University of Virginia Library

THE PREFACE.

The Work of Prefaces, to most Modern Plays, has been either to accuse the Town of Unkindness, to complain of private Injuries from the Theatre, or to do Justice to the particular Merit of Some shining Actor. Remonstrances of the first kind are but once read, and sleep with the Reader: And as for Acknowledgments, tho' I have Some to make to the Performers, I must, like an honest Man, begin first with my largest Debts, and make a Sort of Compensation for the Helps which I have borrowed from Shakespear.

The many scatter'd Beauties, which I have long admir'd in His Life and Death of K. Richard the II., induced me to think they would have stronger Charms, if they were interuoven in a regular Fable. For this Purpose, I have made some Innovations upon History and Shakespear; as, in bringing Richard and Bolingbroke to meet first at the Tower, keeping York steady to the Interest of the King, heightening Aumerle's Character in making him dye for the Cause, and in dispatching Richard at the Tower, who, indeed, was murther'd at Pontefract Castle. In these, and such Instances, I think there may be reserv'd a discretionary Power of Variation, either for maintaining the Unity of Action, or supporting the Dignity of the Characters. If the little Criticks will be angry at This, I have Patience to weather their Ill Nature: I shall stand excus'd among the better Judges,

—Dabiturq; Licentia sumpta pudenter.

The Second Motive, which I had for setting to Work on this Story, was, that it would afford me an Opportunity, in confessing my Obligations to Shakespear, of doing him some Justice upon the Points of his Learning, and Acquaintance with the Antients: Both

which have not only been contested, but even denied him in positive Terms. Perhaps, in robbing Him of these Secondary Aids, they might design a Compliment to the Force, and Extensiveness, of his Wit and Natural Parts.

Shakespear is allowed by All to have had the most wonderful Genius, and the warmest Imagination, of any Poet since the Name of Homer. As these Qualities led him to say, and express, many Things sublimely, figuratively, and elegantly; so they often forc'd him out of his Way, upon false Images, hard Metaphors, and Flights, where the Eye of Judgment cannot trace him. This Fault He has in common with All great Wits: Homer is accus'd of It by the Antients: There are many Instances of it in Æschylus: And Sophocles himself is not without these Transgressions of Fancy. This, indeed, is not a Point now to be contested; but, whether Shakespear had Them in a less, or greater, Degree than the Antients; or, whether he offended by Imitation, and their Authority; or, by the irregular Force of his own Genius,—That is the Question.

The Strength, and Vigour, of his Fancy have been confess'd, and admir'd, in the extravagant and supernatural Characters of his own Creation, such as his Caliban, Witches, &c. And give me Leave to take Notice of the Delicacy of his Spirit in One Instance; because the Observation has not, that I know of, ever yet been started by Any body. No Dramatic Poet, before Shakespear, in any Language that I know, or remember, has heighten'd his Distress from the Concurrence of the Heavens, as He has done in his Lear; by doubling the Compassion of the Audience for his Heroe, when they behold a Storm, in which he is turn'd out, aggravate the Rigour of his Daughters Inhumanity. How beautifully is that rude, and boisterous, Night describ'd! And what Reflections on their Savage Treatment of a Father!

—Things, that love Night,
Love not such Nights as these: the wrathful Skies
Gallow the very Wanderers of the Dark,
And make them keep their Caves: Since I was Man,
Such Sheets of Fire, such Bursts of horrid Thunder,
Such Groans of roaring Wind, and Rain, I never
Remember to have heard.—

And again,

I tax not You, ye Elements, with Unkindness;
I never gave You Kingdom, call'd You Children;
You owe me no Subscription: then let fall
Your horrible Pleasure: Here I stand your Slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd Old Man.
But yet I call you servile Ministers,
That will with Two pernicious Daughters join
Your high-engendred Battles, 'gainst a Head
So Old, and White, as This.—O! O! 'tis foul.

But This is a Digression, and 'tis Time now to come back to my Subject.

They, who affirm that Shakespear was wholly unacquainted with the Antients, beg the Question; and, perhaps, have been unreasonably led into that Error by the false Opinion of Some of his Contemporaries, and the falser Interpretation of their Meaning by Some Moderns. Ben Johnson seems to be the Original from whence they copy One after Another; and the farther from Him, still the more erroneously. For my own Part, I must declare concerning His Want of Understanding the Antients, as Sir John Denham does concerning Homer's Want of Sight, in those beautiful Lines,

I can no more believe old Homer blind,
Than Those who say the Sun has never shin'd;
The Age was dark wherein He liv'd, but He
Could not want Sight, who taught the World to see.

The Application is easy: Shakespear, who was the Father of the British Stage, who founded, rais'd, and modell'd it; who, tho' he vastly inrich'd the Theatre in his Life time, yet left such large Legacies to succeeding Poets, could never want those Aids of Learning, which must be necessary for a Work of so extensive a Nature. He must know many Things from Others, who went before Him; as well as observe many from his own Times; and invent, perhaps, many more from his own Fancy. If the Criticks will not allow This from the Reason of the Thing, we must come to Facts to prove it. We will first examine the Vulgar Error, deriv'd from Ben. Johnson: His Words are these, printed after Shakespear's Death, when we may be sure he hath spoke with the utmost Freedom of his Memory,

And tho' thou had'st small Latin, and less Greek,
From thence to honour Thee, &c.

It is very evident, that Ben allows him some Share of Knowledge in both these learned Languages. And it is not unlikely, that He, whose Pride lay in a greater Portion of Them, might deliver himself with too partial a Contempt of Shakespear's less Acquirements. It is Natural for great Scholars so to do; and we see too many Examples of it every Day, in their speaking of Others, to justify the Opinion: and make it probable that Ben, who never was renown'd for his Humanity, might in these Verses stretch a point in his own Favour and Commendation. Supposing Him then, even with Ben's Abatements, but moderately furnish'd with these Materials of Science; the next

Thing to be enquir'd, is, how far They might go toward the raising such a Superstructure, as Shakespear has rais'd upon them.

We know, by daily Experience, what a little Share of French, or Italian, will serve a Common Capacity to pick out the Meaning of most Authors in those Tongues: and make Him give no bad, if not the exactest, Account of his Reading. With This fair Allowance then of Shakespear's equal Knowledge in the learned Languages, most, if not all, of his Fables, Histories, and particular Facts are easily accounted for: And he is put, at least, upon the Foot of a tolerable Scholar. But there is Something yet more peculiar in the Case of Shakespear, consider'd as a Poet reading a Poet. Where there is a Similitude of Genius and Spirit, the Application will be the greater, the Fancy will catch Fire, and with little Aid of Language find out a Meaning, or make a better. I believe, I could be able to prove that Mr Dryden has done This in a hundred Instances, and why should we deny That to Shakespear, which is so visible in One of his Greatest Successors? This I take to be a fair Proof of the general Point; unless any One can find a Way how He should come at the Knowledge of the Greek, and Roman Stories, any other Way than by understanding the Language of their Writers.

It is granted, I think, that we had few or no Translations from the Antients in Shakespear's Younger Years at least; the Time most proper to make himself Master of Languages, and in that Period in which we are to look upon him as a Writer; for, 'tis certain, he left the Stage some Years before he dyed. However the Antiquaries may decide this Point, I can't tell: But it seems to be allowed on all Hands, that Dr. Holland, the laborious Translator, and perhaps, the First general One, began upon the Greek and Latin Authors long after Shakespear's Decease.

As to particular Passages in his Works to prove he was no inconsiderable Master of the Greek Story, there are but Two Plays, his Timon of Athens, and Troilus and Cressida—that can furnish me with Instances: But they are so numerous in These, as to leave it without Dispute, or Exception. But to prove that he owed several of his Thoughts and Sentiments to the Antients, whoever will take the Pains to dip into his Works with that View, I dare engage, will find evident Traces of Imitation, where he could expect them neither from the Characters, nor Fable.

'Tis to be granted, indeed, that Men born in different Climates, and different Ages, may think alike upon any Subject, without deriving their Notions from each Other: (As, we know, the same Thing, in Matters of Art, may, and has been invented at two several Places, without Either's having Information of the Other's Project.) But

then where there is a Sameness both of Image and Expression, and such an immediate Likeness as persuades one to believe that the English Author is translating, and giving you the Sense of the Greek One; there is Reason more than to suspect, and it must be own'd a circumstantial, if not a positive, Proof, that the First had the Latter in his Eye before he set his Pen to Paper. I shall content my self with one Example, and that upon a Topick, to which Mr. Gildon, who has collated Passages of Shakespear, which answer Those touch'd by the Latin Poets, says he could meet with no Parallels

In the Much ado about Nothing, a Comedy either founded on Romance, or Invention, we find Leonatus descanting thus,

—For, Brother, Men
Can counsel, and give Comfort to that Grief
Which They themselves not feel: but tasting it,
Their Counsel turns to Passion. [OMITTED] [OMITTED]
No, no; 'tis all Men's Office to speak Patience
To Those that wring under the Load of Sorrow,
But No Man has Virtue, or Sufficiency,
To be so moral, when he shall endure
The Like himself.

I must now subjoin four Passages from Old Dramatick Writers, who All have our Poet's Sentiment, and One of them almost in Terms: which Passages occurr'd to me when I first read this Topick of Shakespear; and first Impressions are generally the surest.

Facilè Omnes, quum valemus, recta Consilia ægrotis damus!
Tu si hic sis, aliter sentias.—
Ter. Παντες γαρ εσμεν εις το νουθετειν σοφοι,
Αυτοι δ' αμαρτανοντες ου γιγνωσκομεν.
Eurip. αλλω πονουντι ραδιον παραινεσαι.
Εστιν, ποιησαι δ' αυτον ουχι ραδιον.
Philem. Ελαφρον, οσις πηματων εξω ποδα
Εχει, παραινειν, νουθετειν τε, τους κακως
Πρασσοντας.—
Æschyl.

I should be thought, perhaps, too partial an Advocate for Shakespear's Learning, if I should assert that he had dealt with every One of these Authors: But if I have Reason to affirm that he had read, and understood, the last Quotation, That alone is sufficient to prove the Point in Debate, and discover Shakespear to be a better Scholar, than his Countrymen yet have been willing to acknowledge Him.

I must beg Leave, without the Imputation of Pedantry, to make good my Opinion by examining the Sentiment, and Terms of our Poet with Those of the Greek One. 'Tis all Men's Office to speak Patience, says Our Poet; meaning, not that it is the Duty of all Men, but a Task that all Men have in their Power, and are capable of: And what does he but paraphrase upon the very Expression of Æschylus? ελαφρον παραινειν, it is an easy, a light Task to exhort and comfort: Men can counsel, and give Comfort, says our Poet: Is not This the very Explication of παραινειν νουθετειν τε, in the Old Tragedian? And when Shakespear uses the Words, wring, and not feel, is it not plain to Demonstration that he borrows the very Image of Æschylus, πηματων εξω ποδα εχει, which signifies no more than that the Person is not wrung, or, as we express it more jocularly, is not in the Shoemaker's Stocks. But it is further observable, in Praise of Shakespear's Judgment where he pleases to employ it, that He was not content to express at large the Vulgar Idea of a Shoe pinching, but chose rather to touch that slightly, and build a Nobler Image upon the Proverbial Expression which he borrowed.

If I have yet advanc'd any thing Satisfactory upon the Question contested, I doubt not, in spending a Page or two upon his Timon, to set the Matter in a clearer Light. The Fable of Timon is plainly built upon the Plan of Lucian, who, as our Author does, has describ'd him at first rich, undone by an after indiscreet Liberality, made rich again, again pursued by Flatterers, of whom he speaks in much the same Forms of Contempt, as Shakespear has made him. Shakespear too has dress'd him, in his Picture of his Poverty, in the same Garb as his Master Lucian has done upon Jupiter's View of him at Labour in the Field. When Timon digs, and finds the Gold, he expresses himself just in the same Manner;

Says Lucian,

Α'λλα μεν χρυσιον εσιν επισημον, υπερυθρον, βαρυ, και την προσοψιν υπερηδισον.

Says Shakespear,

—What is here,
Gold, yellow, glittering, precious Gold!

Thus far, and in many more Particulars that I shall omit, he seems intirely indebted to Lucian; but it is evident likewise that he had read Plutarch, by the Introduction of the Characters of Alcibiades, and Apemantus. These came luckily enough for the Poet as Contemporaries, to give the greater Variety to his Fable: And Shakespear has made them observe the same Manners which the Historian gives Them. Plutarch says, that Timon sometimes received Apemantus at his Table, as a Mimick of himself; and has received a particular Sarcasm of Timon's upon him, which the Poet has taken care to translate. The Foundation of Shakespear's making Timon courteous to Alcibiades, is, from the same Author, and on the same Principle of his Hatred to a corrupt People, Whom, as Plutarch makes Timon say, he foresaw Alcibiades would be a Plague to, and do his best to destroy. Nay, there is one Speech of Timon's Resentment to his Countrymen before his Death, which Shakespear has translated almost to a Word from Plutarch.

I have a Tree which grows here in my Close,
That my own Use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it: Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the Frequence of Degree,
From high to low throughout, that whoso pleases
To stop Affliction, let him take his Haste,
Come hither e'er my Tree has felt the Axe,
And hang himself.

To obviate the Objection, that Shakespear had no Need to go back to the Original for his Instructions in this Author, I am not to learn that a Latin Translation was publish'd at Basil above 50 Years before our Poet was born. (Whether any other Versions of Him were extant at that Time, is more than 1 at present remember.) I have This to offer in Support of my Opinion, that our Poet used Plutarch's Greek, and not his Translator. In this Historian's Life of M. Anthony we have the Circumstance and Scituation of Timon's

Grave describ'd, and the Epitaphs upon him, the first of which we are told to have been Timon's own Composition, and the Latter was made by Callimachus, and is in his present Set of Epigrams. I must subjoin these Verses, to shew how well Shakespear has translated 'em, and avoided an Error, which he must have been led into, had he trusted to the Latin Version.

ενθαδ' απορρηξας ψυχην βαρυδαιμονα κειμαι.
Τουνομα δ' ου παυσεσθε, κακοι δε κακως απολοι θε.
Τιμων μισαν θρωπος εσοικεω· αλλα παρελθε,
Ο'ιμωζειν ειπας πολλα, παρελθε μονον.

Both which our Poet has thus render'd in his Play,

Here lies a Wretched Coarse, of wretched Life bereft,
Seek not my Name; A Plague consume you, Caitiffs left:
Here ly I Timon, who all living Men did hate;
Pass by, and curse thy Fill: but stay not here thy Gate.

Now the Latin Translator, Leonard Aretine, in the Epigram of Callimachus, has made no less than two Blunders: This is his Versification,

Hic osor jaceo Timon hominumq;, de ûmq;,
Huc ades, & maledic; hucee, Viator, ades.

For in the first Line the Greek lends no Authority for making Timon a Hater of the Gods; and in the Second, there is no Invitation for Passengers to approach his Tomb; but, on the contrary, an express Order for them to go on, and curse in Abundance.

I begin to fear least the Number of Quotations in this Essay should give it an Air rather of Ostentation than Proof; and if I were to go thro' with examining those other Plays, whose Fables are borrow'd from Antiquity, it would swell this Preface to a Bulk inconsistent with the Work to which it is prefix'd. The Troilus and Cressida is the only Play, except Timon, for which Shakespear is indebted to the Greek Story: And He has Three, viz. Coriolanus, Julius Cæsar, and Anthony and Cleopatra, which are founded on Roman History. I could, with the greatest Ease imaginable, produce above 500 Passages from these Plays to evidence his Intimacy with the Latin Classicks: And an impartial Scholar, will, with little Labour, he convinc'd of his deeper Reading, by tracing whole Speeches, and particular Facts, in his Julius Cæsar from Appian and Dion Cassius. Our late Laureat, and some Others before him, have seem'd to be of Opinion that our Poet [illeg.]ok his Troilus and Cressida from Lollius and Chaucer, who

borrow'd his Argument from the Lombard. But the Incidents and Characters of these Poems are so few, their Arguments so narrow, and confin'd, in Comparison to that Scope which our Poet takes, that I dare be positive he a'rew out his Scheme, and modell'd it, from Homer himself. There lies a fair Appeal, on this Head, to his Character of Thersites, the Importance of Antenor to the Trojans, the Challenge of Hector to the Grecian Camp, the Death of Patroclus, and a Multitude more of Instances, which, like Witnesses in a Cause, might be brought to corroborate a single Fact by Variety of concurring Circumstances.

But I am making a Dissertation of what I design'd but an Essay; and have still One part of my Preface untouch'd, upon the Necessity of supporting two Companies of Actors, if the Town would consult their publick Diversions. I have sketch'd out a Method for some abler Pen, at a greater Extent, to vindicate our Author's Acquaintance with the Antients: and shall conclude on that Subject with saying, There is a Party insists that He was but a small Proficient in Letters; but Shakespear himself, if his Remains may be admitted as Testimony, vouches for his better Knowledge of the Classicks; unprejudic'd Judges must decide upon the Question:—Utri creditis, Quirites?

§ II. The Theatre consider'd as a publick Diversion, and of publick Use, justly deserves that Esteem, which all polite Nations have ever bestowed on It. The Greeks, who were the First that brought it into any tolerable Form, made it a part of their Religion; had as many formal Officers to preside over, direct, and regulate the Stage, as we have in the Course of any of our common and distinct Courts of Justice. Their Theatres were not, like Ours, dependant on the good Will, Caprice, or Vanity of particular Persons; but establish'd by Law, directed by Law, and all their Concerns, the Concern of the Civil Magistrate. These Wise People, knowing the Influence that such Representations must have over the Generality of the People, by well adapting an antient Fact in Story to the Circumstance of their Time, have often gain'd a Battle (if I may be allow'd the Expression,) before they fought it, rais'd Taxes at a Juncture of general Complaints, and built Temples, from the Sense of a Theatrical Audience, when Civil Policy could not prevail. Thus it must ever be, when Wise Men, the first in State, as well as Esteem, are at the Head of Scenical Entertainments. Philosophers and Magistrates were seen in the foremost Seats of their Plays; and as all Scandal and Vice were check'd by their Presence, so all Virtue of Course was incourag'd, and if they had no Other Pleasure, the Audience departed at least with the Satisfaction of having been in good Company.

The Number of the Theatres at Athens seems at this Distance of Time to be very uncertain: yet it is plain that they exceeded That of Ours. They were capable of receiving Ten times the Company; and, as far as can be gather'd from History, were always full. The Romans, who did every Thing after the Grecian Model with Improvement, both encreas'd the Number, and inlarg'd the Compass of their Theatres. and that to such a Degree, as, to speak in the Words of an excellent Modern Poet, One of their Playhouses was of an Extent,

To hold uncrouded Nations in its Womb.
Addis.

Generals, Magistrates, nay, even private Persons built Stages, and maintain'd Companies of Actors: And, it is plain, it has been familiar even with Us in England, from the Power that every Branch of the Royal Family, and every Nobleman, have (and formerly often exercis'd,) of granting Licenses to a particular Company of Comedians under their Name. How this most reasonable Fashion came to Decay, seems doubtful, unless we will say that Names and Politicks have for the last Age and half eat out good Sense; and grave Outward Pretenses, and an Attention to real private Interest taken off our Appetites to Publick Diversion.

We are a greater, and more flourishing People than either the Greeks, or Romans; and, as some say, more by Genius inclin'd to Theatrical Representations. Why then has not this Inclination it's Effect? Why cannot we support Two Theatres in our Metropolis, as well as They could Twenty in Either of Theirs? But the general Cry is, that the Town is justly entertain'd but at One Theatre, and thither All flock by Consent to see, and be seen. Can we think it was ever an Objection at Rome, that a few Principal Parts were acted better at Pompey's Theatre, than at Lucullus's; or, perhaps, better at Cæsar's Theatre, than Both? No, no; Encouragements were given to All, with the generous Thought, that He, who did not excell This Year, might the Next; and He, who did excell This Year, the Next might be no more. Tho' then they had their Favourite Actors, yet they were no longer so, than they perform'd well, did the Business of the State as well as of the Stage, and were under that Regulation of Behaviour, which common Decency, and their peculiar Laws requir'd. When a Player was silenc'd with Them, he was

silenc'd for ever. No Retractations, no Appeals could be from a Virtuous People generously resenting a particular Assurance. Affronts to Noble Personages then, whether design'd, light, or rash, were consider'd as the Concerns of the State: and a Roman Audience would sooner have call'd for a Ropedancer, or an Elephant, than an Actor suffering under his own Indiscretion.

This I only intend as a backward View of what has been, what may be, is in the Breast of the proper Judges: but, surely, 'tis very hard that a Company endeavouring to please, risquing their Lives, Fortunes, and Reputations on that Bottom, should thro' unhappy Prejudices never get the better of Partiality, I dare not say, ill Judgment. There have been before now accidental Separations of the Companies; and both Parties have stood it well in the Eye of the Town: But never, till of late, did it appear, that a Fondness to One or Two private Persons, personating publick Characters, should lead the Town after Them whereever they pleas'd.

To reason a little upon this Subject; There is as absolute a Necessity for keeping Two Companies, even under Disadvantages, as there is for a Gard'ner, who has a handsome Plantation, to keep a Nursery, As it would be Madness in Him to cut down his Young Trees, because he has Older; so it seems equal Folly to destroy the growing Hopes of a Young Company, because you may lodge a Summer or Two under the Shade of the Elder. To go on with the Metaphor, Transplantation has been found to be very necessary; otherwise Both Groves might have flourish'd with equal Beauty, and Encrease.

If Two Houses are not encourag'd, what must be the Consequence? The Town, Authors, and Actors, will All suffer by it. The Town will have every Thing palm'd upon them, good or bad, at the Humour, or pretended Judgment, of the principal Actors. The brightest Performance, if not forc'd upon the Stage by a high Hand, or creeping to it with a servile Submission, may be neglected, lost, or what is worse, the Writer abus'd, and his Reputation, as Such, lost, before he has tried it. Thus no New Plays may happen to be receiv'd, but what are bad: and the Town, of course, contented to take up with the Repetition of a narrow Catalogue of Plays in the House's Stock. Upon the same Foot, Actors must expect to be retrench'd in their Salaries; and, which is more grating, depress'd in their Merit. For Players, as has been observed by Many before Me, cannot shine at once but by New Principal Parts; and All, who have ever made any Figure in the Business, have work'd up by these Means to the Height of their Profession. Kindness, and good Opinion naturally follow Endeavours to excell; This, as it daily encreases, gives both Pleasure to the Audience, and Spirit to the Player. His Fears wear away, as their Approbation

heightens, and his Ambition rises with their Hopes. But in One Company This can never be obtain'd; Oppression, so natural to Power, the Fear of being eclips'd, which always carries strong Jealousies with It, will both contribute largely to suppress a Rival, in the Favours of the Town. To give an Instance, or two: Had it not been for the Division of the Companies, the Town might never have seen Mr. Ryan in the beautiful Lights, in which it has since admir'd Him. They lik'd him in the First Characters of Old Plays, and so were prepar'd to receive him better in any good New One: where He could have no Pattern before his Eye to act by Imitation. If he charm'd as Howard in Sir Walter Raleigh, he certainly exceeded in the Character of Richard in the following Scenes: and These, I think, will be allow'd to be as distinct and different Parts as any One Man could excell in. The Same must be said of Mr. Boheme, who, if he had never play'd Cobham, might have rais'd no Hopes in the Company, that he could shine in the Person of York. Fear, and Horror, One would imagine to be very different from the Character of a grave Statesman, a just Magistrate, and a tender Father; and yet One Person perform'd Both with a just Applause. This gives an Evidence, that while the Companies are divided, the Necessity of Things puts the Managers upon searching into the Merit of People's Talents, and shewing Them to the best Advantage: an Effect not to be expected, where an Idolatry to particular Persons is constantly paid, and to have excell'd in One Thing makes an Excellence in All.

A little Favour might give greater Hopes, and encourage more Persons to exert themselves, and Others of great Abilities to enter into a Company; where, if there be not the strongest View, at present, of flourishing, there is, at least, of being well receiv'd and cherish'd. Put to play in Misery is breaking the Spirit of an Actor, and bidding him do That, which Humanity never expected, and Tyranny never commanded in any parallel Circumstance of Life. If this Representation of the State of the Stage will not do any Good, I can only say I have perform'd what seems to be just, fair, and impartial; and shall be unconcern'd at any Exceptions to a Design that carries with It Nothing but the Common Good, and Improvement of the Pleasure of the Town.