in Jan. 28, 1608, entered by Richard Bonian and Hen. Whalley: 'A Booke called the History of Troilus and Cressida. This last entry is made by the booksellers, who published this play in 4to. in 1609. To this edition is prefixed a preface, showing that the play was printed before it had been acted; and that it was published, without the author's knowledge, from a copy that had fallen into the booksellers' hands. This preface, as bestowing just praise on Shakspeare, and showing that the original proprietors of his plays thought it their interest to keep them unprinted, is prefixed to the play in the present edition. It appears from some entries in the accounts of Henslowe the player, that a drama on this subject, by Decker and Chettle, at first called Troyelles and Cressida, but, before its production, altered in its title to The Tragedy of Agamemnon, was in existence anterior to Shakspeare's play, and that it was licensed by the Master of the Revels on the 3d of June, 1599. Malone places the date of the composition of Shakspeare's play in 1602; Mr. Chalmers in 1600; and Dr. Drake in 1601. They have been led to this conclusion by the supposed ridicule of the circumstance of Cressid receiving the sleeve of Troilus and giving him her glove in the comedy of Histriomastix, 1610. I think that the satire was pointed at the older drama of Decker and Chettle; and should certainly give a later date to the play of Shakspeare than that which has been assigned to it. If we may credit the preface to the 4to. of 1609, this play had not then appeared on the stage, and could not therefore have been ridiculed in a piece written previous to the death of Queen Elizabeth (see note on Act iv. Sc. 4). Malone says, ' Were it not for the entry in the Stationers' books [of which there is no proof that it relates to this play], I should have been led, both by the colour of the style, and from this preface, to class it in the year 1608.'

There is no reason for concluding with Schlegel that Shakspeare intended his drama as 'one continued irony of the crown of all heroic tales-the tale of Troy.' The poet abandoned the classic and followed the gothic or romantic authorities; and this influenced the colour of his performance. The fact probably is, that he pursued the manner in which parts of the story had been before dramatised. There is an interlude on the sub

ject of Thersites*, resembling the Old Mysteries in its structure, but full of the lowest buffoonery. If the drama of Decker and Chettle were now to be found, I doubt not we should see that the present play was at least founded on it, if not a mere rifaccimento.

'The whole catalogue of the Dramatis Personæ in the play of Troilus and Cressida (says Mr. Godwin), so far as they depend upon a rich and original vein of humour in the author, are drawn with a felicity which never was surpassed. The genius of Homer has been a topic of admiration to almost every generation of men since the period in which he wrote. But his characters will not bear the slightest comparison with the delineation of the same characters as they stand in Shakspeare. This is a species of honour which ought by no means to be forgotten when we are making the eulogium of our immortal bard, a sort of illustration of his greatness which cannot fail to place it in a very conspicuous light. The dispositions of men perhaps had not been sufficiently unfolded in the very early period of intellectual refinement when Homer wrote; the rays of humour had not been dissected by the glass, or rendered perdurable by the rays of the poet. Homer's characters are drawn with a laudable portion of variety and consistency; but his Achilles, his Ajax, and his Nestor are, each of them, rather a species

* This interlude, together with another not less curious called Jack Juggler, was reprinted from a unique copy by Mr. Haslewood for the Roxburgh club. I owe to the friendly kindness of that gentleman the marked distinction of possessing one of four additional copies printed for friends not members of that society. These rude dramas are not mere literary curiosities, they form a prominent feature in the history of the progress of the stage, and are otherwise valuable as illustrating the state of manners and language in the reign of Henry the Eighth. I have found colloquial phrases and words explained by them, of which it would be vain to seek illustrations elsewhere.

Mr. Tyrwhitt has observed that there are more hard bombastical phrases in this play than can be picked out of any other six plays of Shakspeare. Would not this be an additional argument in favour of what I have here advanced, that it may be a mere alteration of the older play above mentioned?

than an individual, and can boast more of the propriety of abstraction than of the vivacity of the moving scene of absolute life. The Achilles, Ajax, and the various Grecian heroes of Shakspeare, on the other hand, are absolutely men deficient in nothing which can tend to individualise them, and already touched with the Promethean fire that might infuse a soul into what, without it, were lifeless form. From the rest, perhaps, the character of Thersites deserves to be selected (how cold and schoolboy a sketch in Homer), as exhibiting an appropriate vein of sarcastic humour amidst his cowardice, and a profoundness and truth in his mode of laying open the foibles of those about him, impossible to be excelled.'

Shakspeare possessed, no man in a higher perfection, the true dignity and loftiness of the poetical afflatus, which he had displayed in many of the finest passages of his works with miraculous success. But he knew that no man ever was, or ever can be always dignified. He knew that those subtler traits of character which identify a man are familiar and relaxed, pervaded with passion, and not played off with an eye to external decoIn this respect the peculiarities of Shakspeare's genius are no where more forcibly illustrated than in the play we are here considering.'

rum.

The champions of Greece and Troy, from the hour in which their names were first recorded, had always worn a certain formality of attire, and marched with a slow and measured step. No poet, till this time, had ever ventured to force them out of the manner which their epic creator had given them. Shakspeare first supplied their limbs, took from them the classic stiffness of their gait, and enriched them with an entire set of those attributes which might render them completely beings of the same species with ourselves*.'

* Life of Chaucer, vol. i. p. 509–12, 8vo. ed.

PREFACE

TO THE QUARTO EDITION OF THIS PLAY, 1609.

A never writer, to an ever reader. Newes.

ETERNALL reader, you have heere a new play, never stal'd with the stage, never clapper-claw'd with the palmes of the vulger, and yet passing full of the palme comicall; for it is a birth of your braine, that never under-tooke any thing commicall, vainely and were but the vaine names of commedies changde for the titles of commodities, or of playes for pleas; you should see all those grand censors, that now stile them such vanities, flock to them for the maine grace of their gravities; especially this authors commedies, that are so fram'd to the life, that they serve for the most common commentaries of all the actions of our lives, shewing such a dexteritie and power of witte, that the most displeased with playes, are pleasd with his commedies. And all such dull and heavy witted worldlings, as were never capable of the witte of a commedie, comming by report of them to his representations, have found that witte there, that they never found in them-selves, and have parted betterwittied then they came: feeling an edge of witte set upon them, more than ever they dreamd they had braine to grind it on. So much and such

313

PREFACE TO THE QUARTO EDITION. savored salt of witte is in his commedies, that they seem (for their height of pleasure) to be borne in that sea that brought forth Venus. Amongst all there is none more witty than this: and had I time I would comment upon it, though I know it needs not (for so much as will make you think your testern well bestowd), but for so much worth, as even poore I know to be stuft in it. It deserves such a labour, as well as the best commedy in Terence or Plautus. And beleeve this, that when hee is gone, and his commedies out of sale, you will scramble for them, and set up a new English inquisition. Take this for a warning, and at the perill of your pleasures losse, and judgements, refuse not, nor like this the lesse, for not being sullied with the smoaky breath of the multitude; but thank fortune for the scape it hath made amongst you. Since by the grand possessors wills I believe you should have prayd for them rather then beene prayd. And so I leave all such to bee prayd for (for the states of their wits healths) that will not praise it. Vale.