Chapter VII: Letter III: Sir, Feb. 8 (1)

I come now to the main Argument, which some People urge to prove that _Shakespear_ was conversant with the Ancients. For there is, say they, among _Shakespear_’s Plays, one call’d _The Comedy of Errors_, which is undeniably an Imitation of the _Menechmi_ of _Plautus_. Now _Shakespear_, say they, being conversant with _Plautus_, it undeniably follows that he was acquainted with the Ancients; because no _Roman_ Author could be hard to him who had conquer’d _Plautus_. To which I answer, that the Errors which we have mention’d above are to be accounted for no other way but by the want of knowing the Ancients, or by downright want of Capacity. But nothing can be more absurd or more unjust than to impute it to want of Capacity. For the very Sentiments of _Shakespear_ alone are sufficient to shew that he had a great Understanding: And therefore we must account some other way for his Imitation of the _Menechmi_. I remember to have seen, among the Translations of _Ovid_’s Epistles printed by Mr. _Tonson_, an Imitation of that from _Œnone_ to _Paris_, which Mr. _Dryden_ tells us in his Preface to those Epistles was imitated by one of the Fair Sex who understood no _Latin_, but that she had done enough to make those blush who understood it the best. There are at this day several Translators, who, as _Hudibrass_ has it,

Translate from Languages of which
They understand no part of Speech.

I will not affirm that of _Shakespear_; I believe he was able to do what Pedants call construe, but that he was able to read _Plautus_ without Pain and Difficulty I can never believe. Now I appeal to you, Sir, what time he had between his Writing and his Acting, to read any thing that could not be read with Ease and Pleasure. We see that our Adversaries themselves acknowledge, that if _Shakespear_ was able to read _Plautus_ with Ease, nothing in Latinity could be hard to him. How comes it to pass then, that he has given us no Proofs of his familiar Acquaintance with the Ancients, but this Imitation of the _Menechmi_, and a Version of two Epistles of _Ovid_? How comes it that he had never read _Horace_, of a superiour Merit to either, and particularly his Epistle to the _Piso’s_, which so much concern’d his Art? Or if he had read that Epistle, how comes it that in his _Troylus_ and _Cressida_ [we must observe by the way, that when _Shakespear_ wrote that Play, _Ben Johnson_ had not as yet translated that Epistle] he runs counter to the Instructions which _Horace_ has given for the forming the Character of _Achilles_?

Scriptor: Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem,
Impiger, Iracundus, Inexorabilis, Acer,
Jura neget sibi nata.

Where is the _Impiger_, the _Iracundus_, or the _Acer_, in the Character of _Shakespear_’s _Achilles_? who is nothing but a drolling, lazy, conceited, overlooking Coxcomb; so far from being the honoured _Achilles_, the Epithet that _Homer_ and _Horace_ after him give him, that he is deservedly the Scorn and the Jest of the rest of the Characters, even to that Buffoon _Thersites_.

Tho’ _Shakespear_ succeeded very well in Comedy, yet his principal Talent and his chief Delight was Tragedy. If then _Shakespear_ was qualify’d to read _Plautus_ with Ease, he could read with a great deal more Ease the Translations of _Sophocles_ and _Euripides_. And tho’ by these Translations he would not have been able to have seen the charming colouring of those great Masters, yet would he have seen all the Harmony and the Beauty of their great and their just Designs. He would have seen enough to have stirr’d up a noble Emulation in so exalted a Soul as his. How comes it then that we hear nothing from him of the _Œdipus_, the _Electra_, the _Antigone_ of _Sophocles_, of the _Iphigenia_’s, the _Orestes_, the _Medea_, the _Hecuba_ of _Euripides_? How comes it that we see nothing in the Conduct of his Pieces, that shews us that he had the least Acquaintance with any of these great Masterpieces? Did _Shakespear_ appear to be so nearly touch’d with the Affliction of _Hecuba_ for the Death of _Priam_, which was but daub’d and bungled by one of his Countrymen, that he could not forbear introducing it as it were by Violence into his own _Hamlet_, and would he make no Imitation, no Commendation, not the least Mention of the unparallell’d and inimitable Grief of the _Hecuba_ of _Euripides_? How comes it that we find no Imitation of any ancient Play in Him but the _Menechmi_ of _Plautus_? How came he to chuse a Comick preferably to the Tragick Poets? Or how comes he to chuse _Plautus_ preferably to _Terence_, who is so much more just, more graceful, more regular, and more natural? Or how comes he to chuse the _Menechmi_ of _Plautus_, which is by no means his Master-piece, before all his other Comedies? I vehemently suspect that this Imitation of the _Menechmi_ was either from a printed Translation of that Comedy which is lost, or some Version in Manuscript brought him by a Friend, or sent him perhaps by a Stranger, or from the original Play it self recommended to him, and read to him by some learned Friend. In short, I had rather account for this by what is not absurd than by what is, or by a less Absurdity than by a greater. For nothing can be more wrong than to conclude from this that _Shakespear_ was conversant with the Ancients; which contradicts the Testimony of his Contemporary and his familiar Acquaintance _Ben Johnson_, and of his Successor _Milton_;

Lo _Shakespear_, Fancy’s sweetest Child,
Warbles his native Wood-notes wild;

and of Mr. _Dryden_ after them both; and which destroys the most glorious Part of _Shakespear_’s Merit immediately. For how can he be esteem’d equal by Nature or superior to the Ancients, when he falls so far short of them in Art, tho’ he had the Advantage of knowing all that they did before him? Nay it debases him below those of common Capacity, by reason of the Errors which we mention’d above. Therefore he who allows that _Shakespear_ had Learning and a familiar Acquaintance with the Ancients, ought to be look’d upon as a Detractor from his extraordinary Merit, and from the Glory of _Great Britain_. For whether is it more honourable for this Island to have produc’d a Man who, without having any Acquaintance with the Ancients, or any but a slender and a superficial one, appears to be their Equal or their Superiour by the Force of Genius and Nature, or to have bred one who, knowing the Ancients, falls infinitely short of them in Art, and consequently in Nature it self? _Great Britain_ has but little Reason to boast of its Natives Education, since the same that they had here, they might have had in another place. But it may justly claim a very great share in their Nature and Genius, since these depend in a great measure on the Climate; and therefore _Horace_, in the Instruction which he gives for the forming the Characters, advises the noble _Romans_ for whose Instruction he chiefly writes to consider whether the Dramatick Person whom they introduce is

“ Colchus an Assyrius, Thebis nutritus an Argis. ”

Thus, Sir, I have endeavour’d to shew under what great Disadvantages _Shakespear_ lay, for want of the Poetical Art, and for want of being conversant with the Ancients.

But besides this, he lay under other very great Inconveniencies. For he was neither Master of Time enough to consider, correct, and polish what he wrote, to alter it, to add to it, and to retrench from it, nor had he Friends to consult upon whose Capacity and Integrity he could depend. And tho’ a Person of very good Judgment may succeed very well without consulting his Friends, if he takes time enough to correct what he writes; yet even the greatest Man that Nature and Art can conspire to accomplish, can never attain to Perfection, without either employing a great deal of time, or taking the Advice of judicious Friends. Nay, ’tis the Opinion of _Horace_ that he ought to do both.

Siquid tamen olim
Scripseris, in Metii descendat Judicis aures,
Et Patris, & nostras; nonumque prematur in Annum.

Now we know very well that _Shakespear_ was an Actor, at a time when there were seven or eight Companies of Players in the Town together, who each of them did their utmost Endeavours to get the Audiences from the rest, and consequently that our Author was perpetually call’d upon, by those who had the Direction and Management of the Company to which he belong’d, for new Pieces which might be able to support them, and give them some Advantage over the rest. And ’tis easie to judge what Time he was Master of, between his laborious Employment of Acting and his continual Hurry of Writing. As for Friends, they whom in all likelihood _Shakespear_ consulted most were two or three of his Fellow-Actors, because they had the Care of publishing his Works committed to them. Now they, as we are told by _Ben Johnson_ in his _Discoveries_, were extremely pleas’d with their Friend for scarce ever making a Blot; and were very angry with _Ben_ for saying he wish’d that he had made a thousand. The Misfortune of it is that _Horace_ was perfectly of _Ben_’s, mind.

——Vos, O
Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non
Multa dies & multa litura coercuit, atque
Præsectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.

And so was my Lord _Roscommon_.

Poets lose half the Praise they should have got,
Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

These Friends then of _Shakespear_ were not qualify’d to advise him. As for _Ben Johnson_, besides that _Shakespear_ began to know him late, and that _Ben_ was not the most communicative Person in the World of the Secrets of his Art, he seems to me to have had no right Notion of Tragedy. Nay, so far from it, that he who was indeed a very great Man, and who has writ Comedies, by which he has born away the Prize of Comedy both from Ancients and Moderns, and been an Honour to _Great Britain_; and who has done this without any Rules to guide him, except what his own incomparable Talent dictated to him; This extraordinary Man has err’d so grossly in Tragedy, of which there were not only stated Rules, but Rules which he himself had often read, and had even translated, that he has chosen two Subjects, which, according to those very Rules, were utterly incapable of exciting either Compassion or Terror for the principal Characters, which yet are the chief Passions that a Tragick Poet ought to endeavour to excite. So that _Shakespear_ having neither had Time to correct, nor Friends to consult, must necessarily have frequently left such faults in his Writings, for the Correction of which either a great deal of Time or a judicious and a well-natur’d Friend is indispensably necessary.

Vir bonus & prudens versus reprehendet inertes,
Culpabit duros, incomptis allinet atrum
Transverso calamo signum, ambitiosa recidet
Ornamenta, parum claris lucem dare coget,
Arguet ambigue dictum, mutanda notabit.

There is more than one Example of every kind of these Faults in the Tragedies of _Shakespear_, and even in the _Coriolanus_. There are Lines that are utterly void of that celestial Fire of which _Shakespear_ is sometimes Master in so great a Degree. And consequently there are Lines that are stiff and forc’d, and harsh and unmusical, tho’ _Shakespear_ had naturally an admirable Ear for the Numbers. But no Man ever was very musical who did not write with Fire, and no Man can always write with Fire, unless he is so far Master of his Time, as to expect those Hours when his Spirits are warm and volatile. _Shakespear_ must therefore sometimes have Lines which are neither strong nor graceful: For who ever had Force or Grace that had not Spirit? There are in his _Coriolanus_, among a great many natural and admirable Beauties, three or four of those Ornaments which _Horace_ would term ambitious; and which we in _English_ are apt to call Fustian or Bombast. There are Lines in some Places which are very obscure, and whole Scenes which ought to be alter’d.

I have, Sir, employ’d some Time and Pains, and that little Judgment which I have acquir’d in these Matters by a long and a faithful reading both of Ancients and Moderns, in adding, retrenching, and altering several Things in the _Coriolanus_ of _Shakespear_, but with what Success I must leave to be determin’d by you. I know very well that you will be surpriz’d to find, that after all that I have said in the former Part of this Letter against _Shakespear_’s introducing the Rabble into _Coriolanus_, I have not only retain’d in the second Act of the following Tragedy the Rabble which is in the Original, but deviated more from the _Roman_ Customs than _Shakespear_ had done before me. I desire you to look upon it as a voluntary Fault and a Trespass against Conviction: ’Tis one of those Things which are _ad Populum Phaleræ_, and by no means inserted to please such Men as you.

Thus, Sir, have I laid before you a short but impartial Account of the Beauties and Defects of _Shakespear_, with an Intention to make these Letters publick if they are approv’d by you; to teach some People to distinguish between his Beauties and his Defects, that while they imitate the one, they may with Caution avoid the other [there being nothing of more dangerous Contagion to Writers, and especially to young ones, than the Faults of great Masters], and while with _Milton_ they applaud the great Qualities which _Shakespear_ had by Nature, they may follow his wise Example, and form themselves as he assures us that he himself did, upon the Rules and Writings of the Ancients.

Sir, if so candid and able a Judge as your self shall happen to approve of this Essay in the main, and to excuse and correct my Errors, that Indulgence and that Correction will not only encourage me to make these Letters publick, but will enable me to bear the Reproach of those who would fix a Brand even upon the justest Criticism, as the Effect of Envy and Ill-nature; as if there could possibly be any Ill-nature in the doing Justice, or in the endeavouring to advance a very noble and a very useful Art, and consequently to prove beneficent to Mankind. As for those who may accuse me of the want of a due Veneration for the Merit of an Author of so establish’d a Reputation as _Shakespear_, I shall beg leave to tell them, that they chuse the wrongest time that they could possibly take for such an Accusation as that. For I appeal to you, Sir, who shews most Veneration for the Memory of _Shakespear_, he who loves and admires his Charms and makes them one of his chief Delights, who sees him and reads him over and over and still remains unsatiated, and who mentions his Faults for no other Reason but to make his Excellency the more conspicuous, or he who, pretending to be his blind Admirer, shews in Effect the utmost Contempt for him, preferring empty effeminate Sound to his solid Beauties and manly Graces, and deserting him every Night for an execrable _Italian_ Ballad, so vile that a Boy who should write such lamentable Dogrel would be turn’d out of _Westminster_-School for a desperate Blockhead, too stupid to be corrected and amended by the harshest Discipline of the Place?

_I am_, _Sir_, _Yours, &c._

ALEXANDER POPE: PREFACE TO EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE. 1725.

It is not my design to enter into a Criticism upon this Author; tho’ to do it effectually and not superficially would be the best occasion that any just Writer could take, to form the judgment and taste of our nation. For of all _English_ Poets _Shakespear_ must be confessed to be the fairest and fullest subject for Criticism, and to afford the most numerous as well as most conspicuous instances, both of Beauties and Faults of all sorts. But this far exceeds the bounds of a Preface, the business of which is only to give an account of the fate of his Works, and the disadvantages under which they have been transmitted to us. We shall hereby extenuate many faults which are his, and clear him from the imputation of many which are not: A design, which, tho’ it can be no guide to future Criticks to do him justice in one way, will at least be sufficient to prevent their doing him an injustice in the other.

I cannot however but mention some of his principal and characteristic Excellencies, for which (notwithstanding his defects) he is justly and universally elevated above all other Dramatic Writers. Not that this is the proper place of praising him, but because I would not omit any occasion of doing it.

If ever any Author deserved the name of an _Original_, it was _Shakespear_. _Homer_ himself drew not his art so immediately from the fountains of Nature; it proceeded thro’ _Ægyptian_ strainers and channels, and came to him not without some tincture of the learning, or some cast of the models, of those before him. The Poetry of _Shakespear_ was Inspiration indeed: he is not so much an Imitator, as an Instrument, of Nature; and ’tis not so just to say that he speaks from her, as that she speaks thro’ him.

His _Characters_ are so much Nature her self, that ’tis a sort of injury to call them by so distant a name as Copies of her. Those of other Poets have a constant resemblance, which shews that they receiv’d them from one another, and were but multiplyers of the same image: each picture, like a mock-rainbow, is but the reflexion of a reflexion. But every single character in _Shakespear_ is as much an Individual as those in Life itself; it is as impossible to find any two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be Twins, will upon comparison be found remarkably distinct. To this life and variety of Character, we must add the wonderful Preservation of it; which is such throughout his plays, that had all the Speeches been printed without the very names of the Persons, I believe one might have apply’d them with certainty to every speaker.

The _Power_ over our _Passions_ was never possess’d in a more eminent degree, or display’d in so different instances. Yet all along, there is seen no labour, no pains to raise them; no preparation to guide our guess to the effect, or be perceiv’d to lead toward it: But the heart swells, and the tears burst out, just at the proper places: We are surpriz’d, the moment we weep; and yet upon reflection find the passion so just, that we shou’d be surpriz’d if we had not wept, and wept at that very moment.

How astonishing is it again, that the passions directly opposite to these, Laughter and Spleen, are no less at his command! that he is not more a master of the _Great_, than of the _Ridiculous_ in human nature; of our noblest tendernesses, than of our vainest foibles; of our strongest emotions, than of our idlest sensations!

Nor does he only excel in the Passions: In the coolness of Reflection and Reasoning he is full as admirable. His _Sentiments_ are not only in general the most pertinent and judicious upon every subject; but by a talent very peculiar, something between Penetration and Felicity, he hits upon that particular point on which the bent of each argument turns, or the force of each motive depends. This is perfectly amazing, from a man of no education or experience in those great and publick scenes of life which are usually the subject of his thoughts: So that he seems to have known the world by Intuition, to have look’d thro’ humane nature at one glance, and to be the only Author that gives ground for a very new opinion, That the Philosopher, and even the Man of the world, may be _Born_, as well as the Poet.

It must be own’d that with all these great excellencies he has almost as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, so he has perhaps written worse, than any other. But I think I can in some measure account for these defects, from several causes and accidents; without which it is hard to imagine that so large and so enlighten’d a mind could ever have been susceptible of them. That all these Contingencies should unite to his disadvantage seems to me almost as singularly unlucky, as that so many various (nay contrary) Talents should meet in one man, was happy and extraordinary.

It must be allowed that Stage-Poetry of all other is more particularly levell’d to please the _Populace_, and its success more immediately depending upon the _Common Suffrage_. One cannot therefore wonder, if _Shakespear_, having at his first appearance no other aim in his writings than to procure a subsistance, directed his endeavours solely to hit the taste and humour that then prevailed. The Audience was generally composed of the meaner sort of people; and therefore the Images of Life were to be drawn from those of their own rank: accordingly we find that not our Author’s only but almost all the old Comedies have their Scene among _Tradesmen_ and _Mechanicks_: And even their Historical Plays strictly follow the common _Old Stories_ or _Vulgar Traditions_ of that kind of people. In Tragedy, nothing was so sure to _Surprize_ and cause _Admiration_, as the most strange, unexpected, and consequently most unnatural, Events and Incidents; the most exaggerated Thoughts; the most verbose and bombast Expression; the most pompous Rhymes, and thundering Versification. In Comedy, nothing was so sure to _please_, as mean buffoonry, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jests of fools and clowns. Yet even in these our Author’s Wit buoys up, and is born above his subject: his Genius in those low parts is like some Prince of a Romance in the disguise of a Shepherd or Peasant; a certain Greatness and Spirit now and then break out, which manifest his higher extraction and qualities.

It may be added, that not only the common Audience had no notion of the rules of writing, but few even of the better sort piqu’d themselves upon any great degree of knowledge or nicety that way, till _Ben Johnson_ getting possession of the Stage brought critical learning into vogue: And that this was not done without difficulty, may appear from those frequent lessons (and indeed almost Declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays, and put into the mouth of his Actors, the _Grex_, _Chorus_, &c. to remove the prejudices, and inform the judgment of his hearers. Till then, our Authors had no thoughts of writing on the model of the Ancients: their Tragedies were only Histories in Dialogue; and their Comedies follow’d the thread of any Novel as they found it, no less implicitly than if it had been true History.

To judge therefore of _Shakespear_ by _Aristotle_’s rules, is like trying a man by the Laws of one Country, who acted under those of another. He writ to the _People_; and writ at first without patronage from the better sort, and therefore without aims of pleasing them: without assistance or advice from the Learned, as without the advantage of education or acquaintance among them: without that knowledge of the best models, the Ancients, to inspire him with an emulation of them; in a word, without any views of Reputation, and of what Poets are pleas’d to call Immortality: Some or all of which have encourag’d the vanity, or animated the ambition, of other writers.

Yet it must be observ’d, that when his performances had merited the protection of his Prince, and when the encouragement of the Court had succeeded to that of the Town, the works of his riper years are manifestly raised above those of his former. The Dates of his plays sufficiently evidence that his productions improved, in proportion to the respect he had for his auditors. And I make no doubt this observation will be found true in every instance, were but Editions extant from which we might learn the exact time when every piece was composed, and whether writ for the Town or the Court.

Another Cause (and no less strong than the former) may be deduced from our Author’s being a _Player_, and forming himself first upon the judgments of that body of men whereof he was a member. They have ever had a Standard to themselves, upon other principles than those of _Aristotle_. As they live by the Majority, they know no rule but that of pleasing the present humour, and complying with the wit in fashion; a consideration which brings all their judgment to a short point. Players are just such judges of what is _right_, as Taylors are of what is _graceful_. And in this view it will be but fair to allow, that most of our Author’s faults are less to be ascribed to his wrong judgment as a Poet, than to his right judgment as a Player.

By these men it was thought a praise to _Shakespear_, that he scarce ever _blotted a line_. This they industriously propagated, as appears from what we are told by _Ben Johnson_ in his _Discoveries_, and from the preface of _Heminges_ and _Condell_ to the first folio Edition. But in reality (however it has prevailed) there never was a more groundless report, or to the contrary of which there are more undeniable evidences: As, the Comedy of the _Merry Wives_ of _Windsor_, which he entirely new writ; the _History of_ Henry _the 6th_, which was first published under the Title of the _Contention of_ York _and_ Lancaster; and that of Henry _the 5th_, extreamly improved; that of _Hamlet_ enlarged to almost as much again as at first, and many others. I believe the common opinion of his want of Learning proceeded from no better ground. This too might be thought a Praise by some; and to this his Errors have as injudiciously been ascribed by others. For ’tis certain, were it true, it would concern but a small part of them; the most are such as are not properly Defects, but Superfœtations: and arise not from want of learning or reading, but from want of thinking or judging: or rather (to be more just to our Author) from a compliance to those wants in others. As to a wrong choice of the subject, a wrong conduct of the incidents, false thoughts, forc’d expressions, &c. if these are not to be ascrib’d to the foresaid accidental reasons, they must be charg’d upon the Poet himself, and there is no help for it. But I think the two Disadvantages which I have mentioned (to be obliged to please the lowest of the people, and to keep the worst of company), if the consideration be extended as far as it reasonably may, will appear sufficient to mis-lead and depress the greatest Genius upon earth. Nay the more modesty with which such a one is endued, the more he is in danger of submitting and conforming to others, against his own better judgment.

But as to his _Want of Learning_, it may be necessary to say something more: There is certainly a vast difference between _Learning_ and _Languages_. How far he was ignorant of the latter, I cannot determine; but ’tis plain he had much Reading at least, if they will not call it Learning. Nor is it any great matter, if a man has Knowledge, whether he has it from one language or from another. Nothing is more evident than that he had a taste of natural Philosophy, Mechanicks, ancient and modern History, Poetical learning, and Mythology: We find him very knowing in the customs, rites, and manners of Antiquity. In _Coriolanus_ and _Julius Cæsar_, not only the Spirit, but Manners, of the _Romans_ are exactly drawn; and still a nicer distinction is shewn, between the manners of the _Romans_ in the time of the former and of the latter. His reading in the ancient Historians is no less conspicuous, in many references to particular passages: and the speeches copy’d from _Plutarch_ in _Coriolanus_ may, I think, as well be made an instance of his learning, as those copy’d from _Cicero_ in _Catiline_, of _Ben Johnson_’s. The manners of other nations in general, the _Egyptians_, _Venetians_, _French_, &c., are drawn with equal propriety. Whatever object of nature, or branch of science, he either speaks of or describes, it is always with competent, if not extensive knowledge: his descriptions are still exact; all his metaphors appropriated, and remarkably drawn from the true nature and inherent qualities of each subject. When he treats of Ethic or Politic, we may constantly observe a wonderful justness of distinction, as well as extent of comprehension. No one is more a master of the Poetical story, or has more frequent allusions to the various parts of it: Mr. _Waller_ (who has been celebrated for this last particular) has not shown more learning this way than _Shakespear_. We have Translations from _Ovid_ published in his name, among those Poems which pass for his, and for some of which we have undoubted authority (being published by himself, and dedicated to his noble Patron the Earl of _Southampton_). He appears also to have been conversant in _Plautus_, from whom he has taken the plot of one of his plays: he follows the _Greek_ Authors, and particularly _Dares Phrygius_, in another (altho’ I will not pretend to say in what language he read them). The modern _Italian_ writers of Novels he was manifestly acquainted with; and we may conclude him to be no less conversant with the Ancients of his own country, from the use he has made of _Chaucer_ in _Troilus_ and _Cressida_, and in the _Two Noble Kinsmen_, if that Play be his, as there goes a Tradition it was (and indeed it has little resemblance of _Fletcher_, and more of our Author than some of those which have been received as genuine).

I am inclined to think, this opinion proceeded originally from the zeal of the Partizans of our Author and _Ben Johnson_; as they endeavoured to exalt the one at the expence of the other. It is ever the nature of Parties to be in extremes; and nothing is so probable, as that because _Ben Johnson_ had much the more learning, it was said on the one hand that _Shakespear_ had none at all; and because _Shakespear_ had much the most wit and fancy, it was retorted on the other, that _Johnson_ wanted both. Because _Shakespear_ borrowed nothing, it was said that _Ben Johnson_ borrowed every thing. Because _Johnson_ did not write extempore, he was reproached with being a year about every piece; and because _Shakespear_ wrote with ease and rapidity, they cryed, he never once made a blot. Nay the spirit of opposition ran so high, that whatever those of the one side objected to the other, was taken at the rebound, and turned into Praises; as injudiciously as their antagonists before had made them Objections.

Poets are always afraid of Envy; but sure they have as much reason to be afraid of Admiration. They are the _Scylla_ and _Charybdis_ of Authors; those who escape one, often fall by the other. _Pessimum genus inimicorum Laudantes_, says _Tacitus_: and _Virgil_ desires to wear a charm against those who praise a Poet without rule or reason.

——Si ultra placitum laudarit, baccare frontem
Cingito, ne Vati noceat——.

But however this contention might be carried on by the Partizans on either side, I cannot help thinking these two great Poets were good friends, and lived on amicable terms and in offices of society with each other. It is an acknowledged fact, that _Ben Johnson_ was introduced upon the Stage, and his first works encouraged, by _Shakespear_. And after his death, that Author writes _To the memory of __ his beloved Mr._ William Shakespear, which shows as if the friendship had continued thro’ life. I cannot for my own part find any thing _Invidious_ or _Sparing_ in those verses, but wonder Mr. _Dryden_ was of that opinion. He exalts him not only above all his Contemporaries, but above _Chaucer_ and _Spenser_, whom he will not allow to be great enough to be rank’d with him; and challenges the names of _Sophocles_, _Euripides_, and _Æschylus_, nay all _Greece_ and _Rome_ at once, to equal him: And (which is very particular) expressly vindicates him from the imputation of wanting _Art_, not enduring that all his excellencies shou’d be attributed to _Nature_. It is remarkable too, that the praise he gives him in his _Discoveries_ seems to proceed from a _personal kindness_; he tells us that he lov’d the man, as well as honoured his memory; celebrates the honesty, openness, and frankness of his temper; and only distinguishes, as he reasonably ought, between the real merit of the Author, and the silly and derogatory applauses of the Players. _Ben Johnson_ might indeed be sparing in his Commendations (tho’ certainly he is not so in this instance) partly from his own nature, and partly from judgment. For men of judgment think they do any man more service in praising him justly, than lavishly. I say, I would fain believe they were Friends, tho’ the violence and ill-breeding of their Followers and Flatterers were enough to give rise to the contrary report. I would hope that it may be with _Parties_, both in Wit and State, as with those Monsters described by the Poets; and that their _Heads_ at least may have something humane, tho’ their _Bodies_ and _Tails_ are wild beasts and serpents.

As I believe that what I have mentioned gave rise to the opinion of _Shakespear_’s want of learning; so what has continued it down to us may have been the many blunders and illiteracies of the first Publishers of his works. In these Editions their ignorance shines almost in every page; nothing is more common than _Actus tertia_, _Exit Omnes_, _Enter three Witches solus_. Their French is as bad as their _Latin_, both in construction and spelling: Their very _Welsh_ is false. Nothing is more likely than that those palpable blunders of _Hector_’s quoting _Aristotle_, with others of that gross kind, sprung from the same root: It not being at all credible that these could be the errors of any man who had the least tincture of a School, or the least conversation with such as had. _Ben Johnson_ (whom they will not think partial to him) allows him at least to have had _some Latin_; which is utterly inconsistent with mistakes like these. Nay the constant blunders in proper names of persons and places, are such as must have proceeded from a man who had not so much as read any history, in any language: so could not be _Shakespear_’s.

I shall now lay before the reader some of those almost innumerable Errors which have risen from one source, the ignorance of the Players, both as his actors, and as his editors. When the nature and kinds of these are enumerated and considered, I dare to say that not _Shakespear_ only, but _Aristotle_ or _Cicero_, had their works undergone the same fate, might have appear’d to want sense as well as learning.

It is not certain that any one of his Plays was published by himself. During the time of his employment in the Theatre, several of his pieces were printed separately in Quarto. What makes me think that most of these were not publish’d by him, is the excessive carelessness of the press: every page is so scandalously false spelled, and almost all the learned and unusual words so intolerably mangled, that it’s plain there either was no Correcter to the press at all, or one totally illiterate. If any were supervised by himself, I should fancy the two parts of _Henry the 4th_ and _Midsummer-Night’s Dream_ might have been so: because I find no other printed with any exactness; and (contrary to the rest) there is very little variation in all the subsequent editions of them. There are extant two Prefaces, to the first quarto edition of _Troilus_ and _Cressida_ in 1609, and to that of _Othello_; by which it appears, that the first was publish’d without his knowledge or consent, and even before it was acted, so late as seven or eight years before he died: and that the latter was not printed till after his death. The whole number of genuine plays which we have been able to find printed in his life-time, amounts but to eleven. And of some of these, we meet with two or more editions by different printers, each of which has whole heaps of trash different from the other: which I should fancy was occasion’d by their being taken from different copies, belonging to different Playhouses.

The folio edition (in which all the plays we now receive as his were first collected) was published by two Players, _Heming_ and _Condell_, in 1623, seven years after his decease. They declare that all the other editions were stolen and surreptitious, and affirm theirs to be purged from the errors of the former. This is true as to the literal errors, and no other; for in all respects else it is far worse than the Quarto’s:

First, because the additions of trifling and bombast passages are in this edition far more numerous. For whatever had been added, since those Quarto’s, by the actors, or had stolen from their mouths into the written parts, were from thence conveyed into the printed text, and all stand charged upon the Author. He himself complained of this usage in _Hamlet_, where he wishes that _those who play the Clowns wou’d speak no more than is set down for them_ (Act 3. Sc. 4.). But as a proof that he could not escape it, in the old editions of _Romeo_ and _Juliet_ there is no hint of a great number of the mean conceits and ribaldries now to be found there. In others, the low scenes of Mobs, Plebeians, and Clowns, are vastly shorter than at present: And I have seen one in particular (which seems to have belonged to the Playhouse, by having the parts divided with lines, and the Actors names in the margin) where several of those very passages were added in a written hand, which are since to be found in the folio.

In the next place, a number of beautiful passages which are extant in the first single editions, are omitted in this: as it seems, without any other reason than their willingness to shorten some scenes: These men (as it was said of _Procrustes_) either lopping or stretching an Author, to make him just fit for their Stage.

This edition is said to be printed from the _Original Copies_; I believe they meant those which had lain ever since the Author’s days in the playhouse, and had from time to time been cut, or added to, arbitrarily. It appears that this edition, as well as the Quarto’s, was printed (at least partly) from no better copies than the _Prompter’s Book_ or _Piece-meal Parts_ written out for the use of the actors: For in some places their very(38) names are thro’ carelessness set down instead of the _Personæ Dramatis_: And in others the notes of direction to the _Property-men_ for their _Moveables_, and to the _Players_ for their _Entries_,(39) are inserted into the Text, thro’ the ignorance of the Transcribers.

The Plays not having been before so much as distinguish’d by _Acts_ and _Scenes_, they are in this edition divided according as they play’d them; often when there is no pause in the action, or where they thought fit to make a breach in it, for the sake of Musick, Masques, or Monsters.

Sometimes the scenes are transposed and shuffled backward and forward; a thing which could no otherwise happen, but by their being taken from separate and piece-meal-written parts.

Many verses are omitted intirely, and others transposed; from whence invincible obscurities have arisen, past the guess of any Commentator to clear up, but just where the accidental glympse of an old edition enlightens us.

Some Characters were confounded and mix’d, or two put into one, for want of a competent number of actors. Thus in the Quarto edition of _Midsummer-Night’s Dream_, Act 5, _Shakespear_ introduces a kind of Master of the Revels called _Philostratus_: all whose part is given to another character (that of _Ægeus_) in the subsequent editions: So also in _Hamlet_ and _King Lear_. This too makes it probable that the Prompter’s Books were what they call’d the Original Copies.

From liberties of this kind, many speeches also were put into the mouths of wrong persons, where the Author now seems chargeable with making them speak out of character: Or sometimes perhaps for no better reason than that a governing Player, to have the mouthing of some favourite speech himself, would snatch it from the unworthy lips of an Underling.

Prose from verse they did not know, and they accordingly printed one for the other throughout the volume.

Having been forced to say so much of the Players, I think I ought in justice to remark, that the Judgment, as well as Condition, of that class of people was then far inferior to what it is in our days. As then the best Playhouses were Inns and Taverns (the _Globe_, the _Hope_, the _Red Bull_, the _Fortune_, &c.), so the top of the profession were then meer Players, not Gentlemen of the stage: They were led into the Buttery by the Steward, not plac’d at the Lord’s table, or Lady’s toilette: and consequently were intirely depriv’d of those advantages they now enjoy, in the familiar conversation of our Nobility, and an intimacy (not to say dearness) with people of the first condition.

From what has been said, there can be no question but had _Shakespear_ published his works himself (especially in his latter time, and after his retreat from the stage) we should not only be certain which are genuine; but should find in those that are, the errors lessened by some thousands. If I may judge from all the distinguishing marks of his style, and his manner of thinking and writing, I make no doubt to declare that those wretched plays, _Pericles_, _Locrine_, _Sir John Oldcastle_, _Yorkshire Tragedy_, _Lord Cromwell_, _The Puritan_, and _London Prodigal_, cannot be admitted as his. And I should conjecture of some of the others (particularly _Love’s Labour’s Lost_, _The Winter’s Tale_, and _Titus Andronicus_), that only some characters, single scenes, or perhaps a few particular passages, were of his hand. It is very probable what occasion’d some Plays to be supposed _Shakespear_’s was only this; that they were pieces produced by unknown authors, or fitted up for the Theatre while it was under his administration: and no owner claiming them, they were adjudged to him, as they give Strays to the Lord of the Manor: A mistake which (one may also observe) it was not for the interest of the House to remove. Yet the Players themselves, _Hemings_ and _Condell_, afterwards did _Shakespear_ the justice to reject those eight plays in their edition; tho’ they were then printed in his name, in every body’s hands, and acted with some applause (as we learn from what _Ben Johnson_ says of _Pericles_ in his Ode on the _New Inn_). That _Titus Andronicus_ is one of this class I am the rather induced to believe, by finding the same Author openly express his contempt of it in the _Induction_ to _Bartholomew-Fair_, in the year 1614, when _Shakespear_ was yet living. And there is no better authority for these latter sort, than for the former, which were equally published in his lifetime.

If we give into this opinion, how many low and vicious parts and passages might no longer reflect upon this great Genius, but appear unworthily charged upon him? And even in those which are really his, how many faults may have been unjustly laid to his account from arbitrary Additions, Expunctions, Transpositions of scenes and lines, confusion of Characters and Persons, wrong application of Speeches, corruptions of innumerable Passages by the Ignorance, and wrong Corrections of ’em again by the Impertinence, of his first Editors? From one or other of these considerations, I am verily perswaded, that the greatest and the grossest part of what are thought his errors would vanish, and leave his character in a light very different from that disadvantageous one, in which it now appears to us.

This is the state in which _Shakespear_’s, writings lye at present; for since the above-mentioned Folio Edition, all the rest have implicitly followed it, without having recourse to any of the former, or ever making the comparison between them. It is impossible to repair the Injuries already done him; too much time has elaps’d, and the materials are too few. In what I have done I have rather given a proof of my willingness and desire, than of my ability, to do him justice. I have discharg’d the dull duty of an Editor to my best judgment, with more labour than I expect thanks, with a religious abhorrence of all Innovation, and without any indulgence to my private sense or conjecture. The method taken in this Edition will show it self. The various Readings are fairly put in the margin, so that every one may compare ’em; and those I have prefer’d into the Text are constantly _ex fide Codicum_, upon authority. The Alterations or Additions which _Shakespear_ himself made, are taken notice of as they occur. Some suspected passages which are excessively bad (and which seem Interpolations by being so inserted that one can intirely omit them without any chasm or deficience in the context) are degraded to the bottom of the page; with an Asterisk referring to the places of their insertion. The Scenes are mark’d so distinctly that every removal of place is specify’d; which is more necessary in this Author than any other, since he shifts them more frequently: and sometimes, without attending to this particular, the reader would have met with obscurities. The more obsolete or unusual words are explained. Some of the most shining passages are distinguish’d by comma’s in the margin; and where the beauty lay not in particulars but in the whole, a star is prefix’d to the scene. This seems to me a shorter and less ostentatious method of performing the better half of Criticism (namely the pointing out an Author’s excellencies) than to fill a whole paper with citations of fine passages, with _general Applauses_, or _empty Exclamations_ at the tail of them. There is also subjoin’d a Catalogue of those first Editions by which the greater part of the various readings and of the corrected passages are authorised (most of which are such as carry their own evidence along with them). These Editions now hold the place of Originals, and are the only materials left to repair the deficiences or restore the corrupted sense of the Author: I can only wish that a greater number of them (if a greater were ever published) may yet be found, by a search more successful than mine, for the better accomplishment of this end.

I will conclude by saying of _Shakespear_, that with all his faults, and with all the irregularity of his _Drama_, one may look upon his works, in comparison of those that are more finish’d and regular, as upon an ancient majestick piece of _Gothick_ Architecture, compar’d with a neat Modern building: The latter is more elegant and glaring, but the former is more strong and more solemn. It must be allow’d that in one of these there are materials enough to make many of the other. It has much the greater variety, and much the nobler apartments; tho’ we are often conducted to them by dark, odd, and uncouth passages. Nor does the Whole fail to strike us with greater reverence, tho’ many of the Parts are childish, ill-plac’d, and unequal to its grandeur.

LEWIS THEOBALD: PREFACE TO EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE. 1733.

The Attempt to write upon SHAKESPEARE is like going into a large, a spacious, and a splendid Dome thro’ the Conveyance of a narrow and obscure Entry. A Glare of Light suddenly breaks upon you beyond what the Avenue at first promis’d: and a thousand Beauties of Genius and Character, like so many gaudy Apartments pouring at once upon the Eye, diffuse and throw themselves out to the Mind. The Prospect is too wide to come within the Compass of a single View: ’tis a gay Confusion of pleasing Objects, too various to be enjoyed but in a general Admiration; and they must be separated, and ey’d distinctly, in order to give the proper Entertainment.

And as in great Piles of Building, some Parts are often finish’d up to hit the Taste of the _Connoisseur_; others more negligently put together, to strike the Fancy of a common and unlearned Beholder: Some Parts are made stupendously magnificent and grand, to surprize with the vast Design and Execution of the Architect; others are contracted, to amuse you with his Neatness and Elegance in little. So, in _Shakespeare_, we may find _Traits_ that will stand the Test of the severest Judgment; and Strokes as carelessly hit off, to the Level of the more ordinary Capacities: Some Descriptions rais’d to that Pitch of Grandeur, as to astonish you with the Compass and Elevation of his Thought; and others copying Nature within so narrow, so confined a Circle, as if the Author’s Talent lay only at drawing in Miniature.

In how many points of Light must we be obliged to gaze at this great Poet! In how many Branches of Excellence to consider and admire him! Whether we view him on the Side of Art or Nature, he ought equally to engage our Attention: Whether we respect the Force and Greatness of his Genius, the Extent of his Knowledge and Reading, the Power and Address with which he throws out and applies either Nature or Learning, there is ample scope both for our Wonder and Pleasure. If his Diction and the cloathing of his Thoughts attract us, how much more must we be charm’d with the Richness and Variety of his Images and Ideas! If his Images and Ideas steal into our Souls, and strike upon our Fancy, how much are they improv’d in Price, when we come to reflect with what Propriety and Justness they are apply’d to Character! If we look into his Characters, and how they are furnish’d and proportion’d to the Employment he cuts out for them, how are we taken up with the Mastery of his Portraits! What Draughts of Nature! What Variety of Originals, and how differing each from the other! How are they dress’d from the Stores of his own luxurious Imagination; without being the Apes of Mode, or borrowing from any foreign Wardrobe! Each of them are the standards of Fashion for themselves: like Gentlemen that are above the Direction of their Tailors, and can adorn themselves without the aid of Imitation. If other Poets draw more than one Fool or Coxcomb, there is the same Resemblance in them as in that Painter’s Draughts, who was happy only at forming a Rose: you find them all younger Brothers of the same Family, and all of them have a Pretence to give the same Crest: But _Shakespeare_’s Clowns and Fops come all of a different House; they are no farther allied to one another than as Man to Man, Members of the same Species: but as different in Features and Lineaments of Character, as we are from one another in Face or Complexion. But I am unawares lanching into his Character as a Writer, before I have said what I intended of him as a private Member of the Republick.

Mr. _Rowe_ has very justly observ’d, that People are fond of discovering any little personal Story of the Great Men of Antiquity; and that the common Accidents of their Lives naturally become the Subject of our critical Enquiries: That however trifling such a Curiosity at the first View may appear, yet, as for what relates to Men of Letters, the Knowledge of an Author may, perhaps, sometimes conduce to the better understanding his Works: And, indeed, this Author’s Works, from the bad Treatment he has met with from Copyists and Editors, have so long wanted a Comment, that one would zealously embrace every Method of Information that could contribute to recover them from the injuries with which they have so long lain o’erwhelm’d.

’Tis certain that if we have first admir’d the Man in his Writings, his Case is so circumstanc’d that we must naturally admire the Writings in the Man: That if we go back to take a View of his Education, and the Employment in Life which Fortune had cut out for him, we shall retain the stronger Ideas of his extensive Genius.