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own Hamlet.' I should have been much more pleased, to have learned from certain authority, which was the first play he wrote ; ? it would be without doubt a pleasure to any man, curious in things of this kind, to see and know what was the first effay of a fancy like Shakspeare's. Perhaps we are not to look for his beginnings, like those of other authors, among their least perfect writings; art had so little, and nature fo large a share in what he did, that, for aught I know, the performances of his youth, as they were the most vigorous, and had the most fire and strength of inagination in them, were the best." I would not be thought by this to mean, that his fancy was so loose and extravagant, as to be independent on the rule and government of judgment; but that what he thought, was commonly so great, so justly and rightly conceived in itself, that it wanted little or no correction, and was immediately approved by an impartial judgment at the first sight. But though the order of time in which the several pieces were written be generally uncertain, yet there are passages in some few of them which seem to fix their dates. So the Chorus at the end of the fourth act of Henry
9 – than that the top of his performance was the Ghost in his own Hamlet.) See such notices as I have been able to collect on this subject, in the List of old English actors, post. MALONE.
to have learned from certain authorily, which was the first play he wrote;) The highest date of any. I can yet find, is Romeo and Juliet in 1597, when the author was 33 years
and Richard the Second, and Third, in the next year, viz. the 34th of his age. Pope.
Richard II. and III. were both printed in 1597. - On the order of time in which Shakspeare's plays were written, fee the Essay in the second volume. MALONE.
3 - for aught I know, the performances of his youth – were the best) see this notion controverted in An Attempt to ascertain the order of Shakspeare's plays. MALONE.
the Fifth, by a compliment very handsomely turned to the earl of Essex, shows the play to have been written when that lord was general for the queen in Ireland; and his elogy upon queen Elizabeth, and her successor king James, in the latter end of his Henry the Eighth, is a proof of that play's being written after the accession of the latter of those two princes to the crown of England. Whatever the particular times ofhis writing were, the people of his age, who began to grow wonderfully fond of diversions of this kind, could not but be highly pleased to see a genius arise amongst them of so pleasurable, so rich a vein, and so plentifully capable of furnishing their favorite entertainments. Besides the advantages of his wit, he was in himself a good-natured man, of great fweetnefs in his manners, and a most agreeable companion; so that itis no wonder, if, with so
many good qualities, he made himself acquainted with the best conversations of those times. Queen Elizabeth had several of his plays acted before her, and without doubt gave him many gracious marks of her favor: it is that maiden princefs plainly, whom he intends by a fair veftal, throned by the west.
A Midsummer-Night's Dream, and that whole passage is a compliment very properly brought in, and very handsomely applied to her. She was so well pleased with that admirable character of Falstaff, in The Two Parts of Henry, the Fourth, that she commanded him to continue it for one play more,* and to show him in love. This is said to be the occasion of his writing The Merry
- The commanded him to continue it for one play more, ) This anecdote was first given to the publick by Dennis, in the Epiftle Dedicatory. to his comedy entitled The Comical Gallant, 4to. 1702, altered from The Merry Wives of Windsor. Malone.
Wives of Windsor. How well fhe was obeyed, the play itself is an admirable proof. Upon this occafion it may not beimproper to observe, that this part of Falstaff is said to have been written originally undes the name of Oldcastle : ' some of that family being then remaining, the queen was pleased to command him to alter it; upon which he made use of Falstaff. The present offence was indeed avoided but I do not know whether the author may not have been somewhat to blame in his fecond choice, since it is certain that Sir John Falstaff, who was a knight of the garter, and a lieutenant-general, was a name of distinguished merit in the wars in France in Henry the Fifth's and Henry the Sixth's times. What grace soever the queen conferred upon him, it was not to her only he owed the fortune which the reputation of his wit inade. He had the honor to meet with many great and uncommon marks of favor and friendship from the earl of Southampton, famous in the histories of that time for his friendship to the unfortunate earl of Essex. It was to that noblelord that he dedicated his poem of Venus and Adonis.?
5. – this part of Falstaff is said to have been written originally under the name of Oldcaftle;) See the Epilogue to Henry the Fourth. POPE.
In a note fubjoined to that epilogue, and more fully in Vol. XIII. p. 184, n. 4, the reader will find this notion overturned, and the origin of this vulgar error pointed out. Mr. Rowe was evidently deceived by a passage in Fuller's Worthies, misunderstood. MALONE.
- from the earl of Southampton,) Ofthis amiable nobleman fuch memoirs as I have been able to collect,
be found in the twenty-fourth volume, prefixed to the poem of Venus and Adonis. MALONE.
7 -he dedicated his poem of Venus and Adonis.) To this nobleman also he dedicated his Rape of Lucrece, printed in quarto in 1594. MALONE.
There is one instance so singular in the magnificence of this patron of Shakspeare's, that if I had not been assured that the story was handed down by Sir William D'Avenant, who was probably very well acquainted with his affairs, I should not have ventured to have inserted ; that my lord Southampton at one time gave him a thousand pounds, to enable him to go through with a purchase which he heard he had a mind to. A bounty very great, and very rare at any time, and almost equal to that profuse generosity the present age has shown to French dancers and Italian singers.
What particular habitude or friendships he contracted with private men, I have not been able to learn, more than that every one, who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally juft value and esteem for him. His exceeding çandour and good-nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit obliged the men of the most delicate knowledge and polite learning to adınire him.
His acquaintance with Ben Jonson began with a remarkable piece of humanity and good-nature ; Mr. Jonson, who was at that time altogether unknown to the world, had offered one of his plays to the players, in order to have it acted; and the persons into whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly and fuperciliously over, were just upon returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it would be of no service to their company; when Shakspeare luckily cast his eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engage him first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Jonson and his writings to the publick.S
&to recommend Mr. Jonson and his writings to the publick.)
Jonfon was certainly a very good scholar, and in that had the advantage of Shakspeare; though at In Mr. Rowe's first edition, after these words was inserted the following passage:
6. After this, they were professed friends ; though I do not know whether the other ever made him an equal return of gentleness and sincerity. Ben was naturally proud and infolent, and in the days of his reputation did so far take upon him the fupremacy in wit, that he could not but look with an evil eye upon any one that seemed to stand in competition with him. And if at times he has affected to com mmend him, it has always been with some reserve; insinuating his uncorrectness, a carelefs manner of writing, and want of judgment. The praise of feldom altering or blotting out what he writ, which was given him by the players, who were the first publishers of his works after his death, was what Jonson could not bear : he thought it impoffible, perhaps, for another man to strike out the greatest thoughts in the finest expression, and to reach those excellencies of poetry with the case of a first imagination, which himself with infinite labor and study could but hardly attain to."
I have preserved this paffage because I believe it ftri&ly true, except that in the last line, instead of but hardly, I would Tead never.
Dryden, we are told by Pope, concurred with Mr. Rowe in thinking Jonson's posthumous verses on our author Sparing and invidious. See also Mr. Steevens's note on those verses.
Before Shakspeare's death Ben's envious difpofition is men. tioned by one of his own friends; it must therefore have been even then notorious, though the writer denies the truth of the charge :
« To my well accomplish'd friend', Mr. Ben Jonson. 5. Thou art found in body; but some say, thy foule
Envy doth ulcer; yet corrupted hearts 16 Such censurers must have.»
Scourge of Folly, by J. Davies, printed about 1611, The following lines by one of Jonson's admirers will sufficiently support Mr. Rowe in what he has faid relative to the flowness of that writer in his compositions :
61 Scorn then their censures who gave out, thy wit
That such thy drought was, and so great thy thirft,