ments, however, are incorporated in the editions of 1793 and 1803, by Mr. Steevens. Mr. Malone says, that "from the year 1716 to the date of his edition in 1790,—that is, in seventy-four years, above 30,000 copies of Shakspeare have been dispersed through England." Among the honors paid to his genius, we ought not to forget the very magnificent edition undertaken by Messrs. Boydell. Still less ought it to be forgotten how much the reputation of Shakspeare was revived by the unrivalled excellence of Garrick's performance. His share in directing the public taste towards the study of Shakspeare was, perhaps, greater than that of any individual in his time, and such was his zeal, and such his success, in this laudable attempt, that he may readily be forgiven the foolish mummery of the Stratford Jubilee. When public opinion had begun to assign to Shakspeare the very high rank he was destined to hold, he became the promising object of fraud and imposture. This, we have already observed, he did not wholly escape in his own time, and he had the spirit or policy to despise it.' It was reserved for modern impostors, however, to avail themselves of the obscurity in which his history is involved. In 1751, a book was published, entitled, "A Compendious or briefe examination of certayne ordinary Complaints of diuers of our Countrymen in those our days: which, although they are in some Parte unjust and frivolous, yet are they all by way of dialogue thoroughly debated and discussed by William Shakespeare, Gentleman." This had been originally published in 1581; but Dr. Farmer has clearly proved that W. S., gent., the only authority for attributing it to Shakspeare in the reprinted edition, meant William Stafford, gent. Theobald, the same accurate critic informs us, was desirous of palming upon the world a play called “Double Falsehood," for a posthumous one of Shakspeare. In 1770, was reprinted at Feversham, an old play called "The Tragedy of Arden of Feversham and Black Will," with a preface attributing it to Shakspeare, without the smallest foundation. But these were trifles compared to the atrocious attempt made in 1795-6, when, besides a vast mass of prose and verse, letters, &c., pretendedly in the handwriting of Shakspeare and his correspondents, an entire play, entitled Vortigern, was not only brought forward for the astonishment of the admirers of Shakspeare, but actually performed on Drury Lane stage. It would be unnecessary to expatiate on the merits of this play, which Mr. Steevens has very happily characterized as "the performance of a madman without a lucid interval," or to enter more at large into the nature of a fraud so recent, and so soon acknowledged by the authors of it. It produced, however, an interesting controversy between Mr. Malone and Mr. George Chalmers, which, although mixed with some unpleasant asperities, was extended to inquiries into the history and antiquities of the stage, from which future critics and historians may derive considerable information. 1 Mr. Malone has given a list of fourteen plays ascribed to Shakspeare, either by the editors of the two later folios, or by the compilers of ancient catalogues. Of these Pericles has found advocates for its admission into his works. CONTENTS. SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF SHAKSPEARE, Page iii | HENRY IV-PART SECOND, 401 HENRY V, Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-sail; Tend to the master's whistle.-Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough! Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.— Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him: his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he Re-enter Boatswain. [Exeunt. Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. [A cry Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the within.] A plague upon this howling! they are master? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. Ant. Where is the master, boatswain? You mar our labor! keep your cabins: you do assist the storm. Gon. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabins: silence: trouble us not. Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself.1 Readily. louder than the weather, or our office. Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Seb. A pox o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. 2 Present instant. Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstaunched' wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off. Enter Mariners, wet. Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! Boats. What, must our mouths be cold? For our case is as theirs. Seb. I am out of patience. Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chapped rascal;-'Would thou mightst| The washing of ten tides! And rather like a dream than an assurance Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: but how [A confused noise within.] Mercy on us!-We [Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of SCENE II.-The island: before the cell of PROS- But that I do not. Pro. Twelve years since, Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and Mira. Pro. Mira. Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,- I have done nothing but in care of thee, Mira. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd To closeness, and the bettering of my mind Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd And him he play'd it for, he needs will be O the heavens! Now I arise: Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. tell me, If this might be a brother. I should sin Mira. Pro. Mira. Alack, for pity! 1, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, Will cry it o'er again, it is a hint, That wrings mine eyes. Pro. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now I pray you, sir, (For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason For raising this sea-storm? Pro. A most auspicious star; whose influence Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, Pro. Ari. Past the mid season. Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six and now, Must by us both be spent most preciously. speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro. O, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did, They would not take her life: Is not this true? Ari. Ay, sir. Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave, Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in: thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo; it was mine art, When I arriv'd, and heard thec, that made gape The pine, and let thee out. Ari. I thank thee, master. Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. Pardon, master: Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give I will be correspondent to command, And do my spriting gently. Pro. I will discharge thee. Do so; and after two days Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say, what? what shall I do? Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Go take this shape, And hither come in't: hence, with diligence. [Exit ARIEL. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake! Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me. Pro. Shake it off: Come on, We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Yields us kind answer. Mira. I do not love to look on. Pro. "Tis a villain, sir, But, as 'tis, |