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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,

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HENRY V,

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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?
Boats. Do you not hear him?

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!
[Exeunt.

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us
assist them,

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|
lie drowning

The washing of ten tides!
Gon.
He'll be hanged yet;
Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at wid'st to glut him.

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And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?

Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: but how
is it,

[A confused noise within.] Mercy on us!-We
split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!-
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split. In the dark backward and abysm of time?
Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Exit. If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
Seb. Let's take leave of him.
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
Mira.

[Exit.

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of
sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown
furze, any thing: the wills above be done! but I
would fain die a dry death.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The island: before the cell of PROS-
PERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.
Pro.
Be collected;
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

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But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since,
Miranda, twelve years since, thy father was
The duke of Milan, and a prince of power.
Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said-thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess;-no worse issued.

Mira.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?

Pro.
Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;
But blessedly holp hither.

Mira.
O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you fur-
ther.

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,-
I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should
Be so perfidious!-he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
No harm. Through all the signiories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Then Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira.

More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro.
"Tis time
I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.-So;
[Lays down his mantle.
Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have
comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as a hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel

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To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd an evil nature: and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood, in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one
Who, having unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition
Growing,-Dost hear?

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
Absolute Milan: Me, poor man!-my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd (alas, poor Milan!)
To most ignoble stooping.
Mira.

O the heavens!

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Now I arise:

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time

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.
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pro.
Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises,-
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,-
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honors, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.

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

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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.
Know thus far forth.-
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop.-Here cease more ques-
tions;

Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.-
[MIRANDA sleeps.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come.

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Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes2, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labor,
I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote"
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o' the day?

Ari.

Past the mid season.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six

and now,

Must by us both be spent most preciously.

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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,
As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy

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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,

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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,

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