It has been allow’d on all hands, far our Author was indebted to

_Nature_; it is not so well agreed, how much he ow’d to _Languages_

and acquir’d _Learning_. The Decisions on this Subject were

certainly set on Foot by the Hint from _Ben Jonson_, that he had

small _Latin_ and less _Greek_: And from this Tradition, as it were,

Mr. _Rowe_ has thought fit peremptorily to declare, that, “It is

without Controversy, he had no Knowledge of the Writings of the

ancient Poets, for that in his Works we find no Traces of any thing

which looks like an Imitation of the Ancients. For the Delicacy of

his Taste (_continues He_,) and the natural Bent of his own great

Genius (equal, if not superior, to some of the Best of theirs;)

would certainly have led him to read and study them with so much

Pleasure, that some of their fine Images would naturally have

insinuated themselves into, and been mix’d with, his own Writings:

so that his not copying, at least, something from them, may be an

Argument of his never having read them.” I shall leave it to the

Determination of my Learned Readers, from the numerous Passages,

which I have occasionally quoted in my Notes, in which our Poet

seems closely to have imitated the Classics, whether Mr. _Rowe_’s

Assertion be so absolutely to be depended on. The Result of the

Controversy must certainly, either way, terminate to our Author’s

Honour: how happily he could imitate them, if that Point be allow’d;

or how gloriously he could think like them, without owing any thing

to Imitation.

Tho’ I should be very unwilling to allow _Shakespeare_ so poor a

Scholar, as Many have labour’d to represent him, yet I shall be

very cautious of declaring too positively on the other side of the

Question: that is, with regard to my Opinion of his Knowledge in the

dead Languages. And therefore the Passages, that I occasionally

quote from the _Classics_, shall not be urged as Proofs that he

knowingly imitated those Originals; but brought to shew how happily

he has express’d himself upon the same Topicks. A very learned

Critick of our own Nation has declar’d, that a Sameness of Thought

and Sameness of Expression too, in Two Writers of a different Age,

can hardly happen, without a violent Suspicion of the Latter copying

from his Predecessor. I shall not therefore run any great Risque

of a Censure, tho’ I should venture to hint, that the Resemblance,

in Thought and Expression, of our Author and an Ancient (which

we should allow to be Imitation in One, whose Learning was not

question’d) may sometimes take its Rise from Strength of Memory, and

those Impressions which he ow’d to the School. And if we may allow a

Possibility of This, considering that, when he quitted the School,

he gave into his Father’s Profession and way of Living, and had,

’tis likely, but a slender Library of Classical Learning; and

considering what a Number of Translations, Romances, and Legends,

started about his Time, and a little before; (most of which, ’tis

very evident, he read;) I think, it may easily be reconcil’d, why he

rather schemed his _Plots_ and _Charaters_ from these more latter

Informations, than went back to those Fountains, for which he might

entertain a sincere Veneration, but to which he could not have so

ready a Recourse.

In touching on another Part of his Learning, as it related to the

Knowledge of _History_ and _Books_, I shall advance something, that,

at first sight, will very much wear the Appearance of a Paradox.

For I shall find it no hard Matter to prove, that from the grossest

Blunders in History, we are not to infer his real Ignorance of it:

Nor from a greater Use of _Latin_ Words, than ever any other

_English_ Author used, must we infer his Knowledge of that Language.

A Reader of Taste may easily observe, that tho’ _Shakespeare_,

almost in every Scene of his historical Plays, commits the grossest

Offences against Chronology, History, and Antient Politicks; yet

This was not thro’ Ignorance, as is generally supposed, but thro’

the too powerful Blaze of his Imagination; which, when once raised,

made all acquired Knowledge vanish and disappear before it. For

Instance, in his _Timon_, he turns _Athens_, which was a perfect

Democracy, into an Aristocracy; while he ridiculously gives a

Senator the Power of banishing _Alcibiades_. On the contrary, in

_Coriolanus_, he makes _Rome_, which at that time was a perfect

Aristocracy, a Democracy full as ridiculously, by making the People

choose _Coriolanus_ Consul: Whereas, in Fact, it was not till the

Time of _Manlius_ _Torquatus_, that the People had a Right of

choosing one Consul. But this Licence in him, as I have said, must

not be imputed to Ignorance: since as often we may find him, when

Occasion serves, reasoning up to the Truth of History; and throwing

out Sentiments as justly adapted to the Circumstances of his

Subject, as to the Dignity of his Characters, or Dictates of Nature

in general.

Then, to come to his Knowledge of the _Latin_ Tongue, ’tis certain,

there is a surprising Effusion of _Latin_ Words made _English_, far

more than in any one _English_ Author I have seen; but we must be

cautious to imagine, this was of his own doing. For the _English_

Tongue, in his Age, began extremely to suffer by an Inundation of

_Latin_; and to be overlaid, as it were, by its Nurse, when it had

just began to speak by her before-prudent Care and Assistance. And

this, to be sure, was occasion’d by the Pedantry of those two

Monarchs, _Elizabeth_ and _James_, Both great _Latinists_. For it

is not to be wonder’d at, if both the Court and Schools, equal

Flatterers of Power, should adapt themselves to the Royal Taste.

This, then, was the Condition of the _English_ Tongue when

_Shakespeare_ took it up: like a Beggar in a rich Wardrobe. He found

the pure native _English_ too cold and poor to second the Heat and

Abundance of his Imagination: and therefore was forc’d to dress it

up in the Robes, he saw provided for it: rich in themselves, but

ill-shaped; cut out to an air of Magnificence, but disproportion’d

and cumbersome. To the Costliness of Ornament, he added all the

Graces and Decorum of it. It may be said, this did not require, or

discover a Knowledge of the _Latin_. To the first, I think, it did

not; to the second, it is so far from discovering it, that, I think,

it discovers the contrary. To make This more obvious by a modern

Instance: The great MILTON likewise labour’d under the like

Inconvenience; when he first set upon adorning his own Tongue, he

likewise animated and enrich’d it with the _Latin_, but from his own

Stock: and so, rather by bringing in the Phrases, than the Words:

And This was natural; and will, I believe, always be the Case in the

same Circumstances. His Language, especially his Prose, is full of

_Latin_ Words indeed, but much fuller of _Latin_ Phrases: and his

Mastery in the Tongue made this unavoidable. On the contrary,

_Shakespeare_, who, perhaps, was not so intimately vers’d in the

_Language_, abounds in the Words of it, but has few or none of its

Phrases: Nor, indeed, if what I affirm be true, could He. This I

take to be the truest _Criterion_ to determine this long agitated

Question.

It may be mention’d, tho’ no certain Conclusion can be drawn from

it, as a probable Argument of his having read the Antients; that He

perpetually expresses the Genius of _Homer_, and other great Poets

of the Old World, in animating all the Parts of his Descriptions;

and, by bold and breathing Metaphors and Images, giving the

Properties of Life and Action to inanimate Things. He is a Copy

too of those _Greek_ Masters in the infinite use of _compound_ and

_de-compound Epithets_. I will not, indeed, aver, but that One with

_Shakespeare_’s exquisite Genius and Observation might have traced

these glaring Characteristics of Antiquity by reading _Homer_ in

_Chapman_’s Version.

[Sidenote: _B. Jonson_ and _Shakespeare_ compar’d.]

An additional Word or two naturally falls in here upon the Genius of

our Author, as compared with that of _Jonson_ his Contemporary. They

are confessedly the greatest Writers our Nation could ever boast

of in the _Drama_. The first, we say, owed all to his prodigious

natural Genius; and the other a great deal to his Art and Learning.

This, if attended to, will explain a very remarkable Appearance in

their Writings. Besides those wonderful Masterpieces of Art and

Genius, which each has given Us; They are the Authors of other Works

very unworthy of them: But with this Difference; that in _Jonson_’s

bad Pieces we don’t discover one single Trace of the Author of

the _Fox_ and _Alchemist_: but in the wild extravagant Notes

of _Shakespeare_, you every now and then encounter Strains that

recognize the divine Composer. This Difference may be thus accounted

for. _Jonson_, as we said before, owing all his Excellence to his

Art, by which he sometimes strain’d himself to an uncommon Pitch,

when at other times he unbent and play’d with his Subject, having

nothing then to support him, it is no wonder he wrote so far beneath

himself. But _Sbakespeare_, indebted more largely to Nature, than

the Other to acquired Talents, in his most negligent Hours could

never so totally divest himself of his Genius, but that it would

frequently break out with astonishing Force and Splendor.

[Sidenote: His Reputation under Disadvantages.]

As I have never propos’d to dilate farther on the Character of my

Author, than was necessary to explain the Nature and Use of this

Edition, I shall proceed to consider him as a Genius in Possession

of an Everlasting Name. And how great that Merit must be, which

could gain it against all the Disadvantages of the horrid Condition

in which he has hitherto appear’d! Had _Homer_, or any other admir’d

Author, first started into Publick so, maim’d and deform’d, we

cannot determine whether they had not sunk for ever under the

Ignominy of such an ill Appearance. The mangled Condition of

_Shakespeare_ has been acknowledg’d by Mr. _Rowe_, who publish’d him

indeed, but neither corrected his Text, nor collated the old Copies.

This Gentleman had Abilities, and a sufficient Knowledge of his

Author, had but his Industry been equal to his Talents. The same

mangled Condition has been acknowledg’d too by Mr. _Pope_, who

publish’d him likewise, pretended to have collated the old Copies,

and yet seldom has corrected the Text but to its Injury. I

congratulate with the _Manes_ of our Poet, that this Gentleman has

been sparing in _indulging his private Sense_; for He, who tampers

with an Author whom he does not understand, must do it at the

Expence of his Subject. I have made it evident throughout my

Remarks, that he has frequently inflicted a Wound where he intended

a Cure. He has acted with regard to our Author, as an Editor, whom

LIPSIUS mentions, did with regard to MARTIAL; _Inventus est nescio

quis _Popa_, qui non _vitia_ ejus, sed _ipsum_, excîdit._ He has

attack’d him like an unhandy _Slaughterman_; and not lopp’d off the

_Errors_, but the _Poet_.

[Sidenote: Praise sometimes an Injury.]

When this is found to be the Fact, how absurd must appear the

Praises of such an Editor? It seems a moot Point, whether Mr. _Pope_

has done most Injury to _Shakespeare_ as his Editor and Encomiast;

or Mr. _Rymer_ done him Service as his Rival and Censurer. Were it

every where the true Text, which That Editor in his late pompous

Edition gave us, the Poet deserv’d not the large Encomiums bestow’d

by him: nor, in that Case, is _Rymer_’s Censure of the Barbarity of

his Thoughts, and the Impropriety of his Expressions, groundless.

They have Both shewn themselves in an equal _Impuissance_ of

suspecting or amending the corrupted Passages: and tho’ it be

neither Prudence to censure, or commend, what one does not

understand; yet if a Man must do one when he plays the Critick,

the latter is the more ridiculous Office. And by That _Shakespeare_

suffers most. For the natural Veneration, which we have for him,

makes us apt to swallow whatever is given us as _his_, and let off

with Encomiums; and hence we quit all Suspicions of Depravity: On

the contrary, the Censure of so divine an Author sets us upon his

Defence; and this produces an exact Scrutiny and Examination, which

ends in finding out and discriminating the true from the spurious.

It is not with any secret Pleasure, that I so frequently animadvert

on Mr. _Pope_ as a Critick; but there are Provocations, which a Man

can never quite forget. His Libels have been thrown out with so much

Inveteracy, that, not to dispute whether they _should_ come from a

_Christian_, they leave it a Question whether they _could_ come from

a _Man_. I should be loth to doubt, as _Quintus Serenus_ did in a

like Case,

Sive homo, seu similis turpissima bestia nobis,

Vulnera dente dedit.

The Indignation, perhaps, for being represented a _Blockhead_, may

be as strong in Us as it is in the Ladies for a Reflexion on their

_Beauties_. It is certain, I am indebted to Him for some _flagrant

Civilities_; and I shall willingly devote a part of my Life to the

honest Endeavour of quitting Scores: with this Exception however,

that I will not return those Civilities in his _peculiar_ Strain,

but confine myself, at lead, to the Limits of _common Decency_.

I shall ever think it better to want _Wit_, than to want _Humanity_:

and impartial Posterity may, perhaps, be of my Opinion.

[Sidenote: The old Editions faulty, whence.]

But, to return to my Subject; which now calls upon me to inquire

into those Causes, to which the Depravations of my Author originally

may be assign’d. We are to consider him as a Writer, of whom no

authentic Manuscript was extant; as a Writer, whose Pieces were

dispersedly perform’d on the several _Stages_ then in Being. And it

was the Custom of those Days for the Poets to take a Price of the

_Players_ for the Pieces They from time to time furnish’d; and

thereupon it was suppos’d, they had no farther Right to print them

without the Consent of the _Players_. As it was the Interest of the

_Companies_ to keep their Plays unpublish’d, when any one succeeded,

there was a Contest betwixt the Curiosity of the Town, who demanded

to see it in Print, and the Policy of the _Stagers_, who wish’d

to secrete it within their own Walls. Hence, many Pieces were

taken down in Short-hand, and imperfectly copied by Ear, from

a _Representation_: Others were printed from piece-meal Parts,

surreptitiously obtain’d from the Theatres, uncorrect, and without

the Poet’s Knowledge. To some of these Causes we owe the train of

Blemishes, that deform those Pieces which stole singly into the

World in our Author’s Life-time.

There are still other Reasons, which may be suppos’d to have

affected the whole Set. When the _Players_ took upon them to publish

his Works intire, every Theatre was ransack’d to supply the Copy;

and _Parts_ collected which had gone thro’ as many Changes as

Performers, either from Mutilations or Additions made to them. Hence

we derive many Chasms and Incoherences in the Sense and Matter.

Scenes were frequently transposed, and shuffled out of their true

Place, to humour the Caprice or suppos’d Convenience of some

particular Actor. Hence much Confusion and Impropriety has attended,

and embarras’d, the Business and Fable. For there ever have been,

and ever will be in Playhouses, a Set of assuming Directors, who

know better than the Poet himself the Connexion and Dependance of

his Scenes; where Matter is defective, or Superfluities to be

retrench’d; Persons, that have the Fountain of _Inspiration_ as

peremptorily in them, as Kings have That of _Honour_. To these

obvious Causes of Corruption it must be added, that our Author has

lain under the Disadvantage of having his Errors propagated and

multiplied by Time: because, for near a Century; his Works were

republish’d from the faulty Copies without the assistance of any

intelligent Editor: which has been the Case likewise of many a

_Classic_ Writer.

[Sidenote: The Editor’s Drift and Method.]

[Sidenote*: Difference betwixt this Edition and Dr. _Bentley_’s

_Milton_.]

The Nature of any Distemper once found has generally been the

immediate Step to a Cure. _Shakespeare_’s Case has in a great

Measure resembled That of a corrupt _Classic_; and, consequently,

the Method of Cure was likewise to bear a Resemblance. By what

Means, and with what Success, this Cure has been effected on ancient

Writers, is too well known, and needs no formal Illustration. The

Reputation consequent on Tasks of that Nature invited me to attempt

the Method here; with this View, the Hopes of restoring to the

Publick their greatest Poet in his Original Purity: after having so

long lain in a Condition that was a Disgrace to common Sense. To

this End I have ventur’d on a Labour, that is the first Assay of

the kind on any modern Author whatsoever. For the late Edition of

_Milton_ by the Learned *Dr. _Bentley_ is, in the main, a Performance

of another Species. It is plain, it was the Intention of that

Great Man rather to Correct and pare off the Excrescencies of

the _Paradise Lost_, in the manner that _Tucca_ and _Varius_ were

employ’d to criticize the _Æneis_ of _Virgil_, than to restore

corrupted Passages. Hence, therefore, may be seen either the

Iniquity or Ignorance of his Censurers, who, from some Expressions,

would make us believe, the _Doctor_ every where gives us his

Corrections as the Original Text of the Author; whereas the chief

Turn of his Criticism is plainly to shew the World, that if _Milton_

did not write as He would have him, he ought to have wrote so.

I thought proper to premise this Observation to the Readers, as it

will shew that the Critic on _Shakespeare_ is of a quite different

Kind. His genuine Text is religiously adher’d to, and the numerous

Faults and Blemishes, purely his own, are left as they were found.

Nothing is alter’d, but what by the clearest Reasoning can be

proved a Corruption of the true Text; and the Alteration, a real

Restoration of the genuine Reading. Nay, so strictly have I strove

to give the true Reading, tho’ sometimes not to the Advantage of my

Author, that I have been ridiculously ridicul’d for it by Those, who

either were iniquitously for turning every thing to my Disadvantage;

or else were totally ignorant of the true Duty of an Editor.

The Science of Criticism, as far as it affects an Editor, seems

to be reduced to these three Classes; the Emendation of corrupt

Passages; the Explanation of obscure and difficult ones; and an

Inquiry into the Beauties and Defects of Composition. This Work is

principally confin’d to the two former Parts: tho’ there are some

Specimens interspers’d of the latter Kind, as several of the

Emendations were best supported, and several of the Difficulties

best explain’d, by taking notice of the Beauties and Defects of

the Composition peculiar to this Immortal Poet. But This was but

occasional, and for the sake only of perfecting the two other Parts,

which were the proper Objects of the Editor’s Labour. The third lies

open for every willing Undertaker: and I shall be pleas’d to see it

the Employment of a masterly Pen.

It must necessarily happen, as I have formerly observ’d, that where

the Assistance of Manuscripts is wanting to set an Author’s Meaning

right, and rescue him from those Errors which have been transmitted

down thro’ a Series of incorrect Editions, and a long Intervention

of Time, many Passages must be desperate, and past a Cure; and

their true Sense irretrievable either to Care or the Sagacity of

Conjecture. But is there any Reason therefore to say, That because

All cannot be retriev’d, All ought to be left desperate? We should

shew very little Honesty, or Wisdom, to play the Tyrants with an

Author’s Text; to raze, alter, innovate, and overturn, at all

Adventures, and to the utter Detriment of his Sense and Meaning:

But to be so very reserved and cautious, as to interpose no Relief

or Conjecture, where it manifestly labours and cries out for

Assistance, seems, on the other hand, an indolent Absurdity.

But because the Art of Criticism, both by Those who cannot form a

true Judgment of its Effects, nor can penetrate into its Causes,

(which takes in a great Number besides the Ladies;) is esteem’d only

an arbitrary capricious Tyranny exercis’d on Books; I think

proper to subjoin a Word or two about those Rules on which I have

proceeded, and by which I have regulated myself in this Edition. By

This, I flatter myself, it will appear, my Emendations are so far

from being arbitrary or capricious, that They are establish’d with

a very high Degree of moral Certainty.

As there are very few Pages in _Shakespeare_, upon which some

Suspicions of Depravity do not reasonably arise; I have thought it

my Duty, in the first place, by a diligent and laborious Collation

to take in the Assistances of all the older Copies.

In his _Historical Plays_, whenever our _English_ Chronicles, and in

his Tragedies when _Greek_ or _Roman_ Story, could give any Light;

no Pains have been omitted to set Passages right by comparing my

Author with his Originals: for, as I have frequently observed, he

was a close and accurate Copier where-ever his _Fable_ was founded

on _History_.

Where-ever the Author’s Sense is clear and discoverable, (tho’,

perchance, low and trivial;) I have not by any Innovation tamper’d

with his Text; out of an Ostentation of endeavouring to make him

speak better than the Old Copies have done.

Where, thro’ all the former Editions, a Passage has labour’d under

flat Nonsense and invincible Darkness, if, by the Addition or

Alteration of a Letter or two, I have restored to Him both Sense

and Sentiment, such Corrections, I am persuaded, will need no

Indulgence.

And whenever I have taken a greater Latitude and Liberty in

amending, I have constantly endeavoured to support my Corrections

and Conjectures by parallel Passages and Authorities from himself,

the surest Means of expounding any Author whatsoever. _Cette voïe

d’interpreter un Autheur par lui-même est plus sure que tous les

Commentaires_, says a very learned _French_ Critick.

As to my _Notes_, (from which the common and learned Readers of our

Author, I hope, will derive some Pleasure;) I have endeavour’d to

give them a Variety in some Proportion to their Number. Where-ever

I have ventur’d at an Emendation, a _Note_ is constantly subjoin’d

to justify and assert the Reason of it. Where I only offer a

Conjecture, and do not disturb the Text, I fairly set forth my

Grounds for such Conjecture, and submit it to Judgment. Some Remarks

are spent in explaining Passages, Where the Wit or Satire depends

on an obscure Point of History: Others, where Allusions are to

Divinity, Philosophy, or other Branches of Science. Some are added

to shew, where there is a Suspicion of our Author having borrowed

from the Antients: Others, to shew where he is rallying his

Contemporaries; or where He himself is rallied by them. And some are

necessarily thrown in, to explain an obscure and obsolete _Term_,

_Phrase_, or _Idea_. I once intended to have added a complete and

copious _Glossary_; but as I have been importun’d, and am prepar’d,

to give a correct Edition of our Author’s POEMS, (in which many

Terms occur that are not to be met with in his _Plays_,) I thought a

_Glossary_ to all _Shakespeare_’s Works more proper to attend that

Volume.

In reforming an infinite Number of Passages in the _Pointing_, where

the Sense was before quite lost, I have frequently subjoin’d Notes

to shew the _deprav’d_, and to prove the _reform’d_, Pointing: a

Part of Labour in this Work which I could very willingly have spared

myself. May it not be objected, why then have you burthen’d us with

these Notes? The Answer is obvious, and, if I mistake not, very

material. Without such Notes, these Passages in subsequent Editions

would be liable, thro’ the Ignorance of Printers and Correctors, to

fall into the old Confusion: Whereas, a Note on every one hinders

all possible Return to Depravity; and for ever secures them in a

State of Purity and Integrity not to be lost or forfeited.

[Sidenote*: Causes of Obscurities in _Shakespeare_.]

Preface to the Works of Shakespeare (1734) · 第 2 / 4 段