CHAPTER XIV.

THE BIOGRAPHY OF SHAKSPEARE CONTINUED TO THE CLOSE OF HIS

RESIDENCE IN LONDON.

Various particulars relative to the personal history of Shakspeare,

in addition to those which terminated his biography in the country,

having been detailed in the chapters that record his commencement as

an actor[581:A], the composition of his poems[581:B], and his first

efforts as a dramatic writer[581:C], we have now to collect the few

circumstances of his life which time has spared to us, during the most

active season of its duration, resuming our narrative at a period when

the capital was under considerable alarm from the prevalence of the

plague, and from the numerous conspiracies which were entered into

against the life of the Queen. Shakspeare had been exposed, during the

year of his birth, to great risk from the plague at Stratford, and its

recurrence in 1593 seems to have made so deep an impression upon him,

that he has alluded to it in more than one of his plays; particularly

in his _Romeo and Juliet_ written in this very year, where he mentions

the practice of sealing up the doors of houses, in which "the

infectious pestilence did reign."[581:D] It is probable that the effect

on his mind might have been rendered more powerful, by the recollected

narrative of those who had tended his infancy, and who, no doubt, had

often told him of the danger which threatened the dawn of his existence.

We have found that, on his arrival in London, his first employment was

that of an actor, a profession which, we certainly know, he continued

to exercise for, at least, seventeen years. That he was by no means

partial, however, to this occupation, nay that he bitterly regretted

the necessity which compelled him to have recourse to it, as a mode of

procuring subsistence, may be fairly deduced from the language of his

ninety-first sonnet:—

"O for my sake do you with fortune chide,

The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,

That did not better for my life provide,

_Than publick means, which publick manners breeds_.

Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,

And almost thence my nature is subdu'd

To what it works in."

It appears strongly indeed, from the best of all evidence, that of

his own words, that his early progress in life was thwarted by many

obstacles, and accompanied by severe struggles, by poverty, contumely,

and neglect. This he has emphatically told us, not only in one, but in

several places, and in terms so expressive as to make us sympathize

acutely with his sorrows. Yet we perceive him bearing up under his

difficulties with a noble and independent spirit, and contrasting the

world's oppression with the solace of private friendship. Thus, in that

beautiful sonnet, the twenty-ninth, which has been noticed in another

place, the transition from despair to hope is finely painted:—

"When _in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes_,

I all alone beweep my out-cast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope.—

Yet in these thoughts _myself almost despising_,

Haply I think on thee,—and then my state

(Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate:"

and again, in sonnet the thirty-seventh,—

"As a decrepit father takes delight

To see his active child do deeds of youth,

So, I _made lame by fortune's dearest spite_

Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;—

_So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis'd_,

Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,

That I in thy abundance am suffic'd,

And by a part of all thy glory live."

That, by the salutary though severe lessons of adversity, he had

learnt to conquer his misfortunes, and to despise the shafts of vulgar

scandal, will be evident from the two subsequent passages:—

"Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;

Now _while the world is bent my deeds to cross_,

Join with the _spite of fortune_, make me bow,

And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath scap'd this sorrow,

Come in the rearward of a _conquer'd woe_."

Sonnet 90.

"Your love and pity doth the impression fill

Which _vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow_;

For what care I who calls me well or ill,

So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?—

In so profound abysm I throw all care

Of other's voices, that _my adders sense

To critick and to flatterer stopped are_."

Sonnet 112.

These complaints and consolations were, no doubt, written during the

first _ten_ years of his residence in London, while his reputation, as

a poet, was yet assailable, and while the patronage of Lord Southampton

was his only shield against the jealousy and traduction of illiberal

competitors, whether off or on the stage. But the fame arising from his

poems, and from the dramas of _Romeo and Juliet_, and _King Richard the

Third_, had, in 1596, most assuredly secured him from any apprehensions

of permanent injury; more especially as, soon after this period, the

encouragement and support of _William, Earl of Pembroke_, and _Philip,

Earl of Montgomery_, who, as the players tell us, in their dedication

of the first folio, _had prosecuted our poet's plays, and their author

living, with so much favour_[583:A], were added to the protecting

influence of Southampton.

It was in this year, namely 1596, that Shakspeare's feelings as a

father were put to a severe trial, by the loss of his only son Hamnet,

who died in the month of August, at the age of twelve—a deprivation

which, however sustained with fortitude, must have been long deplored.

He was now residing, it would appear from evidence referred to by Mr.

Malone[584:A], near the Bear-Garden in Southwark, and in the following

year (1597) purchased of William Underhill Esquire, one of the best

houses in his native town of Stratford, which, having repaired and

improved, he denominated New Place.[584:B] Whether this was the

purchase in which he is said to have been so materially assisted by

Lord Southampton, cannot positively be affirmed; but as he had not long

emerged from his difficulties, it is highly probable that on this, as

well as on subsequent occasions, he was indebted to the bounty of his

patron.[585:A]

To the year 1598 has been commonly assigned the commencement of

the intimacy between our author and Ben Jonson. This epoch rests

upon the authority of Mr. Rowe, who informs us, that "Shakspeare's

acquaintance with Ben Jonson began with a remarkable piece of humanity

and good-nature. Mr. Jonson, who was at that time _altogether unknown

to the world_, had offered one of his plays to the players to have it

acted; and the persons into whose hands it was put, after having turned

it carelessly and superciliously over, was just upon the point of

returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it would be of no

service to their 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

public."[586:A]

That this kind office was in perfect unison with the general character

of Shakspeare, will readily be admitted, yet there is much reason to

believe that the whole account is without foundation; for, as we have

related, in the last chapter, _Every Man in his Humour_, which is

supposed by all the editors and commentators to be the play alluded

to by Rowe, was first performed at the Rose theatre; and "that Jonson

was 'altogether unknown to the world,'" remarks Mr. Gifford, "is a

palpable untruth. At this period," (1598) he continues, "Jonson was as

well known as Shakspeare, and perhaps better. He was poor indeed, and

very poor, and a mere retainer of the theatres; but he was intimately

acquainted with Henslowe and Alleyn, and with all the performers at

their houses. He was familiar with Drayton and Chapman, and Rowley,

and Middleton, and Fletcher; he had been writing for three years, in

conjunction with Marston, and Decker, and Chettle, and Porter, and

Bird, and with most of the poets of the day: he was celebrated by Meres

as one of the principal writers of tragedy; and he had long been rising

in reputation as a scholar and a poet among the most distinguished

characters of the age. At this moment he was employed on _Every Man out

of his Humour_, which was acted in 1599, and, in the elegant dedication

of that comedy to the 'Gentlemen of the Inns of Court,' he says, 'When

I wrote this poem, I had _friendship with divers_ in your Societies,

who, as they were _great names_ in learning, so were they no less

examples of living. Of them and _then_, that I say no more, it was not

despised.'—And yet, Jonson was, at this time, 'altogether unknown to

the world!' and offered a virgin comedy (which had already been three

years on the stage) to a player in the humble hope that it might be

accepted."[586:B]

The presumption is, that our poet and Jonson were acquainted anterior

to 1598, probably as early as 1595, and that the dramatic reputation of

Ben was the chief motive which induced the company at the Black Friars

to procure the alterations in, and to secure the property of, _Every

Man in his Humour_. Such even is the opinion of Mr. Malone himself,

when he has once forgotten the preposterous charge of _ingratitude_, on

the part of Jonson, for this _imaginary introduction_ to the stage by

Shakspeare; for in a note, on an entry of Mr. Henslowe's, which runs

thus:—"11 of Maye 1597, at the comedy of umers (humours) 11," that is,

acted eleven times since November, 1596, he observes,—"Perhaps Ben

Jonson's _Every Man in his Humour_." It will appear hereafter, that he

had money dealings with Mr. Henslowe, the manager of this theatre, and

that he wrote for him. The play might have been _afterwards purchased

from this company by the Lord Chamberlain's Servants_ (that is, by

Shakspeare, Burbage, Heminge, &c.) by whom it was acted in 1598[587:A];

an inconsistency which has been keenly and justly animadverted upon by

Mr. Gifford.[587:B]

Two domestic circumstances mark the next year of our author's life; for

in 1599, his father obtained from the Heralds' Office a confirmation

of his Coat of Arms, and his sister Joan married Mr. William Hart, a

hatter in Stratford, occurrences which, in the great dearth of events

unfortunately incident to our subject, are of some importance.

If an inference, however, made by Sir John Sinclair, could be

considered as legitimately drawn, this year might be esteemed one of

the most important in the poet's life; for, in the twentieth volume

of his Statistical Account of Scotland, when speaking of the local

traditions respecting Macbeth's castle at Dunsinnan, he infers, from

their coincidence with the drama, that Shakspeare, "in his capacity

of actor, travelled to Scotland in 1599, and collected on the spot

materials for the exercise of his imagination." "Every attempt,"

remarks Mr. Stoddart, who has introduced this anecdote into his

interesting Tour, "to illustrate the slightest circumstance, concerning

such a mind, deserves our gratitude; but in this instance, conjecture

seems to have gone its full length, if not to have overstepped the

modesty of nature. The probability of Shakspeare's ever having been in

Scotland, is very remote. It should seem, by his uniformly accenting

the name of this spot Dunsináne, that he could not possibly have taken

it from the mouths of the country-people, who as uniformly accent

it Dunsínnan. Every one knows, with what ease local tradition is so

modified, as to suit public history; and it is probable, that what Sir

John heard in 1772, was a superstructure raised upon the drama itself.

Amid the blaze of Shakspeare's genius, small praise is lost; but it

is, perhaps, more honourable to his intellectual energies to suppose,

that so much minute information was collected from books, or from

conversation, than from an actual acquaintance with the place."[588:A]

Though we by no means contend for the validity of the inference, yet

we must observe, that one of the principal objections of Mr. Stoddart

is unfounded; for Shakspeare certainly was familiar with both modes of

pronunciation, and has given us a specimen of the popular accent in the

following well-known passage:—

"Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until

Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill

Shall come against him."

Neither do we think, that his genius would have suffered any

deterioration, nor his drama any loss of interest, had he actually

painted from local observation.[588:B]

If we be correct in attributing _Much Ado about Nothing_ to the year

1599, it is here that some notice should be taken of an anecdote

recorded by Aubrey, who, meaning to allude to the character of Dogberry

in this play, though by mistake he refers to the _Midsummer-Night's

Dream_, says, that "the humour of the constable he (Shakspeare)

happened to take at Grendon, in Bucks, which is the roade from London

to Stratford, and there was living that constable about 1642, when I

first came to Oxon. Mr. Jos. Howe is of that parish, and knew him.

Ben Jonson and he did gather humours of men dayly, wherever they

came."[589:A]

That Shakspeare was accustomed to visit Stratford annually, has

been already noticed[589:B]; and we learn from Antony Wood, that in

performing these journeys, he used to bait at the Crown-Inn, in Oxford,

which was then kept by John Davenant, the father of the poet. Antony

represents Mrs. Davenant as both beautiful and accomplished, and her

husband as a lover of plays, and a great admirer of Shakspeare.[589:C]

The frequent visits of the bard, and the charms of his landlady, appear

to have given birth to some scandalous surmises; for Oldys, repeating

Wood's story, adds, on the authority of Betterton and Pope, that "their

son, young Will. Davenant, (afterwards Sir William,) was then a little

school-boy in the town, of about seven or eight years old, 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_-father

Shakspeare. There's a good boy, said the other, but have a care that

you don't take _God's_ name in vain."[589:D] It has also been said,

that Sir William had the weakness to feel gratified by the publicity of

the supposition.[589:E]

It is very probable that, in 1600, Shakspeare might so time his annual

visit to Stratford, as to be present at the christening of his nephew,

William Hart, his sister's eldest son; who, according to the Register,

was baptized on the 28th of the August of this year, and who, together

with his two brothers, Thomas and Michael, is remembered in the poet's

will, by a legacy of five pounds.

The subsequent year exhibits our bard in great favour at court. The

Queen had been delighted with the _Two Parts of Henry the Fourth_,

and honoured their author with a command to bring forward Falstaff in

another play. Tradition says, this was executed in a fortnight, and

afforded Her Majesty the most entire satisfaction. The approbation and

encouragement, indeed, of the two sovereigns under whose reigns he

flourished, was a subject of contemporary notoriety; for Jonson, in his

celebrated eulogy, thus apostrophises his departed friend:—

"Sweet swan of Avon, what a sight 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_."

That Elizabeth "gave him many gracious marks of her favour," has been

mentioned by Rowe as a matter of no doubt; and he elsewhere observes,

that "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[590:A];" an observation which ushers in the acknowledgment of

Southampton's well-known generosity.

The pleasure arising from this tide of success must have been, in no

slight degree, damped by the sorrow which a son so truly great and

good, must have felt on the loss of his father. This worthy man, of

whom, in the opening of our work, some account will be found, expired

on the 8th of September, 1601, leaving a name immortalised by the

celebrity of his offspring.

In 1602, no other trace of our author is discoverable, independent

of his literary exertions, than that, on the 1st day of May, he

purchased, in the town and parish of Stratford, one hundred and seven

acres of land, for the sum of 320_l._, which lands appear to have been

indissolubly connected with his former purchase of New Place, and to

have descended with it, until the extinction of the latter by Mr.

Gastrell.[591:A]

The year following, however, brought an accession of dignity and power;

for no sooner had James gotten possession of the English throne, than

he granted a Licence to the Company at the Globe, which bears date

the 19th of May, 1603, and being entitled "Pro Laurentio Fletcher et

Willielmo Shakespeare et aliis," gives us reason to conclude, that

the persons thus distinguished were, if not joint managers, at least

leaders in the concern.[591:B]

It was about this period also that Shakspeare may, upon good grounds,

be supposed to have taken his farewel of the stage _as an actor_;

relinquishing this profession of which he appears not to have been

very fond, for the purpose of more closely superintending the general

concerns of the theatre, of which his writings continued to be the

chief support. One strong motive for this deduction has arisen from the

circumstance, that his name, as a performer, is no where visible beyond

the era of Jonson's _Sejanus_, in which play, first acted in 1603, it

is found in the list of the principal comedians, while in _The Fox_,

published only two years afterwards, performed at the same theatre, and

by the same company, he is not mentioned, though the list of players

is, as usual, inserted. That the term _fellow_, which continued to be

mutually used by Shakspeare and the comedians of the Globe, cannot

indicate a contrary conclusion, is evident from the language of the

poet himself, who, in his will, though written three years after all

connection, on his part, with the theatre had been given up, still

speaks of Hemynge, Burbage, and Condell as _his fellows_.

To nearly the same epoch we may attribute the _friendly_ association

of Shakspeare and Jonson in the celebrated club at the Mermaid, a form

of society to which, from its ease and independency, Englishmen have

always been peculiarly partial. The institution in question originated

with Sir Walter Raleigh, and, as Mr. Gifford has well observed,

speaking of Jonson's resort to it about the year 1603, "combined

more talent and genius, perhaps, than ever met together before or

since;—here," he adds, "for many years, he (Jonson) regularly repaired

with Shakspeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, Selden, Cotton, Carew, Martin,

Donne, and many others, whose names, even at this distant period, call

up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect. Here, in the full flow

and confidence of friendship, the lively and interesting 'wit-combats'

took place between Shakspeare and our author; and hither, in probable

allusion to them, Beaumont fondly lets his thoughts wander, in his

letter to Jonson, from the country:—

——————— "What things have we seen,

Done at the MERMAID! heard words that have been

So nimble, and so full of subtle flame,

As if that every one from whom they came,

Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, &c."[592:A]

For the expression "wit-combats," in this interesting passage, we must

refer to Fuller, who, describing the character of the bard of Avon,

says: "Many were the wit-combates between Shakspeare and Ben Jonson. I

behold them like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man of war.

Master Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid

but slow in his performances, Shakspeare, like the latter, lesser in

bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about,

and take advantage of all winds by the quickness of his wit and

invention."[592:B]

With what delight should we have hung over any well authenticated

instances of these "wit-combats!" but, unfortunately, nothing, upon

which we can depend, has descended to us. How much is it to be

regretted that Fuller, who, no doubt, from the manner in which he has

mentioned the subject, had many of these lively sallies fresh in his

recollection, has not been more communicative! What tradition, however,

or rather, perhaps, what fabrication, has left us, of this kind, will

be found in the notes.[593:A]

It would appear that Shakspeare was now rapidly accumulating property;

he had purchased, we have seen, New Place in 1597, a hundred and seven

acres of land in 1602, and in 1605 he became the purchaser of the lease

of the moiety of the great and small tithes of Stratford, for the sum

of 440_l._[594:A], a pretty strong proof of the success which had

accompanied the exercise of his talents, both as an _actor_ and a poet,

and a complete one of his having overcome the difficulties which, for

some years after his arrival in London, had so oppressively encumbered

his efforts.

We may add, that he was gratified this year by the affectionate

remembrance of his former associate Augustine Phillips, who, in his

Will, proved on the 13th of May, 1605, gives and bequeaths to his

"Fellowe Wīllm Shakespeare a thirty shillings piece in gould."[594:B]

It was the fashion at this period among the poets, to compliment a

monarch, who was peculiarly open to flattery, especially on the subject

of his genealogy, and on the union of the three kingdoms in his own

person; a species of panegyric in which our author had been preceded

by Daniel, Drayton, and Ben Jonson, and even by such grave characters

as Dugdale and Wake.[595:A] It was natural, therefore, for Shakspeare,

who had been under some obligation to James, to express his sense

of it in a similar way, and he has accordingly, through the medium

of his _Macbeth_, which we conceive to have been performed in 1606,

represented James as descended from Banquo, a character which, for this

purpose, he has drawn, contrary to his historical authorities, noble

and blameless. James, as Dr. Farmer[595:B] thinks, was so delighted

with the line which painted him as carrying "two-fold balls and treble

sceptres," that it was on this occasion he was induced to acknowledge

the compliment by a letter to the bard from his own hand; an anecdote

which seems entitled to full credit, as it originated, Oldys tells us,

with Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, who had it immediately from Sir

William D'Avenant, in whose hands the letter long remained.[595:C]

This year has been also rendered memorable in the biography of our

poet by the publication of a drama called "The Return from Parnassus,"

which had been acted by the students of St. John's College, Cambridge,

as early as 1602. To a passage in this very curious production is to

be ascribed all the idle tales which have been circulated with so much

industry and avidity relative to a supposed quarrel between our author

and Ben Jonson, in doing which, though the principal object has been

to substantiate a charge of envy and malignancy against the latter,

the mode in which the attempt is executed has been such as would, were

the premises true, reflect no credit on the former. But the whole is a

tissue of the most groundless and indefensible scandal, and we stand

aghast at the motives which could induce such persevering hostility

against the very man who, more than all others, had been the steady and

professed eulogist of the poet whom these commentators sally forth to

protect.

The passage, however, as equally applicable and important to both

these great men, it will be necessary to transcribe. Burbage and Kempe,

Shakspeare's fellow-comedians, are introduced conversing about the

histrionic powers of the students of Cambridge, the latter ridiculing

and the former defending their attempts, by observing, "that a little

teaching will mend their faults; and it may be, besides, they will be

able to pen a part;" to which Kempe, who seems here an object of irony,

replies,—

"Few of the university pen plays well; they smell too much of that

writer Ovid, and that writer _Metamorphosis_, and talk too much of

Proserpina and Juppiter. 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 has given him a purge that made him bewray

his credit."[596:A]

"When an object is placed too near to the eye," observes Mr. Gilchrist,

commenting on this quotation, "the vision is strained and impaired,

and the object obscured or distorted: if the commentators had viewed

this passage 'as others use,' they would have found in the numerous

dramas published anterior to the above passage, the instruments by

which he put Ben down; and, in their various excellence, the means by

which he threw the claims of his competitor into the shade. The passage

has no reference to _personal_ animosity; it was a just testimony to

the superior merit of 'the poet of nature,' over the writings of more

'learned candidates for fame;' and the well-merited compliment is very

appropriately put into the mouth of Will Kempe, one of Shakspeare's

fellows."[596:B]

It is remarkable, that with the exception of Rowe, who, however, soon

retracted the accusation, none of the editors of, and commentators on,

Shakspeare had, previous to Steevens, attempted to prove Jonson the

libeller of his friend. It remained therefore for his commentators of

the last half century to undertake the noble task of heaping a thousand

groundless calumnies on the defenceless head of Shakspeare's dearest

friend, on him whom he most admired, and by whom he was best beloved!

The iteration of these charges, under every form and shape, and

connected with a commentary rendered popular by the text to which it

was appended, had totally poisoned the public mind, when Mr. Gilchrist,

and, still more amply, Mr. Gifford, by hunting these gentlemen through

all their windings and doublings, through all the channels to which

they had recourse for defamation, have produced a refutation of their

charges, and a detection of their practices, more complete, perhaps,

than any other instance of the kind on literary record.[597:A]

Truly delightful must it be to every lover of Shakspeare and of human

nature, to find that the affectionate confidence of our bard was not

thrown away, was not placed on a man worthless and insensible of the

gift, but was returned by honest Ben, however occasionally rough in his

manner and temper, with an attachment amounting to enthusiasm, with a

steadiness which neither years nor infirmities could shake.[598:A]

On the last day of the year 1607, our poet buried at the church of St.

Saviour's, Southwark, his brother Edmond, who, with singular precision,

is entered in the register of that parish as "Edmond Shakspeare, a

_player_," so that, as Mr. Chalmers has observed, "there were two

Shakspeares on the stage during the same period."[598:B]

He had likewise married, on the fifth of June of this year, his

favourite daughter Susanna, to Dr. John Hall, a physician of

considerable skill and reputation in his profession, which he exercised

at Stratford, residing during his father-in-law's life-time in the old

town, but, on his death, removing to New Place, which, with the chief

part of his property, had been left by the poet to Mrs. Hall. Susanna

was, on her nuptials with Dr. Hall, twenty-five years of age, and there

can be little doubt but that her father was present at the celebration

of an event so materially affecting the happiness of his child.[599:A]

It is highly probable, that, independent of his regular annual visit,

family-occurrences frequently drew Shakspeare from London to the purer

atmosphere of his native fields; for, in the year succeeding the

marriage of his daughter, two events of this kind took place, of which

one required his personal attendance. On the 21st of February, 1608,

his grandaughter Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Hall, was baptized[599:B];

and, on the 16th of the October following, he _stood_ godfather for

William Walker, the son of Henry Walker of Stratford, remembering the

child in his will, with twenty shillings in gold, under the title of

his "godson William Walker."[599:C]

The year 1609 is sufficiently commemorated by the general opinion,

that, at this period, Shakspeare planted the _Mulberry Tree_, whose

premature fate has been recorded in a preceding note.

"That Shakspeare planted this tree," observes Mr. Malone, "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 son during the

last and the present 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."[600:A]

That it was planted in the year above-mentioned, seems established by

the facts, that, previous to the epoch in question, mulberry-trees,

though not absolutely unknown in this country, were extremely scarce;

and that, in 1609, King James, with a view to the encouragement of

the silk manufacture, imported many hundred thousand of these trees

from France, dispersing them all over England, accompanied by circular

letters, written to induce the inhabitants to cultivate so useful, and

at the same time so ornamental a production of the vegetable world.

It may safely be inferred, therefore, that our poet, on his visit this

year to Stratford, had, in deference to the recommendation of his

sovereign, as well as from his own taste and inclination, embellished

his garden with this elegant tree.

With the exception of a Writ, issued out of the Stratford Court of

Record, in June, 1610, for a small debt due to our author, scarcely a

vestige of his existence, apart from his works, can be found for the

next three years. This writ, and another issued the preceding year for

a similar purpose, have the subjoined signature of _Greene_, being that

of Thomas Greene, Esq., a cousin of the poet's; who, though resident in

Stratford, and clerk to its corporation, had at the same time chambers

in the Middle Temple, and was a barrister in Chancery. He is entitled

to this notice, as being not only the relation, but the intimate friend

of Shakspeare.[600:B]

We now approach the last year of Shakspeare's abode in London, which,

there is every reason to suppose, continued to be in that part of

it where we found him in 1596; where he assuredly was, according to

Malone, in 1608, and where he no doubt remained, until, as a resident,

he quitted the capital for ever.[601:A] Before he took this step,

however, he became the purchaser of a tenement in Blackfriars, for

which, according to a deed still extant[601:B], he agreed to give one

Henry Walker the sum of 140_l._, of which he paid 80_l._ down, and

mortgaged the premises for the remainder. The property acquired by this

transaction, which took place on the 10th of March, 1613, is in his

will bequeathed to his daughter Susanna, and being there described as

"that messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one John

Robinson dwelleth, situate, lying, and being, in the Blackfriars in

London, near the Wardrobe," was probably let to this tenant soon after

the purchase.

Among the arrangements which such a change of situation would almost

necessarily require, it is reasonable to imagine, that his property

in the Globe theatre would not be forgotten; but as this is neither

mentioned in his will, nor he himself once noticed in the transactions

of the theatre for 1613, we are entitled to infer, that he disposed of

his interest in the concern previous to his leaving London.

That this event took place before the close of 1613, in all probability

during the summer of the year, not only this circumstance relative to

the theatre, and the general tradition, that a few years anterior to

his death, he had left the metropolis for "ease, retirement, and the

conversation of his friends" at Stratford, but two other circumstances

of importance, will lead us to conclude. For, in the first place, it

has been calculated that, at this period, his income from real and

personal property was such, as to enable him to live handsomely in the

country, independent of any profit from the stage[601:C]; and secondly,

we have found sufficient _data_ for believing, that his literary

career was terminated by the production of _The Twelfth Night_, and

that this play was written in 1613.

These considerations, when united, impress us with a perfect

conviction, that when Shakspeare bade adieu to London, he left it

predetermined to devote the residue of his days exclusively to

the cultivation of social and domestic happiness in the shades of

retirement.

FOOTNOTES:

[581:A] Vide Part II. Chap. 1.

[581:B] Part II. Chaps. 2. & 5.

[581:C] Part II. Chap. 9.

[581:D] Act v. sc. 2. Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xx. p. 236. See also

The Two Gentlemen of Verona, act ii. sc. 1.

[583:A] Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 164.; and Chalmers's

Apology, p. 599.

[584:A] See his "Inquiry," p. 215.

[584:B] Of this mansion, which Dugdale informs us was originally built

by Sir Hugh Clopton in the time of Henry the Seventh, and was then "a

fair-house, built of brick and timber," and continued in the Clopton

family until 1563, when it was purchased by William Bott, and resold in

1570 to William Underhill, Esq., Mr. Wheler has given us the following

account, subsequent to the decease of our poet:—"On Shakspeare's

death, it came to his daughter Mrs. Hall, for her life; and then to her

only child Elizabeth, afterwards Lady Barnard; after whose death New

Place was sold, in 1675, to Sir Edward Walker, Knt. Garter, King at

Arms, who died the 20th of February, 1676-7; and under his Will, dated

the 29th of June, 1676, it came to his only child, Barbara, the wife of

Sir John Clopton, Knt. of Clopton, in this parish. Their younger son,

Sir Hugh Clopton, Knt. a barrister at law, and one of the heralds at

arms, afterwards became possessed of New Place, which he modernised by

internal and external alterations; and in 1742, entertained Macklin,

Garrick, and Dr. Delany, under Shakspeare's mulberry tree. By Sir

Hugh's son-in-law and executor, Henry Talbot, Esq. brother to the

Lord Chancellor Talbot, it was sold to the Rev. Francis Gastrell,

vicar of Frodsham in Cheshire; who, if we may judge by his actions,

felt no sort of pride or pleasure in this charming retirement, no

consciousness of his being possessed of the sacred ground which the

muses had consecrated to the memory of their favourite poet. The

celebrated mulberry-tree planted by Shakspeare's hand became first an

object of his dislike, because it subjected him to answer the frequent

importunities of travellers, whose zeal might prompt them to visit it,

and to hope that they might meet inspiration under its shade. In an

evil hour, the sacrilegious priest ordered the tree, then remarkably

large, and at its full growth, to be cut down; which was no sooner

done, than it was cleft to pieces for fire-wood: this took place in

1756, to the great regret and vexation, not only of the inhabitants,

but of every admirer of our bard. The greater part of it was, however,

soon after purchased by Mr. Thomas Sharp, watch-maker, of Stratford;

who, well acquainted with the value set upon it by the world, turned

it much to his advantage, by converting every fragment into small

boxes, goblets, tooth-pick cases, tobacco-stoppers, and numerous other

articles. Nor did New Place long escape the destructive hand of Mr.

Gastrell; who, being compelled to pay the monthly assessments towards

the maintenance of the poor, (some of which he expected to avoid,

because he resided part of the year at Lichfield, though his servants

continued in the house at Stratford during his absence,) in the heat

of his anger declared, _that_ house should never be assessed again;

and to give his imprecation due effect, and wishing, as it seems, to

be "damned to everlasting fame," the demolition of New Place soon

followed; for, in 1759, he rased the building to the ground, disposed

of the materials, and left Stratford amidst the rage and curses of

its inhabitants. Thus was the town deprived of one of its principal

ornaments, and most valued relics, by a man, who, had he been possessed

of a true sense, and a veneration for the memory of our bard, would

have rather preserved whatever particularly concerned their great and

immortal owner, than ignorantly have trodden the ground which had been

cultivated by the greatest genius in the world, without feeling those

emotions which naturally arise in the breast of the generous enthusiast.

"The site of New Place was afterwards added to the adjoining garden,

by its illiberal proprietor; under whose Will, made on the 2d of

October, 1768, it came to his widow, Mrs. Jane Gastrell; who, in

1775, sold it to William Hunt, Esq. late of this town; from whose

family it was purchased by Messrs. Battersbee and Morris, bankers,

of Stratford."—Wheler's History of Stratford, p. 135.; and Guide to

Stratford, pp. 45. 47.

[585:A] It is more probable that he was assisted on various occasions

by His Lordship, than that the large sum, mentioned by tradition, was

bestowed at once, and at a period, too, when it was less required.

[586:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 67, 68.

[586:B] Gifford's Jonson, vol. i. Memoirs, pp. xliii. xliv.

xlv.—Shakspeare, whose name stands at the head of the principal

performers in Every Man in his Humour, is supposed to have acted the

part of Knowell.

[587:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 365.

[587:B] Gifford's Jonson, vol. i. p. cclxxix.

[588:A] Remarks on Local Scenery and Manners in Scotland, 8vo. vol. ii.

pp. 197, 198.

[588:B] It is a remarkable circumstance, however, that James is said,

during this very year (1599), to have solicited Queen Elizabeth to send

a company of English comedians to Edinburgh.—Vide Reed's Shakspeare,

vol. iii. p. 51.

[589:A] Bodleian Letters, vol. iii. p. 307.

[589:B] Vide Part II. Chapter 1.

[589:C] Athenæ Oxon. vol. ii. p. 292. edit. 1692.

[589:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 124.

[589:E] Ibid. vol. iii. p. 209.

[590:A] Vide Rowe's Life of Shakspeare, in Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i.

pp. 65, 66.

[591:A] Wheler's Guide to Stratford upon Avon, p. 18.

[591:B] See this Licence given at length in our History of the Stage,

Part II. Chapter 7.

[592:A] Gifford's Jonson, vol. i. Memoirs, pp. lxv. lxvi.

[592:B] Worthies, folio edition, part iii. p. 126.

[593:A] Were the repartees, however, of which time has deprived us,

no better than those that we have now to communicate, it must be

confessed, that the two bards have no great reason to complain of the

loss. "Shakspeare," relates Capell, "was god-father to one of Ben

Jonson's children, and after the christening, being in deep study,

Jonson came to cheer him up; and asked him why he was so melancholy? No

faith, Ben, says he, not I; but I have been considering a great while

what should be the fittest gift for me to bestow upon my god-child,

and I have resolved at last. I prithee what, says he? I'faith, Ben,

I'll e'en give her a dozen good Latin (latten) spoons, and thou shalt

_translate_ them."—Notes on Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 94.

The second of these _morceaux_ is, if possible, still worse than the

preceding: "Mr. Ben Jonson and Mr. William Shakspeare being merrie at a

tavern, Mr. Jonson begins this for his epitaph,

"Here lies Ben Jonson

Who was once one—

he gives it to Mr. Shakspeare to make up, who presently writte,

"That, while he liv'd was a _slow_ thing,

And now, being dead, is _no_-thing."

"This stuff," adds Mr. Gifford, "is copied from the Ashmole MS.

38."—Gifford's Ben Jonson, vol. i. Memoirs, p. lxxx. note.

The next may be said to be rather of a "better leer."

"Verses by Ben Jonson and Shakspeare, occasioned by the motto to the

Globe Theatre—_Totus mundus agit histrionem_.

JONSON.

"If, but _stage actors_, all the world displays,

Where shall we find _spectators_ of their plays?"

SHAKSPEARE.

"Little, or much, of what we see, we do;

We are all both _actors_ and _spectators_ too."

"Poetical Characteristicks, 8vo. MS. vol. i., some time in the Harleian

Library; which volume was returned to its owner."—Vide Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 130.

"That Shakspeare and Ben Jonson were intimate," observes Dr.

Berkenhout, "appears from the following letter, written by G. Peel, a

dramatic poet, to his friend Marle:—

'Friend Marle,

'I never longed for thy company more than last night, we were

all very merrye at the Globe, when Ned Alleyn did not scruple

to affyrme pleasantely to thy friend Will, that he had stolen

his speeche about the qualityes of an actor's excellencye, in

Hamlet hys tragedye, from conversations manyfold whych had

passed between them, and opinyons given by Alleyn touchinge the

subject. Shakespeare did not take this talke in good sorte;

but Jonson put an end to the strife, wittylie remarking, This

affaire needeth no contentione; you stole it from Ned, no

doubt; do not marvel: have you not seen him act tymes out of

number?

G. PEEL.'

"Whence I copied this letter, I do not recollect; but I remember

that at the time of transcribing it, I had no doubt of its

authenticity."—Biographia Literaria, pp. 399, 400. 4to. 1777.

I believe the first appearance of this letter was in the Annual

Register for 1770, whence it was copied into the Biographia Britannica,

and in both these works it commences in the following manner: "I must

desyre that my syster hyr watche, and the cookerie book you promysed,

may be sente bye the man.—I never longed, &c." Of the four, this is

the only anecdote worth preserving; but I apprehend it to be a mere

forgery.

[594:A] Wheler's Guide to Stratford, p. 18.

[594:B] See his Will, in Chalmers's Apology, p. 433.

[595:A] Wake, in his "Rex Platonicus, sive de potentiis, principis

Jacobi regis ad Acad. Oxon. adventu, anno 1605," speaking of the

prophecy of the Weird Sisters, says, _Vaticinii veritatem rerum eventus

comprobavit; Banquonis enim e stirpe potentissimus Jacobus oriundus_.

[595:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. x. p. 300.

[595:C] Ibid. vol. i. p. 130.

[596:A] Ancient British Drama, vol. i. p. 64. Act iv. sc. 3.

[596:B] Gilchrist's Examination, pp. 15, 16.

[597:A] One of these refutations, as including a complete detection

of the fallacious grounds on which a well-known anecdote relative to

Shakspeare and Jonson has been founded, it will be useful as well as

entertaining to transcribe.

"Hales of Eaton," observes Mr. Gifford, "was reported to have said

(though the matter was not much in Hales of Eaton's way), 'that there

was no subject of which any person ever writ, but he would produce it

much better done by Shakspeare,' p. 16.—Shakspeare, vol. i. edit.

1593. This is told by Dryden, 1667. The next version is by Tate,

1680. 'Our learned Hales was wont to assert, that since the time of

Orpheus no common place has been touched upon, where Shakspeare has

not performed as well.' Next comes the illustrious Gildon (of Dunciad

memory), and he models the story thus, from Dryden, as he says, with

a salvo for the accuracy of his recollection! 'Mr. Hales of Eaton

affirmed, that he would shew all the poets of antiquity outdone by

Shakspeare.—The _enemies_ of Shakspeare would by no means yield to

this; so that it came to a trial of skill. The place agreed on for the

dispute was Mr. Hales's chamber at Eton. A great many _books were sent

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, met there, and upon a thorough disquisition of the

point, the judges chosen out of this 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 poet.' P. 17.

"The story now reached Rowe; and as it was discovered about this

time, that the praise of Shakspeare was worth nothing unless coupled

with the abuse of Jonson, it puts on this form. 'Mr. Hales, who had

sate still some time, hearing Ben reproach Shakspeare with the want

of learning, and ignorance of the antients, told him, at last,' &c.

Thus it stood in the first edition: but Mr. Rowe was an honest man,

and having found occasion to change his mind before the appearance of

the second edition, he struck the passage out, and inserted in its

stead,—'sir John Suckling, who was a professed admirer of Shakspeare,

had undertaken, with some warmth, his defence against Ben Jonson, when

Mr. Hales,' &c. &c.—

"Thus we have the Fable of the _Three Black Crows!_ and thus a simple

observation of Mr. Hales (which in all probability he never made), is

dramatised, at length, into a scene of obloquy against our author! A

tissue of mere dotage scarcely deserves unravelling; but it may be just

observed, that when Jonson was seized with his last illness, (after

which he certainly never went 'to Mr. Hales's chamber, at Eton,' or

elsewhere), the two grave judges, Suckling and Falkland, who sat on

the merits of all the Greek and Roman poets, and decided with such

convincing effect, were, the first in the twelfth, and the second in

the fifteenth year of their ages!—But the chief mistake lies with

Dryden, whose memory was always subservient to the passion of the

day; the words which he has put into the mouth of Mr. Hales being,

in fact, the property of Jonson. Long before Suckling and Falkland

were out of leading-strings, he had told the world, that Shakspeare

surpassed not only all his contemporary poets, but even those of

Greece and Rome:—and if Mr. Hales used these words, without giving

the credit of them to Jonson, he was, to say the least of it, a bold

plagiarist."—Vol. i. p. cclxii.

[598:A] "It is my fixed persuasion," says Mr. Gifford, "(not lightly

adopted, but deduced from a wide examination of the subject,) that

they (Jonson and Shakspeare) were friends and associates till the

latter finally retired—that no feud, no jealousy ever disturbed their

connection—that Shakspeare was pleased with Jonson, and that Jonson

loved and admired Shakspeare."—Vol. i. p. ccli.

[598:B] This fact, relative to Edmond Shakspeare, has been mentioned

before, at some length; but the chronological form of the present

detail required its brief re-admission here.

[599:A] Vide Wheler's Guide, p. 27.

[599:B] Vide Stratford Register; Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 138.

[599:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 158. and note.

[600:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 77.

[600:B] Wheler's History of Stratford, p. 144.

[601:A] Malone's Inquiry, p. 216.

[601:B] Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 150.

[601:C] Gildon says that Shakspeare left behind him an estate of

300_l._ per annum, equal to at least 1000_l._ per ann. at this

day; but Mr. Malone doubts "whether all his property, real and

personal, amounted to much more than 200_l._ per ann. which yet was

a considerable fortune in those days." "If," he adds, "we rate the

_New Place_ with the appurtenances, and our poet's other houses in

Stratford, at 60_l._ a year, and his house, &c. in the Blackfriars,

(for which he paid 140_l._) at 20_l._ a year, we have a rent-roll of

150_l._ per ann. Of his personal property it is not now possible to

form any accurate estimate; but if we rate it at 500_l._, money then

bearing an interest of 10_l._ per cent. Shakspeare's total income was

200_l._ per ann."—Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 73, 74.

PART III.

_SHAKSPEARE IN RETIREMENT._

CHAPTER I.

ANECDOTES RELATIVE TO SHAKSPEARE, DURING HIS RETIREMENT AT

STRATFORD.

Yes, high in reputation as a poet, favoured by the great and

accomplished, and beloved by all who knew him, Shakspeare, after a long

residence in the capital, to the rational pleasures of which he had

contributed more than any other individual of his age, at length sought

for leisure and repose on the banks of his native stream: perhaps

wisely considering, that, as he had acquired a competency adequate to

the gratifications of a well-regulated mind; life had other duties to

perform, to the discharge of which, while health and vigour should

remain, he was now called upon to dedicate a larger portion of his time.

The Genius of dramatic poetry may sigh over a determination thus early

taken! but who shall blame what, from our knowledge of the man, we may

justly conceive to have been his predominating motive, the hope that in

the bosom of rural peace, aloof from the dissipations and seductions of

the stage, he might the better prepare for that event which awaits us

all, and which talents, such as his were, can only, from the magnitude

of the trust, render more awfully responsible.

That he was greatly honoured and respected at Stratford, we are

induced to credit, not only from tradition, but from the tone and

disposition of heart and intellect which his works every-where evince;

and accordingly, Rowe has told us, that "his pleasurable wit and

good-nature engaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the

friendship of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood."[604:A]

He had scarcely, however, settled in the place, when his property, and

that of all his neighbours, was threatened with utter extinction; for,

on the 9th of July, 1614, a fire broke out in the town, which according

to a brief shortly afterwards granted for its relief, "within the space

of lesse than two houres consumed and burnt fifty and fowre Dwelling

Howses, many of them being very faire Houses, besides Barnes, Stables,

and other Howses of Office, together with great Store of Corne, Hay,

Straw, Wood and Timber therein, amounting to the value of Eight

Thowsand Pounds and upwards: the force of which fier was so great (the

Wind sitting full upon the Towne) that it dispersed into so many places

thereof, whereby the whole Towne was in very great danger to have beene

utterly consumed."[604:B] Shakspeare's house fortunately escaped.

On the 10th of July, 1614, our poet was deprived of his neighbour and

acquaintance Mr. John Combe, a character whose celebrity is altogether

founded on the epitaph which Shakspeare is said to have written upon

him. The story, however, as related by Rowe, is injurious to the memory

of its supposed author, by representing him as wantonly inflicting pain

at the moment when his friendship and forbearance were most required.

"In a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends," relates

Rowe, "Mr. Combe told Shakspeare, in a laughing manner, that he fancied

he intended to write his epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and

since he could not know what might be said of him when he was dead, he

desired it might be done immediately; upon which Shakspeare gave him

these four verses:—

'_Ten in the hundred_ lies here engrav'd;

'Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not sav'd:

If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb?

Oh! ho! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe.'

But the sharpness of the satire is said to have stung the man so

severely, that he never forgave it."[605:A]

That Shakspeare, the gentle and unoffending Shakspeare as he is

always represented, should have violated the hour of confidential

gaiety by this sarcastic and condemnatory sally, is of itself

sufficiently improbable; but we are happily released from weighing the

inconsistencies accompanying such an anecdote, by the discovery of a

prior and more authentic statement, which completely exonerates the

bard, as it proves that the epitaph in question was written after the

death of its object: "One time as he (Shakspeare) was at the taverne

at Stratford," narrates Aubrey, "Mr. Combes, an old usurer, was to be

buried; he makes then this extemporary epitaph upon him:—

'Ten in the hundred the devill allowes,

But Combes will have twelve, he swears and he vowes;

If any one aske, who lies in this tomb,

Hoh! quoth the devill, 'tis my John-a-Combe.'"[605:B]

Mr. Combe, who, it appears, was buried two days after his

[605:C]decease, was by no means a popular character, having amassed

considerable wealth, through the medium of _usury_, a term then

uniformly applied to the practice of all who took any _interest_ or

_usance_ for money. The custom, though now honourable and familiar, was

then deemed so odious, and even criminal, that to be a _money-lender_,

on such a plan, was considered as an indelible reproach.

That Shakspeare, therefore, though intimate with the family, should,

after the death of Mr. Combe, have uttered this impromptu (which the

reader will observe is in Aubrey, without the condemnatory clause) as

a censure on his well-known rapacity, may, without any charge of undue

severity on his part, or even any breach of his customary suavity of

temper, readily be granted.

It is certain that he continued on good terms with the relatives of the

deceased, as in his Will he bequeaths to Mr. Thomas Combe, the nephew

of the usurer, his sword, as a token of remembrance.

Nor is this the only epitaph which Shakspeare is said to have written;

two others have been ascribed to him, one of which, as being given

on the authority of Sir William Dugdale, "a testimony," observes Mr.

Malone, "sufficient to ascertain its authenticity," and possessing

besides strong internal marks of being genuine, requires admission into

our text.

It is written in commemoration of Sir Thomas Stanley, Knight, who died

some time after the year 1600, and is thus described by Sir William:—

"On the north side of the chancell (of Tongue church, in the county of

Salop) stands a very stately tombe, supported with Corinthian columnes.

It hath two figures of men in armour, 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 of Nether-Hadden, in the county of Derby,

Knight, by whom he had issue two sons, Henry and Edward. Henry died an

infant; Edward survived, to whom those lordships descended; and married

the lady Lucie Percie, second daughter of the Earle of Northumberland:

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 Essex. Thomas her son, died

in his infancy, and is buried in the parish 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 SHAKSPEARE, the

late famous tragedian:—

"_Written upon the east ende of this tombe._

'ASKE who lyes here, but do not weepe;

He is not dead, he doth but sleepe.

This stony register is for his bones,

His fame is more perpetual than these stones:

And his own goodness, with himself being gone,

Shall live, when earthly monument is none.'

"_Written upon the west ende thereof._

'NOT monumental stone preserves our fame,

Nor skye-aspiring pyramids our name.

The memory of him for whom this stands,

Shall out-live marble, and defacer's hands.

When all to time's consumption shall be given,

Stanley, for whom this stands, shall stand in heaven.'"[607:A]

It has been well remarked by Mr. Malone, that the fifth and last lines

of this epitaph "bear very strong marks of the hand of Shakspeare."

As every circumstance relative to our author is, however minute,

possessed of interest, the following particulars and conversation

concerning a negociation for the enclosure of some land near Stratford

in 1614, and which were first communicated to the public by Mr. Wheler,

shall be given in that gentleman's own words.

"About the year 1614," he relates, "there was an intention of inclosing

Welcombe field, in this parish, where part of Shakspeare's landed

property lay, which he had purchased in 1602 of William and John

Combe, and over which field the tithes extended, of which he purchased

a moiety in 1605. Shakspeare was therefore doubly interested in this

inclosure; and from some memorandums or notes commenced in London, but

concluded at Stratford, by Thomas Green, Esq. (the owner of part of the

tithes, perhaps the other moiety,) a relation of Shakspeare's,—the

following particulars of his conversation with Shakspeare are extracted.

"'Rec. 16. No. 1614, at 4 o'clock afr. noon, a Lre. from Mr. Bayly, and

Mr. Alderman, (the Bailif and chief Alderman of Stratford-upon-Avon,)

dated 12. No. 1614, touchyng the inclosure busynes.'

"'Jovis 17. No. (1614) My Cosen Shakspeare comyng yesterday to town,

I went to see him how he did. He told me that they (the parties

wishing to inclose) assured him they ment to inclose no further than

to Gospel bush, and so upp straight (leaving out pt. of the Dyngles

to the field,) to the gate in Clopton hedg and take in Salisbury's

peece; and that they mean in Aprill to svey. the land and then to

gyve satisfaccion and not before: and he and Mr. Hall, (Shakspeare's

son-in-law, probably present) say they think yr. (there) will be

nothyng done at all.'

"Mr. Green, (the common clerk to this corporation, who were adverse to

the inclosure) returned to Stratford at the latter end of November, or

beginning of December, 1614, and continued his notes until the 23d of

December; upon which day it appears that letters were written by the

corporation to Shakspeare and to Mr. Manwaring, (another proprietor,

resident in London,) both of whom seem to have been desirous of

inclosing. Mr. Green's memorandum, as far as it can be transcribed,

being almost illegible and the paper somewhat damaged, is as follows:—

"'23. Dec. (1614.) a Hall. Lres. wrytten, one to Mr. Manyring—another

to Mr. Shakspeare, with almost all the company's hands to eyther.

I also wrytte myself to my Csn. (Cousin) Shakspear, the coppyes of

all our . . . then also a note of the inconvenyences wold . by the

inclosure.'

"From a copy of the corporations letter to 'Arthur Mannering, Esq.'

(then residing at the Lord Chancellor's house, perhaps in some official

capacity) as noticed by Green to have been written on the 23d of

December, 1614, it appears that he was apprized of the injury to be

expected from the intended inclosure; reminded of the damage that

Stratford, then 'lying in the ashes of desolation,' had sustained

from recent fires; and entreated to forbear the inclosure. The letter

written to Shakspeare, the author has not been sufficiently fortunate

to discover; but it was probably to the same effect. A petition was

presented from the corporation to the Lords of the Privy Council,

requesting their injunction to William Combe, Esq. of Stratford

College, then High Sheriff of this County; who, being proprietor

of considerable estates at Welcombe, was desirous of an inclosure.

Nothing, however, was done, as Shakspeare had surmised; and the fields

remained open until the year 1774."[609:A]

Early in 1616 our poet married his youngest daughter Judith to Mr.

Thomas Quiney, a vintner in Stratford. The ceremony took place on

February the 10th, 1616, the bridegroom being four years older than the

bride, who had, however, completed her thirty-second year.

The daughters of Shakspeare appear to have been, like those of Milton,

ignorant of the art of writing; Judith, at least, in attesting a

deed still extant, being under the necessity of making her mark,

which is accompanied by the explanatory appendage of "_Signum Judeth

Shakspeare_."[610:A] The omission, however, is less extraordinary

in the days of Shakspeare than in those of his great successor; the

education of women, during the reigns of Elizabeth and James, being in

general calculated, with a few splendid exceptions, principally in the

upper classes of society, for the discharge of mere domestic duties;

and when, to be able to read was considered as a very distinguishing

accomplishment.

The fruit of this marriage was three sons, Shakspeare, Richard, and

Thomas Quiney; the first dying in his infancy, the second in his

twenty-first year, and the third in his twentieth year; so that, as

_Elizabeth_, the daughter of _Susanna_, by Dr. Hall, had no issue by

her two husbands, Thomas Nash, Esq. and Sir John Barnard, she proved

the last lineal descendant of her grandfather.

It was very shortly after the marriage of Judith, that our author,

being in _perfect health and memory_, deemed it necessary to make his

Will; a document which appears to have been drawn up on the 25th of

February, 1616, though not executed until the 25th of the following

month.[610:B]

That the event, for which this was a proper preparatory act, should so

_rapidly_ have followed, could be little in the contemplation of one

who had not reached his fifty-second year, and who, according to his

own account, was _in perfect health and memory_. Yet we may venture to

infer, from what tradition has left us of his life and character, that

few were better prepared for the transition, that few could be found,

over whom, when the event had occurred, with more justice might it be

said,—

"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well!"

FOOTNOTES:

[604:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 74-76.

[604:B] Wheler's History and Antiquities of Stratford, p. 15.

[605:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 78-80.

[605:B] Letters by Eminent Persons, &c. 1813, vol. iii. p. 307.

[605:C] On the 12th of July, 1614.—See Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p.

82.

[607:A] "Preserved," says Mr. Malone, "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, chap. xxxv. fol. 20.;

a transcript of which Sir Isaac Heard, Garter Principal King at Arms,

has obligingly transmitted to me."—Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 90.

The other epitaph alluded to in the text, is from "a Manuscript volume

of Poems by William Herrick and others, in the hand-writing of the time

of Charles I., among Rawlinson's Collections in the Bodleian Library.

'AN EPITAPH.

'When God was pleas'd, the world unwilling yet,

Elias James to nature pay'd his debt,

And here reposeth: as he liv'd, he dyde;

The saying in him strongly verifide,—

Such life, such death: then, the known truth to tell,

He liv'd a godly life, and dyde as well.

WM. SHAKSPEARE.'"

It appears from Mr. Malone's researches, that the James's were a family

living at Stratford both during and after our poet's time. Vide Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 90.

[609:A] Wheler's Guide to Stratford, pp. 22-25.

[610:A] Vide Wheler's Guide, p. 21.

[610:B] "_February_," says Mr. Malone, "was first written, and

afterwards struck out, and _March_ written over it."—Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 154.

CHAPTER II.

THE DEATH OF SHAKSPEARE—OBSERVATIONS ON HIS WILL—ON THE

DISPOSITION AND MORAL CHARACTER OF SHAKSPEARE—ON THE MONUMENT

ERECTED TO HIS MEMORY, AND ON THE ENGRAVING OF HIM PREFIXED TO

THE FIRST FOLIO EDITION OF HIS PLAYS—CONCLUSION.

The death of Shakspeare, of which the closing paragraph of the last

chapter had afforded us an intimation, took place on Tuesday, the 23d

of April, 1616, on his birth-day, and when he had exactly completed his

fifty-second year. It is remarkable, that on the same day expired, in

Spain, his great and amiable contemporary, Cervantes; the world being

thus deprived, nearly at the same moment, of the two most original

writers which modern Europe has produced.

That not the smallest account of the disease which terminated so

valuable a life, should have been transmitted to posterity, is perhaps

equally singular; and the more so, as our poet was, no doubt, attended

by his son-in-law, Dr. Hall, who was then forty years of age; and

who should have recollected, that the circumstances which led to the

dissolution of such a man, had, whether professionally important or

not, a claim to preservation and publicity. But the age was a most

incurious one, as to the personal history of literary men; and Hall,

who left for publication a manuscript collection of cases, selected

from not less than a thousand diseases, has omitted the only one which

could have secured to his work any permanent interest or value.[611:A]

On the second day after his decease, the remains of Shakspeare were

committed to the grave; being buried on the 25th of April, on the north

side of the chancel of the great church of Stratford.

Fortunately, some light has been thrown upon the domestic circumstances

of the poet, by the preservation of his Will, yet extant in the

Prerogative Court, and which, though often published, we have again

introduced, as a necessary appendage to our work.

The most striking features in this document, are the apparent neglect

of his wife, and the favouritism exhibited with regard to his eldest

daughter. Mrs. Shakspeare, indeed, was so entirely forgotten in the

original Will, that the only bequest which her husband makes her,

of his "second best bed, with the furniture," is introduced by an

interlineation.

This omission, and the trifling nature of the legacy, have given birth

to some conjectures on the part of his biographers and commentators.

Oldys, misapplying the language of one of his sonnets, has hinted, that

the poet entertained some doubts as to the fidelity of his beautiful

wife; an intimation which soon after occasioned a curious controversy

between Messrs. Steevens and Malone; the latter impeaching, and the

former defending the conjugal affection of their bard. "His wife had

not wholly escaped his memory," observes Mr. Malone; "he had forgot

her,—he had recollected her,—but so recollected her, as more strongly

to mark how little he esteemed her; he had already (as it is vulgarly

expressed,) cut her off, not indeed with a shilling, but with an old

bed." "That our poet was jealous of this lady," remarks Mr. Steevens,

"is an unwarrantable conjecture. Having, in times of health and

prosperity, provided for her by settlement, (or knowing that her father

had already done so,) he bequeathed to her at his death, not merely _an

old piece of furniture_, but perhaps, as a mark of peculiar tenderness,

"The very bed that on his bridal night

Received him to the arms of Belvidera."[612:A]

In fact, we do know that Shakspeare married for love, but we do not know

of any the smallest intimation or hint, previous to the wild conjecture

of Oldys, that coolness or estrangement had subsisted between the poet

and his wife. We have every right, therefore, to conclude, that Mrs.

Shakspeare had been previously and amply provided for, either by her

husband, or by her father, whose circumstances are represented by Rowe,

as having been "substantial." We may, at least, rest satisfied, as well

from the known integrity of Shakspeare, as from the humanity of his

disposition, that nothing harsh or unjust had been committed by him on

this occasion. Indeed, had the case been otherwise, the love of mankind

for propagating what tends to deteriorate superior characters, would,

doubtless, have protected such a family-anecdote from oblivion.

Why the executorship was intrusted to Dr. Hall and his lady, may be

readily conceived to have originated, independent of their being the

persons principally concerned, in the knowledge of the poet that the

former, who was a man of business, was much better calculated, than

Mrs. Shakspeare could possibly be, for carrying the will into execution.

That superior qualities of the head and heart, more especially

when united, are entitled, even under the parental roof, to marked

distinction, who will deny? and that such were the blended qualities

which rendered Susanna the favourite of her father may be certainly

inferred from the circumstance that, while we hear nothing of Judith,

but that she is supposed to have married contrary to her father's

wishes, of Susanna we are told that she was "witty above her sex;" that

she had "something of Shakspeare" in her, and, above all, that she was

"wise to salvation," that she "wept with all that wept, yet set herself

to chear them up with comforts." To a child thus great and good, we

need not wonder that Shakspeare paid a delighted deference.[613:A]

It may be objected that, however superior the elder daughter might be

in point of intellect and moral sensibility, if the younger had done

nothing worse than marry without her father's approbation, no great

difference should have been made between them in the distribution of

his property. But we must recollect, that they moved in different

circles, that whilst Susanna was united to a physician, who being

in great practice, and intimate with the first families in the

neighbourhood, was obliged to support an establishment of much expense,

Judith was the wife of a vintner, a station comparatively inferior,

and not necessarily requiring such an expenditure. Under these

considerations we shall probably be induced to acquit the poet of any

undue partiality, and to view the provisions of his Will as neither

disproportioned to the stations nor inadequate to the necessities of

the parties concerned.

To the disposition and moral character of Shakspeare, tradition has

ever borne the most uniform and favourable testimony. And, indeed, had

she been silent on the subject, his own works would have whispered

to us the truth; would have told us, in almost every page, of the

gentleness, the benevolence, and the goodness of his heart. For, though

no one has exceeded him in painting the stronger passions of the

human breast, it is evident that he delighted most in the expression

of loveliness and simplicity, and was ever willing to descend from

the loftiest soarings of imagination, to sport with innocence and

beauty. Though "the world of spirits and of nature," says the admirable

Schlegel, "had laid all their treasures at his feet: in strength a

demi-god, in profundity of view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a

protecting spirit of a higher order, he yet lowered himself to mortals

as if unconscious of his superiority, and was as open and unassuming as

a child."[614:A]

That a temper of this description, and combined with such talents,

should be the object of sincere and ardent friendship, can excite

no surprise. "I loved the man," says Jonson, with a noble burst of

enthusiasm, "and do honour his memory on this side idolatry as much as

any. He was, indeed, honest; and of an open and free nature;" and Rowe,

repeating the uncontradicted rumour of times past, has told us,—"that

every one, who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men,

had generally a just value and esteem for him;" adding, "that his

exceeding candour and good-nature must certainly have inclined all the

gentler part of the world to love him."[615:A]

No greater proof, indeed, can be given of the felicity of his temper,

and the sweetness of his manners, than that all who addressed him,

seem to have uniformly connected his name with the epithets _worthy_,

_gentle_, or _beloved_[615:B]; nor was he backward in returning this

esteem, many of his sonnets indicating the warmth with which he

cherished the remembrance of his friends. Thus the thirtieth opens with

the following pensive retrospect:—

"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh——

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night;"

and in the thirty-first he tenderly exclaims,—

"How many a holy and obsequious tear

Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye,

As interest of the dead!"

Another very fascinating feature in the character of Shakspeare,

was the almost constant cheerfulness and serenity of his mind:

he was "verie good company," says Aubrey, "and of a very ready,

and _pleasant_, and _smooth_ witt."[615:C] In this, as Mr. Godwin

has justly observed, he bore a striking resemblance to Chaucer,

who was remarkable for the placidity and cheerfulness of his

disposition[616:A]; nor can there, probably, be a surer indication of

that peace and sunshine of the soul which surpasses all other gifts,

than this habitual tone of mind.

That Shakspeare was entitled to its possession from his _moral_

virtues, we have already seen; and that, in a _religious_ point of

view, he had a claim to the enjoyment, the numerous passages in his

works, which breathe a spirit of pious gratitude and devotional

rapture, will sufficiently declare. In fact, upon the topic of

religious, as upon that of ethic wisdom, no profane poet can furnish us

with a greater number of just and luminous aphorisms; passages which

dwell upon the heart and reach the soul, for they have issued from lips

of fire, from conceptions worthy of a superior nature, from feelings

solemn and unearthly.

To these observations on the disposition and moral character of

Shakspeare, we must add a few remarks on the _taste_ which he seems to

have possessed, in an exquisite degree, for all the forms of beauty,

whether resulting from nature or from art. No person can study his

writings, indeed, without perceiving, that, throughout the vast range

of being, whatever is lovely and harmonious, whatever is sweet in

expression, or graceful in proportion, was constantly present to his

mind; that

——————————— "on every part,

In earth, or air, the meadow's purple stores,

The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's form,

——————————— he saw pourtray'd

That uncreated beauty, which delights

The mind supreme."[616:B]

Nor was he a less delighted worshipper of the imitative efforts of art.

With what taste and enthusiasm, he has spoken of the effects of music,

has been already observed; but it remains to notice in what a sublime

spirit of piety he refers this concord of sweet sounds, to its source

in that transcript of Almighty, "the world's harmonious volume:—"

"There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st,

But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-eye'd cherubins:

Such harmony is in immortal souls;

But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay

Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it."[617:A]

Of the beauties of painting and sculpture he appears to have had a keen

and lively discernment. On Julio Romano, the most poetical, perhaps,

of painters, he has pronounced, that "_had he himself eternity, and

could put breath into his work, 'he' would beguile Nature of her

custom_[617:B];" and of his masterly appreciation of the art of

sculpture, the following lines from the _The Winter's Tale_, where

Paulina unveils to Leontes the supposed statue of Hermione, afford

evidence beyond all praise:—

"_Paul._ ——————————— Here it is: prepare

To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever

Still sleep mock'd death: behold; and say, 'tis well.

(_Paulina undraws a curtain, and discovers a statue._

I like your silence, it the more shews off

Your wonder: but yet speak;—

Comes it not something near?

_Leont._ Her natural posture!—

—————————————— Oh, thus she stood,

Even with such life of majesty,—

—————— when first I woo'd her!—

Would I were dead, but that, methinks already—

What was he, that did make it? See, my lord,

Would you not deem it breath'd? and that these veins

Did verily bear blood?

_Paul._ Masterly done:

The very life seems warm upon her lip.

_Leont._ The fixure of her eye has motion in't,

As we are mock'd with art:—

———————————— Still methinks,

There is an air comes from her: what fine chizzel

Could ever yet cut breath?—

_Paul._ —————————— Shall I draw the curtain?

_Leont._ No, not these twenty years."[618:A]

To the memory of a poet who, independent of the matchless talents which

he has exhibited in his own peculiar province, had shown such proofs of

his attachment to the sister arts, some tribute, from these departments

of genius, might naturally be expected, and was certainly due. Nor was

it long ere the debt of gratitude was paid; _before_ the year 1623, a

monument, containing a bust of the poet, had been erected in Stratford

Church, immediately above the grave which inclosed his hallowed relics.

The tradition of his native town is, that this bust was copied from a

cast after nature.[618:B] It is placed beneath an arch, and between

two Corinthian columns of black marble, and represents the poet in

a sitting posture, with a cushion spread before him, holding a pen

in his right hand, whilst his left rests upon a scroll of paper. The

entablature exhibits the arms of Shakspeare surmounted by a death's

head, with an infantine form sitting on each side; that on the right

supporting, in the same hand, a spade, and the figure on the left,

whose eyes are closed, reposing its right hand on a skull, whilst the

other holds an inverted torch.[618:C]

On a tablet below the cushion are engraved the two following

inscriptions:

"Judicio Pylivm, genio Socratem, arte Maronem,

Terra tegit, popvlvs mœret, Olympvs habet."

"Stay passenger, why goest thov by so fast,

Read, if thov canst, whom envious death hath plast

Within this monument, Shakspeare; with whome

Quick natvre dide; whose name doth deck ys tombe

Far more than cost; sieth all yt. he hath writt,

Leaves living art, bvt page to serve his witt.

Obiit Ano. Doi. 1616. Ætatis 53. Die 23. Ap."

A flat stone which covers his grave, presents us with these singular

lines, said to have been written by the bard himself, and which were

probably suggested, as Mr. Malone has remarked, "by an apprehension

that 'his' remains might share the same fate with those of the rest

of his countrymen, and be added to the immense pile of human bones

deposited in the charnel-house at Stratford:—[619:A]

"Good frend, for Jesvs sake forbeare

To digg the dvst encloased heare;

Blese be ye. man yt. spares thes stones,

And cvrst be he yt. moves my bones."

We view the monumental bust of Shakspeare, observes Mr. Britton, "as a

family record; as a memorial raised by the affection and esteem of his

relatives, to keep alive contemporary admiration, and to excite the

glow of enthusiasm in posterity. This invaluable 'effigy' is attested

by tradition, consecrated by time, and preserved in the inviolability

of its own simplicity and sacred station. It was evidently executed

immediately after the poet's decease; and probably under the

superintendance of his son-in-law, Dr. Hall, and his daughter; the

latter of whom, according to her epitaph, was 'witty above her sexe,'

and therein like her father. Leonard Digges, in a poem praising the

works and worth of Shakspeare, and published within seven years

after his death, speaks of the Stratford monument as a well-known

object. Dugdale, in his 'Antiquities of Warwickshire,' 1656, gives a

plate of the monument, but drawn and engraved in a truly tasteless

and inaccurate style, and observes in the text, that the poet was

_famous_, and thus entitled to such distinction. Langbaine, in his

'Account of English Dramatic Poets,' 1691, pronounces the Stratford

bust Shakspeare's 'true effigies.' These are decided proofs of its

antiquity; and we may safely conclude that it was intended to be a

faithful portrait of the poet.—

"The Bust is the size of life; it is formed out of a block of soft

stone; and was originally painted over in imitation of nature. The

hands and face were of flesh colour, the eyes of a light hazle, and the

hair and beard auburn; the doublet or coat was scarlet, and covered

with a loose black gown, or tabard, without sleeves; the upper part

of the cushion was green, the under half crimson, and the tassels

gilt.[620:A] Such appear to have been the original features of this

important, but neglected or insulted bust. After remaining in this

state above one hundred and twenty years, Mr. John Ward, grandfather

to Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kemble, caused it to be 'repaired,' and the

original colours preserved[620:B], in 1748, from the profits of

the representation of Othello. This was a generous, and apparently

judicious act; and therefore very unlike the next alteration it was

subjected to in 1793. In that year, Mr. Malone caused the bust to be

covered over with one or more coats of white paint; and thus at once

destroyed its original character, and greatly injured the expression

of the face.[621:A] Having absurdly characterized this expression

for 'pertness,' and therefore 'differing from that placid composure

and thoughtful gravity so perceptible in his _original_ portrait,

and his best prints,' Mr. M. could have few scruples about injuring

or destroying it. In this very act, and in this line of comment,

our zealous annotator has passed an irrevocable sentence on his own

judgment. If the opinions of some of the best sculptors and painters

of the metropolis are entitled to respect and confidence on such a

subject, that of Mr. Malone is at once false and absurd. They justly

remark, that the face indicates cheerfulness, good humour, suavity,

benignity and intelligence. These characteristics are developed by

the mouth and its muscles—by the cheeks—eye-brows—forehead—and

skull; and hence they rationally infer, that the face is worked from

nature."[621:B]

With these observations, which seem the result of a just and

discriminating judgment, we feel happy in coinciding; having had an

opportunity, in the summer of 1815, of visiting this celebrated

monument, for the purpose of gratifying what we conceive to be a

laudable curiosity. When on the spot, we felt convinced, from the

circumstances which have been preserved relative to the erection of

this bust; from the period of life at which the poet died, and above

all, from the character, distinctness and expression of the features

themselves, that this invaluable relique may be considered as a correct

resemblance of our beloved bard.

That he was "_a handsome well shaped man_," we are expressly informed

by Aubrey, and universal tradition has attributed to him _cheerfulness_

and _good temper_. Now the Stratford effigy tells us all this, together

with the character of his age, in language which cannot be mistaken;

and it once superadded to the little which has been recorded of his

person, what we have no doubt was accurately given by the original

painter of his bust, the colour of his eyes and the beautiful auburn of

his hair.

But it tells us still more; for the impress of that mighty mind which

ranged at will through all the realms of nature and of fancy, and

which, though incessantly employed in the personification of passion

and of feeling, was ever great without effort, and at peace within

itself, is visible in the exquisite harmony and symmetry of the whole

head and countenance, which, not only in each separate feature, in the

swell and expansion of the forehead, in the commanding sweep of the eye

brow, in the undulating outline of the nose, and in the open sweetness

of the lips, but in their combined and integral expression, breathe of

him, of whom it may be said, in his own emphatic language, that

"We ne'er shall look upon his like again."

Very shortly after the erection of this monument, appeared the first

folio edition of our author's plays, in the title-page of which,

bearing the date of 1623, is found the earliest print of Shakspeare, an

engraving by Martin Droeshout, with the following attestation of its

verisimilitude from the pen of Ben Jonson:

"TO THE READER.

"THIS figure that thou here seest put,

It was for gentle Shakspeare cut;

Wherein the graver had a strife

With nature, to out-do the life.

O, could he but have drawn his wit,

As well in brass, as he hath hit

His face, the print would then surpass

All that was ever writ in brass;

But since he cannot, reader, look,

Not on his picture, but his book."

Between the wretched engraving, thus undeservedly eulogised, and the

monumental bust at Stratford, there is certainly such a resemblance as

to prove, that the assertion of Jonson with regard to its likeness,

was not _altogether_ without foundation; but, as Mr. Steevens has well

remarked, "Shakspeare's countenance deformed by Droeshout, resembles

the sign of Sir Roger de Coverley, when it had been changed into

a Saracen's head; on which occasion The Spectator observes, that

the features of the gentle Knight were still apparent through the

lineaments of the ferocious Mussulman."[623:A]

There is, however, a much greater, nay, a very close and remarkable

similitude, between the engraving, from the Felton Shakspeare, and

the bust at Stratford. What basis Mr. Gilchrist may have had for

his observation, that _Mr. Steevens failed in communicating to the

public his confidence in the integrity of Mr. Felton's picture_, we

know not[623:B]; but, if the most striking affinity to the monumental

effigy, be deemed, as we think it ought to be, a proof of authenticity,

this picture _is_ entitled to our confidence; for whether we consider

the general contour of the head, or the particular conformation of

the forehead, eyes, nose, or mouth, the resemblance is complete; the

only perceptible deviation being in the construction of the eye-brows,

which, instead of forming nearly a perfect arch, as in the sculpture,

have an horizontal direction, and are somewhat elevated towards the

temples.[624:A]

* * * * *

We have now reached the termination of a work, of which, whatever shall

be its reception with the public, even Diffidence itself may say, that

it has been prosecuted with incessant labour and unwearied research;

with an ardent desire to give it a title to acceptance, and with an

anxiety, which has proved injurious to health, that it should be

deemed, not altogether unworthy of the bard whose name it bears.

It has also been a labour of love, and, though much indisposition

has accompanied several of the years devoted to its construction, it

is closed with a mingled sensation of gratitude, regret, and hope;

of gratitude, for what of health and strength has been spared to its

author; of regret, in relinquishing, what, with all its concomitant

anxieties, has been often productive of rational delight; and of hope,

that, in the inevitable hour which is fast approaching, no portion

of its pages shall suggest a thought, which can add poignancy to

suffering, or bitterness to recollection.

FOOTNOTES:

[611:A] These Cases were afterwards translated from the original

Latin by James Cooke, a Surgeon at Warwick, under the title of

"Select Observations on English Bodies; or Cures, both empericall and

historical, performed upon very eminent persons in desperate diseases."

London, 1657. 12mo.

[612:A] Malone's Supplement, vol. i. pp. 653. 657. 655.

[613:A] I recollect an engraving, from a picture by Westall, of Milton

composing Paradise Lost, in which he is attended by his two daughters.

Shakspeare and his favourite Susanna might furnish a pleasing subject

for the same elegant artist.

[614:A] Lectures on Dramatic Literature, vol. ii. p. 138.

[615:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 67.

[615:B] "My gentle Shakspeare" is the language of Jonson, in his Poem

to the memory of our bard: and see the Commendatory Poems prefixed to

the old editions of our author's works, in Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ii.

[615:C] Letters by Eminent Persons, from the Bodleian Library, vol.

iii. p. 307.

[616:A] Life of Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 175.

[616:B] Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, book i.

[617:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 374. Act v. sc. 1.

[617:B] Ibid. vol. ix. p. 408. Act v. sc. 2.

[618:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. pp. 412-416. Act v. sc. 3.

[618:B] Wheler's Guide to Stratford, p. 87.—"If Shakspeare's and Lord

Totness's tombs," says Mr. Wheler, "were erected by one and the same

artist, circumstances not at all improbable, it would not appear that

he (Thomas Stanton, the sculptor) had any want of skill in preserving

a resemblance; for the monumental likeness of Lord Totness strongly

resembles the capital paintings of him in Clopton House, and at

Gorhambury, in Hertfordshire, as well as the engraving of him prefixed

to his '_Hibernia Pacata_,' a posthumous publication in 1633."—Vide p.

89.

[618:C] The arms on this monument, are,—_Or, on a bend sable, a

tilting spear of the first, point upwards, headed argent_.—Crest, _A

falcon displayed argent, supporting a spear in pale or_.

[619:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 90.

[620:A] "Although the practice of painting statues and busts to

imitate nature, is repugnant to good taste, and must be stigmatized as

vulgar and hostile to every principle of art, yet when an effigy is

thus coloured and transmitted to us, as illustrative of a particular

age or people, and as a record of fashion and costume, it becomes an

interesting relic, and should be preserved with as much care as an

Etruscan vase, or an early specimen of Raffael's painting; and the man

who deliberately defaces or destroys either, will ever be regarded as

a criminal in the high court of criticism and taste. From an absence

of this feeling, many truly curious, and, to us, important subjects

have been destroyed. Among which is to be noticed a vast monument of

antiquity on Marbrough Downs, in Wiltshire; and which, though once the

most stupendous work of human labour and skill in Great Britain, is now

nearly demolished." Britton.

[620:B] "Wheler's Guide, p. 90."

[621:A] "Mr. Wheler, in his interesting Topographical Vade Mecum,

relating to Stratford, has given publicity to the following stanzas,

which were written in the Album, at Stratford church, by one of the

visitors to Shakspeare's tomb."

"Stranger, to whom this Monument is shown,

Invoke the Poet's curses on Malone;

Whose meddling zeal his barbarous taste displays,

And daubs his tomb-stone, as he marr'd his plays."

[621:B] "Britton's Remarks on the Monumental Bust of Shakspeare." These

Remarks, which were published on April 23. 1816, "The Anniversary of

the Birth and Death of Shakspeare, and the Second Centenary after

his Decease," are accompanied by an admirably executed Mezzotinto of

Shakspeare from the Monumental Bust; engraved by William Ward, from

a Painting by Thomas Phillips, Esq. R. A. after a Cast made from the

original Bust by George Bullock.

Mr. Britton had previously expressed a similar opinion of the merits

and fidelity of this Bust, in some very ingenious and well-written

"Remarks on the Life and Writings of Shakspeare," prefixed to an

edition of the Poet's Plays, by Whittingham and Arliss.

[623:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 19.

[623:B] Gifford's Jonson, vol. i. p. ccclviii.

[624:A] These observations are founded upon the fidelity of the

engraving prefixed to Reed's edition of Shakspeare, 1803.

APPENDIX.

SHAKSPEARE'S WILL.

(_From the Original, in the Office of the Prerogative Court of

Canterbury._)

_Vicesimo quinto die Martii, Anno Regni Domini nostri Jacobi

nunc Regis Angliæ, &c. decimo quarto, et Scotiæ quadragesimo

nono. Anno Domini, 1616._

In the name of God, Amen. I WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE of Stratford-upon-Avon,

in the county of Warwick, gent. in perfect health and memory[627:A],

(God be praised!) do make and ordain this my last will and testament in

manner and form following; that is to say:

_First_, I commend my soul into the hands of God my Creator, hoping,

and assuredly believing, through the only merits of Jesus Christ my

Saviour, to be made partaker of life everlasting; and my body to the

earth whereof it is made.

_Item_, 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 say, one hundred pounds in discharge of her

marriage-portion within one year after my decease, with consideration

after the rate of two shillings in the pound[627:B] for so 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 descend

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

Hall, and her heirs for ever.

_Item_, I give and bequeath unto my said daughter Judith one hundred

and fifty pounds more, if she, or any issue of her body, be living at

the end of three years 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[628:A] 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 will

is, and so I devise and bequeath the said hundred and fifty pounds to

be set out by my executors 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

decease 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 portion by this my will given unto her, and to

be adjudged 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.[628:B]

_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

appurtenances, in Stratford, wherein she dwelleth, for her natural

life, under the yearly rent of twelve-pence.[629:A]

_Item_, I give and bequeath unto her three sons, William Hart, ——

Hart[629:B], and Michael Hart, five pounds a-piece, to be paid within

one year after my decease.

_Item_, I give and bequeath unto the said Elizabeth Hall all my plate

(except my broad silver and gilt bowl) that I now have at the date of

this my will.[629:C]

_Item_, I give and bequeath unto the poor of Stratford aforesaid ten

pounds; to Mr. Thomas Combe[629:D] my sword; to Thomas Russel, esqr.

five pounds; and to Francis Collins[629:E] of the borough of Warwick,

gent. thirteen pounds six shillings and eight-pence, to be paid within

one year after my decease.

_Item_, I give and bequeath to Hamlet (_Hamnet_) Sadler[629:F],

twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a ring; to William

Reynolds, gent. twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a ring;

to my godson William Walker twenty shillings in gold; to Anthony

Nash[630:A], gent. twenty-six shillings eight-pence; and to Mr. John

Nash[630:B] twenty-six shillings eight-pence; and to my fellowes, John

Hemynge[630:C], Richard Burbage[630:D], and Henry Cundell[630:E],

twenty-six shillings eight-pence a-piece, to buy them rings.

_Item_, I give, will, bequeath, and devise, unto my daughter Susanna

Hall[630:F], for better enabling of her to perform this my will,

and towards the performance thereof, all that capital messuage or

tenement, with the appurtenances, in Stratford aforesaid, called

the New Place, wherein I now dwell, and two messuages or tenements,

with the appurtenances, situate, lying, and being in Henley-street,

within the borough of Stratford aforesaid; and all my barns, stables,

orchards, gardens, lands, tenements, and hereditaments whatsoever,

situate, lying, and being, or to be had, received, perceived, or

taken, within the towns, hamlets, villages, fields, and grounds of

Stratford-upon-Avon, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Welcombe, or in any

of them, in the said county of Warwick; and also all that messuage or

tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one John Robinson dwelleth,

situate, lying, and being, in the Blackfriars in London near the

Wardrobe[631:A]; and all other my lands, tenements, and hereditaments

whatsoever; to have and to hold all and singular the said premises,

with their appurtenances, unto the said Susanna Hall, for and during

the term of her natural life; and after her decease to the first son

of her body lawfully issuing; and to the heirs males of the body of

the said first son lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to

the second son of her body lawfully issuing, and to the heirs males of

the body of the said second son lawfully issuing; and for default of

such heirs, to the third son of the body of the said Susanna lawfully

issuing, and to the heirs males of the body of the said third son

lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, the same so to be

and remain to the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh sons of her body,

lawfully issuing one after another, and to the heirs males of the

bodies of the said fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh sons lawfully

issuing, in such manner as it is before limited to be and remain to the

first, second, and third sons of her body, and to their heirs males;

and for default of such issue, the said premises to be and remain to my

said niece Hall, and the heirs males of her body lawfully issuing; and

for default of such issue, to my daughter Judith, and the heirs males

of her body lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to the

right heirs of me the said William Shakspeare for ever.

_Item_, I give unto my wife[631:B] my second best bed, with the

furniture.

_Item_, I give and bequeath to my said daughter Judith my broad silver

gilt bowl. All the rest of my goods, chattels, leases, plate, jewels,

and houshold stuff whatsoever, after my debts and legacies paid, and

my funeral expences discharged, I give, devise, and bequeath to my

son-in-law, John Hall[631:C], gent. and my daughter Susanna his wife,

whom I ordain and make executors of this my last will and testament.

And I do entreat and appoint the said Thomas Russel, esqr. and Francis

Collins, gent. to be overseers hereof. And do revoke all former wills,

and publish this to be my last will and testament. In witness whereof I

have hereunto put my hand, the day and year first above written.

By me,

WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.

_Witness to the publishing hereof_,

FRA. COLLYNS.

JULIUS SHAW.

JOHN ROBINSON.

HAMLET SADLER.

ROBERT WHATTCOTT.

_Probatum fuit testamentum suprascriptum apud London, coram Magistro

William Byrde, Legum Doctore, &c. vicessimo secundo die mensis Junii,

Anno Domini 1616; juramento Johannis Hall unius ex. cui, &c. de bene,

&c. jurat. reservata potestate, &c. Susannæ Hall, alt. ex. &c. eam cum

venerit, &c. petitur, &c._

FOOTNOTES:

[627:A] From the short period which elapsed between the date of this

Will and the death of the poet, we must infer, that the "malady

which at so early a period of life deprived England of its brightest

ornament," was sudden in its attack, and rapid in its progress.

[627:B] _Ten per cent._, we find from this passage, was the usual

interest of money in our author's days; and in the epitaph on Mr.

Combe, as preserved by Aubrey, this old gentleman is censured for

taking twelve per cent.:—

"But Combes will have twelve, he sweares and he vowes."

[628:A] —— _to my niece_—) "Elizabeth Hall was our poet's

grand-daughter. So, in Othello, act i. sc. 1., Iago says to

Brabantio: 'You'll have your _nephews_ neigh to you;' meaning his

grand-children."—Malone.

[628:B] Judith died at Stratford, aged 77, and was buried there Feb.

9th, 1662.

[629:A] Joan Hart, the poet's sister, was buried at Stratford, Nov.

4th, 1646.

[629:B] "It is singular that neither Shakspeare nor any of his family

should have recollected the Christian name of his nephew, who was

born at Stratford but eleven years before the making of his will. His

Christian name was _Thomas_; and he was baptized in that town, July 24,

1605."—Malone.

[629:C] Elizabeth Hall, the poet's grand-daughter, was married at

Stratford, on April 22d, 1626, to Thomas Nash, Esq., and after the

decease of this gentleman on April 4th, 1647, she again entered

into the marriage-state with Sir John Barnard of Abington, in

Northamptonshire. The ceremony took place at Billesley near Stratford,

on the 5th of June, 1649, and Lady Barnard died, without issue by

either of her husbands, at Abington, and was buried there on the 17th

of February, 1669-70.

"If any of Shakspeare's manuscripts," remarks Mr. Malone, "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 Stratford 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 any descendant of that

gentleman be now living, in his custody they probably remain."—Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 98.

[629:D] "Mr. Thomas Combe was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 9, 1588-9,

so that he was twenty-seven years old at the time of Shakspeare's

death. He died at Stratford in July 1657, aged 68; and his elder

brother William died at the same place, Jan. 30, 1666-7, aged 80. Mr.

Thomas Combe by his will, made June 20, 1656, directed his executors

to convert all his personal property into money, and to lay it out in

the purchase of lands, to be settled on William Combe, the eldest son

of John Combe, of All-church, in the county of Worcester, gent., and

his heirs male; remainder to his two brothers successively. Where,

therefore, our poet's sword has wandered, I have not been able to

discover."—Malone.

[629:E] _Francis Collins_—) "This gentleman, who was the son of Mr.

Walter Collins, was baptized at Stratford, Dec. 24, 1582."—Malone.

[629:F] "_Hamnet Sadler_ was godfather to Shakspeare's only son, who

was called after him. Mr. Sadler, I believe, was born about the year

1550, and died at Stratford-upon-Avon, in October, 1624. His wife,

Judith Sadler, who was god-mother to Shakspeare's youngest daughter,

was buried there, March 23, 1613-14. Our poet probably was god-father

to their son _William_, who was baptized at Stratford, Feb. 5,

1597-8."—Malone.

[630:A] "_Anthony Nash_ was father of Mr. Thomas Nash, who married

our poet's grand-daughter, Elizabeth Hall. He lived, I believe, at

Welcombe, where his estate lay; and was buried at Stratford, Nov. 18,

1622."—Malone.

[630:B] "Mr. John Nash died at Stratford, and was buried there, Nov.

10, 1623."—Malone.

[630:C] John Hemynge died in October, 1630.

[630:D] Burbage died in March, 1619.

[630:E] Cundell died in December, 1627. For accounts of these three

celebrated performers, see Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. pp. 228. 232.

245., as drawn up by Mr. Malone.

[630:F] Susanna Hall, the poet's favourite daughter, died on the 11th

of July, 1649, aged 66, and was buried in Stratford church on the 16th

of the same month. On her tomb-stone were formerly the following lines

preserved by Dugdale:—

"Witty above her sexe, but that's not all,

Wise to salvation was good Mistriss Hall.

Something of Shakspeare was in that, but this

Wholy of him with whom she's now in blisse.

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.

Her love shall live, her mercy spread,

When thou hast ne're a teare to shed."

[631:A] This messuage or tenement was the house which was mortgaged to

Henry Walker.

[631:B] The poet's wife died on the 6th of August, 1623, and was buried

between her husband's grave and the north wall of the chancel. A brass

plate affixed to her tomb-stone exhibits the following inscription:—

"Ubera, tu mater, tu lac vitamq. dedisti,

Væ mihi; pro tanto munere Saxa dabo!

Quam mallem, amoveat lapidem, bonus Angel' ore

Exeat ut Christi Corpus, imago tua

Sed nil vota valent, venias cito Christe resurget,

Clausa licet tumulo mater, et astra petet."

[631:C] John Hall, M.D. died Nov. 25. 1635, aged 60. His grave-stone in

Stratford church is thus inscribed:—

"Hallius hic situs est medica celeberrimus arte,

Expectans regni gaudia lœta Dei

Dignus erat meritis qui Nestora vinceret annis,

Interris omnes, sed rapit æqua dies;

Ne tumulo, quid desit adest fidissima conjux,

Et vitæ comitem nunc quoq. mortis habet."

INDEX.

*.* _The Roman Numerals refer to the Volumes; the Figures to the Pages

of each Volume._

A

_Acheley_ (Thomas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Acting_, art of, consummately known to Shakspeare, i. 423.

Parts chiefly performed by him, 424, 425.

_Actors_, companies of, when first licensed, ii. 202.

Placed under the superintendence of the masters of the revels, 203.

Their remuneration, 204.

Patronized by the court, 205,

and also by private individuals, whose names they bore, 205, 206.

Days and hours of their performance, 215, 216.

Their remuneration, 223, 224.

_Admission_ to the theatre, in the time of Shakspeare, prices of, ii.

216, 217.

_Adonis_, beautiful address of Venus to, ii. 25, 26.

See _Venus and Adonis_.

_Ægeon_, exquisite portrait of, in the Comedy of Errors, ii. 288.

_Æschylus_, striking affinity between the celebrated trilogy of, and

Shakspeare's Macbeth, ii. 472, 473.

_Affection_ (maternal), exquisite delineation of, ii. 421.

_Affections_ (sympathetic), account of, i. 373, 374.

_Agate_ stone, supposed virtue of, i. 368.

_Agnus Dei_, a supposed charm against thunder, i. 364.

_Air_, spirits of, introduced into the Tempest, ii. 524.

_Akenside_'s "Pleasures of the Imagination" quoted, i. 321, 322.

_Alchemistry_, a favourite pursuit of the age of Shakspeare, ii. 154.

_Alderson_ (Dr.), opinion of, on the cause of spectral visitations,

ii. 405, 406.

His application of them to the character of Hamlet, 408.

_Ale_, synonymous with merry making, i. 175.

Different kinds of Ales, 176.

Leet-ale, 176.

Clerk-ale, _ibid._

Church-ales, 177-179.

_Alehouses_, picture of, in Shakspeare's time, ii. 216-218.

_Alfs_, or bright and swart elves of the Scandinavians, account of,

ii. 308, 309.

_All-Hallow-Eve_, festival of, i. 341.

Fires kindled on that eve, _ibid._

Prayers offered for the souls of the departed, 342.

Supposed influence of fairies, spirits, &c. 342-344.

Spells practised on that eve, 344-347.

_Alliterations_, in the English language, satirised by Sir Philip

Sidney, i. 444.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, probable date of, ii. 422.

Analysis of its characters,—the Countess of Rousillon, 423.

Helen, _ib._ 424, 425.

Remarks on the minor characters, 425.

_Passages of this drama, which are illustrated in this work._

Act i. scene 3., ii. 424.

Act ii. scene 1., i. 108. 175. ii. 434.

scene 2., i. 143. 159.

scene 5., ii. 434.

scene 7., ii. 434.

Act iii. scene 2., ii. 107. 425.

Act iv. scene 10., i. 362.

scene 12., ii. 192.

_All Saints' Day_, festival of, i. 341.

Superstitious observances on its vigil, 341-347.

_Allot_ (Robert), "English Parnassus," i. 723.

List of contributors to this collection of poems, 724.

Critical remarks on the merits of his selection, _ibid._ 725.

_Amadis of Gaul_ (Romance of), popularity of, i. 515.

Notice of English translations of it, 546, 547.

_Amusements_ of the fairies, ii. 342-345.

_Amusements_, national, in the age of Shakspeare, enumerated, i. 246,

247.

Account of the itinerant stage, 247-252.

The Cotswold games, 252-254.

Hawking, 255.

Hunting, 272.

Fowling, 287.

Bird-batting, 289.

Fishing, 289.

Horse-racing, 297.

The Quintaine, 300.

Wild-goose chace, 304.

Hurling, 305.

Shovel-board, 306.

Shove-groat, 307.

Juvenile sports, 308-312.

Amusements of the metropolis and court, ii. 168.

Card playing, 169.

Tables and dice, 171.

Dancing, 172.

Bull-baiting and bear-baiting, 176.

Archery, 178.

Frequenting of Paul's Walk, 182.

Sagacious horses, 186.

Masques and pageants, 187.

Royal progresses, 193.

Dramatic performances, 201-226.

_Anderson_ (James), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Andrewe_ (Thomas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Angels_, different orders of, i. 335.

Account of the doctrine of guardian angels prevalent in Shakspeare's

time, 336.

Supposed number of angels, 337-339.

Remarks on this doctrine by Bishop Horsley, 339, 340.

The supposed agency of angelic spirits, as believed in Shakspeare's

time, critically analysed, ii. 399-405.

And applied to the introduction of the spirit in Hamlet, 407-416.

Superiority of Shakspeare's angelic spirits over those of all other

dramatists, ancient or modern, 417, 418.

_Angling_, notice of books on the art of, i. 290, 291.

Contemplations of an angler, 292, 293.

His qualifications described, 294-296.

Encomium on, by Sir Henry Wotton, 297.

Beautiful verses on, by Davors, 614.

_Anglo-Norman_ romances, account of, i. 523-531.

_Animals_, sagacious, in the time of Shakspeare, notice of, ii. 186,

187.

_Anneson_ (James), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Ante-suppers_, when introduced, ii. 128.

_Anthropophagi_, supposed existence of, i. 385, 386.

Allusions to by Shakspeare, 385.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, date of, ii. 492.

Character and conduct of this drama, 493.

_Passages of this drama which are illustrated in the present work._

Act i. scene 4., i. 129.

Act ii. scene 3., i. 338.

Act iii. scene 9., i. 138.

Act iv. scene 10., i. 308.

_Apemantus_, remarks on the character of, ii. 451, 452.

_Apes_, kept as companions for the domestic fools, ii. 146.

_Aphorisms_ of Shakspeare, character of, i. 517.

_Apparitions_, probable causes of, ii. 406.

Application of them to the character of Hamlet, 406-408.

_Arcadia_ of Sir Philip Sidney, critical notice of, i. 548-552.

Alluded to by Shakspeare, 573, 574.

_Archery_, a favourite diversion in the age of Shakspeare, ii. 178.

The knights of Prince Arthur's round-table, a society of archers,

instituted by Henry VIII., 179.

Encouraged in the reign of Elizabeth, 179, 180.

Decline of archery, 181, 182.

_Arden_ or _Ardern_ family, account of, i. 3.

Shakspeare probably descended from, by the female line, _ibid._

_Ardesoif_ (Mr.), terrific death of, i. 146. note.

_Ariel_, analysis of the character of, ii. 506. 522, 523.

_Ariosto_'s Orlando Furioso, as translated by Sir John Harington,

remarks on, i. 629.

His "Supposes," a comedy, translated by Gascoigne, ii. 233.

_Armin_ (Thomas), complaint of, against the critics of his day, i.

456.

_Arms_, supposed grant of, to John Shakspeare, i. 1.

Real grant and confirmation of, to him, 2, 3.

_Arras Hangings_, an article of furniture, in the age of Shakspeare,

ii. 114, 115.

_Arthington_ (Henry), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Arthur_ and Hubert, beautiful scene between, in the play of King

John, ii. 422.

_Arthur's Chase_, account of, i. 377, 378.

_Arthur's Round Table_, a society of archers, account of, i. 562, 563.

_Arval_, or Funeral Entertainment, account of, i. 238.

_Ascham_ (Roger), complaint of, on the little reward of schoolmasters,

i. 27. _note_, 94.

Improved the English language, 439.

Remarks of, on the cultivation of classical literature in England,

450.;

and of Italian literature, 452.

Notice of his "Scholemaster," 454.

His censure of the popularity of "La Morte d'Arthur," 524, 525.

Design of his "Toxophilus," ii. 181.

_Aske_ (James), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Asses' Heads_, absurd recipe for fixing on the shoulders of man, ii.

351, 352.

_As You Like It_, date of, ii. 431.

Remarks on the general structure of its fable, 431, 432.

Analysis of the character of Jaques, 433, 434.

_Passages of this drama which are illustrated in the present work._

Act i. scene 2., i. 301.

Act ii. scene 1., i. 367. 403.

scene 7., i. 55. ii. 102.

Act iii. scene 2., ii. 115.

scene 3., i. 580.

scene 4., i. 556.

Act iv. scene 1., i. 580. ii. 157.

Act v. scene 4., i. 288. ii. 159.

The Epilogue, i. 218.

_Aubrey_, statement of, respecting Shakspeare's being a butcher, i.

36.

Probability of his account that Shakspeare had been a schoolmaster,

45.

His character of the poet, ii. 615.

_Avale_ (Lemeke), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Autolycus_, remarks on the character of, ii. 500.

B

_Bacon_ (Lord), character of his Henry VII., i. 476.,

and of his "Essays," 512. 517.

_Bag-Pipe_, the ancient accompaniment of the morris-dance and

May-games, i. 164, 165.

_Baldwyne_'s "Myrrour for Magistrates," account of, i. 708, 709.

_Ballads_, early English, notice of a collection of, i. 574-576.

Quotations from and allusions to them by Shakspeare, 577-593.

_Balnevis_ (Henry), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 676.

_Bandello_, principal novels of, translated by Paynter, i. 541.

His novels wholly translated by Warner or Webbe, 543.

_Banquets_, where taken, in the age of Shakspeare, ii. 144.

_Barksted_ (William), encomiastic verses of, on Shakspeare's Venus and

Adonis, ii. 30.

_Barley-Break_, verses on, i. 309.

How played, 310.

Poetical description of, 311.

Scottish mode of playing, 312.

_Barnefielde_ (Richard), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, works

of, i. 676, 677.

Character of his affectionate shepherd, 677. _note_ [677:A].

Verses of, on Shakspeare's Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece, ii. 29.

_Barnes_ (Barnabe), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

Character of his Sonnets, _ibid._ _note_ [677:B].

—— (Juliana), the book of St. Alban's of, reprinted by Markham, i.

70. _note_.

Dedication of it, _ibid._

Account of the edition, with extracts, 71, 72. _notes_.

The treatyse of Fishing not written by her, 290. and _note_.

Different editions of this work, 291.

_Baronets_, order of, when created, ii. 527.

Their arms, 528.

_Barry's_ "Ram Alley," illustrated, i. 224.

_Barson_ or Barston, village, allusion to by Shakspeare, i. 51.

_Bastard_ (Thomas), notice of the epigrams of, i. 677. and _note_.

_Batman_ (Stephen), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Batman_'s translation of "Bartholome de Proprietatibus Rerum," well

known to Shakspeare, i. 485.

_Bear-baiting_, a fashionable amusement in the age of Elizabeth, ii.

176.

Prices of entrance to the bear-gardens, 178.

_Beards_, fashions of, in the age of Shakspeare, ii. 102, 103.

"_Beards Wag all_," the proverb of, explained, i. 143, 144.

_Beaufort_ (Cardinal), dying scene of, i. 390.

_Beaumont_ (Sir John), critical notices of, as a poet, i. 601, 602.

His elegiac tribute to the memory of the Earl of Southampton, ii.

17, 18.

How far he assisted Fletcher, 558.

_Beaumont and Fletcher_, illustrations of the plays of,

Custom of the Country, i. 477.

Fair Maid of the Inn, i. 329.

Knight of the Burning Pestle, i. 477. ii. 282. _note_.

Playhouse to Let, ii. 282. _note_.

Scornful Lady, i. 224.

Woman Pleased, act iv. sc. 1. i. 172, 173.

_Beauty_, exquisite taste for, discoverable in Shakspeare's works, ii.

616-618.

_Bedchambers_, furniture of, in the age of Shakspeare, ii. 117.

_Belemnites_, or Hag-Stones, supposed virtues of, i. 367.

_Belleforest_'s and _Boisteau_'s "Cent Histoires Tragiques," a

collection of tales, notice of, i. 544.

_Bells_, why tolled at funerals, i. 232-234.

Worn by Hawks, 268.

_Beltein_, or rural sacrifice of the Scotch Highlanders on May-day, i.

152.

"_Bel-vedere_, or the Garden of the Muses," a collection of poems,

critical notice of, i. 725, 726.

List of contributors to it, 726, 727.

_Benefices_ bestowed in Elizabeth's time on menial servants, i. 92.

_Betrothing_, ceremony of, i. 220-223.

_Betterton_ (Mr.), visits Stratford, in quest of information

concerning Shakspeare, i. 34.

_Beverley_ (Peter), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Bevis_ (Sir), of Southampton, notice of, i. 565.

Allusions by Shakspeare to the romance of, 565, 566.

_Bezoar_ stones, supposed virtues of, i. 367.

_Bibliography_, cultivated by Queen Elizabeth, i. 428.

Influence of her example, 433.

Account of eminent bibliographers and bibliophiles of her court,

433-436.

_Bidford Topers_, anecdote of them and Shakspeare, i. 48-50.

_Bieston_ (Roger), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Biographical Writers_, during the age of Elizabeth, notice of, i.

482.

_Birds_, different modes of taking in the 16th century, i. 287.

By means of stalking-horses, 288.

Bird-batting described, 289.

_Blackfriars_, theatre in, account of, ii. 209, 210.

_Black Letter_ books, chiefly confined to the time of Elizabeth, i.

438.

_Blenerhasset_ (Thomas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i.

677.

Additions made by him to the "Mirrour for Magistrates," 709.

_Boar's-head_, anciently the first dish brought to table, i. 76.

Ceremonies attending it, 201.

Verses on, _ibid._ 202.

_Boccacio_, principal novels of, translated by Paynter, i. 541.

_Bodenham's_ (John), "Garden of the Muses," a collection of poems, i.

725.

Critical notice of, 726.

List of contributors to it, 726, 727.

_Bodley_ (Sir Thomas), an eminent book collector, notice of, i. 433.

Observation of King James I. on quitting the Bodleian library, 434.

_Bolton_ (Edward), critical notice of his "_Hypercritica_: or Rule of

Judgment for writing or reading our Historys," i. 465, 470-471.

_Bond_ (Dr. John), an eminent Latin philologer, i. 454.

_Booke of St. Albans_, curious title and dedication of Markham's

edition of, i. 70. _note_.

Rarity of the original edition, 71. _note_.

extract from, _ibid._, 72. _note_.

_Book of Sports_, account of, i. 173, 174.

_Books_, taste for, encouraged by Queen Elizabeth, i. 428. 433-435.

Were anciently placed with their leaves outwards, 436.

Were splendidly bound in the time of Elizabeth, 432. and _note_,

436.

Hints on the best mode of keeping books, 436, 437.

Remarks on the style in which they were executed, 437, 438.

_Boors_, or country clowns, character of, in the 16th century, i.

120-122.

_Boots_, preposterous fashions of, in the age of Shakspeare, ii. 106,

107.

_Bourcher_ (Arthur), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Bourman_ (Nicholas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Boys_ (Rev. John), an eminent Grecian, notice of, i. 454.

_Bradshaw_ (Thomas), a minor poet of the age of Shakspeare, i. 677.

_Brathwait_'s English Gentleman cited, i. 258, 259.