602. In the title-page it is ſaid to be written byW. S. ; letters which undoubredly were inſerted to deceive the reader, and to induce him to ſuppoſe that the piece was written by Shakſpeare, as a kind of ſequel to his Henry VIII. This circumſtance may ſerve in ſome meaſure to confirm my conjecture that King Henry VIII. had been exhibited in the preceding year- Rowley's King Henry VIII. was publithed in 1605, pro- bably with a view that it alſo might be confounded with Shakſpeare's drama; and both it and Lord Cromwell were re-printed with the ſame fraudulent intention in 1613, in which year our authour's play was revived with great ſplendour, The Globe play-houſe, we are told by the continuator of Stowe's Chronicle, was burnt down, on St. Peter's day, in the year 1613, while the play of K. Henry VIII. was exhibiting. Sir Henry Wotton, (as Mr. Tyrwhitt has obſerved,) ſays in one of his letters, that this accident happened during the exhibition of a zew play, called Al. 7s True; which, however, appears both from Sir Henry's minute deſcription of the piece, and from the account given by Stowe's continuator, to have been our authour's play of K. Heary VIII. If indeed Sir H. Wotton was accurate in calling it a zew play, all the foregoing rea- ſoning on this ſubje& would be at once overthrown ; and this piece, inſtead of being aſcribed to 1601, ſhould have been placed twelve years later. But I ftrongly ſuſpect that the only novelty attending this play, in the year 1613, was its title, decorations, and perhaps the pro- logue and epilogue. The Elector Palatine was in London in that year; and it appears from the ML, regiſter of Vol. I. L* lord . . a n ry * 7 2 —_— — 2 n 2 1 n „ title of Cæſar s Tragedy. 338 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER lord Harrington, treaſurer of the chambers to K. James J. that many of our authour's plays were then exhibited for the entertainment of him and the princeſs Elizabeth. By the ſame regiſter we learn, that the titles of many of them were changed in that year. Princes are fond of opportunities to diſplay their magnificence before ſtran- gers of diſtinction; and James, who on his arrival here muſt have been dazzled by a ſplendour foreign to the poverty of his native kingdom, might have been peculi- arly ambitious to exhibit before his ſon-1n-law the mimick pomp of an Engliſh coronation *. K. Henry VIII. therefore, after having lain by for ſome years unacted, on account of the coſtlineſs of the exhibition, might have been revived in 1613, under the title of All is True, with new decorations, and a new prologue and epilogne. Mr. Tyrwhitt obſerves, that the prologue has two or three direct references to this title; a circumſtance which au- thorizes us to conclude, almoſt with certainty, that it was an occaſional production, written ſome years after the compoſition of the play. King Henry VIII. not being then printed, the fallacy of calling it a new play on its revival was not eaſily detected. Dr. Johnſon long ſince ſuſpected, from the contemptu- ous manner in which zhe noiſe of targets, and the felloau in à long motley coat, or, in other words, moſt of our authour's plays, are ſpoken of, in this prologue, that it was not the compoſition of Shakſpeare, but written after his departure from the ſtage, on ſome accidental revival 7 Thus, Henry IV. P. I. was called Hotſpur; Henry IF. P. II. or The Merry Wives of Windſor, was exhibited under the name of Sir Mos Falftaff'; Much: ado about Nothing was new-named Benedick and eatrix, and Fulius Cæſar ſeems to have been repreſented under the 8 The Prince Palatine was not preſent at the repreſentation of K. Henry VIIT. on the 3oth of- June O. S. when the, Globe play- houſe was burnt down, having left England ſome time before, But the play might have been revived for his entertainment in the begin- ning of the year 1613 ; and might have been occafionally: repreſented afterwards, | | | : | . 3 of * +% q OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS, 33g [ of King Henry VIII. by Ben Jonſon, whoſe ſtyle, it ſeem- | 1 ed to him to reſemble®, Dr, Farmer is of the ſame i | 1 55 opinion, 1 9 In ſupport of this conjecture it „ Jonſon has in many places endeavoured to ridicule, our authour for repreſent- ; ing battles on the ſtage. So, in his prologue to Every Man in bis, | Humour: my 1 4H „ 6 et ours, for want, hath not ſo lov'd the ſtage, # cc As he dare ſerve the / cuſtoms of the age k « Or purchaſe your delight at ſuch a rate « As, for it, he himſelf muſt juſtly hate; & To make, &c. (> eres i 45 5 cc or with three ruſty ſwords,, , ö And help of ſome few foot-and-half-foot words, « Fight over York and Lancaſter's long jars, p « And in the tyring bouſe bring wounds to ſcars.” Again, in his Silent Woman, AQ IV. ſc. iu. « Nay, I would fit out a play, that were nothing but fights at ſea, drum, trumpet, and target. De x | 4 | We are told in the memoirs of Ben Jonſon's life, that he went to * France in the year 1613. But at the time of the revival of King Henry VIII. he either had not left England, or was then returned; for he was a ſpectator of the fire which happened at the Globe theatre during the repreſentation of that piece. [See the next note] It may, perhaps, ſeem extraordinary, that he ſhould have preſumed to prefix this covert cenſure of Shakſpeare to one of his own. plays. But he appears to haye eagerly. embraced every opportunity of de- pretiating him. This occaſional prologue (whoever was the Writer of it) confirms the tradition handed down by Rowe, that our authour , retired from the, ſtage ſome years before his death. Had he been at that time joined E Lt Burbage in the management of the , Globe theatre, he ſcarcely weuld have ſuffered the lines above alluded to, to have been ſpoken. In lord Harrington's account of the money diſburſed for the plays, that were exhibited by his majeſty's ſervants, in., the year 1613, before the Elector Palatinę, all the payments are, ſaid , to have been made to © Fobn Heminge, for himſelf and the reſt of his fellows ;** from which we may conclude hat he was then the principal. manager. A correſpondent, however, of Sir Thomas Puckering's, (as I learn from Mr. Tyrwhitt) in a MC. letter, preſerved in the Muſeum, . and dated in the year 1613, calls the company at the Globe, „Beur- bage's company. —Shakſpeare's name ſtands before either of theſe, in the licence granted by K. James; and had he not left London before that time, the players at the Globe theatre, Limagine,. would. rather have been entitled, his company. — The burleſque parody on the , account of, Falſtaff*s death, which is contained in Fletcher's comedy of the Captain, acted in 1613, and the ridicule of Hamlet's celebrated 1 ſoliloguy, — — — - 340 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER opinion, and thinks he ſees ſomething of Jonſon's hand, here and there, in the dialogue alſo. After our authour's retirement to the country, Jonſon was perhaps employed to give a novelty to the piece by a new title and pro- logue, and to furniſn the managers of the Globe with a deſcription of the coronation ceremony, .and of thoſe other decorations, with which, from his connection with Inigo Jones, and his attendance at court, he was peculi- arly converſant. | 4s . The piece appears to have been revived with ſome degree of ſplendour; for Sir Henry Wotton gives a very pompous account of the repreſentation. The unlucky accident that happened to the houſe during the exhibi- tion, was occaſioned by diſcharging ſome ſmall pieces, called chambers, on King Henry's arrival at cardinal Wolſey's gate at Whitehall, one of which, being inju- diciouſly managed, ſet fire to the thatched roof of the theatre. | ; | | | The ſoliloquy, and of Ophelia's death, in his Scornful Lady, which was repreſented about the ſame time, confirm the tradition that our authour had then retired from the ſtage, careleſs of the fate of his writings, inattentive to the illiberal attacks of his contemporaries, and negligent _ alike of preſent and poſthumous fame. Since the above note was written, I have feen the mortgage which is printed in a preceding page, and was executed by Shakſpeare in March 1612-13. From this deed we find that he was in London in that year : he might, however, have parted with his property in the theatre before. | ae | - 1 The Globe theatre (as I learn from the Mſs. of Mr. Oldys) was thatched with reeds, and had an open area in its center. This area we may ſuppoſe to have been filled by the loweſt part of the audience, whom Shakſpeare calls the groundlings.—-Chambers are not, like other guns, pointed horizontally, but are diſcharged as they ſtand ere on their breeches. The accident may, therefore, be eaſily accounted for. If theſe pieces were let off behind the ſcenes, the paper or wadding with which their charges were conſined, would reach the thatch on the in- ſide; or if fixed without the walls, it might have been carried by the wind to the top of the roof. | This accident is alluded to, in the following lines of Ben Jonſon's E xecration upon Vulcan, from which it appears, that he was at the Globe playhouſe when it was burnt; a circumſtance which in ſome meaſure ſtrengthens the conjecture that he was employed on the revival FF ED *\ of OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS, 341 The play, thus revived and new-named, was probably called, in the bills of that time, a new play; whic might have led Sir Henry Wotton to deſcribe it as ſuch. And thus his account may be reconciled with that of the other contemporary writers, as well as with thoſe argu- ments which have been here urged in ſupport of the early | date of King Henry VIII. Every thing has been fully ſtated on each ſide of the queſtion. 'The reader muſt 1 judge. | Mr. Roderick in his notes on our authour, (appended to Mr, Edwards's Canons of Criticiſm, ) takes notice of ſome peculiarities in the metre of the play before us; VIZ. ** that there are many more verſes in it than in any | other, which end with a redundant ſyllable,” “e very near two lo one, — and that ** the ce/ure or pauſes of the ALLE ww ma art oo Ab > WIS Re tm 7 — — — - =. — ———_— 1 — <> n= _ — of King Henry VIII. for this was not the theatre at which his pieces were ulually repreſented: | | 1 «« Well fare the wiſe men yet on the Bank- ſide, | — * « My friends, the watermen ! they could provide | « Againſt thy fury, when, to ſerve their needs, ; « They made a Vulcan of a ſheaf of reeds; «© Whom they durſt handle in their holy-day coats, 1 « And ſafely truſt to dreſs, not burn, their boats. 3 «© But O thoſe reeds! thy mere diſdain of them | I c Made thee beget that cruel ſtratagem, | « (Which ſome are pleas'd to ſtyle but thy mad prank, ) I 4 Apainſt the Globe, the glory of the Bank: <6 Which, though it were the fort of the whole pariſh, « Flank'd with a ditch, and forc'd out of a mariſh, « T ſaw with two poor chambers taken in, | «6 And raz'd ; ere thought could urge this might have been tc See the world's ruins J nothing but the piles Left, and-wit ſince to cover it with tiles. 66 The breth'rea, they ſtraight nois'd it out for news, « *Twas verily ſome relick of the ſtews, cc And this a ſparkle of that fire let looſe, «© That was lock'd up in the Wincheſtrian gooſe, 4 Bred on the Bank in time of popery, cc When Venus there maintain'd her myſtery, « But others fell, with that conceit, by the ears, « And cried, it was a threat'ning to the bears, 4% And that accurſed ground, the Paris-garden,” &c. [T3] _— — — —— ———— — —- 342 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER verſe are full as remarkable.” The redundancy, &c. obſerved by this critick, Mr. Steevens thinks (a re- mark, which, having omitted to introduce in its pro- per place, he defires me to inſert here,) “ was rather the effect of chance, than of deſign in the authour ; and might have ariſen either from the negligence of Shakſpeare, who in this play has borrowed whole ſcenes and ſpeeches from Holinſhed, whoſe words he was probably in too much haſte to compreſs into verſification ſtrictly regular and harmonious ; or from the interpolations of Ben Jonſon, 'whoſe hand Dr. Farmer thinks" he occaſionally perceives in the dia- * lonye:”” Whether Mr. Roderick's poſition be well founded, is hardly worth a conteſt ; but the peculiarities which he has animadverted on, (if ſuch there be) add probability to the conjecture that this piece underwent ſome altera- tions, after it had paſſed out of the hands of Shak- ſpeare. 5 Sn OY 23. TRoILUS AND CRESSIDA, 1602. Troilus and Creſſida was entered at Stationers? hall, Feb. 7, 1602-3, under the title of The booke of Troilus and Creſſida, by J. Roberts, the printer of Hamlet, Thy Merchant of Venice, and 4 Midjummer-Night's Dream. It was therefore, probably, written in 1602. It was printed in 1609, with the title of The Hiftory of Troylus and Creſſida, with a preface by the editor, who ſpeaks of it as if it had not been then ated. But it is entered in 1602-3, ag acted by my Lord Chamberlen's men.” The players at the Globe theatre, to which Shakſpeare belonged, were called rhe Lord Chamberlain's ſervants, till the year 1603. In that year they obtained a licence for their exhibitions from king James; and from that time they bore the more honourable appellation of 15 majefty's ſervants: | There can, therefore, be little doubt, that the Troilus and Creffida which is here en- tered, as acted at Shakſpeare's theatre, was his play, : os | and OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 343 and was, if not repreſented, intended to have been repreſented there *. | | Perhaps the two diſcordant accounts, relative to this piece, may be thus reconciled. It might have been per- formed in 1602 at court, by the lord chamberlain's ſer- vants, (as many plays at that time were, ) and yet not have been exhibited on the publick ſtage till ſome years | afterwards. The editor in 1609 only ſays, ** it had never been ſtaled with the Hage, never clapperclaw'd with the palms of the vulgar.” | | As a further proof of the early appearance of Troilus and Creſſida, it may be obſerved, that an incident in it ſeems to be burleſqued in a comedy entitled Hiſtriomaſtiæ, which, though not printed till 1610, muſt have been written before the death of queen Elizabeth, who, ip the laſt act of the piece, is ſhadowed under the character of Aſtræa, and is ſpoken of as then living. In our authour's play, when Troilus and Creſſida part, he gives her his ſleeve, and ſhe, in return, preſents him with her glove. | Io this circumſtance theſe lines in Hifriomaſtix ſeem to refer. They are ſpoken by Troilus and Creſſida, who are e der in an interlude: Toi. Come, Creſſida, my creſſet light, | „Thy face doth ſhine both day and night. cc Behold, behold, % garter blue « Thy knight his valiant-elbow aueares, 6 That, when he ſhakes his furious ſpeare, 6e The foe in ſhivering fearful ſort May lay him down in death to ſnort. Cre], © O knight, with valour in thy face, Here take my ſtreene, weare it for grace; „ Within thy helmet put the ſame, «© 'Therewith to make thy enemies lame.“ 2 No other play with this title has come down to us. We have therefore a right to conclude that the play entered in the books of t he Stationers company, was Shakſpeare s. [Y 4] 8 344 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER In Much ado about nothing Troilus is mentioned as the firſt employer of pandars.“ Shakſpeare, therefore, probably had read Chaucer's poem before the year 1600, when that play was printed. | In Cymbeline it is ſaid, that « Therſites? body is as good as Ajax”, © When neither are alive.“ This ſeems to import a precedent knowledge of Ajax and Therſites, and in this light may be regarded as a preſumptive proof that Troilus and Crefida was written before Cymbeline, Boe: | Dryden ſuppoſed Troilus and Crefjida to have been one of Shakſpeare's earlieſt performances; but has not mentioned on what principles he founded his judgment. Pope, on the other hand, thought it one of his laſt; grounding his opinion not only on the preface by the editor in 1609, ny on * the great number of obſerva- tions both moral and political with which this piece is crowded, more than any other of our authour's.“ For my own part, were it not for the entry in the Stationers? books, 1 ſhould have been led, both by the colour of the writing and by the above-mentioned preface, to claſs it (though not one of our authour's happieſt effuſions) in 1608, rather than in that year in which it is here placed. 24. MEeasuURE FOR MrasuRE, 1603. This play was not regiſtered at Stationers' hall, nor rinted, till 1623. But from two paſſages in it, which ſeem intended as a courtly apology for the ſtately and ungracious demeanour of King James I. on his entry into England, it appears probable that it was written not long after his acceſſion to the throne : 3 c The tragedy which I have undertaken to correct, was in all probability, one of his frf#t endeawours on the ſtage. —Shakſpeare (as I hinted) in the wg ans of bis writing modelled it | the ſtory of Lollius] into that play which is now called by the name of Troilus and Creſſida. - Dryden's pref, to Troilus and Crefſidas ET : Pte l AT « PN OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 345 « Pl privily away. I love the people, «© But do not like to ſtage me to their eyes. Though it do well, I do not reliſh well 4 Their loud applauſe, and aves vehement; «© Nor do I think the man of ſafe diſcretion That does affect it.” Mea/. for Meaſ. Act I. ſc. i. Again, Act II. ſc. iv. | cc | — — 80 : | The general, ſubje& to a well-wiſh'd king, © Quit their own part, and in obſequious fondneſs * Croud to his prefence, where their untaught love << Muſt needs appear offence “.“ tr King James was /o much offended by the untaught, and, we may add, undeſerved, gratulations of his ſubjects, on his entry into England, that he iſſued a proclamation, forbidding the people to reſort to him.—** Afterwards,” ſays the hiſtorian of his reign, ** 1n his publick appear- ances, eſpecially in his ſports, the acceſles of the people made him ſo impatient, that he often diſperſed them with frowns, that we may not ſay with car/es 5. | It is obſervable throughout our authour's plays, that he does not ſcruple to introduce Engliſh ſigns, habits, cuſ- toms, names, &c. though the ſcene of his drama lies in a foreign country ; and that he has frequent alluſions to the circumſtances of the day, though the events which form the ſubje& of his piece are ſuppoſed to have hap- pened a thouſand years before. Thus, in Coriolanus, Hob and Dic4 are plebeians; and the Romans toſs their caps in the air, with the ſame expreſſion of feſtivity which our poet's contemporaries diſplayed in Stratford or London. In Tavelfth Night we hear of the bed of Ware, and the bells of Saint Bennet; and in The Taming of the Shrew the Pega/us, a ſign of a publick houſe in Cheapſide in the time of Queen Elizabeth, is hung up in a town in 4 See Mr, Tyrwhitt's note. 8 Wilſon's Hi. of K. James, ad ann. 1603. Italy. 346 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Italy. In Hamlet the Prince of Denmark and Guilden- ſtern hold a long converſation concerning the children of the Chapel and St. Pauls'. The opening of the preſent play, viewed in this light, furniſhes an additional argu- ment in ſupport of the date which I have aſſigned to it. When King James came to the throne of England, March 24, 1602-3, he found the kingdom engaged in a war with Spain, which had laſted near twenty years. Hea- ven grant us his peace!“ ſays a gentleman to Lucio, Akt I. ſc. ii.; and We the bawd laments, that „ what with e war, what with the ſweat, ſhe was cuſtom-ſhrunk.*”” Suppoſing theſe two paſſages to relate to our authour's own time, they almoſt deciſively prove Meaſure for Meaſure to have been written in 1603; when the war was not yet ended, as the latter words ſeem to imply, and when there was ſome proſpe of peace, as the former ſeem to intimate. Our Britith Solomon very ſoon after his acceſſion to the throne manifeſted his pacifick diſpoſition, though the peace with Spain was not pro- claimed till the 19th of Auguſt, 1604. By the faveat, conſidering who the ſpeaker is, it is probable that the diſorder moſt fatal to thoſe of her pro- feſſion was intended. However, the plague was ſome- times ſo called; and perhaps the dreadful peſtilence of 1603 was meant; which carried off in the month of July in that year 857 perſons, and in the whole year 30,578 perſons : that is, one fifth part of the people in the me- tropolis; the total number of the inhabitants of London being at that time about one hundred and fifty thouſand. If ſuch was the alluſion, it likewiſe confirms the date attributed to this play. | | Some part of this laſt argument in confirmation of the date which I had aſſigned ſome years ago to the comedy before us, I owe to Mr. Capell; and while 1 acknowledge the obligation, it 1s but juſt to add, that it is the only one that I mer with, which in the ſmalleſt degree could throw any light on the preſent inquiry into the dates of dur authour's plays, 5 « In the dry deſert of ten thouſand lines; 14 5 N after OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 347 after wading through two ponderous volumes in quarto, written in a ſtyle manifeſtly formed on that of the Clown in the comedy under our conſideration, whoſe narratives, we are told, were calculated to laſt out a night in Ruffa, avhen nights are at the longeſt. In the year 1604, ſays Wilſon the hiftorian, „ the ſword and buckler trade being out of date, diverſe ſects of vitious perſons, under the title of roaring boys, brawa- does, royſters, &c. commit many inſolencies; the ſtreets ſwarm night and day with quarrels: private duels are fomented, eſpecially between the Engliſh and Scotch: and great feuds between proteſtants and papiſts.? A proclamation was publiſhed to reſtrain theſe enormities; which proving ineffectual, the legiſlature interpoſed, and the act commonly called the ſtatute of ſtabbing, 1 ſac. I. c. 8. was made. This ſtatute, as Sir Michael Forſter obſerves, was principally intended to put a ſtop to the outrages above enumerated, committed by perſons of inflammable ſpirits and deep reſentment, who, wearing ſhort daggers under their cloaths, were too well prepared to do quick and effectual execution upon provocations extremely ſlight.” King James's firſt parliament met on the 19th of March, 1603-4, and ſat till the 7th of July following. From the time of James's acceſſion to the throne great animoſity ſubſiſted between the Engliſh and Scotch; and many of the outrageous acts which gave riſe to the ftatute of ſtabbing, had been committed in the preceding year, about the end of which year I ſuppole Meaſure for Meajure to have been written. The enumeration made by the Clown, in the fourth act, of the perſons who were confined with him in the prifon, is an additional confirmation of the date aſſigned to it. Of ten priſoners whom he names, four are ſtabbers, or duelliſts: * Maſter Starve-lacky, the rapier and dagger man, young Drop-heir that Kill'd luſty Pudding, Maiter Forth-right, the tilter, and wild Half-can that ET. . | That Meaſure for Meaſure was written before 1607, may be fairly concluded from the following paſſage in a 4.6 4 1 7 * , { * 1 L136 4 7% iP, F N : 4 1 1 #; | 1 — <- —— — — — — — — — —— — — — 2 of m—_— gee bY, = — — * . I a6. 1s ” , - m4 4 * 2 — 1 - - I” = — ——_—_ : > 2+ E 2 3 2 — — * * 6 "£3 2. = 2 - 2 2 * - - - 7 — — 85 2 * — „ ++ * — 1 2 1 < * - C 5 * * LA Wy .- 82 4, - 22 , 2 o ** 1 _— - m_ Y D r 2 * 4 PR - * * , EXX Ez * 4s. a 1. — 4 — . 2 A — - . ] . — * * - * - 22 > - = — ” — _ W 2 - — * gn mz 1 A” 5 r — — — — — — NT : _ a 0 bo . —— 343 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Poem publiſhed in that year, which we have good ground to believe was copied from a ſimilar thought in this play, as the authour, at the end of his piece, profeſſes a per- ſonal regard for Shakſpeare, and highly praiſes his Venus and Adonis * 4 So play the fooliſh hHrongs with one that /avoors ; «© Come all to he/p him, and ſo ſtop the air «© By which he ſhould revive.” Meaſ. for Meaſ. Act II. ſc. iv. „And like as when ſome ſudden extaſie « Seizeth the nature of a ſicklie man; h «© When he's diſcern'd to fwourne, ftraite by and by Folke to his he/pe confuſedly have ran; 4 And ſeeking with their art to fetch him backe, «© So many zhrerxg, that he the ayre doth lacke.”” Myrrha, the Mother of Adonis, or Luſte's Prodigies, by William Barkſted, a poem, 1607. 25. The WinTER's TaLE, 1604. Greene's Doraftus and Fawnia, from which the plot of this play was taken, was publiſhed in 1588. | The Winter's Tale was not entered on the Stationers? books, nor printed till 1623, It was acted at court in 16135, | : | 4 See the verſes alluded to, ante, p. 251, n. 4. This writer does not ſeem to have been very ſcrupulous about adopting either the thoughts or expreſſions of his contemporaries; for in his poem are Found two lines taken verbatim from Marſton's Inſatiate Counteſs, printed four years before Myrrba the Mother of Adonis, &c. c Night, like a maſque, was enter'd heaven's great hall, « With thouſand torches uſhering the way.” It appears from Ben Jonſon's Silent Woman, that W. Barkſted was an actor, and was employed in the theatre where our authour's plays were repreſented, He might therefore have performed a part in Mea- ſure for Meaſure,. or have ſeen the copy before it was printed. 5 Mſ. of the late Mr. Vertue.— The Tempeſt was repreſented at the ſame time before the king. Hence probably they were both ridiculed by Ben Jonſon in his Bartbolomewo Fair, acted in the following Fo | N OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 349 In the firſt edition of this eſſay I ſuppoſed The Winter*s Tale to have been written in 1594. ; an errour (as it now appears to me) into which I was led by an entry in the Stationers? regiſters dated May 22, in that year, of a piece entitled 4 Winter-Night's Paſtime, which I ima- gined might have been this play under another ,name, the titles of our authour's plays having been ſometimes changed S. | | The opinion, however, which I gave on this ſubject, was by no means a decided one. I then mentioned that Mr. Walpole thought, that this play was intended by Shakſpeare as an indirect apology for Anne Bullen, in which light it might be conſidered as a Second Part to King Henry VIII.; and that my reſpe& for that very judicious and ingenious writer, the ſilence of Meres, in whoſe catalogue of our authour's dramas publiſhed in 1598 the play before us 1s not found, and the circum- ſtance of there not being a ſingle rhyming couplet throughout this piece, except in the chorus, made me doubt whether it ought not rather to be aſcribed to the year 1601 or 1602, than that in which I then placed it.“ The doubts which I then entertained, a more attentive examination of this play has confirmed; and I am now perſuaded that it was not near fo early a compoſition as the entry above-mentioned led me to ſuppoſe. | Mr. Walpole has obſerved?, that“ The Winter's Tale may be ranked among the hiſtorick plays of Shakſpeare, though not one of his numerous criticks and commenta- tors have diicovered the drift of it. It was certainly intended (in compliment to. Queen Elizabeth) as an indirect apology tor her mother Anne Boleyn. The addrefs of the poet appears no where to more advantage. The ſubject was too delicate to he exhibited on the ſtage without a veil ; and it was too recent, and touched the queen too nearly, for the bard to have ventured ſo home 6 Thus, Hamlet was ſometimes called Hamlet's Revenge, ſometimes The Hiſtory of Hamlet; The Merchant of Venice was ſometimes called | The Few of Venice, &. See p. 338, n. 7. 7 Hiftorick Douòti. | an L 1 * : 1 * 1 e — — "> ERS _ -. * * <7 k Pi „ — * 1 — bs 4 * - — * * — IS „ - - PO = =D — 2 —— —•—ũ— — * mW -Y * — 5 L * — 2 1 « as — ” _ . — * 1 11 — . — — — — - : . -4 - — * ä — - — — ts i. f Wt, = — 11 10 a 1 14 0 . 7 x 1 1 | 28” ! : TIS 7 1 4 1 ; „ n : 1 t : 1 | 4 356% CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER an alluſion on any other ground than compliment. The in conſequence, form a true portrait of Henry the Eighth, who generally made the law the engine of his boiſterous paſhons... Not only the general plan of the ſtory is moſt applicable, but ſeveral paſſages are ſo marked, that they touch the real hiſtory nearer than the fable. Hermiqne on her trial ſays, 3 ß pſor honour, „ Tis a derivative from me to mine, „And only that I ſtand for.“ ®F- 3 > L IIS & <0: 448 5d IEEE 35: +45 an At * This ſcems to be taken from the very letter of Anne Boleyn to the king before her execution, when ſhe pleads eee 2 for the infant princeſs, his 98 Mamillius, a young prince, an unneceſſary charaè paſſage, and which had nothing to do in the tragedy, but as it pictured Elizabeth, is, where Paulina deſcrib- ing the new-born princeſs, and her likeneſs to her father, another $44.4 . Fd has 10 EG his frown,” There is entence indeed ſo applic 8 * * after, ber death. Paulina, ſpeaking of the child, tells the king, . „% Tis youre. * And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, « So like you, tis the worſe.“ This conjecture muſt, I think, be acknowledged to be extremely plaufible. With reſpe&, however, to the death of the young prince Mamillius, which is ſuppoſed to allude to Queen Anne's haying had a ſtill- born ſon, it is but fair to obſerve, that this circumſtance was not an invention of our poet, being founded on a ſimilar inci- dent in Lodge's Doraftus and Fawnia, in which Garan- ter, the Mamillius of The Hinter's Tale, likewiſe dies in his infancy, But this by no means diminyhes the _ : = | F unreaſonable jealouſy of Leontes, and his violent conduct anne er, dies in his infancy; but it confirms the alluſion, as queen Anne, before Elizabeth, had a ſtill-born ſon. But the moſt ſtriking er ſentence indeed io applicable, both to Elizabeth and her father, that I ſhould ſuſpe& the poet inſerted it nnn * OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 357 ef the hypotheſis which has been juſt now ſtated; it only ſhews, that Shakſpeare was not under the neceſſity of twiſting the ſtory to his purpoſe, and that this as well as the many other correſponding circumſtances” between the fictitious narrative of Bellaria, (the Hermione'of the pre- ſent play) and the real hiſtory of the mother of Elizabeth, | al moſt forced the ſubje& upon him. . % | Sir William Blackſtone has pointed out a paſſage in the firſt act of this play, which had eſcaped my ob- ſervation, and which, as he juſtly obſerves, furniſhes a proof that it was not written till after the death of queen Elizabeth: c 85 6 If I could find example 1 000 Of thouſands, that had ſtruck anointed kings, « And flouriſh'd after, I'd not do it; but ſince Nor braſs, nor ſtone, nor parchment, bears not one, Let villainy itſelf forfarar itt. + 'Thefe lines could never have been intended for the ear of her who had deprived the queen of Scots of her life. To the fon of Mary-they could not- but have been agreeable. „„ oe) 5 If we ſuppoſe with Mr. Walpole that this play was intended as a compliment to Queen Elizabeth, it ought rather to be attributed to the year 1602, than that in which I have placed it: but the paſſage laſt quoted is inconſiſtent with ſuch a date. Mr. Walpole himſelf alſo has quoted ſome lines, which he thinks could not have been inſerted till after the death of Elizabeth. Perhaps our authour lay'd the ſcheme of the play in the very year in which the queen died, and -finiſhed- it in the next. This is the only ſuppoſition that J know of, by which theſe diſcordancies can be reconciled. I have therefore arte f. mp l ù jj | In that year was entered on the Stationers* books A ſtrange reporte of a monftrous fiſb, that appeared in the form of a woman from her waiſt upward, ſeene in the ſea.“ To this perhaps the poet alludes, when he makes An- tolycus produce a ballad “ Of a #/ that appeared _ the 1 my 112 1 ' N N i * F 4 g : 1 - uw 14 . 77 : : p : 0 i | ry $$, . * : 2 „ 1 je N * 8 * * : A : 4 N b q . : i 1 : 'S. 4 , \ j 9 Rr | 1 * ö * = * * — —— vow LT — — — * * te ů T—„-— — — —D = N 8 —— — WT SF 3 3 — << of * 352 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER the coaſt, on Wedneſday the fourſcore of April, forty thouſand fathom above water, and ſung this ballad againſt the hard hearts of maids : it was thought, He aas a abo- man, and was turn'd into a cold fiſn, &c. There is, ſays one of the characters in this piece, “ but one Puritan among them, and he ſings pſalms to horn- pipes. The preciſe manners of the puritans was at this time much ridiculed by proteſtants ; and the principal matters in diſpute between them (whether the ſurplice ſhould be uſed in the celebration of divine ſervice, the croſs in baptiſm, and the ring in marriage,) were gravely diſcuſſed at Hampton Court before the king, who ated as moderator, in the beginning of the year 1604. The points diſcuſſed on that occaſion were, without doubt, very popular topicks at that time; and every ſtroke at the Puritans, for whom King James had a hearty deteſta- tion, muſt have been very agreeable to him as well as to the frequenters of the theatre, againſt which that ſect in- veighed in the bittereſt terms. Shakſpeare, from vari- ous paſſages in his plays, ſeems to have entirely coincided in opinion with his majeſty, on this ſubject. The metre of The Winter's Tale appears to me leſs eaſy and flowing. than many other, of. our poet's dramas; and the phraſeology throughout to be more involved and parenthetical than any other of his plays. In this harſh- neſs of dition and involution of ſentences it ſtrongly reſembles Troilus and Creſſida, and King Henry the Eighth, which I ſuppoſe to have been written not long before. 26, KINO Laax, 1605. The tragedy of King Lear was entered on the books of the Stationers' company, Nov. 26, 1607, and is there mentioned to have been played the preceding Chriſtmas, before his majeſty at Whitehall. But this, J conjecture, was not its firſt exhibition. It ſeems extremely probable that its firſt appearance was in March or April 1605; in which year the old play of King Leir, that had been entered at Stationers* hall in 1594, was printed by Simon * r TORTS Ry OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 353 Simon Stafford, for John Wright, who, we may preſume, finding Shakſpeare's play ſucceſsful, hoped to palm the ſpurious one on the publick for his *. The old King Leir was entered on the Stationers* books, May 8, 1605, as it was lately ated. | „ HFarſnet's Declaration of Popiſh . from which Shakſpeare borrowed ſome fantaſtick names of ſpirits, mentioned in this play, was printed in 1603. Our au- thour's King Lear was not publiſhed till 1608. This play is aſcertained to have been written after the month of October, 1604, by a minute change which Shakſpeare made in a traditional line, put into the mouth of Edgar: c His word was ſtill, —Fie, foh, fum, «« I ſmell the blood of a Britiſßi man.“ The old metrical ſaying, which is found in one of Naſhe's pamphlets, printed in 1596, and in other books, »Was, 20 ce Fy, „ 6“ ſmell the blood of an Engliſhman.” 5 Though a complete union of England and Scotland, which was projected in the firſt parliament that met after ames's acceſſion to the Engliſh throne, was not carried into effect till a century afterwards, the two kingdoms were united in name, and he was proclaimed king of Great Britain, October 24, 1604. | 8 Shakſpeare has copied one of the paſſages in this old play. This he might have done, though we ſhould ſuppoſe it not to have been pub- liſhed till after his King Lear was written and acted ; for the old play had been in poſſeſſion of the ſtage for many years before 1605; and without doubt he had often ſeen it exhibited ; nor could he have found any difficulty in procuring a manuſcript copy of it, when he ſat down to write his own tragedy on the ſame ſubject. I ſuſpect, however, the old play had been publiſhed in 1594» 22 7 4 — — - "— * - — * — 2 * —— — — — » 3 *, — F 5 * of Se — 4 — —_— 7; N ON — — — — R 354 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER | 27. CyYMBELINE, 1605, Cymbeline was not entered in the Stationers? books nor printed till 1623. It ſtands the laſt play in the earlieſt folio. edition; but nothing can be collected from thence, for the folio editors manifeſtly pay'd no attention to chrono- logical arrangement. Nor was this negligence peculiar to them: for in the folio collection of D*Avenant's works printed after his death, Albovine, king of the Lombards, one of his earlieſt plays, which had been publiſhed in quarto, in 1629, is placed at the end of the volume. I have found in Cymbeline little internal evidence by which its date might be aſcertained. ' Such evidence, however, as it furniſhes, induces me to aſcribe it to 1605, after Shakſpeare had compoled King Lear, and before he had written Macbeth. The character of Edgar in King Lear is undoubtedly formed on that of Leonatus, the legitimate ſon of the blind king of Paphlagonia, in Sydney's Arcadia. Shakſpeare having occaſion to turn to that book while he was writing King Lear, the name of Leonatus adhered to his memory, and he has made it the name of one of the characters in Cymbeline. The ſtory of Lear lies 'near to that of Cymbeline in Holinſhed's Chronicle; and ſome account of Duncan and Macbeth is given incidentally in a ſubſequent page, not very diſtant from that gue of the volume which is allotted to the hiſtory of thoſe Britiſh kings. In Holinſhed's Scottiſh Chronicle we find a ſtory of one Hay, a huſbandman, who, with his two ſons, placed himſelf athwart a lane, and by this means ſtayed his flying countrymen ; which turned the battle againſt the Danes. This circumſtance, (which our poet has availed himſelf of in the fifth a& of the play before us,) connected with what has been already mentioned relative to Sydney's Arcadia, renders it pro- bable that the three plays of King Lear, Cymbeline, and Macbeth, were written about the ſame period of time, and in the order in which I have placed them. The hiſtory of King Duff, Duncan, and Macbeth, which Shakſpeare appears to have diligently read, 1 | rom OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 358 from p. 150 of Holinſhed's Scortiſb Chronicle to p. 176 and the ſtory of Hay occurs in p. 154 of the ſame Chronicle. | . Mr. Steevens has obſerved, that there is a paſſage in B. and Fletcher's Philafter, which bears a ſtrong reſem- blance to a ſpeech of Jachimo in Cymbeline : J hear the tread of people: I am hurt; «« The Gods take part againſt me: could this boor * Have held me thus, elſe?” Philafter, Act IV. ſe. i. 85 —— | have bely'd a lady, «© The princeſs of this country; and the air oft *© Revengingly enfrebles me; or could this carle, A very drudge of natures, haue ſubdued me In my profeſſion f*? Cymbeline, Act V. ſc. ii. Philafter had appeared on the ſtage before 1611, being mentioned by John Davies of Hereford, in his Ep:igrams, which have no date, but were publiſhed according to Oldys, in or about that year®, Dryden mentions a tradition, (which he might have received from Sir Wil- liam D*Avenant,) that Philaſter was the firſt play by which Beaumont and Fletcher acquired reputation, and that they had written two or three leſs ſucceſsful pieces, before Philafter appeared. From a prologue of D'Ave- nant's their firſt production ſhould ſeem to have been exhibited about the year 1605, Philaſter, therefore, it may be preſumed, was repreſented in 1608 or 1609. One edition of the tract called Weftavard for Smelts, from which part of the fable of Cymbeline is borrowed, was publiſhed in 1603. . In this play mention is made of Cæſar's 1immeaſure. able ambition, and Cleopatra's ſailing on the Cydnus to meet Antony; from which, and other circumſtances, I think it probable that about this time Shakſpeare peruſed the lives of Cæſar, Brutus, and Mark Antony. 9 Additions to Langbaine's Account of the Dramatick Poets, ML. 1 28. Mac- 356 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER 28. MAcBETEH, 1606. Guthrie aſſerts in his Hiſtory of Scotland, that king James, to prove how thoroughly he was emancipated from the tutelage of his clergy, deſired Queen Elizabeth in the year 1599 to ſend him a company of Engliſh comedians. She complied, and James gave them a li- cence to act in his capital and in his court. I have great reaſon to think, (adds the hiftorian,) that the im- mortal Shakſpeare was of the number. But his drama, which finds acceſs at this day to the moſt inſenſible hearts, had no charms in the eyes of the preſbyterian clergy. They threatened excommunication to all who attended the play-houſe. Many forebore to attend the theatrical exhibitions. James conſidered the inſolent interpoſition of the clergy as a freſh attack upon his pre- rogative, and ordered thoſe who had been moſt active, to retract their menaces, which they unwillingly did; and we are told that the playhouſe was then greatly crowded.” | I know not to what degree of credit this anecdote is entitled; but it is certain, that James after his ac- ceſſion to the Engliſh throne, was a great encourager of theatrical exhibitions. From 1604 to 1608 he devoted himſelf entirely to hunting, maſques, plays, tiltings, &c. In 1605 he viſited Oxford, From a book entitled Rex Platonicus, eited by Dr. Farmer, we learn, that on enter- ing the city the king was addreſſed by three ſtudents of St. John's college, who alternately accoſted his ma- jeſty, reciting ſome Latin verſes, founded on the pre- diction of the weird fifters relative to Banquo and Macbeth 2. | AL | | Dr. Farmer is of opinion, that this performance pre- ceded Shakſpeare's play; a ſuppoſition which is ſtrength- 1 If the writer had any ground for this aſſertion, why was it not ſtated ? It is extremely improbable that Shakſpeare ſhould have left London at this period. In 1599 his King Henry V. was produced, and without doubt acted with great applauſe. 2 See Vol. IV. p. 437. : | | ene OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 357 ened by the ſilence of the authour of Rex Platonicus, who, if Macbeth had then appeared on the ſtage, would proba- bly have mentioned ſomething of it. It ſhould be like- wiſe remembered, that there ſubſiſted at that time, a ſpirit of oppoſition and rivalſhip between the regular players and the academicks of the two univerſities ; the latter of whom frequently acted plays both in Latin and Engliſh, and ſeem to have piqued themſelves on the ſuperiority of their exhtbitions to thoſe of the eſtabliſhed theatres3, Wiſhing probably to manifeſt this ſuperiority to the royal pedant, it 1s not likely that they would chooſe for a collegiate interlude, (if this little perform- ance deſerves that name,) a ſubject which had already appeared on the publick ſtage, with all the embel- liſnments that the magick hand of Shakſpeare could beſtow. _ 1 og In the following July (1606) the king of Denmark came to England on a viſit to his ſiſter, queen Anne, and on the 3d of Auguſt was inſtalled a knight of the garter, «© There is nothing to be heard at court,“ (ſays Drum- mond of Hawthornden in a letter dated that day,) but ſounding of trumpets, hautboys, muſick, revellings, and comedies.” Perhaps during this vifit Macbeth was firſt exhibited. | This tragedy contains an alluſion to the union of the three kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland, under one ſovereign, and allo to the cure of the king's-evil b the royal touch . A ritual for the healing of that dif. temper was eſtabliſhed early in this reign; but in what 3 Ab ejuſdem collegii alumnis (qui et cothurno tragico et ſocco comigo principes ſemper habebantur) Yertumnus, comadia faceta, ad priacipes exhilarandos exhibetur. Rex Platonicus, p. 78. | Arcadiam reſtauratam Iſiacorum Arcadum lectiſſimi cecinerunt, unoque opere, principum omniumque ſpectantium animos immenſa et ultra fidem affecerunt voluptate; ſimulgue patrios ludiones, etſi exerci- tatiſſimos, quantum interſit inter ſcenam mercenariam & eruditam docue- runt. Ib. p. 228. See alſo the Return from Parnaſſus, (Act IV. ſc. iii.) which was acted publickly at St. John's college Ia Cambridge. 4 Macbetb, Act IV. ſc. i. ii. ; 231 . _ our 9 22 * — A 4 —ä— ou - nc. wt ee - — — — — — — —— — — 7 — — - —_—— = a i . — —-—-—-¼— * - Y +... 4 WA | | | | i" N 2 4 = — ot A. — — — — ” 6 — 6 5 — p "* — . — —ę— — en — * p * -_ 7. 4 : — 9 2 a > . are — = — — — 2 ny x © ————— 2 — * — FIG Eien. — this tragedy 358 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER year that pretended power was aſſumed by king James I. is uncertain. Macbeth was not entered in the Stationers? books, nor rune, till 1623. In The Tragedy of Cæſar and Pompey, or Ce ſar's Re. wenge, are theſe lines: « Why, think you, lords, that *tis ambition's 8 That pricheth Cæſar to theſt high attempts!“ If the authour of that play, which was ubliſhed in 1607, ſhopld be thought to have had Macbeth” 's ſoliloquy in view, (which is not unlikely,) this circumſtance may add ſome 7 ee of probability to the ſuppoſition that ad appeared before that year; cc I have no /pur | 4 TO anick the ſides of my intent, but only « Vaulting ambition, which o 'er-leaps itſelf, « And falls at the other At the time when Macð is ſuppoſed to have been written, the ſubje&, it is probable, was conſidered as a topick the moſt likely to conciliate the fayour of the court, In the additions to Warner's Albion's England, which were firſt printed in 1606, the ſtory of the Three Fairies or Wiird Elves,” as he calls them, is ſhortly told, and king James's deſcent from Banquo carefully deduced. Ben Jonſon, a few years afterwards, paid his court to his majeſty by his Maſque of Queens, preſented at White- hall, Feb. 12, 1609 ; in which he has given a minute detail of all the magick rites that are recorded by king James in his book of Demonologie, or by any other authour ancient or modern. S Mr, Upton was of opinion that this maſque preceded Macbetb. But the only ground which he ſtates: for this conjecture, is, that Jon- ſon's pride would not ſuffer him to borrow from Shakſpeare, though Mr. he ſtole from the a ancients.” OF SHARKSPEARE'Ss PLAYS. 359 Mr. Steevens has lately diſcovered a Ml. play, entitled Fas Wirk, written by Thomas Middleton ©, which renders it queſtionable, whether Shakſpeare was not in- debted to that authour for the firſt hint of the magick introduced in this tragedy. The reader will find an account of this ſingular curioſity in the note. To the N 5 8 obſervations 6 In an advertiſement prefixed to an edition of A Mad World my Maſters, a comedy by Thomas Middleton, 1640, the printer ſays, that the authour was „ /ong ſince dead. Middleton probably died ſoon after tne year 1626. He was chronologer to the city of London, and it does not appear that any maſque or pageant, in honour of the Lord Mayor, was ſet forth by him after that year“. From the dates of his printed plays, and from the enſuing verſes on his laſt performance, by Sir William Lower, we may conclude, that he was as early a writer, and at leaſt as old, as Shakſpeare: | | e Tom Middleton his numerous iſſue brings, « And his laſt muſe delights us when ſhe ſings: « His halting age a pleaſure doth impart,. c And his white locks ſhew maſter of his art.“ | The following dramatick pieces by Middleton appear to have been publiſhed in his life-time. Your Five Gallants, no date-—Blurt Ma- fter Conſtable, or the Spaniard's Night-Walk, 1602. — Michaelmas Term, 1607.—The Phenix, 1607. —T be Family of Love, 1608. — 4 Trick to catch the Old One, 1608. Mad World my Maſters, 1608. The Roaring Girly: or Mall Cutpurſe, I611.m-Fair Quarrel, 1617.—4 Chaſte Maid of Cbeapſide, 1620. A Game at Cbeſſe, 162 5. —Moſt of his other plays were printed, about thirty years after his death, by rege and other bookſellers, into whoſe hands his manuſcripts el 2 OS. | ; 7 In a former note on this tragedy, I have ſaid that the original edition contains only the two firſt words of the ſong in the 4th act, beginning—Black ſpirits, &c; but have lately diſcovered the entire ſtanza in an unpubliſped dramatick piece, viz. A Tragi-Coomodie called TE Wirren; long fnce ated by his Ma. ties Servants at the Black Friers; written by TBo. Middleton.” The ſong is there called A charme-ſong, about a veſſell. The other ſong omitted in the 5th ſcene of the zd act of Macbeth, together with the imperfect cou- plet there, may likewiſe be found, as follows, in Middleton 's perform ance.— The Hecate of Shakſpeare, ſays; EIN, 66 I am for the air, &&. ; *. The Triumph of Health and Bobo at the Tnouguration of the moſt worthy Brother, the Right Hon. Cuthbert Hoſket, draper ; compoſed 5y Thomas Middleton, draper, 1626, 4to; | | 12 41 The ADE TE MPR . W — 2 = pom 0 * _ ; — 2 * * * — 2 — — — - , i: : 2 * r — = . = — — > 3 — 5 _ ; — — — ch * — 5 — — . = * W ö E 1 k — — 1 — _ 2 - — . — — — — — — — . A = a = * 5 2 — - 2 - , ms. = - * —_— 9 . * . E * ; , - - — — — * — — — — K " —ü—ę—ä— — oY OO OOO oo — — - ft pet < — — — — —U — A we _ w * — — „ * ” I * — 7 — — — —_ — — — — — — by * — — — — — SI” — — 0 — 2 - * — — — — — wi 3 | — ee - — — — — — — — —— — —' —— —F4[Gw | ro... — ũ . —ͤ e (ͤĩů— — 366% CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER obſervations of Mr. Steevens I have only to add, that the ſongs, beginning, Come away, &c. and Black ſpirits, &c. being The Hecate of Middleton (who like the er is ſummoned away by aerial ſpirits) has the ſame declaration in Fo the ſame words: « I am 657 aloft,” &c. ce Jon Come away, come away: a 1 & Heccat, Heccat, come away. 7 is the eire. cc Hec. I come, I come, I come, «© With all the ſpeed I may, c“ With all the ſpeed I may. ec Wher's Stadlin? “Heere. ] in the aire. % Wher's Puckle? | 10 rt. in the aire. © | „ And Hoppo too, and Hellewaine too. We lack but you, we lack but you 5 in the aire. «© Come away, make up the count. ce Hec. I wilt but noynt, and then I mount. 5 A fpirit like a There's one comes downe to fetch hisdues, . def elcends. J A kiſſe a coll, a fip of blood: | | "ea cents. And why thou ſtaiſt ſo long above. 4 muſe, 1 muſe, « Since the air's ſo ſweet and good. te Hec. Oh, art thou come? 4 What newes, what newes ? & All goes ftill to our delight, c Either come, or els Eb above. Refufe, refuſe. ; «& Her. Now I am furniſh'd for the flight. 4c Fire.] Hark, hark, the catt ſings a brave treble in her owne language. 80 Her. geing 12. Now I goe, now I flie, | « Malkin, my ſweete ſpirit, and I. & Oh what a daintie pleaſure tis, cc To ride in the aire, EA c When the moone ſhines faire, ce And fing, and daunce, and toy and kiſs ! cc Over woods, high rocks and mountains, 4 Over ſeas, our miſtris* fountains, £ Over ſteepe towres and turrets, 7 « We fly by night *mongſt-troopes of ſpiritts. « No ring of bells to our eares ſounds, | © No howles of woolves, no yelpes of hounds ; 4 No, not the noyſe of waters*-breache, 44 Or cannons? throat, our height can reache. 66 No ring of bells, &c. ] above, « Fire. a a 1 as. 8 1 "a. a_— 1 $ * I — — —y— — — — — — 2 FX Sz Ee Z (= _ ——— — 22 — 9 — = — ws —— — — OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 361 being found at full length in The Witch, while only the | two firſt words of them are printed in Macbeth, favour | | | the ce Fire.] Well, mother, I thank your kindneſs: you muſt be gam- bolling i' th'aire, and leave me to walk here, like a foole and a mor- tall. Exit. Fins Aus Tercii." This Fire-flone, who occaſionally interpoſes in the courſe of the dia- logue, is called, in the liſt of Perſons Repreſented, The Clown and Heccat's ſon.” 17 : Again, the Hecate of Shakſpeare ſays to her ſiſters : cc I' charm the air to give a ſound, „„ While you perform your antique round, &c. ef 206 3 [Mufick. The Witches dance and waniſh.” The Hecate of Middleton ſays on a fimilar occaſion : Come, my ſweete ſiſters, let the aire ſtrike our tune, « Whilſt we ſhew reverence to yond peeping moone.“ | Here they dance and Exeunt.” = — % 2 * — — _ JJ — In this play, the motives which incline the witches to miſchief, their manners, the contents of their cauldron, &c. ſeem to have more than accidental reſemblance to the ſame particulars in Macbetb. The hags of Middleton, like the weird ſiſters of Shakſpeare, deſtroy cattle becauſe they have been refuſed proviſions at farm-houſes. The owl and the cat (Gray Malkin) give them notice when it is time to pro- ceed on their ſeveral expeditions. Thus Shakſpeare's Witch: | « Harper cries ;—'tis time, *tis time. Thus too the Hecate of Middleton: 6 Hec.] Heard you the owle yet? « Stad.] Briefely in the copps. « Hec.] *Tis high time for us then.“ The Hecate of Sbakſpeare, addreſſing her ſiſters, obſerves, that Macbeth is but 4 wayward ſon, who loves for his own ends, not for them. The Hecate of Middleton has the ſame obſervation, when the youth who has been conſulting her, retires: | « know he loves me not, nor there's no hope on't.“ | Inſtead of the greaſe. that's ſweaten from the murderer's gibbet, and the finger of birth-ſtrangled babe, the witches of Middleton employ i the griſtle of a man that bangs after ſunſet, (i. e. of a murderer, for all other criminals were-anciently cut down before evening) and the “e fat of an unbaptized child.“ They likewiſe boaſt of the power to raiſe tempeſts that ſhall blow down trees, overthrow buildings, and occaſion ſhipwreck ; and, more particularly, that they can © make miles of wood: walk.“ Here too the Grecian Hecate is degraded into a preſiding witch, and exerciſed in ſuperſtitions peculiar to our own country. So much for the ſcenes of enehantment; but even other parts of Middle- 25 ton : - * —— — — 7 * - = ” — - — Lo * 7 _ — * „ mere * _ + — — — — — — ——— — —— — ——— — — U — ow 2 * a — _ — — — _m - A > ” _ — — —— —u— —— ͥ — 3s : — x 1 362 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER the Loppofition that Middleton's piece preceded that of Shakſpeare; the latter, it ſhould ſeem, thinking ir | unneceſſary ton's play coincide more than once with that of Shakſpeare. Lady Macbeth ſays, in Act II: © f the ſurfeited grooms | 6 Do mock their charge with ſnores. I have drugg'd their poſſets.” | | | 80 too Franciſce in the piece of Middleton: | | they're now all at reſt, | «© And Gaſper there and all: Liſt !—faft aſſeepe; He cryes it hither. —I muſt diſeaſe you ſtraight, ſir: cc For the maide-ſervants, and the girles o' th* houſe, «© I /pic'd them lately with a dremſie poſſet, 66 They will not hear in haſte.“ And Franciſca, like lady Macbeth, is watching late at night to encou - rage the perpetration of a murder. . The expreſſion which Shakſpeare has put into the mouth of Mac- beth, when he is ſufficiently recollected to perceive that the dagger and the blood on it, were the creations of his own fancy, —“ There's no ſuch thing, —is likewiſe appropriated to Fraxciſca, when ſhe unde- ceives her brother, whoſe imagination had been equally abuſed, From the inſtances already produced, perhaps the reader wonld al- tow, that if Middleton's piece preceded Shakſpeare's, the originality of the magic introduced by the latter, might be fairly queſtioned ; for our authour (who as actor, and manager, had acceſs to unpubliſhed dramatick performances) has ſo often condeſcended to receive hints from his contemporaries, that our ſuſpicion of his having been a copyiſt in the preſent inſtance, might not be without foundation. Nay, per- haps, a time may arrive, in which it will become evident from books and manuſcripts yet undiſcovered and unexamined, that Shakſpeare never attempted a play on any argument, till the effect of the ſame ſtory, or at leaſt the ruling incidents in it, had been already tried on the ſtage, and familiarized to his audience. Let it be remembered, in ſupport of this conjecture, that dramatick pieces on the following ſubjets, viz, King John, King Richard II. and III. King Henry IV. and V. King Henry VIII. King Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, Meaſure for Meaſure, the Merchant of Venice, the Taming of a Shrew, and tbe Comedy of Errors, — had appeared before thoſe of Shakſpeare, and that he has taken ſome what from all of them that we have bitherto ſeen. I muſt obſerve at the ſame time, that Middleton; in his other dramas, is found to have borrowed little from the ſentiments, and nothing from the fables of his predeceſſors. He is known to have written in concert with Jonſon, Fletcher, Maſſinger, and Rozoley; but appears to have daen unacquainted, or at leaſt unconnected, with Sbakſpearce. : 7 | t - OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 363 unneceſſary to fet down verſes which were probably well known, and perhaps then in the poſſeſſion of the managers It is true that the date of Tu Wire cannot be aſcertained. The authour, however, in his dedication (za the truelie-wworthie and generouſiy- affected Thomas Holmes Eſquire) obſerves, that he recovered this en ee er labour of his (from the play-houſe, I ſuppoſe,) not without much difficultie. Witches (continues he) are, ipſo facto, by the laav condemn'd, and that onely, I thinck, hath made ber lie ſo long in an impriſon'd obſcuritie. It is probable, therefore from theſe words, as well as from the title-page, that the play was written long“ before the dedication, which ſeems to have been added ſoon after the year 1603, waen the act of King James againſt witches paſſed into a law. If it be objected, that TRE Wi ren appears from this title-page to have been acted only by his majeſty's ſervants, let it be remembered that theſe were the very players who had been before in the ſervice of the Queen; but Middleton, dedicating his work in the time of James, ſpeaks of them only as dependants on tlie reigning prince. Here too it may be remarked, that the firſt dramatic piece in which Miduleton is known to have had a hand, viz. The Od Law, was acted in 1599; ſo that TER Wirren might have been compoſed, if not performed at an earlier period + than the acceſſion of James to the crown ; for the belief of witchcraft was ſufficiently popular in the preceding reigns. The piece in queſtion might likewiſe have been neglected through the caprice of players, or retarded till it could be known that James would permit ſuch repreſentations; (for on his arrival here, both, authours and actors who ſhould have ventured to bring the midnight mirth and jollity of witches on the ſtage, would probably have been indicted as favourers of magick and enchantment ;) or, it might have ſhrunk into obſcurity after the appearance of Mac- beth ; or perhaps was forbidden by the command of the king. The witches of Shakſpcare (excluſive of the flattering circumſtance to which * That dramatick. pieces were ſometimes written long before they were printed, may be proved from the example of Marlowe's Rich Few of Malta, which was entered on the books of the Stationers' company in the year 1594, but was not publiſhed till 1633, as we learn from l for olive, &c. the preface to it written by Heyood. It appears likewiſe from the ſame regiſters, that ſeveral plays were written, that were never pub- liſhed at all. | 88 + The ſpelling in the Mſ. is ſometimes more antiquated than any to be met with in the printed copies of Shakſpeare, as the following inſtances may prove :—ZByn for been— ſollempnely for ſolemnly—=damp- nation for damnation—quight for quite griæxgel for griſtle. doa for doe their 4 : 'E BF f , 11 A vi ſ 2 =8 364 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER managers of the Globe theatre. The high reputation of Shakſpeare's performances (to mention a circumſtance which in the courſe of theſe obſervations will be more than once inſiſted upon) likewiſe ſtrengthens this con- jecture; for it is very improbable, that Middleton, or any other poet of that time, ſhould have ventured into their prophecy alludes) are ſolemn in their operations, and therefore behaved in conformity to his majeſty's own opinions. On the con- trary, the hags of Middleton are ludicrous in their conduct, and leſſen, by ridiculous combinations of images, the ſolemnity of that magick in which our ſcepter'd perſecutor of old women moſt reverently and po- tently believed. | The concluſion to Middleton's dedication has likewiſe a degree of fingularity that deſerves notice. —* For your ſake alone, ſhe hath thus conjur'd her ſelf abroad; and beares no other charmes about her, but what may tend to your recreation; nor no other ſpell, but to poſſeſs you with a beleif, that as ſhe, ſo he, that fr taught her to enchant, will alwaies be, &c.—* He that taught her to enchant,” would have ſufficiently expreſſed the obvious meaning of the writer, without aid from the word firſt, which ſeems to imply a covert cen- ſure on ſome perſon who had engaged his Hecate in a ſecondary courſe of witchcraft. | | | - The reader muſt have inferred from the ſpecimen of incantation already given, that this Mſ. play (which was purchaſed by Major Pearſon out of the collection of one Grifzn, a player, and is in all pro- babillity the preſentation copy) had indubitably paſſed through the hands of Sir William D' Avenant ; for almoſt all the additions which he pretends to have made to the ſcenes of witchcraft in Macterh 8 with the names of the ſupplemental agents) are adopted rom Middleton. It was not the intereſt therefore of Sir Villian, that this piece ſhould ever ar in print: but time that makes important diſcoveries, has Aikewiſe brought his petty plagiariſm to light “. I ſhould remark, that Sir V. D. has corrupted ſeveral words as well as proper names in the ſongs, &c. but it were needleſs to particularize his miſtakes, as this entire tragi-comedy will hereafter be publiſhed for the ſatisfaction of the curious and intelligent readers of Shakſpeare. | STEEVENSs * Sir William D'Avenant might likewiſe have formed his play of Albovine King of Lombardy on ſome of the tragick ſcenes in this un- | Publiſhed piece by Middleton. Yet the chief circumſtances on which they are both founded, occur in the fourth volume of the Hifleires Tra- gigues, c. par Franęois de Belle-foreft, 1580, p. 297, and at the beginning of Machiavel's Florentine Hiſtory. SrEEVERS. thole F OI © RE TE 2 OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 365 thoſe regions of fiction, in which our authour had already expatiated : | «© — Shakſpeare's magick could not copy'd be, « Within that circle none durſt walk but he.“ Other pieces of equal antiquity may, perhaps, be here- after diſcovered ; for the names of feveral ancient plays are preſerved, which are not known to have been ever printed. Thus we hear of Valentine and Orſon, plaied by her Majeſties players, — The tragedy of Ninus and Semiramis,—T itirus and Galathea, - Godfrey of Bulloigne, —T he Cradle of Securitie, Hit the Naile o'the Head, Sir Thomas More,—-(Hart. Mſ. 7368) The 1/le of Dogs, by Thomas Naſhe,—The comedy of Fidele and Fortuna- zus,—The famous tragedy of The Deſtruction of Feruſalem, by Dr. Legge, —The Freeman's Honour, by William Smith, —Mahomet and Irene, the Faire Greek, —T he Play of the Cards, —Cardenio,—T he Knaves,—The Knot of Fools, — Raymond Duke of Lyons, —T he Nobleman, by Cyril Tourneur,—ſ the laſt five, acted in the year 1613,] The honoured Lowes, —T he Parliament of Love, —and Nonſuch, a comedy; all by William Rowley ;—The Pilgrimage 70 Parnaſſus, by the authour of the Return from Parnaſſus, — Believe as you Lift, by Maflinger, —The Pirate, by Davenport, — Neſania or Lowe's Victory, a comedy by Shirley, (ſome of whoſe plays were extant in Mſ. in Langbaine's time,)—T he Twins, a tragedy, acted in 1613,—Tancredo, a tragedy, by Sir Henry Wotton, — Demetrius and Marſina, or the imperial Impoſtor and un- happy Heroine, a tragedy, —The Tyrant, a tragedy,— The Queen of Corfica,—T he Bugbears,—T he Second Maid”s Tragedy, — Timon, a comedy,—Cariline's Conſpiracy, a tragedy,—and Captain Mario, a comedy; both by Ste- phen Goſſon,—T he True Hiftorie of George Scanderbeg, as played by the right hon. the Earl of Oxenforde's ſer- vants,—Fane Shore,—T he Bold Beauchamps,—T he Setond Part of Sir John Oldcaſtle,—T he General,—T he Toy,— The Tell- tales, a comedy,—The Woman's Plot, —The Woman's 9 The perſons repreſented in this play (which is in my poſſeſſion) are—Duke; Fidelio; Aſpero; Hortenſio; Borgias; Picentio; Count Giſmond; 7 Dr RAN RS op. 366 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Woman's too hard for Him, [both acted at court in 1621.) Ahe Lowe-fick Maid, ¶acted at court in 1629] —Fulgius and Lucrelle,—T he Fool Transformed, a comedy,—T he Hiftory of Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, a tragi- comedy,—T he Chaſte woman againſt her Will, a comedy, mT he Tooth-Drawer, a comedy, — Honour in the End, a comedy,—The Hiſtory of Don Quixote, or the Knight of the ill. fauoured Countenance, a comedy, —T he Fair Spaniſh Captive, a tragi-comedy,—The tragedy of Heildebrand, Lowe yields to honour, — The Noble Friend, &c. &c, Soon after the Reſtoration, one Kirkman, a bookſeller, printed many dramatick pieces that had remained un- publiſhed for more than ſixty years; and in an advertiſe- ment ſubjoined to A true, perfect, and exact catalogue of all the comedies, tragedies, c. that were ever yet printed and publiſhed, till this preſent year 1671,” he ſays, that although there were, at that time, but eight hun- dred and fix plays in print, yet many more had been written and acted, and that he himſelf had /ome quan- tity in manuſcript. — The reſemblance between Macbeth and this newly diſcovered piece by Middleton, naturally ſuggeſts a wiſh, that if any of the unpubliſhed plays, above enumerated, be yet in being, (beſide The Second Maid”s tragedy, The Tell-tale, Timon, and Sir Thomas More, which are known to be extant,) their poſſeſſors would condeſcend to examine them with attention; as hence, perhaps, new lights might be thrown on others of our authour's plays. It has been already ſuggeſted that it is probable our authour about the time of his compoling Cymbeline and Macbeth devoted ſome part of his leiſure to the reading of the lives of Cæſar and Anthony in North's tranſlation of Plutarch. In the play before. there are two paſſages which countenance that conjecture. Under him,“ ſays Macbeth, | 4% My genius is rebuk'd, as, it is ſaid, « Mark Antony's was by Cæſar.“ Giſmond ; Ferneſe; Bentivoglio; Coſmo; julio; captain; Lieu- tenant; Ancient; two Doctors; an Ambaſſador; Victoria; Eleanor; Iiabelz Leſbia.— Scene, Florence. 1 The F VWF - * 0 { 1 | 0 —: c 8 OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 357 The alluſion here is to a paſſage in the Life of Antony; where Shakſpeare alſo found an account of the inſane root that takes the reaſon priſoner,“ which he has in- troduced in Macbeth, | A paſſage in the 8th book of Daniel's Civil Wars ſeems to have been formed on one in this tragedy 9. The ſeventh and eighth books of Daniel's poem were firſt printed in r609, | | 29. Julius CEz$SAR, 1607. A tragedy on the ſubject, and with the title, of Falius Cæſar, written by Mr. William Alexander, who was afterwards earl of Sterline, was printed in the year 1607. This, I imagine, was prior to ourauthour's performance, which was notentered at Stationers-hall, nor printed, till 1623. Shakſpeare, we know, formed at leaſt twelve plays on fables that had been unſucceſsfully managed by other poets“; but no contemporary writer was daring enough to enter the liſts with him, in his life-time, or to model into a drama a ſubject which had already em- ployed his pen: and it 1s not likely that Lord Sterline, who was then a very young man, and had ſcarcely un- learned the Scottiſh idiom, ſhould have been more hardy than any other poet of that age. I' am aware, it may be objected, that this writer might have formed a drama on this ſtory, not knowing that Shakſpeare had previouſly compoſed the tragedy of | + ay Cæſar; and that, therefore, the publication of r. Alexander's play in 1607, is no proof that our au- thour's performance did not then exiſt. —In anſwer to this objection, it may, perhaps, be ſufficient to obſerve, that Mr. Alexander had, before that year, very wiſely left the bleak fields of Menftrie in Clackmananſhire, for a warmer and more courtly reſidence in London, having 9 See Vol. IV. p. 299, n. 4. : I See a note on Julias Cæſar, AQ I. ſc, i. in which they are enu- merated. been 368 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER been appointed gentleman of the privy chamber to prince Henry: in which fituation his literary curioſity muſt have been gratified by the earlieſt notice of the produc. tions of his brother dramatiſts. | Lord Sterline's Julius Cæſar, though not printed till 1607, might have been written a year or two before; and perhaps its publication in that year was in conſe- quence of ,our authour's play on the ſame ſubje& being then firſt exhibited. 'The ſame obſervation may be made with reſpect to an anonymous performance, called The Tragedie of Cæſar and Pempey, or Cæſar's Revenge*, of which an edition (I believe the ſecond) was likewiſe printed in 1607. The ſubject of that piece is the defeat of Pompey at Pharſalia, the death of Julius, and the final overthrow of Brutus and Caſſius at Philippi. The attention of the town being, perhaps, drawn to the hiſtory of the hook-noſed fellow of Rome, by the exhibition of Shak- ſpeare's Julius Cæſar, the bookſellers, who printed theſe two plays, might have flattered themſelves with the hope of an expeditious ſale for them at that time, eſpecially as Shakſpeare's play was not then publiſhed. It does not appear that Lord Sterline's Julius Cſar was ever acted: neither it nor his other plays being at all calculated for dramatick exhibition. On the other hand, Shakſpeare's Julius Cz/ar was a very popular piece; as we learn from Digges, a contemporary writer, who in his commendatory verſes prefixed to our authour's works, has alluded to it as one of his moſt celebrated per- formances3, | 5 We 2 There is an edition without date, which probably was the firſt. This play, as appears by the title-page, was privately acted by the ſtudents of Trinity College in Oxford. In the running title it is called The Tragedy of Julius Cæſar; perhaps the better to impoſe it on the publick for the performance of Shakſpeare. = 3 : 3 „Nor fire nor cank'ring age, as Naſo ſaid « Of his, thy wit-fraught book ſhall once invade: c Nor ſhall I e'er believe or think thee dead, h &« (Though miſs'd) untill our bankrout ſtage be ſped « (Impoflible !) with ſome new ſtrain, t'out do « Paſſions of Juliet and her Romeo; ; ps « Or — . . ASA. Sh en OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 369 We have certain proof that Antony and Cleopatra was compoſed before the middle of the year 1608. An attentive review of that play and Julius Cæſar, will, I think, lead us to conclude that this latter was firſt writ- ten . Not to inſiſt on the chronology of the ſtory, which would naturally ſuggeſt this ſubje& to our authour before the other, in Fulius Cæſar Shakſpeare does not ſeem to have been thoroughly poſſeſſed of Antony's character. He has indeed marked one or two of the ſtriking features of it, but Antony is not fully delineated till he appears in that play which takes its name from him and Cleo- patra. The rough ſketch would naturally precede the finiſhed picture. = - an —_— * — ns . 5 — — — - == — — — 3 —— —— j m _ — — > — < — i OW — — + — -_ — <- —ͤ—ñ—f — + — "Cz — = 8 = — r —————— — — 2 22 i — — —— 7 _— — — : — ——— — — — — a — - * * — 2 - — - _ my — _— — — — 9 g 0 5 & * „ * 20 2 — — - mer —— er - W=} — — — 4 5 « Or till J hear a ſcene more nobly take t «« Than when thy balf-ſword parlying Romans ſpale.“ Verſes by L. Digges, prefixed to the firſt edition of our authour's plays, in 1623. | | 3 The following paſſages in Antony and Cleopatra, (and others of the ſame kind may perhaps be found, ) ſeem to me to diſcover ſuch a know- ledge of the appropriated characters of the perſons exhibited in Julius Cæſar, and of the events there dilated and enlarged upon, as Shak- ſpeare would neceſſarily have acquired from having previouſly written a play on that ſubject ; | | « Pompey.— I do not know ¾ ¾ꝰ «© Wherefore my father ſhould revengers want, 46 Having a ſon and friends, ſince Julius Ceſar, 6M ho at Philippi the goed Brutus gbaſted, & There ſaw you labouring for him. What was't, «© That mov'd pale Caſſius to conſpire? And what © Made all- bonour d, honeſt, Roman Brutus, i 6c With the arm'd reſt, courtiers of beauteous freedom, 6c To drench the capitol, but that they would i & Have one man but a man?” $o, in another place: « When Antony found Julius Cæſar dead, « He cry'd almoſt to roaring ; and he wept, « When at Philippi he found Brutus ſlain.” Again: 7 « Ant. He at Philippi kept cc His ſword ev'n like a dancer, while I ſtruck «© The lean and wrinkled Caſſius; and *twas I «© That the mad Brutus ended. Vor. I. — Shakſpeare? By r * — 2 58 Rs hag * — _ — - — — 1 o l 1 1 ' ' [ . : i : + Þ ' 1 + [ : F N 1 1 $ , 4 — 1 5 F Lo 18 * 4 : A 4 5 1 - $4 * * i 77 % i +. c : : Ao 1 A 0 N . ? + N iy i, : ' 1343 | - 9 234 F F 1 xx * , % i 1 | : ” * 0 3 * 93 4 C: FS [ : £ 1 9 * ö | - Ll : : . « =: ä 1 , # 3 . N 5 wy 4 : 7 ug : ow 4 * 24 . 14 | ii 44 ' : 4 148 * 70 4 = — ——̃— — — — 2 * — 2 — — — — — I IO RE — P = == — - "I IS — — N . - — — — — — — — — — äZLÜœ—f— — — * — - = — — = = — _ —— —— — —— — — — — (——Ä— —— — — 2 — — ——— Is —ͤ—6—ä —t — ———ũ——h—ä—— —— — — — ———— — — — — — — — — — — —U—ñ— — cjä—ä— — — — — . —— — cate" mu et em —— — —ů :D2]h ——— — —ͤ—üU U— —ẽ— for introducing a quibble ; but it is not eaſy to conjec- 370, CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER Shakſpeare's making the capito/ the ſcene of Czfar's murder, contrary to the truth of hiſtory, is eaſily ac- counted for, in Hamlet, where it afforded an opportunity ture why in Julius Cæſar he ſhould have departed from Plutarch, where it is expreſsly ſaid that Julius was killed in Pompey's portico, whoſe ſtatue was placed in the centre. I ſuſpect he was led into this deviation from hiſtory by ſome former play on the ſubject, the frequent repetition of which before his own play was written probably induced him to inſert theſe lines in his tragedy : 4 A @ Ka „ 1 TE “ How many ages hence % Shall this our Iofty ſcene be a&ed o'er, In ſtates unborn, and accents yet unknown! << How many times, &c. ec The accents yet unknown” could not allude to Dr, Eedes's Latin play exhibited in 1582, and therefore may be fairly urged as a preſumptive proof that there had been ſome Engliſh play on this ſubject previous to that of Shakſpeare. Hence I ſuppoſe it was, that in his earlier t performance he makes Polonius 55 that in his youth he fi had enacted the part of the Roman Dictator, and had been killed by Brutus in the capitol; a ſcenick exhibition which was then probably familiar to the greater part of the audience. | | From a paſſage in the comedy of Every Woman in her humour, which was printed in 1609, we learn, that there - B ky A & by Was an ancient droll or puppet-ſhew on the ſubject of ulius Cæſar. I have ſeen (ſays one of the perſonages in that comedy,) the city of Nineveh and Julius Cx/ar acted by mammets.“ I formerly ſuppoſed that this droll was formed on the play before us: but have lately ob- ſerved that it is mentioned with other ** motions,” (Jonas, Ninevie, and the Deſtruction of Jeruſalem,) in Kos Marſton's Dutch Courte/an, printed in 1605, and was Cl probably of a much older date, | | | nt. | „ + . Fort 2" Mn 5 ha, — Gita Rt — — AE es „2 oe oe EE OE TEEN r : OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 371 In the prologue to The Falſe One, by Beaumont and Fletcher, this play is alluded to“; but in what year that tragedy was written, 1s unknown. If the date of The Maid”s Tragedy by the ſame authours, were aſcertained, it might throw ſome light on the pre- ſent inquiry; the quarreling ſcene between Melantius and his friend, being manifeſtly copied from a ſimilar ſcene in Julius Cz/ar, It has already been obſerved that Philafter was the firſt play which brought Beaumont and Fletcher into reputation, and that it probably was re- preſented in 1608 or 1609. We may therefore preſume that the Maid's Tragedy did not appear before that year; for we cannot ſuppoſe it to have been one of the unſuc- ceſsful pieces which preceded Philafter. That the Maid”s Tragedy was written before 1611, is aſcertained by a Mſ. | play, now extant, entitled The SECOND Maid”s N which was licenſed by Sir George Buck, on the ziſt of October, 1611, I believe it never was printed 5. | If, therefore, we fix the date of the original Maid”s Tragedy in 1610, it agrees ſufficiently well with that here aſſigned to Julius Cæſar. . It appears by the papers of the late Mr. George Vertue, that a play called Cæſar's Tragedy was acted at court be- fore the 1oth of April, in the year 1613. This was — — s — — — — — — —ů — — " — — — m = — - -_ — —_— P94 o - — _ — — — . — — — — ö f 1 ; T5 itt 2 : * 14 ö f ll Py 2 p : i: IF! 1 1 * 4 „ New titles warrant not a play for new, cc The ſubject being old; and 'tis as true, & Freſh and neat matter may with eaſe be fram'd c Out of their ſtories that have oft been nam'd « With glory on the ſtage. What borrows he c From him that wrought old Priam's tragedy, ; c That writes his love for Hecuba? Sure to tell £ « Of Cæſar's amorous heats, and howy be fell & 1n the Capitol, can never be the ſame „„To the judicious.” Prologue to The Falſe One. S This tragedy (as I learn from a Mf. of Mr. Oldys) was formerly in the poſſeſſion of John Warburton, Eſq. Somerſet Herald, and is now in the library of the Marquis of Lanſdown. It had no authour's name to it, when it was licenſed, but was afterwards afcribed to George Chapman, whoſe name is eraſed by another hand, and that of Shak- ſpeare inſerted, | [A a 1 probably — — — — ——ü—ͤ —— — —mà4 — — 372 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER probably Shakſpeare's Julius Cz/ar, it being much the faſhion at that time to alter the titles of his plays. 30. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, 1608. Antony and Cleopatra was entered on the Stationers? books, May 2, 1608; but was not printed till 1623. In Ben Jonſon's Silent Woman, Act IV. ſc. iv. 1609, this play ſeems to be alluded to: 1 Mor eſe. Nay, I would fit out a play that were no- thing but Fights at /ea, drum, trumpet and target.“ 31. TiMoN or Arkzxs, 1609. 32. CokloL AN us, 1610. Theſe two plays were neither entered in the books of the Stationers? company, nor printed, till 1623. Shakſpeare, in the courſe of ſomewhat more than twenty years, having produced thirty- four or thirty-five dramas, we may pre- ſume that he was not idle any one year of that time. Moſt of his other plays have been attributed, on plauſible grounds at leaſt, to former years. As we have no proof to aſcertain when the two plays under our conſideration were written, it ſeems reaſonable to aſcribe them to that period, to which we are not led by any particular cir- cumſtance to attribute any other of his works; at which, it is ſuppoſed, he had not ceaſed to write ; which yet, unleſs theſe pieces were then compoſed, muſt, for aught that now appears, have been unemployed. When once he had availed himſelf of North's Plutarch, and had thrown any one of the lives into a dramatick form, he robably found it ſo eaſy as to induce him to proceed, till he had exhauſted all the ſubjects which he imagined that book would afford. Hence the four plays of Julius Cæſar, Antony and Cleopatra, Timon, and Coriolanus, are ſuppoſed to have been written in ſucceſſion. At the time he was writing Cymbeline and Macbeth there is reaſon to believe he began to ſtudy Plutarch with a particular View 4 cc ORE E OL I "56 8 3 2. ͤ—ͤd1wmngm RE RT CEOS OF SHAKSPEARF'S PLAYS. 373 view to the uſe he might make of it on the ſtage*. The Lives of Cæſar and Antony are nearly connected with each other, and furniſhed him with the fables of two lays; and in the latter of theſe lives he found the ſub- ject of a third, Timon of Athens. There is a Mſ. comedy now extant, on the ſubject of Timon, which, from the hand-writing and the ſtyle, ap- pears to be of the age of Shakſpeare. In this piece a ſteward is introduced, under the name of Laches, who, like Flavius in that of our authour, endeavours to reſtrain his maſter's profuſion, and faithfully attends him when he is forſaken by all his other followers. —Here too a mock-banquet is given by Timon to his falſe friends; but, inſtead of warm water, ſtones painted like artichokes are ſerved up, which he throws at his gueſts. From a line in Shakſpeare's play, one might be tempted to think x that ſomething. of this ſort was introduced by him though, through the omiſſion of a marginal direction in the only ancient copy of this piece, it has not been cuſtomary to exhibit it: h | c Second Senator, Lord Timon's mad, © 3d. Sen. I feel it on my bones. «& 4th Sen. One day he gives us diamonds, next day ones. | This comedy, (which is evidently the production of a ſcholar, many lines of Greek being introduced into it,) appears to have been written after Ben Jonſon's Every Man out of his Humour, (1599,) to which it contains a reference ; but I have not diſcovered the preciſe time when it was compoſed, If it were aſcertained, it might be ſome guide to us in fixing the date of our authour's Timon of Athens, which, on the grounds that have been already ftated®, I ſuppoſe to have been poſterior to this anonymous play. The great plagues of 1593 and 1603 muſt have made ſach an impreſſion upon Shakſpeare, that no inference ® Sec p. 3555 and p. 366. ria © P. 367. = —_—_— — — 2 1 : / 1Y - . * | | 4 : 1 1 a8 F 3 1 12S 13 = x7 12 | 48! if = £ l : 3 q Iz | 5s N 15 ? | 9 1 55 1s" F i " ad CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER can be ſafely drawn from that dreadful malady being more than once alluded to in Timon of Athens. However, it is pelſible that the following paſſages were ſuggeſted by the more immediate recollection of the plague which raged in 1609. | = * thank them,” ſays Timon, and would ſend them back the plague, could I but catch it for them.“ Again: | «© Be as a planetary plague, when Jove Will o'er ſome high-vic'd city hang his poiſon Ihe fick air.“ : | Cominius, in the panegyrick which he pronounces on Coriolanus, ſays, In the brunt of ſeventeen battles ſince Fe lurch'd all ſwords of the garland.” In Ben Jonſon's Silent Woman, Act V. ſc. laſt, we find (as Mr. Steevens has obſerved) the ſame phraſeology : 4 You have lurch'd your friends of the better half of the garland.” 8 1 I formerly thought this a ſneer at Shakſpeare; but have lately met with nearly the ſame phraſe in a pam- phlet written by Thomas Naſhe, and ſuppoſe it to have been a common phraſe of that time. | This play 1s aſcertained to have been written after the publication of Camden's Remaines, in 1605, by a ſpeech of Menenius in the firſt at, in which he endeavours to convince the ſeditious populace of their unreaſonableneſs by the well-known apologue of the members of the body rebelling againſt the belly. This tale Shakſpeare cer- tainly found in the Life of Coriolanus as tranſlated by North, and in general he has followed it as it 1s there given: but the ſame tale is alſo told of Adrian the | by Camden, in his Remaines, p. 199, under the head of Wi/e Speeches, with more particularity ; and one or two of the expreſſions, as well as the enumeration "a the OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 375 the functions performed by each of the members of the body, appear to have been taken from that book. Ona time,” ſays Menenius in Plutarch, “ all the mem- bers of man's body dyd rebel againſt the bellie, complain- ing of it that it only remained in the mideſt of the bodie without doing any thing, neither dyd bear any labour to the maintenaunce of the reſt: whereas all other partes and members dyd labour paynefully, and was vert care- ful to ſatisfy the appetites and deſiers of the bodie. And ſo the bellie, all this notwithſtanding, laughed at their follie, and ſayde, it is true, I firſt receyve all meates that noriſhe mans bodie; but afterwardes I ſend it againe to the noriſhment of other partes of the ſame, Even ſo (qd. he,) o you, my maſters and citizens of Rome, &c. | In Camden the tale runs thus: All the members of the body conſpired againſt the ſtomach, as againſt the Fwallowing gulfe of all their labours; for whereas zhe cies beheld, the eares heard, the hanades laboured, the feete + travelled, the tongue ſpake, and all partes performed their functions; onely the ſtomache lay ydle and conſumed all. Hereuppon they joyntly agreed al to forbeare their la- bours, and to pine away their lazie and publike enemy, One day paſſed over, the ſecond followed very tedious, but the third day was ſo grievous to them all, that they called a common counſel. The eyes waxed dimme, the feete could not ſupport the body ; the armes waxed lazie, the tongue faltered, and could not lay open the matter. Therefore they all with one accord defired the advice of the heart, There Reaſon layd open before them, &c. So Shakſpeare : * There was a time when all the body's members | Fi © Rebell'd againſt the belly; thus accus'd it ;— 111 «© That only /ike a gulph it did remain | TY In the midſt of the body, idle and unactive, 1.8 „ Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing + Like labour with the reſt; where theotherinftruments «« Did /ze and hear, deviſe, inſtruct, walk, feel, « And mutually participate did miniſter r «« Unto 376 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER «« Unto the appetite and affection common «© Of the whole body. The belly anſwered - « True it is, my incorporate friends, quoth he, 4 'That I receive the general food at firſt ;— 4 —— — Put, if you do remember, J ſend it through the rivers of the blood, «© Even to the court, the heart, to the ſeat 0 the brain. * The heart is called by one of the citizens, the counſellor-heart;“ and in making the counſellor-heart the ſeat of the brain or underſtanding, where Reaſon ſits en- throned, Shakſpeare has certainly followed Camden. | The late date which I have aſſigned to Coriolanus, derives likewiſe ſome ſupport from Volumnia's exhortation to her ſon, whom ſhe adviſes to addreſs the Roman people PP now humble as the -ipe/# mulberry, Which cannot bear the handling.“ | In a preceding page I have obſerved that mulberries were not much known in England before the year 1609, Some few mulberry-trees however had been brought from France and planted before that period, and Shak- ſpeare, we find, had ſeen ſome of the fruit in a ſtate of maturity before he wrote Coriolanus, 33. Or RELIo, 1611. Dr. Warburton thinks that there is in this tragedy a ſatirical alluſion to the inſtitution of the order of Baro- nets, which dignity was created by king James I, in the year 1611: f The hearts of old gave hands, | « But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.“ | Othello, Act III. ſc. iv. „ Amongſt their other prerogatives of honour, (ſays that commentator,) ** they [the new- created baronets] had an addition to their paternal arms, of an hand gules in an eſcutcheon argent. And we are not to doubt but that this was the new heraldry alluded to by our _— ; | Y Zr . ce 44, OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 377 by which he inſinuates, that /ome then created had hands indeed, but not hearts; that is, money to pay for the creation, but no virtue to purchaſe the honour.” Such is the obſervation of this critick, But by what chymiſtry can the ſenſe which he has affixed to this paſ- ſage, be extracted from it? Or is it probable, that Shakſpeare, who has more than once condeſcended to be the encomiaſt of the unworthy founder of the order of Baronets, who had been perſonally honoured by a letrer from his majeſty, and ſubſtantially benefited by the royal licence granted to him and his fellow-comedians, ſhould have been ſo impolitick, as to ſatirize the king, or to | depretiate his new-created dignity ? Theſe lines appear to me to afford an obvious mean- ing, without ſuppoſing them to contain ſuch a multitude of alluſions : Of old, (ſays Othello,) in matrimonial alliances, the heart didtated the union of hands; but our modern junctions are thoſe of hands, not of hearts. On every marriage the arms of the wife are united to thoſe of the huſband. This circumſtance, I believe, it was, that ſuggeſted heraldry, in this place, to our au- thour. I know not whether a heart was ever uſed as an armorial enſign, nor is it, I conceive, neceſſary to in- quire. It was the office of the herald to join, or, to ſpeak technically, to quarter the arms of the new-mar- ried pair 7. Hence, with his uſual licence, Shakſpeare uſes. heraldry for junction, or union in general, Thus, in his Rape of Lucrece, the ſame term is employed to denote that anion of colours which conſtitutes a beatiful com- plexion: 4e This heraldry in Lucrece' face was ſeen, « Argued by beauty's red, and virtue's white.“ This paſſage not affording us any aſſiſtance, we are next to conſider one in The Alchemiſt, by Ben Jonſon, 7 c ] may quarter, coz,” ſays Slender in the Merry Wives of Wind- ſore © You may (replies juſtice Shallow) by marrying.” _ | whieh, 2 * 2 — - — — — ” — — — — — == — — — ood » ; _ = : ? Teer 2 ER —— — = — 378 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER which, if it alluded to an incident in Othello, (as Mr. Steevens ſeems to think it does,) would aſcertain this play to have appeared before 1610, in which year The Alchemiſt was firſt ated : FE «« Loavewit. Didſt thou hear, a cry, ſay*ſ thou? «© Neighb. Yes, ſir, like unto a man that had been ſtrangled an hour, and could not ſpeak.” But I doubt whether Ozhe/lo was here in Jonſon's con- templation. Old Ben generally ſpoke out; and if he bad intended to ſneer at the manner of Deſdemona's death, I think, he would have taken care that his mean- ing ſhould not be miſs' d, and would have written“ like unto a woman,”” &Cc. | | This tragedy was not entered on the books of the Stationers* company, till Oct. 6, 1621, nor printed till the following year; but it was acted at court early in the year 16135. How long before that time it had appeared, I have not been able to aſcertain, either from the play itſelf, or from any contemporary production. I have, however, perſuaded myſelf that it was one of Shakſpeare's lateſt performances: a ſuppoſition, to which the acknowledged excellence of the piece gives ſome de- gree of probability. It is here attributed to the year 1611, becauſe Dr. Warburton's comment on the paſſage above-cited may convince others, though, I confeſs it does not ſatisfy me. Emilia and Lodovico, two of the characters in this play, are likewiſe two of the perſons repreſented in May- day, a comedy by Chapman, firſt printed in 1611. 34. Tax TEMPEST, 1612. Though ſome account of the Bermuda Iſlands, which are mentioned in this play, had been publiſhed in 1600, (as Dr. Farmer has obſerved,) yet as they were not generally known till Sir George Somers arrived there in OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 379 n 1609, The Tempeſt may be fairly attributed to a period ſubſequent to that year: eſpecially as it exhibits ſuch ſtrong internal marks of having been a late production. The entry at Stationers' hall does not contribute to aſcertain the time of its compoſition; for it appears not on the Stationers? books, nor was it printed, till 1623, when it was publiſhed with the reſt of our authour's plays in folio : in which edition, having, I ſuppoſe by mere accident, obtained the firſt place, it has ever fince pre- ſerved a ſtation to which indubitably it is not entitled“. As the circumſtance from which this piece receives its name, is at an end in the very firſt ſcene, and as many other titles, all equally proper, might have occurred to Shakſpeare, (ſuch as The Inchanted Iſland, —T he Baniſhed Duke, Ferdinand and Miranda, &c.) it is poſſible, that ſome particular and recent event determined him to call it The Tempel. It appears from Stowe's Chronicle, p. 913, that in the October, November, and December of the year 1612, a dreadful tempeſt happened in England, « avhich did exceeding great damage, with extreme ſbip- ewrack throughout the ocean. There periſhed®* (ſays the hiſtorian) above an hundred ſbips in the ſpace of two houres.”*— Several pamphlets were publiſhed on this _ occaſion, decorated with prints of ſinking veſſels, caftles topling on their warders' heads, the devil overturning ſteeples, &c. In one of them, the authour deſcribing the appearance of the waves at Dover, ſays, ** the whole ſeas appeared like a fiery world, all ſparkling red. An- other of theſe narratives recounts the eſcape of Edmond Pet, a ſailor ; whoſe preſervation appears to have been no leſs marvellous than that of Trinculo or Stephano : and ſo great a terror did this tempeſt create in the minds of the people, that a form of prayer was ordered on the occaſion, which is annexed to one of the publications above mentioned. | There is reaſon to believe that ſome of our authour's dramas obtained their names from the ſeaſons at which they were produced. It is not very eaſy to account for wedit- an cn © nal roads. £ASa. oo mo oe. - —— — — « "_— 1 9 . = 22 == - | — — — : 2 _ _ 2 — - — _— - - — - — - - — — -_ s. by — — * -_ 4 r = ” 9Sce p. 354, Article, Cymbeline. j 380 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER the title of Tave/fth Night, but by ſuppoſing it to have been firſt exhibited in the Chriſtmas holydays *. Neither the title of A Mid/ummer-Night's Dream, nor that of The Winter's Tale, denotes the ſeaſon of the action; the events which are the ſubje& of the latter, occurring at the time of ſheep-ſhearing, and the dream, from which the former receives its name, happening on the night * May-day — Theſe titles, therefore, were pro- ably ſuggeſted by the ſeaſon at which the plays were exhibited, to which they belong; 4 M:a/ummer-Night's Dream having, we may preſume, been firſt repreſented in June, and The Winter's Tale in December. Perhaps then it may not be thought a very impro- bable conjecture, that this comedy was written in the ſummer of 1612, and produced on the ſtage in the latter end of that year ; and that the authour availed himſelf of a circumſtance then freſh in the minds of his audience, by affixing a title to it, which was more likely to excite curioſity than any other that he could have choſen, while at the ſame time it was ſufficiently juſtified by the ſubject of the drama. | - | Mr. Steevens, in his obſervations on this play, has quoted from the tragedy of Darius by the earl of Ster- line, firſt printed in 1603, ſome lines“ ſo ſtrongly re- | | | ſembling 1 It was formerly an eſtabliſhed cuſtom to have plays repreſented at court in the Chriſtmas holydays, aud particularly on Twelfth Night. Two of Lily's comedies ¶ Alexander and Campaſpe, 1534, and Mydas, I592,) are ſaid in their title-pages, to have been played befoore the queenes majeſtie on Twelfe-day at night 3 and ſeveral of Ben Jonſon's maſques were preſented at Whitehall, on the ſame feſtival. Our authour's | Lowe's Labour's Loft was exhibited before queen Elizabeth in the Chriſtmas holydays; and his King Lear was acted before king James on St. Stephen's night: the night after Chriſtmas-day. 2 Let greatneſs of her glaſſy ſcepters vaunt, & Not ſcepters, no but reeds, ſoon bruis'd, ſoon broken, & And let this worldly pomp our wits enchant, All fades, and ſcarcely leaves behind a token, «© Thoſe golden palaces, thoſe gorgeous halls, « With furniture rad ans + Kir, « Thoſe ſtately courts, thoſe ſty-encount ring walls, % ZEvaniſh all like vapours in the air,” | e eee A ee RSS r OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 381 ſembling a celebrated paſſage in The Tempeſt, that one authour muſt, I apprehend, have been indebted to the other. Shakſpeare, I imagine, borrowed from lord Sterline 3. | | Mr. Holt conjectured“, that the maſque in the fifth act of this comedy was intended by the poet as a com- pliment to the earl of Eſſex, on his being united in wed- lock, in 1611, to lady Frances Howard, to whom he had been contracted ſome years before 5. However this might have been, the date which that commentator has aſſigned to this play, (1614,) is certainly too late; for it appears from the Mſs. of Mr. Vertue, that the Tempeſt was acted by John Heminge and the reſt of the King's Company, bathe prince Charles, the lady Elizabeth, and the prince Palatine elector, in the beginning of the year 1613. | 3 The names of Trinculo and Antonio, two of the charac- ters in this comedy, are likewiſe found in that of Albu- magar; which was printed in 1614, but is ſuppoſed by Dryden to have appeared ſome years before. Ben Jonſon probably meant to ſneer at this play in the prologue to Every man in his humour, firſt printed in 1616, and probably written a few years before: 6x nor tempeſtuous drum * Rumble to tell you when zhe form will come.” 46 Theſe our actors, C6 As I fotetold you, were all ſpirits, and « Are melted into air, into thin air; 44 And, like the baſeleſs fabrick of this viſion, 6 The cloud-capt tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces, « The ſolemn temples, the great globe itſelf, « Yea, all which it inherit, ſhall diſſolve, ce And, like this unſubſtantial pageant faded, cc Leave not a rack behind.” Tempeſt, Act IV. ſc. i. 3 See a note on Julius Cæſar, Act I. ſc. i. 4 Obſervations on the Tempeſt, p. 67. Mr. Holt imagined, that lord Eſſex was united to lady Frances Howard in 1610; but he was miſtaken ; their union did not take place till the next year. 5 Jan. 5, 1606-7. The earl continued abroad four years from that time; ſo that he did not cohabit with his wife till 1611. p n 382 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER In the induction to his Bartholomew Fair he has endea- voured to depretiate this beautiful comedy by calling it a foolery. Dryden, however, informs us that it was a very popular play at Blackfriars, but unluckily has not ſaid a word relative to the time of its firſt repreſentation there, though he might certainly have received information on that ſubject from Sir William D' Avenant. | The only note of time which I have obſerved in this play, is in Act II. ſc. ii. — when they | the Engliſh] w1ll not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten te ſee a dead Indian.” This probably al- ludes to ſome recent circumſtance with which I am un- acquainted, | | 35. Twelrrn Ni o HT, 1614. It has been generally believed, that Shakſpeare retired from the theatre, and ceaſed to write, about three years before he died. The latter ſuppoſition muſt now be con- ſidered as extremely doubtful ; for Mr. Tyrwhitt, with great probability, conjectures, that Twelfth Night was written in 1614: grounding his opinion on an alluſion , which it ſeems to contain, to thoſe parliamentary ander- takers of whom frequent mention is made in the Jour- nals of the Houſe of Commons for that year? ; who were ſtigmatized with this invidious name, on account of their having «ndertaken to manage the elections of knights and burgeſſes in ſuch a manner as to ſecure a majority in par- liament for the court. If this alluſion was intended, Twelfth Night was probably our authour's laſt produc- tion; and, we may preſume, was written after he had retired to Stratford. It is obſervable that Mr. Aſhley, a member of the Houſe of Commons, in one of the de- bates on this fubjeR, ſays, that the rumour concern- ing theſe undertakers had fpread into the country. 6 C Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.” See Twelfth Night, Act IV. ſc. iii. and the note there. 7 Comm. Journ. Vol. I. p. 456, 457, 470. When wn di — — ... ̃ ̃ «Nas EE wr —— * : OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 383 When Shakſpeare quitted London and his profeſſion, for the tranquillity of a rural retirement, it is improba- ble that ſuch an excurſive genius ſhould have been im- mediately reconciled to a ſtate of mental inactivity. It is more natural to conceive, that he ſhould have occaſion- - ally bent his thoughts towards the theatre, which his muſe had ſupported, and the intereſt of his aſſociates whom he had left behind him to ſtruggle with the capri- cious viciſſitudes of publick taſte, and whom, his laſt Will ſhews us, he had not forgotten. To the neceſſity, there- fore, of literary amuſement to every cultivated mind, or to the dictates of friendſhip, or to both theſe incentives, we are perhaps indebted for the comedy of Twelfth Night ; which bears evident marks of having been com- poſed at leiſufe, as moſt of the characters that it contains, are finiſhed to a higher degree of dramatick perfection, than 1s diſcoverable in ſome of our authour's earlier comick performances 5, | | In the third act of this comedy, Decker's Veſtabard Hoe ſeems to be alluded to. Weſtward Hoe was printed in 1607, and from the prologue to Zaftward Hoe appears to have been acted in 1604, or before. 1— Maria, in Twelfth Night, ſpeaking of Malvolio, ſays, «© he does {mile his face into more lines than the eau map with the augmentation of the Indies.“ I have not been able to learn the date of the map here alluded to; but, as it is ſpoken of as a recent publication, it may, when diſcovered, ſerve to aſcertain the date of this play more exactly. | The comedy of What you will, (the ſecond title of the play now before us,)which was entered at Stationers' hall, Aug. 9, 1607, was certainly Marſton's play, as it was printed in that year for T. Thorpe, by whom the above- mentioned entry was made; and it appears to have been the general practice of the bookſellers at that time, re- 8 The comedies particularly alluded to, are, A Midſummer-Night's Dream, The Comedy of Errors, Lowe's Labour's Left, and The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 0 | cently 384 CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER cently before publication, to enter thoſe plays of which they had procured copies. | Twelfth Night was not regiſtered on the Stationers? books, nor printed, till 1623. | It has been thought, that Ben Jonſon intended to ridi- eule the conduct of this play, in his Every Man out of his Humour, at the end of Act III. ſc. vi. where he makes Mitis ſay,—** That the argument of his comedy might have been of ſome other nature, as of a duke to be in love with a counteſs, and that counteſs to be in love with the duke's ſon, and the ſon in love with the lady's wait- ing-maid: ſome ſuch croſs wooing, with a clown to their ſerving-man, better than be thus near and familiarly allied to the time 9.” I do not, however, believe, that Jonſon had here Twelfth Night in contemplation. If an alluſion to this comedy were intended, it would aſcertain it to have been written before 1599, when Every Man out of his Humonr was firſt aged. But Meres does not mention T7 wel/7h Night in 1598, nor is there any reaſon to believe that it then exiſted. | . | «« Mrs. Mall's picture,“ which is mentioned in this play, probably means the picture of Moll Cutpurſe, who was born in 1585, and made much noiſe in London about the year 1611. RY | The Sophy of Perſia is twice mentioned in Tavelfth Night. I. I will not give my part of this ſport for a penſion of thouſands to be paid by the Sophy.*?* 2. He pays you as ſure as your feet hit the ground you ſtep on. They ſay he has been fencer to the Sophy.*? When Shakſpeare wrote the firſt of theſe paſſages, he was perhaps thinking of Sir Robert Shirley, who,“ ſays Stowe's Continuator, “after having ſerved the So- phy of Perſia for ten years as general of artillerie, and married the Lady Tereſa, whoſe ſiſter was one of the queens of Perſia, arrived in England as ambaſſador from the Sophy in 1612. After ſtaying one year he 9 See the firſt note on Twelfth Nigbt, Act I. ſc. 1. , | an OF SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 385 and his wife returned to Perſia, (Jan. 1612-13,) leaving a fon, to whom the queen was godmother, and Prince Henry godfather.” 5 Camden's account agrees with this, for according to him Sir Robert Shirley came to England on his em- baſſy, June 26, 1612: but both the accounts are errone- ous; for Sir Robert Shirley certainly arrived in London as ambaſſador from the Sophy in 1611, as appears from a letter written by him to Henry prince of Wales, dated Nov. 4, 1611, requeſting the prince to be godfather to | his ſon *. Sir Robert, and his Perſian Lady, at this time : i made much noiſe ; and Shakſpeare, it is highly probable, here alludes to the magnificence which he diſplayed during his ſtay in England, out of the funds allotted to him by the emperor of Perſia. He remained in England about eighteen months, | — If the dates here aſſigned to our authour's plays ſnould not, in every inſtance, bring with them conviction of | their propriety, let it be remembered, that this is a ſub- if ject on which conviction cannot at this day be obtained; | and that the obſervations now ſubmitted to the publick, || do not pretend, to any higher title than that of AN if ATTEMPT to aſcertain the chronology of the dramas of 'l Shakſpeare.” | | Should the errors and deficiencies of this eſſay invite | others to deeper and more ſucceſsful reſearches, the end propoſed by it will be attained : and he who offers the preſent arrangement of Shakſpeare's dramas, will be happy to transfer the ſlender portion of credit that may reſult from the: novelty of his undertaking, to ſome future claimant, who may be ſupplied with ampler mate- | rials, and endued with a ſuperior degree of antiquarian ſagacity. | | | To ſome, he is not unapprized, this inquiry will ap- pear a tedious and barren ſpeculation, But there are . — _ — wo —_ * — — —ů —„— > — 4 — — 1 25 — — — - 4 . 5 1 + - - L, A m— Y —— ”" 4 — — — — —— W —ͤ 1 Mſs. Harl. 7008. | Vorn Is [Bb] many, — — ä — — — * — — ns ES * — . 2 1 OO * " — -— b — 2 » —_ — I NN NI — 7«7ð˙ > tp —— I —— — _— — i —— —e— 64 ? 2 — 5 —— ene, » — — — — D—ͤ—è _ 404 SHAKSPEARE, FORD, his play was damned in 1629, the affertion is made at random ; if he means that immediately after he had pub- liſhed his play he wrote his ode, the fact is not true. The ode is printed at the end of the play, which was publiſhed in April, 1631. . The next new fact found in this curious pamphlet is, that Ben Jonſon, mortified by his own defeat and the ſuc- ceſs which Ford's play obtained, wrote the following Epigram upon his ſucceſsful competitor : „ PLAYWRIGHT, by chance, hearing ſome toys I had writ, | “ Cry'd to my face, they were th' elixir of wit; «© And I muſt now believe him, for to. day «« Five of my jeſts, then ſtolne, paſs'd him a play.“ This epigram, I own, is ſo much in the manner of the time, and particularly of Ben Jonſon, that'for a long time I knew not how to queſtion its authenticity. It is ſo ſtrongly marked, that every poetical reader muſt immedi- ately exclaim, aut Eraſmus, aut diabolus, Nor indeed is it to be wondered at that it is much in Ben's manner; for,—not to keep the reader longer in ſuſpence, it was avritten by him.— Well then, ſays the writer of the letter in queſtion, here you have a ſtrong confirmation of all the other facts which you affect to doubt, and every im- partial judge muſt acquit me of having fabricated them. This, however, we ſhall find a zon /equitur : for this very epigram, though written by Jonſon, is as deciſive a proof of impoſition as any other which I have produced. The fact is, this epigram, addreſſed to Praywricar, is found among Jonſon's printed poems, as are two others addreſſed to the ſame perſon*. Mr. M, I ſuppoſe, was 3 See Jonſon's Works, folio, 1616. To PLAT WRIEGT., 6 PLAYWREGHT me reades, and ſtill my verſes damnes; «© He ſayes, I want the tongue of epigrammes ; c J have no ſalt; no bawdrie he doth meane, 6 For wittie, in his language, is obſcene. - . «© PLAYWRIGHT, I loath to have thy manners knowne «© In my chaſte booke ; profeſſe them in thine owne.“ | Fpigo AND JONSON: : 405 was poſſeſſed only of the modern edition of Jonſon's Works printed in 8vo. in 1716, and, no dates being aſſigned to the poems, thought he might ſafely make free with this epigram, and affix the date of the year 1630, or 1631, to it ; but unluckily it was publiſhed by Old Ben himſelf fourteen or fifteen years before, in the firſt folio collection of his works in 1616, and conſequently could not have any relation to a literary altercation between him and Ford at the time The New [nn and The Lower's Melancholy were brought on the ſcene. It appears from Ben Jonſon's Dedication of his Epigrams to Lord Pem- broke, that moit of them, though publiſhed in 1616, were written ſome years before“; the epigram in queſ- tion therefore may be referred to a ſtill earlier period than the time of its publication. | On one of the lines in this epigram, as exhibited by Mr. Macklin, | «« Five of my jeſts, then ſtolne, paſs'd him a play.“ we find the following note: Alluding to a character in The Ladies“ Trial, which Ben ſays Ford ſtole from him.“ If the writer of this letter had ſaid, ©* Alluding to a character in T he Ladies Trial, which Ford ftole from Ben Jonſon, we might ſuppoſe him only miſtaken ; and this anachroniſm (ſuppoſing that the epigram had been written in 1631) might not affect the preſent queſtion. But we are told, gen {ays ſo.” He certainly has not | ſaid fo in his works, and therefore the letter-writer muſt mean, that it 15 aſſerted in the pamphlet from which he pretended to quote, that Ben had ſaid ſo. But Ben could Epig. LXVIII. ON PLAYWRIGH To cc PLAYWRIGHT, convict of publick wrongs to men, « Takes private beatings, and begins againe. « Two kindes of valour he doth thew at ones, « Active in his braine, and paſlive in his bones.“ The perſon aimed at, under the name of Playwright, was proba- | bly Decker. 9 « I here offer to your lordſhip the ripeſt of my ſtudies, my epi- grammes, which, though they carry danger in the ſound, do not therefore ſeek your ſhelter. For evben I made them, 1 had nothing in my conſcience, to expreſſing of which I did need a cypher. But if I be falne into choſe times, wherein, for the likeneſs of vice, &c. IC 31 not 41 8HAEKSPEARE, FORD, not poſſibly have ſaid ſo, even if he had written this epigram at the time to which it has been falſely aſcribed; for this plain reaſon, that The Ladies Trial was not pro- duced till ſeveral years afterwards. It was firſt printed in 1639, two years after Ben Jonſon's death, and does not appear to have been licenſed by Sir Henry Herbert be- fore that time. The origin of this note, by which con- Fuſion is worſe confounded, was os this: Lang- baine under the article, Fletcher, mentions that a ſcene in his Lowe's Pilgrimage was flollen from the very play of which we have been ſpeaking ; Jonſon's New Inn. This ſcene Fletcher himſelf could not have ſtollen from The New Inn, for he was dead ſome years before that play appeared ; but Shirley, who had the reviſal of ſome of thoſe pieces which were left imperfect by Fletcher, (as appears from Sir Henry Herbert's Office- book?,) Ending B New Inn unſucceſsſul, took the liberty to boxrow a ſcene from it, which he inſerted in Lowe's Pilgrimage, when that play was revived, or as Sir Henry Herbert calls it, renewed, in 1635. Mr. M. had probably 1 In Sir Henry Herbert's Office. book is the following entry: „ For a play of Fletcher's, corrected by Shirley, called The Night-walkers, the 11th of May, 1633,—-{.2 o o. | i 2 6 Received of Blagrove from the King's Company, for the renew « ing of Love's Pilgrimage, the 16th of September, 1635,—£.i o O.“ Ibidem. The addition of a new ſcene, and ſometimes an entire act, to an old play, appears from the following entries in the ſame book to have been common: «« For the adding of a ſcene to The Virgin Martyr, this 7th July, i624,—L.0 10 o.“ NE | | « For allowing of a new act in an ould play, this 13th May, 1629,.—L. 0 10 o.“ « For allowing of an ould play, new written or forbiſht by Mr. Biſton, the 12th of January, 1631,—/.1 o o.“ 6 An ould play, with ſome new icenes, Doctor Lambe and the : Witches, to Saliſbury Courte, the 16th Auguſt, 1634,.—C. 1 O o. & Received of ould Cartwright for allowing the | Fortune] compa- ny to add ſcenes to an ould play, and to give it out for a new one, this 12th of May, 1636, L.1 o o.“ | | ; This practice prevailed in Shakſpeare's time. © The players,” ſays Lupton, in his London and the Country carbonadoed and quartered, 8v0, 1602, © are as crafty with an old play, as bauds with old faces: the one puts on a new freſh colour, the other a new face and name.” K 7 AND JONSON, 407 probably ſome imperfect recollection of what he had read in Langbaine, and found it convenient to ſubſtitute | Ford's play for that of Fletcher. We are next told, that this pamphlet aſſerts that Ben Jonſon had given out that The Lover's Melancholy was not written by Ford, but purloined from Shakſpeare's papers, of which Ford in conjunction with Heminge and Condell is ſaid to have had the reviſal, when the firſt | folio edition of our poet's works was publiſhed in 1623. It ſhould not be forgotten, that the writer of this let- ter had aſſerted in a former letter, that it appears from Several of Ford's Sonnets and Venſes that he lived in the - ſtricteſt intimacy with Shakſpeare, to the time of his death: and I may confidently add, that there is not the ſmalleſt ground for the aſſertion, no ſuch ſonnets or verſes being extant, We need not, therefore, heſitate to pronounce the preſent aſſertion to be equally unfounded as the former, | | After what has been already ſtated, it would be an idle waſte of time to enter into any long diſquiſition on this fiction, It was evidently thrown out to excite the expectation of the town with reſpect to the piece itſelf on the night of the performance. The old plays of the minor poets of the laſt age being in 1748 little known or attended to, thoſe who were curious could not eafily ſatisfy themſelves concerning the merit or demerit of The Lover's Melancholy by reading it, (it not being re- publiſhed in Dodſley's Collection,) and therefore would naturally reſort to the theatre to examine whether there was any ground for ſuch an aſſertion: the preciſe end which the letter-writer had in view. When he talked + of Shakſpeare's papers, he was probably thinking of what Heminge and Condell have ſaid in their preface, — % we have ſcarce received from him a blot in hs pa- pers. But by his papers they meant nothing more than If the Office-books of Edmund Tilney, Eſq, and Sir George Buck, who were Matters of the Revels during the greater part of the reign ot King James the Firſt, ſhall ever be diſcovered, I have no doubt that the Viſion, Maſque, and Prophecy, in the fifth act of Cymbeline, will be round to have been interpolated by the players after our poet's death. [Cc4] the | | | 408 SHAKSPEARE, FORD, the old copies of his plays which had lain long in their houſe, from which they printed part of their edition, Whatever other papers our poet left, without doubt de- volved to his family at Stratford, The four encomiaſtick lines ſigned © Thomas May,” and the elegant verſes aſcribed to Endymion Porter, now alone remain to be conſidered. Endymion Porter, whom Sir William Davenant, Shakſpeare's ſuppoſed ſon, calls lord of his muſe and heart, being mentioned by Mr. Rowe in his Life of Shakſpeare, as a. great admirer of our poet, his name naturally preſented itſelf to the writer of this letter, as a proper one to be ſubſcribed to an eulogy on him and Ford ; and he found, or might have found, in Lang- baine's Account of the Dramatick Poets, that May lived in the ſtricteſt intimacy with Endymion Porter, to whom he has dedicated his Antigone, publiſhed in 1631 ; a play which probably, when this letter was written, was in Mr. Macklin's poſſeſſion. Thomas Randolph and Tho- mas Carew having each of them written verſes to Jonſon after the publication of the celebrated ode annexed to his unfortunate New Inn, requeſting him not to leave the ſtage, as the letter-writer might alſo have learned from Langbaine, who has given Randolph's Ode at length, he naturally would read over their lines; and Randolph having written ** 4 Gratulatory Poem to Ben Jonſon for his adopting of him to be his ſon, in which we find the following hyperbolical couplet, «© But if heaven take thee, envying us thy lyre, 4 Tis to pen anthems for an angel's quire;“ he is not improperly ſtyled by the letter-writer, „Jon- ſon's Zany3.,” : | 3 Randolph's attachment to Ben Jonſon was alſo noticed in the letter printed in the preceding month, in The General Advertiſer, (the Theatrical Gazette of that time,) by way of prelude to Mr. Ryan's benefit. „ He was, ſays the writer, a man of pregnant wit, gay hu- mour, and of excellent learning; which gained him the eſteem of the town, and particularly recommended bim to Ben Jonſon, who adopted him one of bis ſons, and held him in equal eſteem with the ingenious Mr. Cartwright, another of the laureat's adopted ſons.“ The AND JONSON. 409 The four lines to which May's name is affixed, are inſcribed, *© To my worthy friend John Ford ;** and it is obſervable that a copy of verſes written by William Singleton, and prefixed to The Lover's Melancholy, are alſo inſcribed, ©* To my worthy friend, the author, Maſ- ter John Ford.“ But why, we ſhall be told, might not May, as well as Mr. Singleton, addreſs Ford as his eworthy friend! Be it ſo then; but unluckily, May, pre- ciſely when he is ſuppoſed to have made this panegyrick upon Ford, and to have informed the publick, that, even ſuppoling The Lover's Melancholy was from Shak- ſpeare's cc treaſury reft, That plunderer Ben ne'er made ſo rich a theft ;*? unluckily, I ſay, at this very time, May was living in the ſtricteſt friendſhip with Jonſon ; for to May's tranſ- lation of Lucan, publiſhed in 1630, is prefixed a com- mendatory poem by Jonſon, —addreſſed To his cho- ſen friend, the learned tranſlator of Lucan, Thomas May, Eſquire, and ſubſcribed, ©* Your true friend in Judgment and choiſe, Benjamin Jonſon,”? The verſes ſubſcribed, 7 homas May, are as follows: ns Le, from Shakſpeare's mine your play you rew; «© What need, when Shakſpeare ſtill ſurvives in you? 6 But grant it were from his vaſt treaſury reft, That plunderer Ben ne'er made ſo rich a theft.“ I have already obſerved, that, Randolph having writ- ten a reply to Jonſon's ode, the writer of this letter would naturally look into his works. In a poem adreſſed to Ben Fonſon, ſpeaking of the works of Ariſtotle, (the writer by the way, to whom that ſentence of Greek which 1s found in the title-page of the preſent edition was originally applied,) he has theſe lines ; I could fit «« Under a willow covert, and repeat «© Thoſe deep and learned lays, on every part «© Grounded in judgment, ſubtilty, and art, F ” That cc — — —— — a 8 ä—m2ü—y7?c — — — 410 SHAKSPEARE, FORD, That the great tutor to the greateſt king, The ſhepherd of Stagira us'd to ſing ; «© The ſhepherd of Stagira, that unfolds « All nature's cloſet, ſhews what e'er it holds, £6 'The matter, form, ſenſe, motion, place, and mea- ſure, b 4 Of every thing contain'd in her v, treaſure.” Ass Shakſpeare's ©* va/? treaſury?” may have been bor- rowed from this writer, ſo the rich thefts of that plun- derer Ben“ might have been ſuggeſted to Mr. M. by the following lines addreſſed by Thomas Carew “ to Ben Jonſon, upon occaſion of his ode of defiance annext to his play of the New Inn: Let them the dear expence of oil upbraid, «« duck'd by thy watchful lamp, that hath betray'd 4 To theft the blood of martyr'd authors, ſpilt Into thy ink, whilft thou grow' ſt pale with guilt, c Repine not at the taper's thrifty waſte, | 4 That ſleeks thy terſer poems; nor is haſte c Praiſe, but excuſe; and if thou overcome ce A knotty writer, bring the booty home; e Nor think it %%, if the rich ſpoils ſo torn cc From conquer'd authors, be as trophies worn.“ I have traced the marked expreſſions in this tetraſtick toRandolph and Carew; they might, however, have been ſuggeſted by a book ſtill more likely to have been con- ſulted by the writer of it, Langbaine's Account of 7h; Dramatick Poets; and particularly by that part of his work in which he ſpeaks of Ben Fonſon's literary thefts, on which I have this moment happened to caſt my eye. To come laſtly to Ben Fon/on, who, as Mr. Dryden af- firms, has borrowed more trom the ancients than any ; I crave leave to ſay in his behalf, that our late laureat has far out-done him in #4275, - When Mr. Jonſon borrowed, *twas from the treaſury of the ancients, which is ſo far from any diminution of his worth, that I think it is to his honour, at leaſt-wiſe I am ſure he is juſtified by his ſon Cartwright, in the following lines: 8 1 e | % What AND JONSON.. 411 ce What though thy ſearching Muſe did rake the duſt « Oft time, and purge old metals from their ruſt ? c Ts it no labour, no art, think they, to * Snatch ſhipwrecks from the deep, as divers do; «© And reſcue jewels from the covetous ſand, „Making the ſeas hid wealth adorn the land? What though thy culling Muſe did rob the ſtore 4 Of Greek and Latin gardens, to bring o'er « Plants to thy native ſoil? their virtues were © Improv'd far more by being planted here.— « Thefts thus become juſt works; they and their grace « Are wholly thine : thus doth the ſtamp and face « Make that the king's that's raviſh'd from the mine; - & In others then *cis ore, in thee *tis coin.“ - © On the contrary, though Mr. Dryden has likewiſe borrowed from the Greek and Latin poets,—which I purpoſely omit to tax him with, as thinking what he has taken to be lawful prize, yet I can not but obſerve withal, that he has p/under'd the chief Italian, Spaniſh, and French wits for forage, notwithſtanding his pretend- ed contempt of them; and not only ſo, but even his own countrymen have been forced to pay him tribute, or, to ſay better, have not been exempt from being p7/laged “.“ Here we have at once—the mine, the zreaſury, the plunderer, and the rich thefts, of this modern-antique compolition 5, | The 4 Account of the Dramatick Poets, d vo. 1691, pp. 145, 148, 149. S Mr. Macklin tells us, that the pamphlet from which he pretends to quote, mentions, that among other depreciating language Jonſon had ſaid of Shakſpeare, that © the man had imagination and vit none could deny, but that they were ever guided by true judgment in the rules and conduct of a piece, none could with juſtice aſſert, both being ever ſervile to raiſe the laughter of fo:ls and the wonder of the ignorant. ; | «« Being guided by judgment in the conduct of a piece,“ is perfectly _ intelligible; but what are we to underſtand by being guided by judgment in the rules of a piece? However, every part of this ſentence alſo may betraced to its ſource, Mr. Pope has ſaid in his preface, that © not only the common audience had no notion of the rules of writing, but few of the better ſort piqued themſelves upon any great.degree of knowledge or nicety that way, till Ben Jonſon getting poſſeſſion of the ſtage, brought | critical 412 SHAKSPEARE, FORD, The laſt copy of verſes, aſcribed to Endymion Porter, are uncommonly elegant, and perhaps one of the beſt in- vented fictions that can be pointed out. Theſe letter- tyrant elves is much in the manner of the time, as is « their pedant ſelves, in a ſubſequent line. But how difficult is it to aſſume the manner or language of a for- mer age, without occaſionally lapſing into thoſe of the preſent! The phraſes, ©* upon the whole,” and from college, — Indeed, ſays Tom, pon the whole,” &c. „ But Ben and Tom from college critical learning into vogue: and Jonſon himſelf in his Diſcoveries, ſpeaking of Shakſpeare, ſays, “ his wit was in his power, would the rule of it had been ſo.” : In Mr. Pope's Preface we are told, that “ in tragedy nothing was ſo ſure to ſurpriſe, and create admiration, as the moſt ſtrange, improb- able, and conſequently moſt unnatural, incidents and events.-In co- medy, nothing was ſo ſure to pleaſe, as mean buffoonery, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jeſts of fools and clowns.” Prefixed to Randolph's Works is a panegyrick written by Mr, Rich- ard Weſt, from whoſe poem two lines are quoted by Langbaine, which were alſo inſerted in The General Adwertiſer of the 5th of March 1748, in the encomium on Randolph's plays. In Mr. Weſt'sVerſes, ſpeaking of ordinary dramatick poets, he ſays, & For humours to lie leiger, they are ſeen ER c Oft in a tavern or a bowling-green. 6 They do obſerve each place and company, & As ſtrictly as a traveller or ſpy; — „ And fit with patience an hour by the heels, 66 To learn the nonſenſe of the conſtables; & Such jig-like flim-flams being got, to make & The rabble laugh, and nut-cracking forſake.“ Randolph is then deſcribed, and among other high praiſes, we are told, „ There's none need fear to ſurfeit with his phraſe ; « He has no giant raptures, to amaze c And torture weak capacities with wonder.” We have already ſeen that Mr. Macklin had been juſt peruſing Ben onſon's Epigrams. In his ſecond Epigram, which is addreiled to his book, are theſe lines: | & by thy wiſer temper let men know, & Thou art not covetous of leaſt ſelf- fame, cc Made from the hazard of another's ſhame : | ; «© Much leſs, with lewd, prophane, and beaſtly phraſe, & To catch the world's looſe laughter, or waine gaze." 1 | | ave ND 413 have a very modern ſound, and are not, I believe, uſed by any of our old Engliſh writers.—I muſt alſo obſerve that Mr. M. found his after-times in the old panegyrick on Ford, which he inſerted in has firſt letter, and Awvor's ſwan in Ben Jonſon's Verſes on Shakſpeare, prefixed to all the editions of his plays; and that the extravagant and unfounded praiſe here given to Ford, who, like our great poet, is ſaid to have been ent from heaven, and the inſinuation that the Lover's Melancholy was Shak- ſpeare's, every ward,” were evidently calculated for the temporary purpoſe of aiding a benefit, and *putting money into the purſe of the writer. While, however, we transfer theſe elegant lines from Endymion Porter to Mr. Macklin, let us not forget that they exhibit no common ſpecimen of an eaſy verfification and a good taſte, and that they add a new wreath to the poetical crown of this veteran comedian. I have only to add, that John Ford and Thomas May were ſo far from being at variance with Old Ben, that in Fonſonius Virbius, a collection of poems on the death of Ben Jonſon, publiſhed in 1638, about ſix months after his death, there is an encomiaſtick poem by John Ford; and in this volume 1s alſo found a panegyrick by - Ford's friend, George Donne, and another by Thomas May, who ityles Ben “ the beſt of our Engliſh poets.” On this, however, I lay no great ſtreſs, becauſe the ſame collection exhibits a poem by Jonſon's old antago- niſt, Owen Feltham : but if, after all that has been ſtated, | the ſmalleſt doubt could remain concerning the ſubject of our preſent diſquiſition, I might obſerve, that Ford appears not only to have lived on amicable terms with Ben Jonſon himſelf, (at leaſt we have no proof to the con- trary,) but with his ſervant, Richard Brome ; to whoſe play entitled The Northern Laſs, which was aQed by the King's Company on the 29th of July 1629, the very year of the publication of The Lover's Melancholy, and of the firſt exhibition of The New Inn, is prefixed an high panegyrick by“ the author's very friend, Fohn Ford.“ | | Let 414 S HAK SPEARE, FORD, &c. Let the preſent detection be a leſſon to mankind in matters of greater moment, and teach thoſe whom higher conſiderations do not deter from invading the rights or property of others by any kind of fiction, to abſtain from ſuch an attempt, from the zheicacy and folly of it; for the moſt plauſible and beſt fabricated tale, if properly examined, will crumble to pieces, like << the labour'd mole,”* looſened from its foundations by the continued force of the ocean; while ſimple and honeſt truth, firm and ſelf-dependent, will ever maintain its ground againſt all aſſailants, — | | &« As rocks reſiſt the billows and the ſky.” | | MaLoxz. "4 GH { i F f * 72 BY FN 45 14 * <2 a 7 © F we 8 m"— 2 END OF THE FIRST PART OF THE FIRST VOLUME,