That these strictures are too severe, an_Shakspeare and His Times [Vol. 1 of 2] Including the Biography of the Poet; criticisms on his genius and writings; a new chronology of his plays; a disquisition on the on the object of his sonnets; and a history of the manners, customs, and amusements, superstitions, poetry, and elegant literature of his age

apprehended by these ingenious scholars did not necessarily follow, we

have the authority of Milton to prove; who, so far from deprecating

the study of romances as dangerous to morality, declares "that

even those books proved to me so many enticements to the love and

stedfast observation of virtue[525:C];" a passage which appears to

have kindled in the mind of a modern writer, a spirited defence of

the utility of these productions, even at the present day. "There

is yet a point of view," he remarks, "in which Romance may be

regarded to advantage, even in the present age. The most interesting

qualities in a chivalrous knight, are his high-toned enthusiasm, and

disinterested spirit of adventure—qualities to which, when properly

modified and directed, society owes its highest improvements. Such

are the feelings of benevolent genius yearning to diffuse love and

peace and happiness among the human race. The gorgeous visions of

the imagination, familiar to the enthusiastic soul, purify the

heart from selfish pollutions, and animate to great and beneficent

action. Indeed, nothing great or eminently beneficial ever has been,

or can be effected without enthusiasm—without feelings more exalted

than the consideration of simple matter of fact can produce. That

Romances have a tendency to excite the enthusiastic spirit, we have

the evidence of fact in numerous instances. Hereafter, we shall hear

the great Milton indirectly bearing his testimony of admiration and

gratitude for their inspiring influence. It is of little consequence,

comparatively speaking, whether all the impressions made, be founded

in strict philosophical truth. If the imagination be awakened and the

heart warmed, we need give ourselves little concern about the final

result. The first object is to elicit power. Without power nothing

can be accomplished. Should the heroic spirit chance to be excited by

reading Romances, we have, alas! too much occasion for that spirit

even in modern times, to wish to repress its generation. Since the

Gallic hero has cast his malign aspect over the nations, it is become

almost as necessary to social security, as during the barbarism of the

feudal times. There is now little danger of its being directed to an

_unintelligible_ purpose.

"Romances, then, not only merit attention, as enabling us to enter into

the feelings and sentiments of our ancestors,—a circumstance in itself

curious, and even necessary to a complete knowledge of the history

of past ages; they may still be successfully employed to awaken the

mind—to inspire genius: and when this effect is produced, the power

thus created may be easily made to bear on any point desired."[526:A]

The demand for _Morte Arthur_, which continued for nearly two

centuries, produced of course several re-impressions: the _second_

issued from the press of Winkin de Worde in 1498, the colophon of

which, as specified by Herbert, is singularly curious. "Here is the

ende of the hoole boke of kynge Arthur, and of his noble knygtes of

the rounde table. That whane they were hoole togyder, there was ever

an C. and XL. And here is the ende of the deth of Arthur. I praye you

all gentylmen and gentylwymmen that rede thys boke of Arthur and his

knyghtes from the beginnynge to the endynge praye for me whyle I am a

lyue, that, God send me good utterance. And when I am deed, I pray you

all pray for my soule: for the translacion of this boke was fynisshed

the IX. yere of the regne of kyng Edwarde the fourth, by syr Thomas

Maleore knyght, as Jhesu helpe him for his grete myghte, as he is the

servaunt of Jhesu bothe day and nyghte. Emprynted fyrst by William

Caxton, on whose soul God have mercy."[527:A]

The re-impression of De Worde was followed by the editions of

_Copland_, _East_, and _William Stansby_, this last being dated 1634.

Of the elder copies East's was probably the one most generally used

in the reign of Elizabeth, and it differs only in a few unessential

phrases from the edition of Caxton.

La Morte D'Arthur, which, by its frequent republication, kept alive

a taste for romantic fiction, may be considered as giving us, with a

few exceptions as to costume, a very pleasing though somewhat polished

picture of the chivalric romance of the Anglo-Norman period. It has the

merit also of furnishing an excellent specimen of purity and simplicity

in style and diction; qualities which have stamped upon many of its

otherwise extravagant details the most decided features of sublimity

and pathos. A passage in the twenty-second chapter of the second book,

for example, furnishes a noble instance of the former, and the speech

of Sir Bohort, over the dead body of Sir Launcelot, towards the close

of the work, is as admirable a specimen of the latter. These, as short,

peculiarly interesting, and characteristic of the work, we shall

venture to transcribe.

The description of, and the effect arising from, so simple a

circumstance as that of blowing a horn, are thus painted:—

"So hee rode forth, and within three days hee came by a cross, and

thereon was letters of gold written, that said, It is not for a knight

alone to ride toward this castle. Then saw hee an old hoar gentleman

coming toward him, that said, Balin le Savage, thou passest thy bounds

this way, therefore turn againe and it will availe thee. And hee

vanished away anon; and so hee heard an horne blow as it had been the

death of a beast. That blast, said Balin, is blown for mee; for I am

the prize, and yet am I not dead."

Sir Ector de Maris, the brother of Sir Launcelot, after having sought

him in vain through Britain for seven years, has at length the

melancholy satisfaction of recognising the body of the hero, who had

just breathed his last.

"And then Sir Ector threw his shield, his sword, and his helme, from

him. And when hee beheld Sir Launcelot's visage, hee fell downe in a

sowne. And when hee awaked, it were hard for any tongue to tell the

dolefull complaints that he made for his brother. Ah Sir Launcelot,

said hee, thou were head of all christian knights, and now I dare say,

said Sir Bors, that Sir Launcelot, there thou liest thou were never

matched of none earthly knight's hands. And thou were the curtiest

knight that ever beare shield. And thou were the truest friend to

thy lover that ever bestrod horse, and thou were the truest lover of

a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou were the kindest man

that ever stroke with sword. And thou were the goodliest parson that

ever came among presse of knights. And thou were the meekest man

and the gentlest that ever eate in hall among ladies. And thou were

the sternest knight to thy mortall foe that ever put speare in the

rest."[528:A]

We have taken the more notice of this work, not only as it affords

a pretty correct idea of what the old chivalric metrical romance

consisted, but as it was in Shakspeare's time the favourite book in

this branch of literature, and furnished Spenser with many incidents

for his "Faerie Queene."[529:A] It constitutes, in fact, an exemplar

and abridgment of the marvels of the Round Table, such as were

dispersed through a variety of metrical tales, and can only be found

condensed in this production, and of which the popularity may be

considered as an indubitable mark of the taste of the age in which it

was so much admired and cherished.

If it be objected, that, though _Morte Arthur_ was very popular, it

did not originate during our period, it may be answered, that many

prose imitations of the Anglo-Norman romance, the undoubted offspring

of the Elizabethan era, might, if necessary, be mentioned; but one

will suffice, and this has been selected from its having maintained an

influence over the public mind nearly as long as the Death of Arthur.

We allude to the well-known romance entitled _The Seven Champions of

Christendome_, written in the age of Elizabeth by Richard Johnson, the

author of various other productions during this and the subsequent

reign. In what year the first part of the _Seven Champions_ made

its appearance is not known; but the second was published with the

following title and date:—"The Second Part of the famous History of

the Seven Champions of Christendome. Likewise shewing the princely

Prowesse of Saint George's three Sonnes, the lively Sparke of

Nobilitie. With many memoriall atchieuements worthy the Golden Spurres

of Knighthood. Lond. Printed for Cuthbert Burbie, &c. 1597." 4to.

Black letter.[529:B] If Mr. Warton's opinion be correct, that Spenser

was indebted to this work for some incidents in the conduct of his

Faerie Queene, the first part must have been printed before 1590; and

Mr. Todd, indeed, seems to think that the second part "was published

some time after the first[529:C];" a supposition which is corroborated

by the address to the reader prefixed to the second part, in which,

after mentioning "_the great acceptance of HIS First Part_,"

he nevertheless deprecates the severity of criticism to which it had

been exposed: "thy courtesy," he says, "must be my buckler against the

carping malice of mocking jesters, that being worse able to do well,

scoff commonly at that they cannot mend, censuring all things, doing

nothing, but, monkey-like, make apish jests at any thing they see in

print: and nothing pleaseth them, except it savour of a scoffing or

invective spirit;" passages which indicate that the first part of this

romance had been for some length of time before the public. We may

also add, that Johnson is known to have been a popular writer in 1592,

having published in that year his "Nine Worthies of London."

If we except La Morte D'Arthur, and one or two Spanish romances,

which will be afterwards mentioned, the _Seven Champions_ appears to

have been the most popular book of its class. It has accumulated in a

small compass the most remarkable adventures of the ancient metrical

romances, and has related them in a rich and figurative, though

somewhat turgid style. Justice has been done to this compilation, once

so high in repute, both by Percy and Warton: the former speaks of its

"strong Gothic painting," and of its adherence to the old poetical

legends[530:A]; and the latter declares it to contain "some of the

most capital fictions of the old Arabian romance," and instances the

adventure of the ENCHANTED FOUNTAIN.[530:B]

The various editions of this once celebrated compilation attest the

longevity of its fame; and though now no longer the amusement of the

learned and the great, yet is it far from being a stranger to the

literature of our juvenile libraries. A London impression appeared

in 1755, and it has lately been reprinted in a pocket-edition of the

British Classics.

Having thus brought forward _La Morte D'Arthur_ and the _Seven

Champions_ as the most popular _prose_ compilations in Shakspeare's

time from the _Anglo-Norman_ metrical romances, we shall proceed

to notice two collections which were more immediately built on an

ORIENTAL foundation, and which have enjoyed, both at the epoch of

their first translation into English in the sixteenth century, and

subsequently to a very modern date, an almost unrivalled circulation.

A little anterior to the birth of our great poet, W. Copland printed,

without date, a romance entitled _The Seven Wise Masters_, a direct

version from the Latin of a book published in Germany, soon after the

discovery of the art of printing, under the appellation of _Historia

Septem Sapientum_. This interesting series of tales has been traced by

Mr. Douce[531:A] to an _Indian_ prototype; to "The Book of the

Seven Counsellors, or Parables of SENDEBAR or SANDABAR," an Indian

philosopher, who is supposed to have lived about a century before

the Christian æra. The work of this sage, it appears, had been early

translated into Persic, Syriac, Arabic, and, from this latter, into

Hebrew by Rabbi Joel, under the title of _Mischle Sandabar_, a version

which is conjectured to have been made about the middle of the

fourteenth century, and is believed to be the only oriental manuscript

of these Parables which has been subjected to the press; having been

printed at Constantinople in 1517, and at Venice in 1544 and 1608. A

MS. of this Hebrew Sandabar is in the British Museum (Harleian MSS.,

No. 5449.), but no English version of it has been hitherto attempted.

The romance of our Indian fabulist made its next appearance, though

with some alterations in the incidents and names, in _Greek_, under

the title of _Syntipas_, of which many MSS. exist, the greater number

professing to be translated from the Syriac; but in the British Museum

is preserved a copy from the Persic, of so late a date as 1667.

The first _Latin_ version is said to have proceeded from the pen of

Jean de Hauteselve, a native of Lorraine, but the existence of such a

copy is now only known, from its having been translated into _French_

verse, by an ecclesiastic of the name of Herbers, who died 1226, and

who, in the opening of his poem, to which he has given the singular

title of _Dolopatos_, confesses to have taken it from the "_bel Latin_"

of Hauteselve.

Another _French_ version, however, of greater importance, as it makes

a nearer approach to the remote original, and has been the source of

numerous imitations, is preserved in the French National Library, and

numbered 7595. It is a MS. in verse, of the 13th century, and was first

noticed by Mr. Ellis, through a communication from Mr. Douce, who

believes it to be not only the immediate original of many imitations in

French prose, but the source whence an old English metrical romance in

the Cotton Library (Galba, E. 9.) has been taken.

This poem, a large fragment of which exists in the Auchinleck MS.,

is entire in the Cotton Library, and is written in lines of eight

syllables. It is entitled "The Proces of the Sevyn Sages," and Mr.

Ellis refers its composition to a period not later than 1330.[532:A]

The copy, however, which has given rise to the greatest number of

translations, is that already mentioned under the title of "Historia

Septem Sapientum," the first edition of which, with a date, was

published by John Hoelhoff at Cologne in 1490. This was very rapidly

transfused into the German, Dutch, Italian, French, Spanish, English,

and Scotch languages.

Of the _Scotch_ version, which is metrical, and was undertaken by the

translator "at the request of his _Ant Cait_ (Aunt Kate) in Tanstelloun

Castle, during the siege of Leith," 1560, the first edition was printed

at Edinburgh in 1578, with the following title:—"THE SEVIN SEAGES,

TRANSLATIT OUT OF PROIS IN SCOTTIS METER, BE JOHNE ROLLAND, IN

DALKEITH; with ane Moralitie after everie Doctouris tale, and siclike

after the Emprice tale, togidder with ane loving and laude to everie

Doctour after his awin tale, and ane exclamation and outcrying when the

Empreouris wife after hir fals construsit tale. Imprentit at Edinburgh

be John Ros, for Henry Charteries."[533:A]

The prose translation by Copland, which made its appearance between

the years 1550 and 1567, under the title of "The Seven Wise Masters,"

was one of the most popular books of the sixteenth century. It has

undergone a variety of re-impressions, and when no longer occupying its

former place in the hall of the Baron and the Squire, descending to a

less ambitious station, it became the most delectable volume in the

collection of the School-boy. This change in the field of its influence

seems to have taken place in little better than a century after its

introduction into the English language; for in 1674, Francis Kirkman,

publishing a version from the Italian copy of this romance, which he

entitles the "History of Prince Erastus, son to the emperor Diocletian,

and those famous philosophers called The Seven Wise Masters of Rome,"

informs us, in his preface, "that the book of 'The Seven Wise Masters'

is in such estimation in Ireland, that it was always put into the hands

of young children immediately after the horn-book."[533:B]

The "Book of the Seven Counsellors," in short, appears to have been

familiarised in the language of every civilised nation in Asia and

Europe, and though often interpolated and disguised by the admixture

of fables from other oriental collections, and especially from the

fables of Pilpay, it has still preserved, through every transfusion, a

resemblance of its Indian type. Its admission into English literature

contributed to cherish and keep alive the taste for Eastern romance,

which had been generated during the period of the Crusades, and adopted

by the Anglo-Norman minstrels.

If the collection of oriental apologues, to which we have alluded under

the name of Pilpay, had been as early naturalised amongst us, the

effect in favour of oriental fable would probably have been greater;

but it was the fate of this work, though superior in merit perhaps, and

of equal antiquity and similar origin with the Parables of Sandabar,

and alike popular in the East, not to have acquired an English dress

until the eighteenth century. The Heetopades of Veeshnoo Sarma, the

undoubted source of Pilpay's stories, we, at length, possess, in a

correct state, forming certainly the most interesting series of fables

extant.[534:A]

There is another set of tales, however, in their complection almost

entirely oriental, which not only co-operated in their effect, but also

in their period of introduction, with the "Seven Wise Masters," from

the press of Copland.

In 1577 Richard Robinson, a voluminous author who lived by his pen,

published "A record of ancyent historyes intituled in Latin _Gesta

Romanorum_;" and in a catalogue of his productions, written by himself,

and preserved in the British Museum, he says of this work that it was

"translated (auctore ut supponitur Iohane Leylando antiquario) by mee

perused corrected and bettered."[534:B]

This is a partial version of one of two distinct works entitled, _Gesta

Romanorum_, collections of tales in the Latin language which, there is

reason to suppose, originated in the fourteenth century, and certainly

once enjoyed the highest popularity.

Of the _first_, or what may be called the _Continental Gesta_, Mr.

Warton has given us a very elaborate and pleasing analysis. No

manuscript of this primary collection is known to exist, but it was

printed about 1473; the first six editions of it are in folio without

dates; three containing 152 chapters or gests each, and three 181

each, and of those printed with dates, in folio, quarto, octavo, and

duodecimo, a list, amounting to twenty-eight, has been published by

Mr. Douce, from the year 1480 to 1555 inclusive. A Dutch translation

appeared in 1481; a German translation in 1489; the first French

translation with a date in 1521; but no English translation until 1703,

when only forty-five histories or gests were published, the translator,

either from want of encouragement, or from some other cause, having

only printed volume the first of his intended version.

The _second_ or _English Gesta_ must be considered as the discovery of

Mr. Douce, for Warton, not perceiving its frequent discrepancy, had

confounded it with the original work. It is likewise remarkable, that

the circumstances attending its circulation are diametrically different

from those accompanying the prior collection; for while numerous

MSS. of the English Gesta exist in this country, not one copy in the

original Latin has been printed.

It appears from the researches of Mr. Douce, that this compilation very

soon followed the original Gesta, and that the first manuscript may

with great probability be ascribed to a period as early as the reign

of Richard the Second; most of the MSS. however, none of which have

ever been found upon the continent, are of the age of fifth and sixth

Henries, and of these twenty-five are yet remaining preserved in the

British Museum, at Oxford, and in other collections.

As the English Gesta was intended as an imitation of the _Continental_

collection, many of its stories have, of course, been retained; but

these have undergone such alterations in language, and sometimes in

incident, together with new moralizations, and new names, as to give

it, with the addition of forty tales not found in its prototype, the

air of an original work.[535:A] It is not, however, so extensive as

the foreign compilation, the most complete manuscripts containing only

one hundred and two stories; yet as the sources from which it has drawn

its materials are, with a few exceptions, correspondent, in respect to

their oriental origin, with the continental copy, the character which

Mr. Warton has given of the primary, will apply to the secondary,

series.

"This work," he observes, "is compiled from the obsolete Latin

chronicles of the later Roman or rather German story, heightened by

romantic inventions, from Legends of the Saints, oriental apologues,

and many of the shorter fictitious narratives which came into Europe

with the Arabian literature, and were familiar in the ages of ignorance

and imagination. The classics are sometimes cited for authorities;

but these are of the lower order, such as Valerius Maximus,

Macrobius, Aulus Gellius, Seneca, Pliny, and Boethius. To every tale

a _Moralization_ is subjoined, reducing it into a christian or moral

lesson.

"Most of the oriental apologues are taken from the CLERICALIS

DISCIPLINA, or a Latin Dialogue between an Arabian Philosopher and

Edric[536:A] his son, never printed[536:B], written by Peter Alphonsus,

a baptized Jew, at the beginning of the twelfth century, and collected

from Arabian fables, apothegms, and examples.[536:C] Some are also

borrowed from an old Latin translation of the CALILAH U DAMNAH, a

celebrated set of eastern fables, to which Alphonsus was indebted.

"On the whole, this is the collection in which a curious enquirer might

expect to find the original of Chaucer's Cambuscan:—

"Or,——if aught else great bards beside

In sage and solemn tunes have sung,

Of turneys and of trophies hung,

Of forests and inchantments drear,

Where more is meant than meets the ear."[537:A]

Of the translations of the _English_ Gesta, which, owing to the Latin

original not being known upon the continent, are solely confined to the

English language, three only have been noticed; and of these, the first

is a manuscript in the Harleian collection, No. 7,333, of the age of

Henry the Sixth, containing but seventy stories, and which Mr. Douce

conjectures to have been produced either by Lydgate, Gower, or Occleve,

as the English Gesta appears familiar to them, and this version

possesses not only several pieces by Lydgate, but some tales from the

_Confessio Amantis_ of Gower.[537:B]

The first printed translation is said to have issued from the press

of Wynkyn de Worde, though without a date, and this edition has

been mentioned and referred to, both by Mr. Warton[537:C] and Dr.

Farmer.[537:D] Neither Herbert, however, nor Mr. Dibdin, has been

fortunate enough to detect its existence, and if it really had, or has,

a being, it is probably either the manuscript version of the reign of

Henry the Sixth, or the translation to which Robinson alludes as the

work of Leland the antiquary.

We must, therefore, look to Robinson's Translation of 1577, as the

only one which has met with a general and undisputed circulation; and

this was so popular, that in 1601 it had been printed six times by

Thomas Easte.[537:E] The most enlarged edition, however, of Robinson's

version, contains but forty-four stories, and it is, therefore, much

to be regretted, that the Harleian manuscript is not committed to the

press.

As this was then the only English translation accessible to the public,

of a collection of tales which in the original Latin, and under the

same name, had amused the learned and the curious for some centuries,

both on the continent, and for nearly the same space of time on our own

island, we shall not be surprised if we find, in a subsequent page,

that Shakspeare has availed himself of a portion of its contents,

especially as its subjects, and the mode of treating them, coincided

with his track of reading.

The popularity of Robinson's work seems to have extended to the

eighteenth century; for the last edition, which we can now recollect,

is dated 1703, and there is reason to think it the fifteenth, while the

edition immediately preceding was published in 1689, but fourteen years

anteriorly.

If Ascham thought he had reason to complain of the popularity of _Morte

Arthur_, and its associates, he found tenfold cause of complaint in the

daily increasing circulation of ITALIAN ROMANCES AND TALES; "ten _La

Morte d'Arthures_," he exclaims, "doe not the tenth parte so much

harme, as one of these bookes made in _Italie_, and translated in

_Englande_."[538:A]

The frequent communication indeed with Italy, which took place

about the middle of the sixteenth century, had not only induced an

indiscriminate imitation of Italian manners, but had rendered the

literature of the Italians so fashionable, that, together with their

poetry, was imported into this island a multiplicity of their _prose_

fictions and tales, a species of composition that had been cultivated

in Italy with incredible ardour from the period of Sacchetti and

Boccacio.

These tales, by blending with the romantic fiction of the Normans and

Orientals the scenes of domestic life and manners; by introducing

greater complexity and skill in the arrangement of fable and

greater probability in the nature and construction of incident; by

intermingling more frequent and more interesting traits of the softer

passions, and by exciting more powerfully the emotions of pity and

compassion, presented to the public a new and poignant source of

gratification, and furnished the dramatic poets and the caterers for

the then universal appetite for story-telling with innumerable bases

for plays, tales, and ballads.[539:A]

It may be asserted, we believe, with a close approach to accuracy, that

in the space which elapsed between the middle of the sixteenth century,

and the accession of James the First, nearly all the most striking

fictions of the Italian novellists had found their way to the English

press; either immediately translated from the original Italian, or

through the medium of Latin, French, or Spanish versions.

Of these curious collections of prose narrative, real or imaginary,

comic or tragic, it will be thought necessary that we should notice a

few of the most valuable, and especially those to which our great poet

has been most indebted.

One of the earliest of these works and mentioned by Laneham in 1575, as

an article in Captain Cox's library, was entitled _The Hundred Merry

Tales_. This series of stories, though existing in English so late as

1659[539:B], is now unfortunately lost; the probability, however, is,

that it was a translation from _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_, printed

at Paris before the year 1500, and compiled from Italian writers. The

English copy, says Warton, was licensed to be printed by John Waly,

in 1557, under the title of "A Hundreth mery tales," together with

_The freere and the boye, stans puer ad mensam, and youthe, charite,

and humylite_.[540:A] It is again noticed in the register of the

Stationers' Company for 1581, by Ames, under the article for James

Roberts, and in the following manner in a black-letter pamphlet of

1586:—"Wee want not also pleasant mad headed knaves that bee properly

learned and well reade in diverse pleasant bookes and good authors. As

Sir Guy of Warwicke, the Foure Sons of Aymon, the Ship of Fooles, the

Budget of Demandes, _the Hundredth merry Tales_, the Booke of Ryddles,

and many other excellent writers both witty and pleasaunt."[540:B] It

is alluded to by Shakspeare, in his _Much Ado about Nothing_, written

about 1600, where Beatrice complains of Benedict having declared, that

she had "her good wit out of the _Hundred Merry Tales_."[540:C] That

this collection was justly entitled to the epithet _merry_ has been

proved by Mr. Douce, from a reference to the supposed original, in

which only five stories out of the hundred are of a tragic cast, and

where the title, in the old editions, gives further propriety to the

appellation, by terming these tales _Comptes plaisans et recreatiz pour

deviser en toutes compaignies, et Moult plaisans á raconter par maniere

de joyeuseté_.[540:D] It should not be forgotten, however, that the

work entitled _Cento novelle antiche_ was in existence at this period,

though no translation of it is known to have been made, either before

or during Shakspeare's age; nor is it improbable that the term _A

hundred merry tales_, might have become a kind of cant expression for

an attack of personal satire; for Nashe, as Mr. Douce has observed, "in

his _Pappe with an hatchet_, speaks of a book then coming out under

the title of _A hundred merrie tales_, in which Martin Marprelate, i.

e. John Penry, and his friends, were to be satirized."[541:A]

Though no complete translation of the Decameron of Boccacio was

executed before 1620, the greater part of his novels was given to the

public in 1566, by _William Paynter_, in his once popular collection,

entitled "_The Pallace of Pleasure_." This entertaining work occupies

two volumes, 4to.; of which, the first, dedicated to Lord Warwick,

appeared in the year above-mentioned, "containing _sixty_ novels out

of Boccacio," and the second followed in 1567, including thirty-four

novels, principally from Bandello, and dedicated to Sir George Howard.

It appears to have been the intention of the compiler to have added

a third part; for at the close of the second volume, he tells us,

"Bicause sodeynly, contrary to expectation, this volume is risen to

greater heape of leaves, I doe omit for this present time _Sundry

Novels_ of mery devize, reserving the same to be joyned with the rest

of an other part, wherein shall succeede the remnant of _Bandello_,

specially sutch, suffrable, as the learned French man _François de

Belleforrest_ hath selected, and the choysest done in the Italian.

Some also out of _Erizzo_, _Ser Giouanni Florentino_, _Parabosco_,

_Cynthio_, _Straparole_, _Sansovino_, and the best liked out of the

_Queene of Nauarre_, and others;" a passage which is important, as

showing, in a small compass, the nature and extent of his resources.

What motive prevented the continuance of the work, is unascertained; it

certainly could not be want of encouragement, for a second edition of

the first volume, and a third of the second, were published together

in 4to. in 1575, and, as the author informs us in his title, "eftsones

perused, corrected, and augmented" by him. The conjecture of Warton,

that Painter, "in compliance with the prevailing mode of publication,

and for the accommodation of universal readers, was afterward

persuaded to print his _sundry novels_ in the perishable form of

separate pamphlets," is not improbable.

The _Palace of Pleasure_ is, without doubt, not only one of the

earliest, but one of the most valuable selections of tales which

appeared during the reign of Elizabeth; and that it formed one of the

ornaments of Shakspeare's library, and one to which he was in the

habit of referring, the industry of his commentators has sufficiently

established.[542:A]

In the same year with the second volume of Painter's Palace, appeared

"_Certaine Tragicall Discourses_" by _Geffray Fenton_, in one volume

4to. bl. letter. This _passing pleasant booke_, as Turberville terms

it, consists of stories principally from Italian writers, and, in the

dedication to Lady Mary Sydney, the author expresses his high opinion

of their merit, by declaring, "neyther do I thinke that oure Englishe

recordes are hable to yelde at this daye a _Romant_ more delicat and

chaste, treatynge of the veraye theame and effectes of love, than theis

_Hystories_;" an estimate of the value of his collection in which he is

borne out by his friend Turberville, who, in one of the recommendatory

poems prefixed to the book, says—

"The learned stories erste, and sugred tales that laye

Removde from simple common sence, this writer doth displaye:

Nowe men of meanest skill, what Bandel wrought may vew,

And tell the tale in Englishe well, that erst they never knewe:

Discourse of sundrye strange, and tragicall affaires,

Of lovynge ladyes hepless haps, theyr deathes, and deadly cares."

Mr. Warton is of opinion that Fenton's compilation "in point of

selection and size" is "perhaps the most capital miscellany of

this kind."[542:B] In size, however, it is certainly inferior to

Painter's work, and from a survey of its contents with which we have

been indulged, exhibits, in our conception, no superiority to its

predecessor even with regard to selection; it merits, however, the same

honour which is now paying to its rival, that of a re-print.

In 1571 a series of tales, somewhat similar to Fenton's, was published

under the title of "_The Forest_ or collection of Historyes no lesse

profitable, than pleasant and necessary, doone out of Frenche into

English by _Thomas Fortescue_." This production, which forms a quarto

in black letter, and underwent a second, and a third edition, in

1576 and 1596, includes many stories manifestly of Italian birth and

structure, though the work is said to have been originally written in

the Spanish language.

On the authority of Bishop Tanner, as reported by Warton[543:A], we

have to ascribe to the year 1580, a prose version of the _Novelle_ of

_Bandello_, next to Boccacio the most celebrated, at that period, among

the Italian novellists; and more chaste perhaps than any of them in

his sentiments, and more easy and natural in the construction of his

incidents. The translation is said to be by W. W. initials which Mr.

Warton is inclined to appropriate, either to William Warner or William

Webbe.

Another collection of tales, several of which are from Giraldi

Cinthio and other Italian fabulists, was given to the public by

_George Whetstone_, in 1582, under the appellation of _Heptameron_,

a term which had been rendered fashionable by the popularity of a

suite of tales published at Paris in 1560, and entitled, "Heptameron

des Nouvelles de la Royne de Navarre." Whetstone possessed no

inconsiderable reputation in his day; he has been praised as a poet

by Meres and Webbe, and his _Heptameron_, though written in prose,

with only the occasional interspersion of poetry, had its share of

contemporary fame, and the still greater celebrity of furnishing some

portion of a plot to our great dramatic bard.[543:B]

The first volume of a large collection of Italian tales made its

appearance at Paris in 1583, under the title of _Cent Histoires

Tragiques_. This work, the compilation of _Francis de Belleforrest_

and _Boisteau_, was ultimately extended to seven volumes, and a part

of it, if not the whole, appears, on the authority of the Stationers'

edition, however, to which Warton alludes, must have been posthumous;

for Belleforrest died on January 1st, 1583, and that he had printed

selections from the Italian novellists long anterior, is evident from

Painter's reference to them in the second volume of his Palace of

Pleasure, dated 1567. Probably what the historian terms the "_grand

repository_" commenced with the copy of 1583.[544:B]

Independent of these large prose collections of Italian tales, a

vast variety of separate stories was in circulation from the same

source; and many of our poets, such as Gascoigne, Turberville,

&c.[544:C] amused themselves by giving them a metrical and sometimes

a semi-metrical, form. By these means the more rugged features of

the Anglo-Norman romance, were softened down, and a style of fiction

introduced more varied and more consonant to nature.

The taste, however, for the wild beauties of Gothic fabling, though

polished and refined by the elegant imagination of the Italians, was

still cultivated with ardour, and, towards the close of Elizabeth's

reign, was further stimulated, by a fresh infusion of similar imagery,

through the medium of the _Spanish and Portuguese Romances_.

These elaborate, and sometimes very interesting productions, are

evidently constructed on the model of the Anglo-Norman romance, though

with greater unity of design, and with more attention to morality.

There is reason to believe, with Mr. Tyrwhitt, that neither Spain nor

Portugal can produce a romance of this species older than the era of

printing[545:A]; for the manuscript of _Amadis of Gaul_, which has been

satisfactorily proved by Mr. Southey to have been the production of

Vasco Lobeira, and written in the Portuguese language, during the close

of the fourteenth century[545:B], was never printed, and is supposed to

be no longer in existence; while the Spanish version of Garciordonez de

Montalvo, the oldest extant, and which has, in general, passed for the

original, did not issue from the press before the year 1510, the date

of its publication at Salamanca.

This romance, beyond all doubt the most interesting of its

[545:C]class, is well known as one of the very few in Don Quixote's

library which escaped the merciless fury of the Licentiate and the

Barber. "The first that master Nicholas put into his hands was Amadis

de Gaul in four parts; and the priest said, 'There seems to be some

mystery in this; for, as I have heard say, this was the first book of

chivalry printed in Spain, and all the rest have had their foundation

and rise from it; and, therefore, I think, as head of so pernicious a

sect, we ought to condemn him to the fire without mercy.'—'Not so,

sir,' said the barber; 'for I have heard also, that it is the best of

all the books of this kind; and therefore, as being singular in his

art, he ought to be spared.'—'It is true,' said the priest, 'and for

that reason his life is granted him.'"[546:A] Nor is the description

which Sir Philip Sidney has given of the effects of Amadis on its

readers less important than the encomium of Cervantes on its literary

merit; "Truly," says the knight, "I have known men, that even with

reading Amadis de Gaul, have found their hearts moved to the exercise

of courtesy, liberality, and especially courage."[546:B]

The introduction of Amadis into the English language took place in the

year 1592, when the first four or five books were translated from the

French version and printed by Wolfe.[546:C] It experienced the same

popularity here which had attended its naturalisation in France, Italy,

and Spain, and seems to have been in the zenith of its reputation

among us at the close of the Shakspearean era; for Fynes Moryson, who

published his Itinerary in 1617, in his directions to a traveller how

to acquire languages, says, "I think no book better for his discourse

than _Amadis of Gaul_; for the knights errant, and the ladies of

courts, doe therein exchange courtly speeches, and these books are in

all languages translated by the masters of eloquence;" and Burton in

his Anatomy of Melancholy, written about the same period, mentions

_Amadis_ along with Huon of Bourdeaux, as one of the most fashionable

volumes of his day. Such, indeed, is the merit of this romance,

that the lapse of four hundred years has not greatly diminished its

attractions, and the admirable version of Mr. Southey, which, by

rejecting or veiling the occasional indelicacy of the original, has

removed the weightiest objections of Ascham, most deservedly finds

admirers even in the nineteenth century.

Another specimen of this class of romances of nearly equal popularity

with the preceding, though inferior in point of merit, may be instanced

in the once celebrated _Palmerin of England_, which, like Amadis

of Gaul, safely passed the ordeal of the Curate of Don Quixote's

village:—"Let Palmerin of England," says the Licentiate, "be

preserved, and kept as a singular piece: and let such another case be

made for it, as that which Alexander found among the spoils of Darius,

and appropriated to preserve the works of the poet Homer.—Therefore,

Master Nicholas, saving your better judgment, let this and Amadis de

Gaul be exempted from the fire, and let all the rest perish without any

further enquiry."[547:A]

Palmerin of England, like its prototype, Amadis de Gaul, is supposed

to have originated in Portugal. Mr. Southey, indeed, confidently

attributes it to the pen of Francis de Moraes; an ascription which is

in direct opposition to the authority of Cervantes, who asserts it

to have been written by a King of Portugal. It has shared the like

fate, too, in this country, with regard to its translator; Anthony

Munday having been the first to usher Palmerin, as well as Amadis, to

an English public; in fact, though in its original garb it appeared

a century and a half later than the romance of Lobeira, it claims

priority with regard to its English dress, having been licensed to

Charlewood, and printed in 1580.

The multiplicity and rapid succession of extraordinary events in

Palmerin of England, are such as to distract the most steady attention,

and if it really deserved the encomium which the curate bestowed upon

it in comparison with the rest of the worthy knight's library, little

surprise can be excited at the mental hallucinations which the study of

such a collection might ultimately produce.

Of the versions of honest Anthony, one of the most indefatigable

translators of romance in the reign of Elizabeth, not much can be

said, either in point of style or fidelity. Labouring for those who

possessed an eager and indiscriminating appetite for the marvellous,

he was not greatly solicitous about the preservation of the manners

and costume of his original, but rather strove to accommodate his

authors to the taste of the majority of his readers. To enumerate the

various romances which he attempted to naturalise, would be tedious

and unprofitable; the two that we have already noticed, together with

"Palmerin D'Oliva," and "The honorable, pleasant, and rare conceited

Historie of Palmendo[548:A]," were among the most popular, and will be

sufficient to impart an idea of what, among the peninsular works of

fiction, were most in vogue, when romances were as much read as novels

are in the present age.

The last species of romance, which we shall notice as fashionable in

Elizabeth's reign, may be termed the _Pastoral_. Of this class the most

celebrated specimen that we can mention, is the _Arcadia_ of Sir Philip

Sidney, a book well known to Shakspeare, which continued highly popular

for near a century, and reached an eighth edition as early as 1633,

independent of impressions in Scotland, of which one occurs before the

year 1600.[548:B]

The Arcadia appears to have been commenced by its author for the sole

amusement of himself and his sister, the Countess of Pembroke, during

his residence at Wilton, in 1580, and though prosecuted at various

periods was left incomplete at his death in 1586. The affection of

the Countess, however, to whose care and protection the scattered

manuscripts had been assigned, induced her to publish an impression of

it in the year 1590, revised under her own immediate direction; since

which period fourteen editions have borne testimony to the merits of

the work, and to the correctness of the editor's judgment.

To the publication of this far-famed romance, which is in many respects

truly beautiful, and in every respect highly moral, we may attribute an

important revolution in the annals of fictitious writing. It appears to

have been suggested to the mind of Sir Philip, by two models of very

different ages, and to have been built, in fact, on their admixture;

these are the Ethiopic History of Heliodorus, Bishop of Tricca, in

Thessaly, and the Arcadia of Sannazaro, productions as widely separated

as the fourth and the sixteenth centuries. Their connection, however,

will be more readily explained, when we recollect, that a translation

of Heliodorus into English had been published only three years before

the commencement of Sidney's Arcadia. This was the work of Thomas

Underdowne, who printed a version of the ten entire books in 1577,

dedicating them to Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford.[549:A] That the

_English_ Heliodorus was chiefly instrumental in giving this peculiar

direction to the genius of Sidney, was the opinion of Warton; but we

must likewise recollect, that the Arcadia of Sannazaro, with which

Sir Philip, as an excellent Italian scholar, must have been well

acquainted[549:B], presented him with the model for his shepherds, for

their costume, diction, and sentiment, and that, like the English work,

it is a mingled composition of poetry and prose.

Dismissing many of the paraphernalia of the ancient chivalric romance,

its magicians, enchanted castles, dragons, and giants, but retaining

its high-toned spirit of gallantry, heroism, and courtesy, combined

with the utmost purity in morals, and with all the traditionary

simplicity and innocence of rural life, the pastoral romance of Sidney

exhibited a species of composition more reconcilable to probability

than the adventures of Arthur and Amadis, but less natural and

familiar than the tales of the Italians. In these last, however, virtue

and decency are too often sacrificed at the shrine of licentiousness,

whilst in the Arcadia of our countryman not a sentiment occurs which

can excite a blush on the cheek of the most delicate modesty. To this

moral tendency of Sidney's fictions, the muse of Cowper has borne

testimony in the following pleasing lines:—

"Would I had fall'n upon those happier days,

That poets celebrate; those golden times,

And those Arcadian scenes, that Maro sings,

And _Sidney, warbler of poetic prose_.

Nymphs were Dianas then, and swains had hearts.

That felt their virtues: innocence, it seems,

From courts dismissed, found shelter in the groves;

The footsteps of simplicity, impress'd

Upon the yielding herbage, (so they sing)

Then were not all effac'd: then speech profane,

And manners profligate, were rarely found;

Observed as prodigies, and soon reclaim'd."[550:A]

Had the disciples of Sir Philip adhered to the model which he

constructed; had they, rejecting merely his unfortunate attempt to

introduce the Roman metres into modern poetry, preserved his strength

and animation in description, his beauty and propriety of sentiment,

his variety and discrimination of character, the school of Sidney

might have existed at the present hour. On the contrary, whatever was

objectionable and overstrained in their prototype, they found out the

art to aggravate; and by a monstrous and monotonous overcharge of

character, by a bloated tenuity of style, by a vein of sentiment so

quaintly exalted as to have nothing of human sympathy about it, and

by an indefinite prolixity of fable, they contrived to outrage nature

nearly as much as had been effected by the wonders of necromancy

and the achievements of chivalry; and this, too, without producing

a scintillation of those splendid traits of fancy which illumine,

and even atone for, the wild fictions of the Anglo-Norman romance.

The Astrea of D'Urfé, written about twenty years after Sidney's

work, though sufficiently tedious, and frequently unnatural, makes

the nearest approach to the pastoral beauty of the Arcadia; but what

longevity can attach to, or what patience shall endure, the numerous

and prodigious tomes of Madame Scuderi?[551:A]

The shades of oblivion seem gathering fast even over the beautiful

reveries of Sidney, a fate most undoubtedly hastened by the prolix

and perverted labours of his successors; and what was the fashion and

delight of the seventeenth century has generally ceased to charm. So

great, indeed, was once the popularity of the Arcadia, that its effects

became an object of consideration to the satirist and the historian.

In 1631, we find the former thus admonishing the ladies:—"Insteade

of songes and musicke let them learn cookerie and launderie. And

instead of reading _Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia_, let them reade

the groundes of good huswifery."[551:B] But the grave annalist and

antiquary, Fuller, has, with more good sense, vindicated the study

of this moral romance:—"I confess," says he, "I have heard some of

modern pretended wits cavil at the _Arcadia_, because they made it

not themselves: such who say that his book is the occasion that many

precious hours are otherwise spent no better, must acknowledge it also

the cause that many idle hours are otherwise spent no worse than in

reading thereof."[551:C] There is no work, in short, in the department

of _prose-fiction_ which contains more apothegmatic wisdom than the

Arcadia of Sidney; and it is to be regretted that the volume which had

charmed a Shakspeare, a Milton, and a Waller[551:D], and which has

been praised by Temple[552:A], by Heylin[552:B], and by Cowper, should

be suffered, in any deference to the opinion of Lord Orford[552:C], to

slumber on the shelf.

It is with pleasure, however, that we find a very modern critic not

only passing a just and animated eulogium on the Arcadia, but asserting

on his own personal knowledge, that, even in the general classes of

society, it has still its readers and admirers. "Nobody, it has been

said, reads the Arcadia. We have known very many persons who have read

it, men, women, and children, and never knew one who read it without

deep interest and admiration at the genius of the writer, great in

proportion as they were capable of appreciating it. The verses are

very bad, not that he was a bad poet, (on the contrary, much of his

poetry is of high merit,) but because he was then versifying upon an

impracticable system. Let the reader pass over all the eclogues, as

dull interludes unconnected with the drama, and if he do not delight

in the story itself, in the skill with which the incidents are woven

together and unravelled, and in the Shakespearean power and character

of language, with which they are painted; let him be assured the fault

is in himself and not in the book."[552:D]

After this brief survey of the state of romantic literature, and of the

various romances which were most popular, in the days of Shakspeare,

it will be a proper appendage, if we add a few observations on the yet

lingering relics of chivalric costume. That gorgeous spectacle, the

Tournament, in which numerous knights engaged together on either side,

fighting with the sword and truncheon, was latterly superseded by the

joust or tilting-match, consisting of a succession of combats between

two knights at one time, and in which the spear was the only weapon

used. The dexterous management of this military amusement depended

upon striking the front of the opponent's helmet, in such a manner as

either to beat him backward from his horse, or break the spear in the

contest. Jousting or tilting, which was usually celebrated in honour

of the ladies, by whom the prizes were always awarded and distributed,

continued to be a favourite diversion with Elizabeth to the close of

her reign; she was attached to the gallantry which constituted the

soul of these games, and to the splendour which accompanied their

exhibition, and her nobles were not backward in encouraging and

gratifying her romantic taste. Of this a remarkable instance may be

adduced, in the person of Sir Henry Lee, Knight of the Garter, who

vowed that he would annually, while health and strength permitted,

enter the tilt-yard as his sovereign's knight. The completion of this

vow led to annual contentions in the lists, and twenty-five personages

of the first rank, among whom are to be found Lord Leicester, Sir

Christopher Hatton, &c. agreed to establish a society of arms for this

purpose. The presidency of the association was resigned by Sir Henry,

on the plea of infirmity, in 1590, when he formally invested the Earl

of Cumberland with his dignity, one of the most envied at that time, in

the court of Elizabeth.[553:A]

It was usual at these chivalric exhibitions, which ceased on the demise

of their regal patroness, for the combatants, and even the men of

fashion who attended as spectators, to wear a lady's favour on their

arm; and when a knight had tilted with peculiar grace and spirit, the

ladies were wont to fling a scarf or glove upon him as he passed; a

custom which Shakspeare has attributed, as is frequent with him, to an

age long anterior to chivalric usage, for he represents Coriolanus, on

his way to the capitol, as thus honoured:

—————— "The matrons flung their gloves,

Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,

Upon him as he pass'd."[554:A]

It appears also, from a passage in the second part of _King Henry the

Fourth_, that an oath derived from a singular observance in the days of

chivalry, was common in the days of Shakspeare; for Shallow, persuading

Sir John Falstaff to remain with him as his visitor, exclaims, "By

_cock and pye_, Sir, you shall not away to night[554:B];" an adjuration

which Steevens and Ridley refer to a corruption of the sacred name,

and to a service-book of the Romish church, called in this country,

previous to the Reformation, _a pie_; but Mr. Douce has, with more

probability, advanced the origin to which we allude. "It will, no

doubt, be recollected," he observes, "that in the days of ancient

chivalry it was the practice to make solemn vows or engagements for

the performance of some considerable enterprize. This ceremony was

usually performed during some grand feast or entertainment, at which

a roasted peacock or pheasant, being served up by ladies in a dish of

gold or silver, was thus presented to each knight, who then made the

particular vow which he had chosen, with great solemnity. When this

custom had fallen into disuse, the peacock nevertheless continued to

be a favourite dish, and was introduced on the table in a _pie_, the

head, with gilded beak, being proudly elevated above the crust, and the

splendid tail expanded. Other birds of smaller value were introduced

in the same manner, and the recollection of the old peacock vows might

occasion the less serious, or even burlesque, imitation of swearing not

only by the bird itself, but also by the _pie_; and hence probably the

oath _by cock and pie_."[554:C]

As all persons beneath the rank of an esquire were precluded, by

the laws of chivalry, from taking any part in the celebration of

justs and tournaments, while at the same time, a strong desire of

_imitation_ was excited in the public mind, by the attractive nature

of these diversions, it soon became an object with the commonality to

establish something which might bear a striking resemblance to the

favourite amusements of their superiors. Hence the origin of tilting

at the quintain, which we have already noticed in the chapter on Rural

Diversions, and of tilting at the ring and on the water; sports, of

which even the Queen herself condescended not unfrequently to be a

spectator.

Tilting at the ring was considered as the most respectable of the three

amusements, and was generally practised as a preparatory exercise

to the knightly feat of jousting. The ring was suspended at a fixed

height, in a sheath, by the contrivance of two springs, and the object

of the tilter was, while riding at full speed, to thrust the point of

his lance through the ring, drawing it, by the strength of his stroke,

from its sheath, and bearing it away on the summit of his lance.

In this pastime, the horses, as well as the men, required constant

training and practice, and, on the day of contest, the palm of victory

was adjudged to him who in three courses, for this number was allowed

to each candidate, carried the point of his lance the oftenest through

the ring.

Of these games the most vulgar, but the most productive of merriment,

was that of tilting on the water, in which the combatants, standing

in the centre of their respective boats, were armed with a lance

and shield, and he was esteemed the conqueror, who, by a dexterous

management of his weapon, contrived to strike his adversary in such a

manner as to overturn him in the water, while he himself remained firm

and stationary. With this curious exhibition it would appear that the

Queen was highly gratified, on her visit to Sandwich, "where certain

wallounds that could well swym, had prepared two boates, and in the

middle of each boate was placed a borde, upon which borde there stood

a man, and so they met together, with either of them a staff and a

shield of wood; and one of them did overthrow another, at which the

Queene had good sport."[556:A]

To jousting, and to tilting at the ring, some of the most remarkable

relics of expiring chivalry, and of which the latter had attained to

almost scientific precision at the commencement of the seventeenth

century, Shakspeare has several allusions in the course of his

dramas.[556:B] The most striking of these refers to an accident which

not unfrequently occurred, when a knight, unable to manage his horse

with due skill, suffered it to deviate sideways in its career, the

consequence of which was, that instead of breaking his lance in a

direct line against his adversary's helmet, it was broken _across_

his breast, a circumstance deemed highly dishonourable, as the result

either of timidity or want of dexterity:—"O, that's a brave man!"

says Celia, speaking of Orlando, in _As You Like It_, "he writes

brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them

bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of his lover; as a puny

tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a

noble goose."[556:C]

It was about this period too, the close of the sixteenth century, that

another remnant of romantic usage became nearly extinct. We allude to

the profession of the _Minstrel_, which, until the year 1597, had been

cherished or tolerated in this country, from an era as ancient as the

conquest.

During the reign of Elizabeth, indeed, the character of the _Minstrel_,

combining the offices of the poet, the singer, and the musician, and

that of the _Jestour_, or mere reciter of tales and gestes, gradually

lost their importance and respectability, and were no longer protected

by the noble and the opulent. On the accession of the Queen, however,

and for about twenty years afterwards, instances may be adduced

where the Minstrel appears to have acted in his genuine capacity,

that is, as the sole depository of the poems which he chaunted,

and not, as was subsequently the case, the fabricator of songs and

ballads merely for the press. The latest specimens of what may be

termed the old Minstrelsy, Dr. Percy assigns to the years 1569 and

1572, when the ballads entitled "_The Rising in the North_," and

"_Northumberland betrayed by Douglas_," were produced.[557:A] Between

the Minstrel-ballads and those written merely for the press, a marked

difference was usually perceptible, the former exhibiting greater

rudeness of language, with a more northern cast in their structure;

greater irregularity in metre, and incidents more romantic, wild, and

chivalric; while the latter presented altogether a southern dialect,

more correct versification, incidents, though occasionally pathetic,

comparatively tame and insipid, and a costume more modern and familiar.

Of this last kind, were the numerous ballads of the reign of James

the First, frequently collected together, and published under the

appellation of _Garlands_.

There is reason to suppose, notwithstanding the declining state of the

minstrel tribe, that some attention was yet paid to their appearance

and dress; that their ancient distinguishing costume was well known,

and sometimes imitated, and that, especially in the prior half of the

Elizabethan era, a peculiar garb was still attached to their office. We

are warranted in these inferences by contemporary authority: Laneham,

in his description of Elizabeth's entertainment at Killingworth Castle,

in 1575, mentions his having been in company with a person who was

to have performed the character of an _ancient Minstrel_ before the

Queen, "if meete time and place had been foound for it." This man, who

was probably a member of the profession, entertained some worshipful

friends, of which Laneham was one, with a representation of the part

which he should have enacted at the Earl of Leicester's; and it is

remarkable that this assumed minstrel is styled, "_a squire minstrel

of Middilsex, that travaild the cuntree THYS soomer season unto fayrz

and woorshipfull menz houzez_;" a strong proof that the character,

in all its full costume, was not considered as sufficiently bizarre

and obsolete to render such an assertion improbable. "A person very

meete seemed he for the purpose; (we here drop the author's absurd

orthography;) of a XLV years old, apparelled partly as he would

himself. His cap off, his head seemly rounded tonster-wise; fair

kembed, that with a sponge daintily dipt in a little capon's grease,

was finely smoothed to make it shine like a mallard's wing; his beard

smugly shaven; and yet his shirt after the new trink, with ruffs

fair-starched, sleeked, and glistering like a pair of new shoes:

marshalled in good order: with a stetting stick, and stout that every

ruff stood up like a wafer. A side gown of Kendal green, after the

freshness of the year now; gathered at the neck with a narrow gorget,

fastened afore with a white clasp and a keeper close up to the chin,

but easily for heat to undo when he list: seemly begirt in a red caddis

girdle; from that a pair of capped Sheffield knives hanging a to side

(one on each side): out of his bosom drawn forth a lappet of his

napkin, edged with a blue lace, and marked with a true love, a heart,

and a D. for _Damian_; for he was but a batchelor yet.

"His gown had side sleeves down to midleg, slit from the shoulder to

the hand, and lined with white cotton. His doublet-sleeves of black

worsted: upon them a pair of poynets of tawny chamblet, laced along the

wrist with blue threaden joints; a wealt toward the hand of fustian

anapes: a pair of red neather stocks: a pair of pumps on his feet,

with a cross cut at the toes for cornes; not new, indeed, yet cleanly

blacked with soot, and shining as a shoeing horn. About his neck, a red

ribband suitable to his girdle: his harp in good grace dependent before

him: his wrest[558:A] tied to a green lace, and hanging by. Under the

gorget of his gown a fair flagon chain of pewter (for silver); as a

_squire minstrel_ of Middlesex, that travelled the country this summer

season, unto fairs and worshipful mens houses. From his chain hung a

scutcheon, with metal and colour, resplendent upon his breast, of the

ancient arms of Islington.—After three lowly courtsies, 'he' cleared

his voice with a hem and reach, and spat out withal; wiped his lips

with the hollow of his hand for filing his napkin, tempered a string

or two with his wrest, and after a little warbling on his harp for a

prelude, came forth with a solemn song, warranted for story out of

_King Arthur's acts_."[559:A]

In 1592, Henry Chettle, describing _Anthony Now-Now_, an aged and

celebrated minstrel of his own time, represents him as "an od old

fellow; low of stature, his head covered with a _round cap_, his body

with a _tawney coate_, his legs and feete truste uppe in _leather

buskins_, his gray haires and furrowed face witnessed his age, his

_treble viol_ in his hande[559:B];" from which it would appear that

even to the last the members of this tuneful tribe were distinguished

by some peculiarity of dress.

In the mean time, however, they were becoming, through the

dissoluteness of their manners, obnoxious to government, and

contemptible in the public estimation. Stubbes, in the first edition

of his Anatomie of Abuses, 1583, terms them a parcel of drunken

sockets, and baudy parasites, that "raunge the countries," he observes,

"riming and singing of unclean, corrupt, and filthy songs in tavernes,

ale-houses, innes, and other publike assemblies.—There is no ship," he

exclaims, "so laden with merchandize, as their heads are pestred with

al kinds of baudy songs, filthy ballades, and scurvy rymes, serving for

every purpose, and for every company. For proof whereof," he subjoins,

"who bee baudier knaves than they? who uncleaner than they? who more

licentious, and looser minded than they? and brieflie, who more

inclined to all kind of insolency and leudness than they?—I think that

al good minstrels, sober and chast musitions, may dance the wild Moris

through a needles eye." He subsequently adds that, notwithstanding

their immorality, "every toune, citie, and countrey, is full of these

minstrelles to pipe up a daunce to the devill."

That this description is not much exaggerated by the puritanical

severity of its author, is evident from the language of Puttenham,

a courtier and polite writer, who calls this degraded race

"_cantabanqui_," singers "upon benches and barrels heads—minstrels

that give a fit of mirth for a groat—in taverns and ale-houses, and

such other places of base resort[560:A];" a picture corroborated by the

authority of Bishop Hall, who a few years afterwards, speaking of the

exhilarating effect of his own satirical poetry, says it is

"Much better than a Paris-garden beare,

Or prating poppet on a theater,

_Or Mimœ's whistling to his tabouret,

Selling a laughter for a cold meal's meat_."[560:B]

The character which Shakspeare attributes to the minstrel race of this

period, is in accordance with the preceding passages. In the original

edition of his _Rape of Lucrece_, which appeared in 1594, he draws his

heroine exclaiming,

"_Feast-finding_ minstrels, tuning my defame,

Will tie the hearers to attend each line."[560:C]

The epithet in _Italics_ very distinctly points out the vagrant life of

these attendants on merriment and good cheer. They were accustomed to

travel the country, in search of bride-ales, Christmas dinners, fairs,

&c., and wherever they could get access to the halls of the gentry and

nobility.

It is in the _Winter's Tale_, however, that the minstrel of our poet's

age is but too faithfully depicted. In the person of Autolycus, whom

we have already noticed, when describing the country wake, is to be

found, in colours faithful to nature, the very object of Stubbe's

satire, a composition very curiously blending the various functions of

the minstrel, the pedlar, and the rogue.

No harshness therefore can be attributed to the act of Queen Elizabeth,

which in 1597 nearly annihilated an occupation so vilely associated

and degraded. In the fourth chapter of this statute the law enacts

that "all fencers, bearwards, common players of enterludes, and

MINSTRELLS, wandering abroad; all juglers, tinkers, pedlars, &c. shall

be adjudged and deemed _rogues_, _vagabonds_, and _sturdy beggers_;" a

clause which, very deservedly, put an end to a profession which, though

once highly respectable and interesting, no longer had a claim to

public support; a clause which enabled Dr. Bull to say, with much truth,

"Beggars they are with one consent,

And Rogues, by Act of Parliament."[561:A]

Of the use which Shakspeare made of the various romances, tales, and

ballads which undoubtedly occupied a large portion of his library, an

accurate estimate may be formed from a close inspection of his dramas.

It will be found, that, with the exception of the Historical plays,

derived either from English chronicles or translations of classic

story, the residue of his dramatic productions may be traced to sources

exclusively existing within the regions of romantic literature. As we

shall have occasion, however, hereafter to notice the origin of each

drama, as it passes before us in chronological succession, it will

merely be necessary in this place, in order to afford some proof of

his familiarity with these fictions, to select a few specimens of his

allusion to them from the body of his plays.

That our poet was well acquainted with the celebrated Romance, entitled

_Mort d'Arthure_, the most popular of its class, would have been

readily admitted from the known course of his studies, even if he had

not once alluded to it in the course of his works. In the _Second

Part_, however, of _King Henry the Fourth_, he makes _Shallow_,

vaunting of his youthful feats to Falstaffe, say, "I was then _Sir

Dagonet_ in _Arthur's show_[562:A];" a line upon which Mr. Douce

observes, "Whatever part Sir Dagonet took in this show would doubtless

be borrowed from Mallory's romance of the _Mort Arture_, which had been

compiled in the reign of Henry VII. What there occurs relating to Sir

Dagonet was extracted from the excellent and ancient story of _Tristan

de Leonnois_, in which Dagonet is represented as the fool of king

Arthur[562:B];" a character certainly well adapted to the powers of the

worthy justice.

It should, however, be remarked, that the _Arthur's show_ in this

passage was not, what it might at first be supposed, an exact

representation of the ancient chivalric costume of that romantic

Prince and his knights, but principally an exhibition of _Archery_ by

a toxophilite society, of which Richard Robinson, the translator of

the English Gesta, has given us an account under the title of "_The

Auncient Order Societie, and Unitie Laudable, of Prince Arthure and his

knightly Armory of the Round Table. With a Threefold Assertion friendly

in favour and furtherance of English Archery at this day_." 1583.

4to.[562:C]

These city-worthies, to the number of fifty-eight, it would seem,

had for some time assumed the arms and the names of the knights of

the Round Table, and Robinson, who the year before had published a

translation of Leland's _Assertio Arthvrii_, thought proper to dedicate

his _Ancient Order_ to M. Thomas Smith, Esq., the then Prince Arthur

of this fellowship, and compliments him by deducing his society from

the establishment of the round table in the reign of Edward the First.

"But touching your famous order and fellowship of knights in shooting,

though in K. E. I. his time (ann. 1279) a valiant Knight and manly

Mortimer at Kenelworth appointed a knightly game, which was called the

Round Table of 100 knights and so manie Ladies (nameth not expressely

shooting to be one) yet for exercise of armes thither came many warlike

knightes of divers kingdomes. And the most famous and victorious king

E. 3. builded at Winchester (ann. 1344) an house called the Round Table

of an exceeding compasse, to the exercise of like or farre greater

Chevalry therin:—So the most famous, prudent, politike and grave

prince K. Henry the 7 was the first Phenix in chusing out a number

of chiefe Archers to give daily attendance upon his person, whom he

named his Garde. But the high and mighty renowned prince his son, K.

H. 8. (ann. 1509) not onely with great prowes and praise proceeded in

that which his father had begon; but also added greater dignity unto

the same, like a most roial renowned David, enacting a good and godly

statute (ann. 33. H. 8. cap. 9.) for the use and exercise of shooting

in every degree. And furthermore for the maintenance of the same

laudable exercise in this honourable city of London by his gratious

charter confirmed unto the worshipful citizens of the same, this your

now famous order of Knights of Prince Arthures Round Table or Society:

like as in his life time when he sawe a good Archer indeede, he chose

him and ordained such a one for a knight of the same order."[563:A]

As this "_friendly and franke fellowship_ of Prince Arthur's Knightes,"

as Mulcaster terms it in his Positions[563:B], bore little resemblance

to its celebrated archetype in any point of chivalric observance,

beyond the name; and as archery had ceased to be an object with

government in a military light, and was considered indeed, in the

reign of James I., as a mere pastime, the society, though respectable

in the days of Robinson and Mulcaster, soon dwindled into contempt,

an idle mockery of an institution which had originally been great and

imposing.

In MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, our author very distinctly refers to another

of Captain Cox's romances, _Huon of Bourdeaux_, a production of equal

popularity with Morte Arthure, and which was translated into English by

Lord Berners, in the reign of Henry the Eighth[564:A], under the title

of _Sir Hugh of Bourdeaux_. Benedict being informed of the approach

of Beatrice, addresses Don Pedro in the following terms:—"Will your

grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the

slightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me

on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the farthest inch of Asia;

bring you the length of Prester John's foot; _fetch you a hair of the

great Cham's beard_; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than

hold three word's conference with this harpy."[564:B] The passage in

Italics, together with the spirit of the context, will be discovered in

the subsequent command and achievement.

"Thou must goe to the citie of Babylon to the Admiral Gaudisse,

to bring me thy hand full of the heare of his beard, and foure of

his greatest teeth. Alas, my lord, (quoth the Barrons,) we see

well you desire greatly his death, when you charge him with such a

message."[564:C]

"He opened his mouth, and tooke out his foure great teeth, and then cut

off his beard, and tooke thereof as much as pleased him."[564:D]

This version of Lord Berners furnished Shakspeare with the name,

though not with the character, of _Oberon_.

The SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH supplies us with a reference

to the ancient romance of _Sir Bevis of Southampton_. In the combat

between Horner and his servant Peter, the former exclaims—"Peter, have

at thee with a downright blow, _as Bevis of Southampton fell upon_

Ascapart."[565:A]

This romance, which forms the fourth article in the Coventry Library,

was once highly popular, though possessing little merit. It was printed

by Pynson, and issued twice from the press of Copland, and once from

that of East. It has been since frequently republished, in various

forms, for the amusement of the juvenile part of the community.

Of the hero of the tale, Selden has left us the following notice in

his notes on the Polyolbion:—"About the Norman invasion was Bevis

famous with the title of Earl of Southampton; Duncton in Wiltshire

known for his residence.—His sword is kept as a relique in Arundel

Castle; not equalling in length (as it is now worn) that of Edward 3,

at Westminster."[565:B]

Shakspeare has done further honour to this legend, by putting two lines

of it into the mouth of Edgar. Bevis, being confined in a dungeon, was

allowed neither meat nor corn, but

"Rattes and myce and such smal dere

Was his meate that seven yere;"

a distich which the supposed madman in Lear has thus, almost verbally,

adopted:—

"But mice, and rats, and such small deer,

Have been Tom's food for seven long year."[566:A]

Dr. Percy has observed that Shakspeare had doubtless often heard this

metrical romance sung to the harp[566:B]; the popularity of these

legends, indeed, was such that, towards the end of Elizabeth's reign,

most of them were converted into prose, a degradation which befel Sir

Bevis, Sir Guy of Warwick, and many others of equal celebrity. To this

last romance Shakspeare has an allusion in his _King John_, where the

bastard speaks of

"Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man,"[566:C]

the defeat of this Danish Goliah, in single combat, by Sir Guy, being

one of the leading features of the story.

It is highly probable, that the achievement ascribed to King Richard,

in this play, of tearing out the lion's heart[566:D], was immediately

derived from a copy of the old metrical romance in the poet's library.

It is true that the chronicles of Fabian and Rastall have detailed

this fiction, and there is no doubt, from the same authority; but

the metrical legend of Richard Cœur de Lion being one of the most

popular of the Anglo-Norman romances, and having been thrice printed,

twice by W. De Worde, and once by Will. Copland, there is much reason

to conclude that an acknowledged lover, and collector, of this branch

of literature would prefer taking his imagery from the poem itself,

more especially if it rested upon his shelves.

It appears from this romance, that Richard not only tore out the

heart of the lion, but, dipping it in salt, eat it before the eyes of

the astonished king of Almain, a feat which instantly drew from His

Majesty the peculiar appellation which designates the tale:—

"Yevis, as I understand can,

This is a devil, and no man,

That has my strong lion y-slawe,

The heart out of his body drawe,

And has it eaten with good will!

He may be called, by right skill,

King y-christened of most renown,

Strong _Richard Cœur de Lion_!"[567:A]

The play of _Henry the Fifth_ furnishes a reference to the fifth

article in Laneham's catalogue of the Coxean collection. Fluellen

compelling Pistol to eat his leek, tells him,—"You called me

yesterday, mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a _squire of low

degree_."[567:B]

This romance, which was licensed to John Kynge on the tenth of June

1560[567:C], and printed by William Copland before 1570[567:D], was

one of the most popular of the sixteenth century, and possesses some

striking traits of manners, and several very curious poetical sketches.

It is twice alluded to by Spenser[567:E] in his Faerie Queene, and has

been supposed, though probably without sufficient foundation, to have

existed in manuscript anterior to the age of Chaucer.[567:F]

There are some scenes in Shakspeare which appear to have been

originally derived from _Oriental_ fable. Thus, in _Twelfth Night_, the

leading ideas of Malvolio's soliloquy (act ii. sc. 5.), bear a strong

resemblance, as Mr. Tyrrwhitt observes, to those of Alnaschar, in _The

Arabian Nights Entertainments_; an observation which has drawn from Mr.

Steevens the following curious and pertinent note:—

"Many Arabian fictions had found their way into obscure Latin and

French books, and from thence into English ones, long before any

professed version of _The Arabian Nights Entertainments_ had appeared.

I meet with a story similar to that of Alnaschar, in _The Dialoge of

Creatures Moralysed_, bl. l. no date, but probably printed abroad:

'It is but foly to hope to moche of vanyteys. Whereof it is told in

fablis that a lady uppon a tyme delyuered to her mayden a galon of

mylke to sell at a cite. And by the waye as she sate and restid her

by a dyche side, she began to thinke y{t} with ye money of the mylke

she wolde bye an henne, the which shulde bring forth chekyns, and when

they were grownyn to hennys she wolde sell them and by piggis, and

eschaunge them into shepe, and the shepe into oxen; and so whan she was

come to richnesse she sholde be married right worshipfully unto some

worthy man, and thus she rejoycid. And when she was thus marvelously

comfortid, and ravished inwardely in her secrete solace thinkynge with

howe great joye she shuld be ledde towarde the churche with her husbond

on horsebacke, she sayde to her self, Goo wee, goo wee, sodaynelye she

smote the grounde with her fote, myndynge to spurre the horse; but her

fote slypped and she fell in the dyche, and there laye all her mylke;

and so she was farre from her purpose, and never had that she hopid to

have. Dial. 100, LL. ij b."[568:A]

We may also refer the _Induction_ to the _Taming of the Shrew_ to the

same source, to _The Sleeper awakened_, in the Arabian Nights, a tale

which seems to have crept from its oriental fountain through every

modern European language. Its earliest appearance in English that can

now be traced, is derived from the information of Mr. Warton, who

informs us that his friend Mr. Collins, the celebrated lyric poet, had

in his possession a collection of short comic stories in prose, "sett

forth by maister Richard Edwards, mayster of her Majesties revels,"

and with the date of 1570. This book, which was printed in the black

letter, contained the story of the _Induction_, and was, there is

little doubt, the source whence Shakspeare and the author of the elder

_Taming of the Shrew_ drew their outline.[569:A] A similar tale is

the subject of a ballad in the Pepysian collection, which has been

published by Percy[569:B], and it is to be found also in Sir Richard

Barckley's _Discourse on the Felicitie of Man_, 1598, in Goulart's

_Admirable and Memorable Histories_, translated by E. Grimstone, 1607;

in Burton's _Anatomie of Melancholy_, 1615; in _The Apothegms of King

James, King Charles, the Marquis of Worcester_, &c. 1658, and in

Winstanley's _Historical Rarities_, 1684.[569:C] Some of the Arabian

Tales and some of the Fables of Pilpay may be traced in _The Seven Wise

Masters_, and in the English _Gesta Romanorum_.

To romances of _Italian_ origin and structure, such as were exhibited

in English versions often mutilated and incorrect, our author's

obligations are so numerous, particularly with regard to the formation

of plot, that, referring to a future consideration of each play for

further illustration on these subjects, we shall only remark in this

place, that many of the faults which have been ascribed to Shakspeare's

want of judgment in the conduct of his dramas, are attributable to the

necessity he was under, either from want of power or want of time, of

applying to versions and imitations in lieu of the originals; a species

of accommodation which frequently led him to adopt the mistakes of a

wretched translation, when a reference to the Italian would immediately

have induced a better choice. This will account for many of the

charges which Mrs. Lennox has brought against the poet, in respect to

deficiency of skill in the arrangement of his incidents.[569:D]

The _First Part of King Henry the Fourth_ presents us with an allusion

to one of those _Spanish_ romances which became so popular towards the

close of Elizabeth's reign. Falstaff, in answer to the Prince, who had

told him, that he saw no reason why he should "be so superfluous to

demand the time of the day," replies, "Indeed, you come near me now,

Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not

by Phœbus,—he, _that wandering knight so fair_."[570:A]

The romance to which this passage stands indebted, is entitled, in the

best and most complete edition, "_Espeio de Principes, y Cavalleros.

En el qual se cuentan los immortales hechos de CAVALLERO DEL FEBO_,"

&c. &c., four parts, folio, and is the subject of the Barber's eulogium

in Don Quixote. "He (the Don) had frequent disputes with the priest

of his village, who was a learned person, and had taken his degrees

in Ciguenza, which of the two was the better knight, Palmerin of

England, or Amadis de Gaul. But master Nicholas, barber-surgeon of

the same town, affirmed, that none ever came up to the _Knight of the

Sun_."[570:B]

This production, the first part of which was translated into English,

under the title of _The Myrrour of Knighthood_, was well known in

Shakspeare's time; the second part of the first book having been

printed in the black letter, by Thomas Este, in 1585.[570:C] The whole

occupies three volumes in 4to., and in it the Knight of the Sun is

represented not only as "most excellently _faire_," but as a prodigious

_wanderer_; so that Falstaff, who, by an easy association, digresses

from Phœbus to this solar knight-errant, has very compendiously combined

his characteristics.

It is probable that the celebrated passage in Hamlet's soliloquy, where

the prince speaks of

"The undiscovered country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns,"[571:A]

may have been founded on a similar idea in the Spanish romance entitled

_Palmerin d'Oliva_. The translation of Palmerin was first printed in

1588, and in Part II. chap. 3. the reader must be struck with the

following words,—"before he took his journey wherein no creature

returneth agaie." Now, as Hamlet, according to the chronological

arrangement of Mr. Malone, was not written until 1596, and Palmerin

d'Oliva may certainly be reckoned among the most fashionable romances

of its day, the conjecture is entitled to attention. It is necessary,

however, to add, that we are altogether indebted for it to a learned

and ingenious correspondent in the British Bibliographer, whose initial

signature is W. and whose acquaintance with romantic lore appears to be

equally accurate and profound.[571:B]

To this gentleman we are under further obligation for the confirmation

of a supposition made by Mr. Douce, who, commenting on this part of

Hamlet's soliloquy, refers it to a passage in the _History of Valentine

and Orson_, and adds,—"It is probable that there was an edition of

Valentine and Orson in Shakspeare's time, though none such is supposed

now to remain."[571:C]

Such an edition, it appears, is in the possession of the correspondent

of Sir Egerton Brydges, who has given us a description of it, together

with the following title, as drawn from the colophon:—"_The historie

of the two valyante brethren Valentyne and Orson, sônes vn to the

Emperour of Græce. Imprinted at London over a gaynst St. Margaretes

Churche in Lothbery be William Coplande._" Small 4to. b. l. sig. I.

i. 5. wood-cuts.[572:A] The antiquity of this copy, though without

date, is ascertained by the circumstance, that Will. Copland, the

printer, died between the years 1568 and 1569; and there is even

reason to suppose, that this is but a re-impression, for, after the

table of contents, a short note states, "Here endeth the table _newly

correcte_."[572:B]

The reference of Mr. Douce is to page 63 of the edition of 1694, in

which occurs a sentence which undoubtedly bears a striking resemblance

to the lines of Shakspeare:—"I shall send some of you here present

_into such a country, that you shall scarcely ever return again_ to

bring tydings of your valour."[572:C]

That our great poet was as well versed in the pages of Valentine

and Orson, as have been the school-boys of this country for the

last century, is our firm belief. "It would be difficult," says the

possessor of Copland's edition, "to find a reader of the present day,

who had not in the hour of childhood voted a portion of his scanty

stipend to the purchase of 'Valentine and Orson,' and withdrawn for

a few hours from more laborious exercises, or amusements, to peruse

its fascinating pages;" and equally difficult would it have been, in

Shakspeare's days, to have found a person of liberal education, who had

not devoted a portion of his leisure to the perusal of this simple but

energetic romance.

From the numerous corresponding passages, however, cited by our

author's commentators, from the period of Catullus to the seventeenth

century, it would seem that the idea, and even the terms in which it

has been expressed, may be considered as a kind of common property, and

consequently rather a mark of coincidence than imitation.

Of the _Arcadia_ of Sir Philip Sidney, the best _pastoral_ romance, and

one of the most popular books of its age, we cannot be surprised that

Shakspeare should have been an ardent admirer, and that occasionally

he should have been indebted to it for an incident or an image. The

first scene of the fourth act, in the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, in

which Valentine accepts the captainship of a band of outlaws, appears

to be founded on that part of the Arcadia where Pyrocles, released from

prison by the Helots, consents to be their leader and captain.[573:A]

More certainly is the episode of Gloster and his sons, in King Lear,

derived from the same work, the first edition of which, published in

1590, being divided into chapters, exhibits one with this title:—"The

pitifull state and storie of the Paphlagonian unkinde king, and his

kinde sonne: first related by the sonne, then by the blind father."

The subsequent editions omit the divisions into chapters, and in the

copy before us, which is the seventh impression, the story commences at

page 132, being part of the second book. As no other source for this

narrative than the _Arcadia_, has hitherto been traced, and as the

similarity of incident is considerable, there can be little doubt but

that this portion of _King Lear_ must confess its obligation to the

romance.

The appellation, also, given to Cupid, in a passage in _Much Ado about

Nothing_, is evidently to be referred to a line in the _Arcadia_. Don

Pedro, speaking of Benedict, says, "he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's

bow-string, and the little _hangman_ dare not shoot at him."[573:B] It

has been conjectured, that the word in Italics should be _hench-man_, a

page or attendant; but to decide the question it is only necessary to

quote the words of Sidney:—

"Millions of yeares this old drivell Cupid lives;

While still more wretch, more wicked he doth prove:

Till now at length that Jove him office gives,

At Juno's suite, who much did Argus love,

In this our world a _hangman_ for to be

Of all those fooles that will have all they see."[573:C]

If, from this catalogue of allusions, our author's intimacy with the

romances of his age, may be considered as proved, his familiarity with

the _ballads_ and _songs_ of the same period will not be deemed less

extensive, or less admitting of demonstration. Throughout his dramas,

indeed, a peculiar partiality for these popular little pieces is very

manifest; he delights to quote them, wherever he can find a place for

their introduction, and his own efforts in this line of poetry are

often of the utmost simplicity and beauty.

How strongly he felt this predilection for the strains of our elder

minstrelsy, and how exquisitely he has expressed his attachment to

them, must be in the recollection of all who have ever read, or seen

performed, his admirable comedy of the _Twelfth Night_, in which the

Duke exclaims,—

"Give me some musick:—but that piece of song,

That old and antique song we heard last night,

Methought it did relieve my passion much;

More than light airs and recollected terms,

Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:—

Mark it, Cæsario; it is old, and plain:

The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,

And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones,

Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth,

And dallies with the innocence of love,

Like the old age."[574:A]

Before we notice, however, the ballads which Shakspeare has quoted,

or to which he has alluded, it will be satisfactory, if, to the

articles specified in Captain Cox's "Bunch of Ballets and Songs,"

we add a few more of similar popularity, and from a source equally

rare and authentic. In the _British Bibliographer_, Mr. Haslewood has

given us a description of the fragment of a tract in his possession,

entitled THE WORLD'S FOLLY, printed, as he concludes, from the type,

before 1600, and from which, "as every allusion," he justly observes,

"to our early ballads is interesting," he has obliged his readers

with some very curious quotations. "The author," he remarks, "appears

to describe the purgatory of Folly. He wanders from room to room,

and to each new character assigns a ballad, that may be presumed was

distinguished for popularity. A man, whose credit had decayed by

trusting servants, and had commenced botcher, 'had standing by him, for

meate and drinke, a pot of strong ale, which was often at his nose,

that it kept his face in so good a colour, and his braine in so kinde a

heate, as forgetting part of his forepassed pride, in the good humour

of grieving patience, made him with a hemming sigh, ilfavourdly singe

the ballad of _Whilom I was_: to the tune of _Tom Tinker_.' An old

man, shaking with palsy, who, 'having beene a man of some possessions,

and with too fat feeding of horses, too high keeping of hawkes, and

too much delighting in banquetinges, through lacke of husbandrie, was

forced to leave himself without lande; . . . after many a deepe sighe,

with a hollow voice, in a solemne tune, with a heavie hearte fell to

sing the song of _Oken leaves began wither_: to the tune of _Heavilie,

heavilie_.' A dapper fellow that in his youth had spent more than he

got on his person, 'fell to singe the ballad of the _blinde beggar_: to

the tune of _Heigh ho_.' The general lover, having no further credit

with beauty, 'howled out the dittie of _When I was faire and young_: to

the tune of _Fortune_. The next is whimsically described as 'one that

was once a virgin, had beene a little while a mayde, knew the name of

a wife, fell to be a widdow,' and finally a procuress; 'she would sing

the _Lamentation of a sinner_: to the tune of _Welladaye_.' A decayed

prostitute, who had become laundress to the house, 'stood singing the

ballet of _All a greene willowe_: to the famous tune of _Ding Dong_.'

A man with good personage, with a froward wife, 'hummed out the balled

of _the breeches_: to the tune of _Never, never_.' His termagant spouse

drewe from her pocket 'a ballad of _the tinker's wife that beate

her husbande_.' To the last character in the fragment is also given

Raleigh's ballad. He was 'one that had beene in love, sat looking on

his mistresse picture, making such a legge to it, writing such verses

in honour to it, and committing such idolatrie with it, that poore man,

I pittied him: and in his behalfe sorrowed to see how the Foole did

handle him: but there sat he, hanging his head, lifting up the eyes,

and with a deepe sigh, singing the ballad of _Come live with me and be

my love_: to the tune of _adieu my deere_.'"[576:A]

It is, notwithstanding, to the dramas of our poet, that we must look

for more copious intimations relative to the ballad-poetry of the

sixteenth century, and of the first ten years of the reign of James the

First. The list which we shall collect from his works, in the order in

which they are usually published, will sufficiently evince his love

for these productions, and, at the same time, afford a pretty accurate

enumeration of those which were esteemed the most popular of his age.

Yet, in forming this catalogue of Shakspearean ballads and songs, it

may be necessary to premise, that it is not our intention to comment

on the original pieces of our author in this branch of poetry, which

will fall under consideration in a subsequent chapter; but merely

to confine our notices to his quotations from and allusions to the

minstrel strains of others. We commence, therefore, with the ballad of

_Queen Dido_, which the poet had no doubt in view, when he represents

Gonzalo in the _Tempest_ so familiar with her name and history.[576:B]

That this was a favourite song with the common people appears from a

passage in a scarce pamphlet quoted by Mr. Ritson, and published in

1604. "O you ale-knights, you that devoure the marrow of the mault,

and drinke whole ale-tubs into consumptions; that sing _Queen Dido_

over a cupp, and tell strange newes over an ale-pot."[576:C] Dr. Percy,

who has published a correct copy of this old ballad from his folio MS.

collated with two different printed copies, both in black letter, in

the Pepysian collection, terms it "_excellent_;" an epithet justly

merited, for, though blended with the manners of a Gothic age, it is

certainly both pathetic and interesting.

Mrs. Ford, in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_, speaking of Falstaff's

proposals, says, that his disposition and his words "do no more adhere

and keep place together than the hundredth psalm to the tune of _Green

Sleeves_."[577:A] This seems to have been a very popular song about

1580, for it is licensed several times during this year, and entered

on the books of the Stationers' Company, under the titles of "A newe

northerne dittye of the Lady _Green Sleeves_," and "A new Northern Song

of _Green Sleeves_, beginning

"The bonniest lass in all the land."

It is mentioned by Beaumont and Fletcher in _The Loyal Subject_, but is

supposed to be now no longer extant.

In the same play, Falstaff alludes to another old song, which was

entitled _Fortune my foe_[577:B], enumerating all the misfortunes

incident to mankind through the instability of fortune. Of this ballad,

which is mentioned by Brewer in his _Lingua_[577:C], twice by Beaumont

and Fletcher[577:D], and by Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy[577:E],

the tune is said to be the identical air now known by the song of

"Death and the Lady;" and the first stanza, observes Mr. Malone, was as

follows:—

"_Fortune, my foe_, why dost thou frown on me?

And will my fortune never better be?

Wilt thou, I say, for ever breed my pain,

And wilt thou not restore my joys again?"[577:F]

Sir Hugh Evans, in the first scene of the third act of this[577:G]

play, quotes, though from his trepidation very inaccurately, four

lines from two of the most popular little madrigals at the close

of the sixteenth century, entitled _The Passionate Shepherd to His

Love_, and _The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd_; the first written

by Christopher Marlow, and the second by Sir Walter Raleigh. These

had been attributed, however, to Shakspeare, in consequence of their

being included in a copy of his smaller poems printed by William

Jaggard in 1599. This edition being published during the life-time of

the poet, gave currency to the ascription; but in the year following

Marlow's poem appeared in _England's Helicon_, with his name annexed,

and Raleigh's with his usual signature of _Ignoto_[578:A]; and Isaac

Walton, in the first edition of his _Compleat Angler_, printed in

1653, has attributed these pieces to the same authors, describing

them as "that smooth song, which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least

fifty years ago; and—an Answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter

Raleigh in his younger days—old fashioned poetry," he adds, "but

choicely good; I think much better then the strong lines that are now

in fashion in this critical age."[578:B] Had Marlow written nothing but

this beautiful song, he would yet have descended to posterity as an

excellent poet; the imitations of it have been numerous.

The _Twelfth Night_ presents us with a variety of fragments of ballads,

songs, and catches; Sir Andrew Ague-cheek calls for the catch of

_Thou Knave_, of which the words and musical notes are given by Sir

J. Hawkins[578:C]; Sir Toby compares Olivia to _Peg-a Ramsay_, a

licentious song mentioned by Nash among several other ballads, such

as _Rogero_, _Basilino_, _Turkelony_, _All the Flowers of the Broom_,

_Pepper is black_, _Green Sleeves_, _Peggie Ramsie_; and immediately

afterwards this jovial knight quotes several detached lines from as

many separate ballads, for instance, _Three merry men be we_; _There

dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady_; _O the twelfth day of December_;

_Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone_.[579:A] Of these

the first was a burden common to many ancient songs, and is called in

_The Old Wives Tale_, by George Peele, 1595, an _Old Proverb_, and is

thus given:—

"Three merrie men, and three merrie men,

And three merrie men be wee;

I in the wood, and thou on the ground,

And Jack sleepes in the tree:"[579:B]

an association which acquired such notoriety as to become the frequent

sign of an ale-house, under the appellation of _The Three Merry Boys_.

The second is the first line and the burden of a ballad which was

licensed by T. Colwell, in 1562, under the title of _The goodly and

constant Wyfe Susanna_. It is preserved in the Pepysian collection,

and the first stanza of it has been quoted by Dr. Percy in his

_Reliques_[579:C]; the burden _lady, lady_, is again alluded to by

Mercutio in _Romeo and Juliet_, act ii. sc. 4. The third has not been

traced to its source, but the fourth, and the subsequent lines, are

taken, with a little variation, from _Corydon's Farewell To Phillis_,

published in a little black letter miscellany, called "The Golden

Garland of Princely Delights," and reprinted entire by Dr. Percy.[579:D]

In act iv. sc. 2. the clown is introduced singing part of the first

two stanzas of a song which has been discovered among the ancient MSS.

of Dr. Harrington of Bath, and there ascribed, though perhaps not

correctly, to Sir Thomas Wyat. It is evident that Shakspeare trusted to

his memory in the quotation of these popular pieces, for most of them

deviate, in some degree, from the originals; in the present instance,

the first two lines, as given by the clown,

"Hey Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does,"

are substituted for the opening stanza of the old song:—

"A Robyn,

Jolly Robyn,

Tell me how thy leman doeth,

And thou shalt knowe of myn."[580:A]

The commencement of a madrigal, the composition of William Elderton, is

sung by Benedict, in _Much Ado about Nothing_.

"The god of love,

That sits above," &c.[580:B]

and a song beginning in a similar manner, is mentioned by Mr. Ritson,

to be in _Bacchus' Bountie_, 4to. bl. l. 1593; Elderton's production

was parodied by a puritan of the name of Birch, under the title of "The

Complaint of a Sinner."[580:C]

In _Love's Labours Lost_, a sweet air, as Armado terms it, commencing

with the word _Concolinel_, is sung by Moth[580:D], but no further

intimation is given; and in another part of the same comedy, the burden

of an ancient ditty is chaunted by Roseline and Boyet.[580:E] In _As

You Like It_ Touchstone quotes a stanza from a ballad of which the

first line is _O sweet Oliver_, and which appears to be the same with

the ballad of

"O sweete Olyver

Leave me not behinde thee,"

entered by Richard Jones, on the books of the Stationers' Company,

August 6th, 1584[580:F]; and in the subsequent act, Orlando alludes to

a madrigal under the title of _Wit whither wilt_.[580:G]

_All's Well that Ends Well_ affords but two passages from the minstrel

poesy of the day, which are put into the mouth of the clown; one of

these is evidently taken from a ballad on the _Sacking of Troy_, and

the other seems to have been the chorus of a song on courtship or

marriage.[581:A]

From the _Taming of the Shrew_ we collect the initial lines of two

apparently very popular ballads; the first beginning _Where is the

life that late I led_[581:B], which is likewise quoted by Ancient

Pistol[581:C], and referred to in _A gorgious Gallery of gallant

Inventions_, 4to. 1578; there is also a song or sonnet with this title,

observes Mr. Malone, in _a handeful of pleasant Delites, containing

sundrie new Sonets_, &c. 1584, where we read of "Dame Beautie's replie

to the _lover late at libertie_, and now complaineth himselfe to be her

captive, intituled, _Where is the life that late I led_:

"The life that erst thou led'st, my friend,

Was pleasant to thine eyes," &c.[581:D]

The second fragment with which Petruchio has favoured us, commencing

"It was the friar of orders grey,

As he forth walked on his way,"[581:E]

has given rise to one of the most pleasing and pathetic of modern

ballads, founded on a professed introduction of as many of our poet's

ballad fragments as could consistently be adapted. "Dispersed through

Shakspeare's plays," says the ingenious associator, "are innumerable

little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which

could not be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and

pathetic simplicity, the editor was tempted to select some of them, and

with a few supplemental stanzas to connect them together, and form them

into a little Tale."[582:A] That much taste and poetic spirit, together

with a very successful effort in combination, have been exhibited in

this little piece, the public approbation has unequivocally decided.

To the character of Autolycus, in the _Winter's Tale_, a very humorous

exemplar of the fallen state of the minstrel tribe, we are indebted

for some illustration of the prevalency of ballad-writing at the

commencement of the reign of James the First. Most of the songs

attributed to this adroit rogue, are, there is reason to think, the

composition of Shakspeare, with the exception of the catch beginning

_Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way_[582:B]; but, in his capacity of

ballad-vender, he throws considerable light on the subjects to which

these motley strains were devoted. He is represented as having ballads

of all descriptions, and "the prettiest love-songs for maids"—"and

where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and

break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer, _Whoop,

do me no harm, good man_; puts him off, slights him, with _Whoop, do

me_ no harm, good man."[582:C] Accordingly at the Fair he is applied to

for these precious wares:—

"_Clo._ What hast here? ballads?

_Mop._ Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print, a'-life:

for then we are sure they are true.

_Aut._ Here's one to a very doleful tune, How a usurer's wife

was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burden; and how

she longed to eat adder's heads, and toads carbonadoed.

_Mop._ Is it true, think you?

_Aut._ Very true; and but a month old.

_Dor._ Bless me from marrying a usurer!

_Aut._ Here's the midwife's name to't, one mistress Taleporter;

and five or six honest wives that were present: Why should I

carry lies abroad?

_Mop._ 'Pray you now, buy it.

_Clo._ Come on, lay it by: And let's first see more ballads;

we'll buy the other things anon.

_Aut._ Here's another ballad, Of a fish, that appeared upon

the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand

fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard

hearts of maids: it was thought she was a woman, and was turned

into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one

that loved her: The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.

_Dor._ Is it true, think you?

_Aut._ Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more than my

pack will hold.

_Clo._ Lay it by too: Another.

_Aut._ This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty one.

_Mop._ Let's have some merry ones.

_Aut._ Why, this is a passing merry one; and goes to the tune

of, _Two maids wooing a man_: there's scarce a maid westward,

but she sings it; 'tis in request, I can tell you."[584:A]

The request, in fact, for these popular pieces of poetry was then

infinitely greater than has since obtained in more modern times; not

a murder, or an execution, not a battle or a tempest, not a wonderful

event or a laughable adventure, could occur, but what was immediately

thrown into the form of a ballad, and the muse supplied what humble

prose now details to us among the miscellaneous articles of a

news-paper; a statement which is fully confirmed by the observation of

another character in this very play, who tells us that "such a deal of

wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be

able to express it."[584:B]

In the _Second Part of King Henry the Fourth_ Falstaff enters a room,

in the Boar's Head Tavern, singing the first two lines of a ballad

which Dr. Percy has reprinted under the title of _Sir Lancelot Du

Lake_.[585:A] This, which is merely a metrical version of three

chapters from the first part of _Morte Arthur_, is quoted imperfectly

by the knight, owing to the interruptions attending his situation; the

opening lines of the ballad are,

"When Arthur first in court began,

And was approved king,"

which Falstaff mutilates and alters, by omitting the last word of the

first line, and converting _approved_ into _worthy_[585:B]; the version

and quotation, it may be remarked, are strong proofs of the popularity

of the romance.

To the admirably drawn character of _Silence_ in this play, we are

indebted for several valuable fragments of popular poesy. This curious

personage, who, when sober, has not a word to say, is no sooner

exhilarated by the circling glass, than he chaunts forth an abundance

of unconnected stanzas from the minstrelsy of his times. Having nothing

original in his ideas, no fund of his own on which to draw, he marks

his festivity by the vociferous repetition of scraps of catches, songs,

and glees. We may, therefore, conceive the poet to have appropriated

to this simple justice in his cups, the most generally known and, of

course, the favourite, convivial songs of the age. They are of such

a character, indeed, as to warrant the belief, that there was not a

hall in Shakspeare's days but what had echoed to these jovial strains;

a conclusion which almost imperatively calls for the admission of a

few, as specimens of the vocal hilarity of our ancestors, when warmed,

according to Shallow's confession, by "too much sack at supper."[585:C]

"_Sil._ Do nothing but eat and make good cheer, (Singing.)

And praise heaven for the merry year;

When flesh is cheap and females dear,[586:A]

And lusty lads roam here and there,

So merrily,

And ever among so merrily.

_Fal._ There's a merry heart!—Good master Silence, I'll give

you a health for that anon.—

_Sil._ Be merry, be merry, my wife's as all;[586:B]

For women are shrews, both short and tall:

'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,

And welcome merry shrove-tide.

Be merry, be merry, &c.

_Fal._ I did not think, master Silence had been a man of this

mettle.

_Sil._ A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine,

And drink unto the leman mine;

And a merry heart lives long-a.

_Fal._ Well said, master Silence.

_Sil._ And we shall be merry;—now comes in the sweet of the

night.

_Fal._ Health and long life to you, master Silence.

_Sil._ Fill the cup and let it come;

I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom."[586:C]

After drinking another bumper, and singing another song, allusive

to the rights of pledging, _Do me right, And dub me knight_[586:D];

and quoting the old ballad of _Robin Hood_, and the _Pindar of

Wakefield_[586:E], master Silence is carried to bed, fully saturated

with sack and good cheer.

A character equally versed in minstrel lore, and equally prodigal of

his stock, though wanting the excuse of inebriation, has been drawn by

Beaumont and Fletcher, in the person of _Old Merrythought_ in their

_Knight of the Burning Pestle_[586:F]; but, in point of nature and

humour, it is a picture which falls infinitely short of Shakspeare's

sketch.

Many of the old songs, or rather the fragments of them, which are

scattered through the dramas of our poet, either proceed from the

professed clown or fool of the play, or are given as the wild

and desultory recollections of derangement, real or feigned; the

ebullitions of a broken heart, and the unconnected sallies of a

disordered mind.

Shakspeare's fools may be considered, in fact, as exact copies of the

living manners and costume of these singular personages, who, in his

era, formed a necessary part of the household establishment of the

great. To the due execution of their functions, a lively fancy, and a

copious fund of wit and sarcasm, together with an unlimited licence of

uttering what imagination and the occasion prompted, were essential;

but it was likewise required, that bitterness of allusion, and asperity

of remark, should be softened by the constant assumption of a playful

and unintentional manner. For this purpose, the indirect method of

quotation, and generally from ludicrous songs and ballads, is resorted

to, with the evident intention of covering what would otherwise have

been too naked and too severely felt. Thus, in an old play, entitled _A

very mery and pythie Comedy, called, The longer thou livest the more

Foole thou art_, printed about 1580, the appearance of a character of

this description is prefaced by the following stage-note:—"Entreth

_Moros_, counterfaiting a vaine gesture and a foolish countenance,

_synging the foote of many songs, as fools were wont_."[587:A]

The simple yet sarcastic drollery of the fool, and the wild ravings of

the madman, have been alike employed by Shakspeare, to deepen the gloom

of distress. In the tragedy of _Lear_ it is difficult to ascertain

whether the horrors of the scene are more heightened by the seeming

thoughtless levity of the former, or by the delirious imagery of the

latter. The greater part of the bitterly sportive metres, attributed

to the fool, in this drama, appears evidently to have been written for

the character; and as the reliques drawn from more ancient minstrelsy,

seem rather the foot or burden of each song, than the commencement,

and are at the same time of little poetical value, we shall forbear

enumerating them. The fragments, however, allotted to Edgar are both

characteristic, and apparently initial; the line which Mr. Steevens

asserts to have seen in an old ballad,

"Through the sharp hawthown blows the cold wind,"[588:A]

is so impressive as absolutely to chill the blood; and the legendary

pieces beginning

"Saint Withold footed thrice the wold,"[588:B]

and

"Child Rowland to the dark tower came,"[588:C]

are reliques which well accord with the dreadful peculiarity of his

situation. The two subsequent quotations are from pastoral songs, of

which the first,

"Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,"[588:D]

as Mr. Malone observes, has a marked propriety, alluding to an

association then common; for in a description of beggars, published in

1607, one class of these vagabonds is represented as counterfeiting

madness;

———————— "they were so frantique

They knew not what they did, but every day

Make sport with stick and flowers like an antique;—

_One calls herself poor Besse, the other Tom_."[588:E]

The second seems to have been suggested to the mind of Edgar by some

connection, however distant and obscure, with the business of the

scene. Lear fancies he is trying his daughters; and the lines of Edgar,

who is appointed one of the commission, allude to a trespass which

takes place in consequence of the folly of a shepherd in neglecting his

charge,—the lines appear to be the opening stanza of a lyric pastoral.

"A shepherd," remarks Dr. Johnson, "is desired to pipe, and the request

is enforced by a promise, that though his sheep be in the corn, _i. e._

committing a trespass by his negligence—yet a single tune upon his

pipe shall secure them from the pound.

"Sleepest, or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?

Thy sheep be in the corn;

And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,

Thy sheep shall take no harm."[589:A]

If the assumed madness of Edgar is heightened by the casual repetition

of these artless strains, how is the real distraction of the

heart-broken Ophelia augmented in its pathos by a similar appeal!

The interesting fragments which she sings, certainly do not produce

their effect, as Sir Joshua Reynolds imagined, by marking an "utter

insensibility to her own misfortunes[589:B];" for they manifestly refer

both to her father's death, and to her own unfortunate attachment,

their influence over the heart being felt as the consequence of this

indirect allusion.

Of the first three fragments, which appear to be parts of the same

ballad, and, as the king observes, are a "conceit upon her father," the

two prior have been beautifully incorporated by Dr. Percy in his _Friar

of Orders Gray_:

"How should I your true love know,

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon."

"He is dead and gone, lady,

He is dead and gone;

At his head a grass-green turf,

At his heels a stone."[589:C]

The first line of the third,

"White his shroud as the mountain snow,"

has been parodied by Chatterton, in the Mynstrelle's Songe in Œlla,

"Whyte his rode as the sommer snowe."

The subsequent songs, beginning

"Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,"

and

"By Gis, and by Saint Charity,"[590:A]

were, there is little doubt, suggested to the fair sufferer's mind, by

an obscure and distant association with the issue of her unfortunate

amour, a connection, however, which is soon dissipated by reverting

to the fate of her father, the scene closing with two fragments

exquisitely adapted to unfold the workings of her mind on this

melancholy event.

"They bore him barefac'd on the bier—

And in his grave rain'd many a tear."[590:B]

"And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?

No, no, he is dead,

Go to thy death-bed,

He never will come again, &c."[590:C]

passages of which Dr. Percy has admirably availed himself in his _Friar

of Orders Gray_, and to which the Mynstrelle's song in Œlla is

indebted for its pathetic burden:

"_Mie love ys dedde,

Gonne to his deathe-bedde_,

Alle underre the wyllowe tree."[590:D]

The vacillation of poor Ophelia amid her heavy afflictions is rendered

strikingly apparent by the insertion of two ballad lines between the

stanzas last quoted, which again manifestly allude to her lover:—

"_Oph._ You must sing, _Down a-down, an you call him adown-a_.

O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that

stole his master's daughter.——"[591:A]

"For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy."[591:B]

We may remark that the expression, "_O, how the wheel becomes it!_" is

meant to imply the popularity of the song, that

"The _spinsters_ and the knitters in the sun

Do use to _chaunt_ it,"

a custom which, as exercised in the winter, is beautifully exemplified

by Mr. Malone, in a passage from Sir Thomas Overbury's characters,

1614:—"She makes her hands hard with labour, and her head soft with

pittie; and when winter evenings fall early, sitting at her merry

_wheele_, she sings a defiance to the giddy wheele of fortune."[591:C]

In the church-yard scene of this play, one of the grave-diggers, after

amusing himself and his companion by queries, which, as Mr. Steevens

observes, "perhaps composed the chief festivity of our ancestors by an

evening fire[591:D];" sings three stanzas, though somewhat corrupted

either by design or accident, of "A dyttie or sonet made by the lord

Vaus, in the time of the noble quene Marye, representing the image of

death."[591:E] This poem was originally published in Tottel's edition

of Surrey and Wyat, and the Poems of Uncertain Authors; the earliest

poetical miscellany in our language, and first printed in 1557 under

the title of "Songes and sonettes by the right honourable Henry Howard,

late earl of Surrey, and other." To this very popular collection, which

underwent many editions during the sixteenth century[592:A], Slender

alludes, in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_, where he exclaims, "I had

rather than forty shillings, I had my book of _Songs and Sonnets_

here[592:B];" from which we may conclude that this was the fashionable

manual for lovers in the age of Elizabeth. Lord Vaux's lines have

been reprinted by Dr. Percy, who remarks on the apparent corruptions

of Shakspeare's transcript, that they were "perhaps so designed by

the poet himself, the better to suit the character of an illiterate

clown."[592:C]

No fragment of our minstrel poetry has been introduced by Shakspeare

with greater beauty and effect, than the melancholy ditty which

he represents Desdemona as singing, under a presentiment of her

approaching fate:

"_Des._ My mother had a maid call'd—Barbara;

She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad,

And did forsake her: she had a song of—willow,

An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,

And she died singing it: That song to-night,

Will not go from my mind; I have much to do,

But to go hang my head all at one side,

And sing it like poor Barbara."[592:D]

Of this song of willow, ushered in with such a powerful appeal to the

heart, Dr. Percy has given us a copy in his Reliques[592:E]; it is in

two parts, and proves that the poet has not only materially altered the

few lines which he quotes, but has changed also the sex of its subject;

for in the original in the Pepys collection, it is entitled "A Lover's

Complaint, being forsaken of _his_ Love."

From the ample, we may almost say complete, enumeration, which we

have now given, of the fragments selected by Shakspeare from the

minstrel-poetry of his country, together with the accompanying remarks,

may be formed, not only a tolerably accurate estimate of the most

popular songs of this period, but a clear idea of the use to which

Shakspeare has applied them.[593:A] They will be found, in fact, with

scarcely any exceptions, either elucidatory of the business of the

scene, illustrative of the progress of the passions, or powerfully

assistant in developing the features and the shades of character.

It will appear also, from the view which has been taken of romantic

literature, as comprehending all the branches noticed in this chapter,

that its influence, in the age of our poet, was great and universally

diffused; that he was himself, perhaps more than any other individual,

if we except Spenser, addicted to its study and partial to its

fictions; and that, if we take into consideration, what will hereafter

be mentioned, the bases of his various plays, he may be affirmed to

have availed himself of its stores often with great skill, and with as

much frequency as the nature of the province which he cultivated, would

admit.

FOOTNOTES:

[520:A] Nichols's Progresses, vol. i. Laneham's Letter, p. 34-36.

[520:B] Dibdin's Bibliographical Romance, p. 349, 350, and note.

[521:A] Puttenham's Arte of English Poesie, reprint of 1811, p. 33, 69.

[522:A] Chalmers's English Poets, vol. v. p. 283. col. 2.

[522:B] Anatomy of Melancholy, folio. 8th edit. p. 84. col. 2. p. 177.

col. 2.

[522:C] See Ellis's Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, vol.

i. Introduction, p. 38.; and the Abbé de la Rue's Dissertations on the

Anglo-Norman poets, Archæologia, vol. xii. and xiii.

[523:A] See Toland's Life of Milton, p. 35.

[524:A] The title of this first edition, as gathered from the prologue

and colophon, has been thus given by Mr. Dibdin:—

"A BOOK OF THE NOBLE HYSTORYES OF KYNGE ARTHUR, and of certeyn of his

knyghtes. Whiche book was reduced in to englyshe by syr Thomas Malory

knyght _and by me devyded into XXI bookes chapytred and enprynted, and

fynysshed in th abbey Westmestre the last day of Juyl the yere of our

lord M.CCCC._ lxxxv. FOLIO."—Dibdin's Typographical Antiquities, vol.

i. p. 241.

[525:A] Ascham's Works, Bennet's edit. p. 254.

[525:B] Vide p. 268.

[525:C] Toland's Life of Milton, p. 35.

[526:A] Burnet's Specimens of English Prose Writers, vol. i. p. 287-289.

[527:A] Dibdin's Typographical Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 81, 82.

[528:A] Book III. chap. 176.

[529:A] Vide Warton's Observations on the Faerie Queene, and Todd's

edition of Spenser's Works, vol. ii. p. lxviii.

[529:B] Vide Bibliotheca Reediana, No. 2670, and Todd's Spenser, vol.

ii. p. lxvii. note _k_.

[529:C] Todd's Spenser, vol. ii. p. lxvii. note.

[530:A] Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 217.

[530:B] Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 230. note.

[531:A] Ellis's Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, vol. iii.

p. 4. et seq.

[532:A] Beloe's Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 223.

[533:A] This short summary has been drawn up from the larger account

detailed by Mr. Ellis in his Specimens of Early English Metrical

Romances, vol. iii. p. 1-22.

[533:B] Ellis's Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, vol. iii.

p. 17.

[534:A] The common version of Pilpay was published in 1747. It should

be remarked, however, that a translation from the Italian of Doni,

containing many of the fables of Pilpay, and professedly rendered

by Doni, from the Directorium Humanæ Vitæ, vel Parabole Antiquorum

Sapientum, was given in English by Sir Thomas North, 4to. 1570, and

1601, under the title of the "Moral Philosophy of Doni." From this

source, therefore, Shakspeare and his contemporaries may have been

partially acquainted with this collection of tales.

[534:B] Douce's Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 424.

[535:A] Two of these tales, chap. 31. and 32. are immediately taken

from _The Seven Wise Masters_, and may be found also in the Arabian

Nights and Pilpay's Fables.

[536:A] "_Edric_ was the name of _Enoch_ among the Arabians, to whom

they attribute many fabulous compositions. Herbelot, in V.—Lydgate's

_Chorle_ and _The Bird_ is taken from the _Clericalis Disciplina_."

[536:B] MSS. Harl. 3861, and in many other libraries. It occurs in old

French verse, MSS. Digb. 86. membrar. "_Le Romaune de Peres Aunfour

coment il aprist et chastia son fils belement._"

[536:C] "See Tyrwhitt's Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 325. seq."

[537:A] Milton's "Il Penseroso." Warton's History of English Poetry,

vol. iii. Dissertation on the Gesta Romanorum, p. v. vi.

[537:B] Douce's Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 422.

[537:C] History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 18. vol. iii. p. lxxxiii.

[537:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 229.

[537:E] According to his own assertion, in the MS. catalogue of his

works in the British Museum, to which he has given the title of

_Eupolemia_. See Douce's Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 423. 425.

[538:A] Ascham's Schole Master, Bennet's edit. 4to. p. 255.

[539:A] A writer, whose work has just fallen into my hands, closes a

long and accurate analysis of the Italian Tales, with the following

just observations:—"The larger works of fiction," he remarks,

"resemble those productions of a country which are consumed within

itself, while tales, like the more delicate and precious articles of

traffic, which are exported from their native soil, have gladdened and

delighted every land. They are the ingredients from which Shakspeare,

and other enchanters of his day, have distilled those magical drops

which tend so much to sweeten the lot of humanity, by occasionally

withdrawing the mind, from the cold and naked realities of life, to

visionary scenes and visionary bliss."—Dunlop's History of Fiction,

vol. ii. p. 409.

[539:B] "In The London Chaunticleres, 1659, this work, among others,"

remarks Mr. Steevens, "is cried for sale by a ballad-man; The Seven

Wise Men of Gotham; a _Hundred merry Tales_; Scoggin's Jests," &c.—See

Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 42.

[540:A] History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 475.

[540:B] The English Courtier and the Cuntrey Gentleman, sig. H. 4. See

Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 43. note.

[540:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 42. Act ii. sc. 1.

[540:D] Illustrations, vol. i. p. 166.

[541:A] Illustrations, vol. i. p. 168.

[542:A] The Roxburghe copy of the Palace of Pleasure produced the sum

of 42_l._

[542:B] History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 478.

[543:A] History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 473.

[543:B] Ritson thinks that Whetstone's Heptameron was republished in

1593, under the title of "Aurelia." In the Roxburghe Library, No. 6392,

this romance is termed "The Paragon of Pleasure, or the Christmas

Pleasures of Queene Aurelia," 4to. 1593.

[544:A] Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 487.

[544:B] Of the Italian tales it may be useful to enumerate the best and

most celebrated of those which were written during the fifteenth and

sixteenth centuries; as, in some shape or other, most of them became

familiar to English readers before the death of Shakspeare.

1. _Cento Novelle Antike._ The earliest collection of Italian novels.

2. _Boccacio il Decamerone._ Venet. Valdarfer. 1471. This, which is the

first edition, was purchased at the Roxburghe sale, by the Marquis of

Blandford, for 2260_l._!

3. _Novelle di Sacchetti._ Sacchetti died in 1408.

4. _Masuccio_, _Il Novellino_, nel quale si contengono _cinquanta_

Novelle.—Best edition that of 1484, folio.

5. _Sabadino_, _Porretane_, dove si narra Novelle _settanta una_.

6. _Sansovino_, _Cento Novelle_ scelte da più nobili Scrittori.

7. _Giovanni Fiorentino_, _il Pecorone_, nel quale si contengono

_cinquanta_ Novelle antiche. First and best edition, 1559.

8. _Novelle del Bandello_, 3 vols. 4to. 1554.

9. _Straparola_, _le piacevoli Notte_. 2 vols. 1557.

10. _Giraldi Cinthio_, _gli Hecatomithi_, (Cento Novelle.) 4 vols.

11. _Erizzo_, _le Sei Giornate_, (trenta cinque Novelle) Edizione prim.

4to. Ven. 1567.

12. Parabosco, i Diporti, o varo Novelle, Venet. 1558.

13. _Granucci_, _la piacivol Notte, et lieto Giorno_ (undici Novelle),

Venet. 1574.

14. Novelle di Ascanio de Mori. 4to. 1585.

15. Malespini, Ducento Novelle, 4to.

[544:C] Vide Gascoigne's Tale of Ferdinando Jeronimi, from the Italian

riding tales of Bartello, in his "Weedes," and Turberville's "Tragical

Tales, translated out of sundrie Italians," 1587.

[545:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 221.

[545:B] Vide Aikin's General Biography, vol. vi. article Lobeira.

[545:C] "Amadis of Gaul," remarks Mr. Southey, "is among prose, what

Orlando Furioso is among metrical Romances, not the oldest of its kind,

but the best."—Preliminary Essay to his Translation, 4 vols. 1803.

"This" (Amadis de Gaul), says Mr. Burnet, "is perhaps one of the most

beautiful books that ever was written."—Specimens of English Prose

Writers, vol. i. p. 289. note.

[546:A] Jervis's Translation of Don Quixote, vol. i. chap. 6.

[546:B] Sir Philip Sidney's Works, fol. edit. of 1629. p. 551.

Shakspeare and His Times [Vol. 1 of 2] Including the Biography of the Poet; criticisms on his genius and writings; a new chronology of his plays; a disquisition on the on the object of his sonnets; and a history of the manners, customs, and amusements, superstitions, poetry, and elegant literature of his age · 第 15 / 20 章

That these strictures are too severe, and that the consequences