ZS5Z 
 
 a 
 
 A = 
 
 ■^ ^ 
 
 
 — o 
 
 A = 
 
 ^^^^ :LC 
 
 — 
 
 1 
 
 = 
 
 ^=^ 33 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 3 W: 
 
 r^ 
 
 6 = 
 
 
 9 m 
 
 m 
 
 o ^= 
 
 
 d = 
 
 ^^ ^ 
 
 2 ^ 
 
 
 6 m 
 
 1 
 
 ^■H 
 
 
 6 ~ 
 
 
 Potts 
 
 Notes on Shakspeare's Plays
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 
 
 i;y 
 
 HHNRY J. POTTS. 
 
 gijinningham : 
 
 PROVKRBS, Lady WOOD steam printing works, ledsam stbekt. 
 
 1879. 
 
 
 PRICE SIXPENCE-
 
 I
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY J. POTTS. 
 
 W. G. PROVERBS, LADTWOOD STEAM PRINTING WORKS, LEDSAM STREET. 
 
 1879.
 
 pa 
 
 PREFACE. P^'^r, 
 
 'yXcS there is sucli a revival of Sliakspearean literature 
 '-^cklP at the present day, I Imve often thought it would 
 supply a great need if someone, who takes an in- 
 terest in the Drama, would give to the public periodically, in 
 a cheap form, so far as can be obtained, those old plays, 
 novels, and tales, upon which Shakspeare founded most of his 
 writings. Such a publication would give to the reader a very 
 accurate idea of the value of Shakspeare's Works, as com- 
 pared with those plays, (fee, which he made so remarkable 
 a use. In this treatise, I have only been able to glance at 
 the subject ; but so far as I have gone, T hope as a hand-book 
 this may be acceptable to all lovers of the Shakspearean 
 drama, 
 
 H. J. Potts. 
 
 9ssfyf f >
 
 Notes on Shakspeai\e's Plays. 
 
 ^jD E VIEWING tlie literature prior to and contempoi'ary witli 
 r-J^X Shakspeare, in writing his dramas, there can be little doubt 
 ^ but what he borrowed largely from every source, or in 
 
 other words, he gathered ideas and suggestions from works for 
 numerous scenes which appear in his plays ; that thei'e is a great 
 tendency in us all to exalt Shakspeare, and decry and underrate 
 the merits of those writers who lived with and before his time. 
 To accept all Shakspeare has wiitten in the dramatic world as 
 being purely original and never having been hinted at before, is a 
 mistake ; when at the same time we must remember he was 
 beholden to writers of nearly every age and country. Certainly we 
 have our national character for literature to maintain, and as a 
 specimen we cannot jioint to any of the Elizabethian dramatists, 
 except Shaksepare, although they all contributed, more or less, 
 their mite, in creating the English drama. Looking at the general 
 excellence, however, that dwell in his plays, lie is the only deserv- 
 ing genius of whom we can load with honours, and safely and with 
 credit to ourselves, build up our literary reputation. I for one 
 admire and look upon Shakspeare as the greatest wi-iter that ever 
 lived ; but in reading his i)lays there are scenes and ideas which 
 strike me as either being borrowed, or which may have furnished 
 our author with hints for characters and incidents in many of his 
 plays. I will endeavour to point some of these out. Take Homer's 
 scenes, for instance ; in his Iliad, translated by Chapman, in which 
 Shakspeare, not being either Greek or Latin scholar* sufiiciently, 
 would most likely make use of this translation, and we shall be 
 imjoressed with the likeness one scene bears to another. I hope I 
 shall be clearly understood, as I am not comparing the works or 
 genius of any other writer with that of Shakspeare, for he, far 
 above all others, created for himself a world of his own, and 
 peopled it with beings, the most varied and delightful the mind of 
 man can conceive. This cannot be said of any other writer what- 
 ever, except Homer, who is considered approaching nearest to 
 
 "According to Ben Jonson, ShaLspeaie knew little of Latin, and less of Greek.
 
 Shakspeare for his creative and inventive power. In proceeding 
 with this little work, I will draw attention in the first place, and 
 will ask the reader to compare the scene of Eichard Ill's dream 
 in his tent before the battle, with Chapman's translation of the 
 Iliad, book 2, page 29 and 30, and I here ask whether this little 
 incident in Homer may not have suggested to our anthor the idea 
 for the scene in Richard III 1 I allude to Jupiter and Agamemnon's 
 dream. In this there appears to me a great similitude ; it is as 
 follows : — 
 
 The other Gods, and knights at arms, all night slept ; only Jove 
 
 Sweet slumber seiz'd not ; he discours'd how best he might appi-ove 
 
 His vow made for Achilles' grace, and make the Grecians find 
 
 His miss in much death. All ways cast, this counsel serv'd his mind 
 
 With most allowance ; to despatch a harmful Dream to greet 
 
 Thf. king of men, and gave this charge : " Go to the Achive fleet, 
 
 Pernicious Dream, and, being arriv d in Agamemnon's tent, 
 
 Deliver truly all this charge. Command him to convent 
 
 His whole host arm'd before these tow'rs ; for now Troy's broad-way'd town 
 
 He shall take in ; the heav'n-hous'd Gods are now indiffrent grown : 
 
 Juno's request hath won them ; Troy now under imminent ills 
 
 At all parts labours." This charge heard, the Vision straight fulfils ; 
 
 The ships reach'd ; and Atrides' tent, in which he found him laid, 
 
 Divine sleep pour'd about his powers. He stood above his head 
 
 Like Nestor, grac'd of old men most, and this did intimate : 
 
 " Sleeps the wise Atreus' tame-horse son ? A councillor of state 
 Must not the whole night spend in sleep, to whom the people are 
 For guard committed, and whose life stands bound to so much care. 
 Now hear me, then, Jove's messenger, who, though far off from thee, 
 Is near thee yet in ruth and care, and gives command by me 
 To arm thy whole host. Thy strong hand the broad-way'd town of Troy 
 Shall now take in ; no more the Gods dissentiously employ 
 Their high-hous'd powers ; Juno's suit hath won them all to her ; 
 And ill fates overhang these tow'rs, address'd by Jupiter. 
 Fix in thy mind this, nor forget to give it action, when 
 Sweet sleep chall leave thee." Thus, he fled ; and left the king of men 
 Repeating in discourse his dream, and dreaming still, awake. 
 Of pow'r, not ready yet for act. fool, he thought to take 
 In that next day old Priam's town ; not knowing what afi"airs 
 Jove had in purpose, who prepar'd, by strong fight, sighs and cares 
 For Greeks and Trojans. The Dream gone, his voice still murmured 
 About the king's ears ; who sate up, put on him in his bed 
 His silken inner weed, fair, new ; and then in haste arose. 
 Cast on his ample mantle, tied to his soft feet fair shoes. 
 His silver-hilted sword he hung about his shoulders, took 
 His father's sceptre never stain'd, which then abroad he shook. 
 And went to fleet. And now great heav'n Goddess Aurora scal'd. 
 To Jove, and all Gods, bringing light ; when Agamemnon call'd 
 His heralds, charging them aloud to call to instant court 
 The thick-hair'd Greeks. The heralds call'd ; the Greeks made quick resort.
 
 The Council chiefly he compos'd of old great-minrled men, 
 
 At Nestor's ships, the Pyliau king. All there assembled then, 
 
 Thus Atreus' son began the court : " Hear, friends : A Dream divine, 
 
 Amidst the calm night in my sleep, did through my shut eyes shine, 
 
 Within my fantasy. His form did passing naturallj' 
 
 Resemble Nestor ; such attire, a stature just as high. 
 
 He stood above my head, and words thus fashion'd did relate : 
 
 ' Sleeps the ^vise Atreus' tame-horse son ? A councillor of state 
 Must not the whole night spend in sleep, to whom the people are 
 For guard committed, and whose life stands bound to so much care. 
 Now hear me, then, Jove's messenger, who, though far ofif from thee, 
 Is near thee yet in love and care, and gives command by me 
 To arm thy whole host. Thy strong hand the broad-way'd town of Troy 
 Shall now take in ; no more the Gods dissentiously employ 
 Their high-hous'd pow'rs ; Saturnia's suit hath won them all to her ; 
 And ill fates over-hang these tow'rs, address'd by Jupiter. 
 Fix in thy mind this.' This express'd, he took wing and away, 
 And sweet sleep left me. Let us then by all our means assay 
 To arm our army ; I will first (as far as fits our right) 
 Try their addictions, and command with full-sailed ships our flight ; 
 Which if they yield to, oppose you." He sate, and up arose 
 Nestor, of sandy Pylos king, who, willing to dispose 
 Their counsel to the public good, propos'd this to the state : 
 
 '' Princes and Councillors of Greece, if any should relate 
 This vision but the king himself, it might be held a tale, 
 And mo\'e the rather our retreat ; but since our General 
 Affirms he saw it, hold it true, and all our best means make 
 To arm our army." Thi.^ speech us'd, he first the Council brake. 
 
 Again, the Ghost Scene in Hamlet, compare the 23rd book of tlie Iliad, 
 page 224, 225, and 226, Chapman's translations to it. Anyone reading this 
 narrative could scarcely fail to be impressed with some likeness there exists 
 between the two ideas. I allude to the scene of Achilles and the ghost of 
 Patroclus, on the sea shore, where he demands and imposes upon his friend 
 the rites of the burial of his body. After the funeral pyre had been prepared 
 for the burning of Patroclus' body, they all retire to rest ; Achilles goes to sleep 
 on the sea shore. There is not the depth of treachery and revenge in this 
 book as in Hamlet, although there is treachery and revenge, nevertheless. 
 From the very moment the ghost of Patroclus appears to Achilles, and in- 
 forms him of the manner of his death, he burns with fiercest anger to avenge 
 the death of his friend upon Hector. This scene, partly a dream and partly a 
 vision, to say the least, may have suggested the idea for the ghost scene in 
 Hamlet, as follows : — 
 
 The friend the shores maritimal 
 Sought for his bed, and found a place, fair, and upon which play'd 
 The inurmuring billows. There his limbs to rest, not sleep, ho laid, 
 Heavily sighing. Round about, i^ilent and not too near, 
 Stood all liis Myrmidons ; when straight, so over-labour'd were 
 His goodly lineaments with chase of Hector, that, beyond 
 His re.solution not to sleep, Sleep cast his sudden bond 
 Over his sense, and loos'd his care. Then of his wretched friend 
 The Soul appear'd ; at ev'ry part the form did comprehend
 
 HU likeness ; his fair eye?, his voice, liis stiture, ev'ry weed 
 
 His psi-son wore, it fantasied ; and stood above his hsad, 
 
 This sad speech utt'rin^ : " Dost thoa sleep ? .E.icides, am I 
 
 Forgotten of thes ? Being alive, I found thy memory 
 
 Ever respectful ; but now, dead, thy dying love abates. 
 
 Inter me quickly, enter me in Pluto's iron gates. 
 
 For now the souls (the shades) of men, fled from this being, beat 
 
 My spirit from rest, and stay my much-desired receipt 
 
 Among souls plac'd beyond the flood. Now ev'ry way I err 
 
 About this broad-door'd house of Dis. help then to prefer 
 
 My soul yet further ! Here I mourn, but, had the fun'ral fire 
 
 Consum'd my body, never more my spirit should retire 
 
 From hell's low region ; from thence souls never are retriev'd 
 
 To talk with friends here ; nor shall I ; a hateful fate depriv'd 
 
 My being here, that at my birth was fix'd ; and to such fate 
 
 Ev'n thou, God-like man, art mark'd ; the deadly Ilion gate 
 
 Must entertain thy death. then, I charge thee now, take care 
 
 That our bones part not ; but as life combined in equal fare 
 
 Our loving beings, so let death. When from Opunta's tow'rs 
 
 My father brought me to your roofs (since, 'gainst my will, my pow'rs 
 
 Incens'd, and indiscreet at dice, slew fair Amphidamas) 
 
 Then Peleus entertain'd me well ; then in thy charge I was 
 
 By his injunction and thy love ; and therein let me still 
 
 Receive protection. Both our bones, provide in thy last will. 
 
 That one urn may contain ; and make that vessel all of gold, 
 
 That Thetis gave thee, that rich urn." This said. Sleep ceas'd to hold 
 
 Achilles' temples, and the Shade he thus received : " friend, 
 
 Wliat needed these commands ? .Vly care, before, meant to commend 
 
 My bones to thine, and in that urn. Be sure thy will be done. 
 
 A little stay yet, let's delieht, with some full passion 
 
 Of woe enough, either's affects ; embrace we." Op'ning thus 
 
 Hi.s greedy arms, he felt no friend ; like matter vaporous 
 
 The Spirit vanish'd under earth, and murmur'd in his stoop. 
 
 Achilles started, both his hands he clapp'd, and lifted up. 
 
 In this sort wond'ring : " ye Gods, I see we have a soul 
 
 In th' under-dwellings, and a kind of man-resemljliug idol ; 
 
 The soul's seat yet, all matter felt, stays with the carcass here. 
 
 friends, hapless Patroclus' soul did all tliis night appear 
 
 Wesping and making moan to m-=^, commanding ev'rything 
 
 That I intended towards him ; so truly figuring 
 
 Him.self at all parts, as was strange." This accident did turn 
 
 To much more sorrow, and begat a greediness to mourn 
 
 In all tliat heard. Wlien mourning thus, the rosy Morn arose, 
 
 And Agamemnon through the tents wak'd all. and did dispose 
 
 Both men and mules for carriage of matter for the fire. 
 
 Kj-d's Spanish Tragedy, entitled " Hieronimo is mad ag;nn," is considered 
 by some to have furnished Shvkspeare with hint'* for the ghnst scene in Hamlet, 
 an I also the idea of Hamlet's revenge for the death of his father. In this play 
 there is a ghost scene, and Revenge appears on the stage with the ghost as a 
 real person. According to som3 allusion made by Ben Jonson in his poetaster, 
 the play must have bsen written about 1590. If this supposition be accepted,
 
 we see how easy a thing it was for Shakspeare to embody the thoughts of 
 others, and from them draw such profound dramatic characters. 
 
 The next thing we will refer to is in the Midsummer Night's Dream, act 
 3, scene 2, where Lysander and Demetrius quarrel. Puck enters invisible, 
 and by the intervention of a night's thick cloud, the combatants cease their 
 quarrel. Compare this incident to the 20th book of the Iliad, Chapman's trans- 
 lation, page 18-4 and 185, where Achilles and Hector combat together, but 
 Apollo enters invisible, and, in the heat of the conflict, envelopes Hector with 
 a thick mist, which he causes to conceal from view, so that by this artifice 
 he gets away unscathed from his opponent. It is as follows : — 
 
 When Hector had beheld 
 His brother tumbled so to earth, his entrails still in hand. 
 Dark sorrow overcast his eyes ; nor far off could he stand 
 A minute longer, but like fire he brake out of the throng. 
 Shook his long lance at Thetis' son ; and then he came along 
 To feed th' encounter : " 0," said he, " here comes the man that most 
 Of all the world destroys my mind, the man by whom I lost 
 My dear Patroclus. Now not long the crooked paths of war 
 Can yield us any privy scapes. ' Come, keep not ofl" so far,' 
 He cried to Hector, ' make the pain of thy sure death as short 
 As one so desp'rate of his life hath reason.' " In no sort 
 This frighted Hector, who bore close, and said : " ..Eacides, 
 Leave threats for children. I have pow'r to thunder calumnies 
 As well as others, and well know thy strength superior far 
 To that my nerves hold ; but the Gods, not nerves, determine war. 
 And yet, for nerves, there will be found a strength of pow'r in mine 
 To drive a lance home to thy life. My lance as well as thine 
 Hath point and sharjjness, and 'tis this." Thus brandishing his spear, 
 He set it flying ; which a breath of Pallas back did bear 
 From Thetis' sou to Hector's self, and at his feet it fell. 
 Achilles us'd no dart, but close flew in ; and thought to deal 
 With no strokes but of sure despatch, but, what with all his blood 
 He labour'd, Phoebus clear 'd with ease, as being a God, and stood 
 For Hector's guard, as Pallas did, .^acides, for thine. 
 He rapt him from him, and a cloud of much night cast between 
 His person and the point oppos'd. Achilles then exclaim'd : 
 " see, yet more Gods are at work. Apollo's hand hath fram'd, 
 Dog that thou art, thy rescue now ; to whom go pay the vows 
 Thy safety owes him, I shall vent in time those fatal blows 
 That yet beat in my heart on thine, if any God remain 
 My equal fautor. In mean time, my anger must maintain 
 His fire on other Ilians." 
 
 Again, compare the incident in the 21st book of the Iliad, page 206, with 
 the same scene in Midsummer Night's Dream, as folLnvs : — 
 
 And then .^acides assail'd 
 Divine Agenor ; but in vain, Apollo's pow'r prevail'd, 
 And rapt Agenor from his reach ; whom quietly he plac'd 
 Without the skirmish, casting mists to save from being chas'd 
 His tender'd person ; and (he gone) to give his soldiers 'scape, 
 The Deity turn'd Achilles still, by putting on the shape 
 Of him he thirsted ; evermore he fed his eye, and fled,
 
 10 
 
 And he -with all hia knees pursu'd. So cunningly he led, 
 
 That still he would be near his reach, to draw his rage, with hope, 
 
 Far from the conflict. 
 
 There remains no doubt that Chapman's translation of these scenes sug- 
 gested to Shakspeare the one in Midsummer Night's Dream. Call Puck 
 Apollo, and I should like to know where the difference of the scenes consist. 
 There is also a similar idea in the 3rd book, page 75, where Venus conceals 
 I'aris, in a cloud of gt)ld, from a combat in which he and Menelaus were 
 engaged. There are but few people, perhaps, who will find the same pleasure 
 in reading these scenes from Chapman as in some of onr more modern transla- 
 tions, his style being very antiquated. Pope, for instance, has rendered the 
 whole of the Iliad very grandly, and I should recommend every one who has 
 not done so to read his translation of the same. 
 
 Compare the latter portion of Dido, Queen of Carthage, with some of the 
 scenes in Midsummer Night's Dream. Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and 
 Helena, put us in mind, I think, of Marlowe's ^Eneas, Dido, larbas, and Anna, 
 in their crossed loves in their devotion to those they love, and also the scorn 
 and contempt for those they dislike. For instance, larbas is in love with Dido, 
 and she is betrothed to him, but despises him, and loves .lEneas only, who in 
 turn contemns Dido. Her scorn for larbas, and his love to her, although she 
 hates him, grows stronger. Anna loves larbas, and he has some regard for her, 
 but only as for a friend ; the love and devotion she bears to him is very marked, 
 yet he despises and treats her with contumel}'. We should bear in mind while 
 leading this play that all the pain and .disappointment to these lovers hinges 
 upon the tricks of Venus and Cupid, who assume the habit and form of 
 Ascanius. The same thing may be said of Puck in Midsummer Night's 
 Dream ; the similitude begins in act 2, scene 6, and as there are a number of 
 these scenes equally suggestive interspersed throughout the play, we cannot do 
 i?tter as a specimen than give the following : — 
 
 Enter Venus, Cupid, and Ascanius. 
 Venus takes Ascanius hy the sleeve. 
 Yen. Fair child, staj^ thou with 
 Dido's waiting-maid ; 
 ril give thee sugar-almonds, sweet 
 
 conserves, 
 A silver girdle, and a golden jiurse, 
 And this yoiing prince shall be thy 
 playfellow. 
 Asc. Are you Queen Dido's sou ? 
 (Jvp. Aye, and my mother gave 
 
 me this fine bow. 
 Asc. Shall I have such a (piiver 
 
 and a bow ? 
 Yen. Such baw, such quiver, and 
 such golden shafts. 
 Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius. 
 For Dido's sake I take thee in my 
 
 arms. 
 And stick these spangled feathers in 
 thy hat ; 
 
 Eat comfits in mine arms, and I will 
 sing. 
 
 Now is he fast asleep, and in this 
 grove. 
 
 Amongst green brakes Til lay As- 
 canius, 
 
 And strew him with sweet-smelling 
 voilets, 
 
 [With] blushing roses, purple hya- 
 cinths, 
 
 These milk-white doves shall be his 
 centronels, 
 
 AVlid. if that any seek to do him hurt, 
 
 Will quickly fly to Cytherea's fist. 
 
 N<iw, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' 
 shaiae, 
 
 And go to Didf), who, instead of him. 
 
 Will set thee on her lap, and play 
 with thee ; 
 
 Then touch her white breast with 
 this arrow head,
 
 11 
 
 That she may dote upon ^ueaa' love. 
 And by that means repair hia broken 
 
 ships, 
 Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy 
 
 gifts, 
 And he, at length, depart to Italy, 
 Or else in Carthage make his kingly 
 
 home. 
 Cup. I will, fair mother, and so 
 
 play my part 
 As every touch shall wound Queen 
 
 Dido's heart. \_Ejcit. 
 
 Ven. Sleep, my sweet Nephew, in 
 
 these cooling shades. 
 Free from the murmur of these run- 
 ning streams, 
 The cry of beasts, the rattling of the 
 
 winds, 
 Or whisking of these leaves ; all shall 
 
 be still, 
 
 And nothing interrupt thy quiet 
 
 sleep, 
 Till I return and take thee hence 
 
 again. \_Exit. 
 
 Enter Cupid. 
 
 Cup. Now, Cupid, cause the 
 
 Carthaginian queen 
 To be enamoured of thy brother's 
 
 looks. 
 Convey this golden arrow in thy 
 
 sleeve. 
 Lest she imagine thou art Venus' 
 
 son ; 
 And when she strokes the© softly on 
 
 the head. 
 Then shall I touch her breast and 
 
 conquer her. 
 
 The 18th book of the Iliad probably furnished hints for the fairy scenes 
 in the Midsummer Night's Dream, where Thetis, the goddess of the sea, brings 
 with her all her sea-nymphs to console her son Achilles. It is not unlikely 
 either that Shakspeare, in drawing such a being as Puck, had Marlowe's Cupid, 
 in the form of Ascanius, in his mind. Marlowe's Cujjid and Shaksj^eare's 
 Puck, in their several intrigues with human aifairs, are somewhat alike. For 
 instance, the scene where Cupid touches the breast of Dido, and charms her in 
 order that she will suddenly fall in love with ^Eneas. Puck uses similar arts 
 to enchain the loves of Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena. Another 
 incident bearing upon this play is in the Odyssey, Chapman's translation, book 
 2, page 45, where Pallas enters invisible the palace of revellers, and suddenly 
 charms them to sleej). The lines are as follows : — 
 
 Straight to the house she hasted, and sweet sleep 
 Pour'd on each wooer, which so laid in steep 
 Their drow.sy temples, that each brow did nod, 
 As all were drinking ; and each hand his load 
 The cup let fall ; all started up and to bed. 
 Nor more would watch when sleep so surfeited 
 Their leaden eyelids. 
 
 Of all the supernatural creations of Homer, I should be more inclined to 
 think Shakspeare had Apollo in his mind when he created Puck, as Apollo 
 seems to be the god who has the power to assume any shape and form, human 
 or otherwise, who could control and overthrow every well-laid plan of mankind 
 and, if incensed, could bring upon the earth famine, pestilence, and disease. 
 Puck is a very tricksy and playful being indeed ; Apollo is more grave than 
 gay. It may be that Shakspeare had the incidents of Homer's Apollo and Pallas 
 in his mind as well as Marlowe's Cupid, when he created Puck. Again, the 10th 
 book of the Odyessy, page 236, Mercury gives Ulysses the herb Moly to overcome 
 Circe, the enchantress. Puck squeezes the juice of some flower upon the eyes 
 of Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena, while sleeping, in order to give 
 their loves a couuter-charm or change, and also in the incident of Titaaia, the
 
 12 
 
 queen of fairies, with Bottom. The discourse in act 2, scfue 2, between Oberon 
 and Titania, may have been suggested by the incident in the 1st book of the 
 IHad, page 3, where Apollo, in answer to the prayers of the insulted and injured 
 priest, sends a dreadful pestilence and plague upon the earth. Or may not 
 Shakspeare have had these lines of Marlowe iu his head from Ovid's Elegies, 
 page 256, thus : — 
 
 Charms change com to grass and make it die : 
 By charms are running springs and fountains dry, 
 By charms mast drops fi-om oaks, from vines grapes fall, 
 And fruit from trees wheu there's no wind at all. 
 
 Notice in the next place incidents in the Tempest, and what may 
 have suggested them. The best authorities consider the account of Sir 
 George Somers' shipwreck crew, in his voyage to Bermuda Islands, a reliable 
 source, and the first foundation of the Tempest, the narrative of which was 
 published by Sylvester Jordan. A biographer writes : — He was on a voyage for 
 the purpose of colonizing Virginia, and was cast on the Bermuda Islands, then 
 uninhabited, and generally believed to be enchanted. Several mutinies occurred 
 while Sir George Somers and his people remained on the island, and a sea 
 monster man had once shown himself to some of the party whose eyes were 
 best suited to the rare discovery Stowe, in his annals, speaking of this ship- 
 wreck upon the dreadful coast, further remarks that these Islands were of all 
 nations said and supposed to be enchanted, and inhabited by witches and devils, 
 which grew by means of accustomed monstrous thunder storms and tempest. 
 This account of old Stowe of tlie elemental growth and generation of the hags, 
 imps, devils, and abortions of the Island, is fearfully fine. Caliban, Sycorex, 
 and Setebos well might be imagined to have first glared into life through the 
 long fermenting incantation of accustomed monstrous thunder. The narrative 
 of the shipwreck of Sir George Somers was published in 1610, the Tempest in 
 1611. 
 
 In collecting matter for this work, I shall point to another source 
 aa likely to have furnished hints for the wreck scenes in the Tempest. I 
 refer to the former part of Dido, Queen of Carthage, that portion which relates 
 to JEneas and his men being shipwrecked upon the imknown island. If we 
 read this conjointly with Dr. Faustus, and study the Tempest from this view, 
 there is much in it which conveys many similar impressions, both as regards 
 the wreck and Prospero's Necromantic Spells. Again, would not the character 
 of Prospero and Ariel bear a resemblance to Faustus and Mephistophilis ? There 
 may be some grounds for supposing that Shakspeare had in his mind when he 
 drew Prospero and Ariel, the characters of Faustus and Mephistophilis. The 
 relation Ariel bears to Prospero is about the same that Mephistophilis does to 
 Faustus, and the offices of Ariel bear some sort of likeness to those of Mephis- 
 tophilis. There is this marked difference between these two beings : that the 
 one is a malignant fiend, who seeks his master's hurt, and those around him, 
 while the other is a good and beautiful spirit, who seeks his master's good, and 
 serves iiim faithfully. Both their natures, too, are of the supernatural, and 
 both plays treat upon necromancy. The 'Tempest, however, is a far superior 
 production, we admit, viewed from any standpoint, nor would such work as a 
 whole in any way compare with it. Let us select one or two of the passages 
 contained in this play, all of which relate to the subject. Faustus ruminates on 
 the possession of his art, and gives utterance to the following, act 1, scene 1 : —
 
 13 
 
 Faust. How am I glutted with 
 conceit of this ! 
 Shall I make spirits fetch me what 
 
 I please, 
 Resolve me of all ambiguities, 
 Perform what desperate enterprise I 
 
 will ? 
 I'll have them fly to India for gold. 
 Ransack the Ocean for orient pearl, 
 And search all corners of the new- 
 found world 
 For pleasant fruits and princely deli- 
 
 cates ; 
 I'll have them read me strange Phil- 
 osophy, 
 And tell the secrets of all foreign kings, 
 I'll have them wall all Germany 
 with brass, 
 
 Another, act 1, scene 4 : — 
 
 Meph. Here, take this book,peruse 
 it thoroughly ; [^Gives a hook. 
 
 The iterating of these lines brings 
 gold ; 
 
 The framing of this circle on the 
 ground 
 
 Another, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Faust. My heart's so hardened I 
 
 cannot repent. 
 Scarce can I name salvation, faith, 
 
 or heaven, 
 But fearful thunders echo in mine 
 
 ears 
 Faustus, thou art damned ! Then 
 
 swords and knives. 
 
 And make swift Rhine circle fair 
 
 Wertenberg, 
 I'll have them fill the public schooh 
 
 with silk 
 Wherewith the students shall bo 
 
 bravely clad ; 
 I'll levy soldiers with the coin they 
 
 bring, 
 And chase the Prince of Parma from 
 
 our land, 
 And reign sole King of all the Pro- 
 vinces ; 
 Yea, stranger engines for the brunt 
 
 of War 
 Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp's 
 
 bridge, 
 I'll make my servile spirits to invent. 
 
 Brings whirlwinds, tempest8,thunder 
 
 and lightning ; 
 Pronounce this thrice devoutly to 
 
 thyself, 
 And men in armour shall appear to 
 
 thee. 
 Ready to execute what thou desir'st. 
 
 Poison, guns, halters, and enTenom- 
 ed steel 
 
 Are laid before me to despatch my- 
 self, 
 
 And long ere this I should have slain 
 myself, 
 
 Had not sweet pleasure conquered 
 deep despair. 
 
 Again, just before Faustus has sold his soul, he is very much troubled. 
 Mephistophilia, perceiving this, says : — 
 
 Meph. I'll fetch him something to 
 delight his mind. 
 
 [Aside, and exit. 
 
 Re-enter Mephistophilis with Devils, 
 who give C7•o^mlS and rich apparel 
 to Faustus, dance, and depart. 
 
 Faust. Speak, Mephistophilis,whftt 
 
 raeaus this show ? 
 Meph. JSTothing, Faustus, but to 
 
 delip;ht thy mind withal, 
 And to show thee what Magic caa 
 
 perform. 
 
 May not the above incident have suggested the one in the Tempest, act 3, 
 scene 3. Shakspeare has made much of this idea. There is one more scene 
 to which 1 wish particularly to druw attention. It is in act 1, scene 6 ; —
 
 u 
 
 Enter Fatistus a7id MepliistoiAilis. 
 Mfph. Nay, Faustus, stay ; I know 
 you'd see the Pope, 
 And take some part of holy Peter's 
 
 feast, 
 Where thou shalt see a troupe of 
 
 bald-jiate friars. 
 Whose summum bonum is in belly 
 cheer. 
 Faust. Well, I'm content to com- 
 pass then some sjjort, 
 And by their folly make us merri- 
 ment. 
 Then charm me [so] that I 
 Maj^ be invisible, to do what I please 
 Unseen of any whilst I stay in Rome. 
 [Mephistophilis charms him. 
 Meph. So, Faustus, now 
 Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not 
 be discerned. 
 
 Sound a Sennet. Enter the Pope and 
 and the Cardinal of Lorrain, to the 
 Banquet, with Friars attending. 
 
 Pope. My Lord of Lorrian, wilt 
 
 please you draw near ? 
 Faust. Fall to, and the devil choke 
 
 you an you spare ! 
 Pope. How now ! Who's that 
 which spake ? Friars, look about. 
 First Friar. Here's nobody, if it 
 
 like your Holiness. 
 PojK. My lord, here is a dainty 
 dish was sent me from the Bishop of 
 Milan. 
 
 Faust. I thank you, sir. 
 
 [Snatches the dish. 
 Pope. How now ! Who's that 
 which snatched the meat from me ? 
 Will no man look ? My Lord, this 
 dish was sent me from the Cardinal 
 of Florence. 
 
 Faust. You say true. I'll ha't. 
 
 [Snatches the dish. 
 Pope. What, again ! My lord, I'll 
 drink to your grace. 
 
 [Snatches the cup. 
 C. of Lnr. My lord, it may be 
 some ghost newly crept out of Pur- 
 gatory, come to beg a pardon of your 
 Holiness. 
 
 Pope. It may be so. Friars, pre- 
 pare a dirge to lay the fury of this 
 ghost. Once again, my lord, fall to. 
 [The Pojje crosses himself. 
 Faust. What are you crossing of 
 yourself ? 
 Well, us^fe that trick no more I would 
 advise you. 
 
 [The Pope crosses himself again. 
 Well, there's a second time. Aware 
 
 the third, 
 I give you fair warning. 
 
 [The Pope crosses himself again, 
 and Faustus hits him a box of 
 the ears; and the 1/ all run away. 
 Come on, Mephistophilis, what shall 
 we do ? 
 Meph. Nay, I know not. We shall 
 be cursed with bell, book, and 
 candle. 
 Faust. How! bell, book, and candle 
 — candle, book, and bell. 
 Forward and backward to curse 
 
 Faustus to Hell ! 
 Anon you shall hear a hog grunt, a 
 
 calf bleat, an ass bray. 
 Because it is Saint Peter's' Holiday. 
 
 Re-enter the Friars to sing the Dirge. 
 
 First Friar. Come, brethren, let's 
 
 about our business with good dcTo- 
 
 tion. [They sing. 
 
 Cursed be he that stole away his Holi- 
 ness' meat from the table! Maledicat 
 Dominus ! 
 
 Cursed be he that struch his Holiness 
 a blow on the face ! Maledicat 
 Dominus ! 
 
 Cursed be he that took Friar Sandelo 
 a blow on the pate ! Maledicat 
 Dominus ! 
 
 Cursed be he that disturbeth our holy 
 dirge ! Maledicat Dominus ! 
 
 Cursed be he that took away his Holi- 
 ness' wine ! Maledicat Dominus I 
 Et omnes Sancti ! A men ! 
 
 [Mephistophilis and Faustus beat the 
 Friars, and fling flreworks among 
 them ; and so exeunt.]
 
 15 
 
 The above scene, there can be no doubt, suggested not a few of those in 
 the Tempest. For instancs, we have Ariel moving about invisible in mid-nir, 
 actuating those around him. The intrigues of this sprite with Pro^pero, his 
 brother, the courtiei-s, the drunken butler Stephano, Trinculo the jester, and Cali- 
 ban, resemble in some degree the tricks of Faustus and Mephistophilis with the 
 pope and friars. This scene will compare, more than anything I know of, with the 
 incident in the Tempest, act 3, scene 2. Yet some people may urge, could not 
 Shakspeare get his inspiration from the same source as Marlowe ? I say yes ; 
 but the incident is entirely his own, and it so happened that Marlowe was the 
 first great scholar and dramatist who pointed to the legend as a subject for a 
 drama. There are many great thoughts and truths, both in literature and 
 science, lie latent and buried until someone with a better wit, and deeper 
 penetration than ourselves, stumbles upon them and discovers them to us. 
 The same truth impresses different minds differently, nor are we all possessed 
 with discrimination alike ; some have it in a greater or less degree — not that I 
 woiild infer that Sliakspeare was wanting in discernment, or that Marlowe 
 should possess this in a greater sense than Shakspeare ; what I wish to convey 
 is, as some writer has it, " that a great genius seldom, if ever, creates a new 
 form of literature into which to throw the products of his intellect. He gen- 
 erally adopts that which is already popular, and consecrates it to his purpose." 
 Hence we may venture to assert that Shakspeare would not go out of his way 
 for ideas, while he could get them so near at hand, clothed in such language aa 
 only Marlowe could use. 
 
 Also refer to Chapman's translation of the Odyssey, the 4th book, page 
 100, where the con.spiratars hold an audience, as follows : — 
 
 This all applauded, and gave charge to do. 
 Rose, and to greet Ulysses house did go ; 
 But long time passed not ere Penelope 
 Had notice of their far-fetched treachery. 
 Med on, the herald, told her who had heard 
 Without the hall how thej' within conferred, 
 And hasted straight to tell it to the queen. 
 
 This little incident of conspiracy probably suggesttd the one in the Tem- 
 pest. Medon, the herald, may be likened to Ariel in act 2, scene 1, announcing 
 to the sleeping Alonzo the base treachery and plot of Sebastian and Antonio 
 upon his life. Nor will the Tempest become less interesting if we keep in 
 mind while we read it the 4th and 6th book of the Odyssey ; indeed I think 
 Shakspeare was very conversant with the Iliad and Odj'ssey, as they are a fund 
 of rich and varied resources. In Marlowe's Dido, Queen of Carthage, act 3 
 scene 3, there is another idea very similar in the following lines :— 
 
 Yen. What should this mean ? My doves are back returned, 
 Who warn me of such danger prest atihand, 
 To harm mj- sweet Ascanius' lovely life. 
 Juno, niy mortal foe, what make you here ? 
 Out, hateful hag ! thou would'st have slain my son, 
 Had not my doves discovered thy intent ; 
 But I will tear thy eyes from forth thy head. 
 And feast tlie birds with their bloodshotten balls, 
 If thou l:)ut lay thy fingers on my boy !
 
 16 
 
 Setebos, of whom Shakspeare speaks, is the god of Sycorex, and other foul 
 witches of the island. I never read this passage in the Tempest but I am 
 reminded of the relation this Setebos may bear to Proteus, as he seems a very 
 patent minister, and a compound of witch, S3a god, and enchanter. Idothea, a 
 eea spirit, and the supposed offspring of Proteus, has a strange affinity of nature 
 to Ariel, any more than the character and qualities of Ariel are unfolded and 
 better developed by Shakspeare. In the absence of any other theory or oon- 
 jecture, Setebos might be said to be the father of Ariel. 
 
 Consider in the next place Middleton's Witch Scene with relation to the 
 Tempest, and Macbeth, as follows ; — 
 
 THE WITCHES' HABITATION. 
 
 Enter Heccat, Stidlin, Hoppo, and 
 other Witches. 
 
 Uec. The moon's a-gallant, see 
 how brisk she rides. 
 
 Stad. Here's a rich evening,Heccat 
 
 Hec. Aye ! is't not, wenches, to 
 take a journey of five-thousand miles? 
 
 Hop. Ours wUl be more to-night. 
 
 Hec. Oh, 'twill be precious ; 
 Heard you the owl yet ? 
 
 Stad. Briefly, in the copse, as we 
 came through now. 
 
 Hec. 'Tii high time for ws, then. 
 
 Stad. There was a bat hung at my 
 lips three tmies as we came through 
 the woods, and drank her fill. Old 
 Puckle saw her. 
 
 Hec. You are fortunate, still ; the 
 very screech owl lights upon your 
 shoulders, and woos you like apigeon. 
 Are you furnished ? Have you your 
 ointments ? 
 
 Stad. all. 
 
 Hec. Prepare to fight, then ; 
 I'll overtake you swiftly. 
 
 Stad. Hi«, then, Heccat, we shall 
 be up betimes. 
 
 Hec. I'll reach you quickly. 
 
 [They ascend. 
 
 iiig 
 til' 
 
 Enter Firestone. 
 Fire. They are all going a-birdin^ 
 to-night. 'They talk of fowls i 
 air that fly by daj^ ; I'm sure there'll 
 be a company of fowl sluts there to- 
 night,if we have notmortality afear'd. 
 I'll be hanged ! for they are able to 
 putrify it to infect a whole region. 
 She spies me now. 
 
 Hec. What, Firestone ? My own 
 sweet son ? 
 
 Fire. A little sweeter than some 
 of you. 
 Or a dunghill were too good for me. 
 
 Hec. How much hast there ? 
 
 Fire. Nineteen, and all brave, 
 plump ones, besides six I'zards, and 
 three serpentine eggs. 
 
 Hec. Dear and sweet boy, what 
 herbs hast thou ? 
 
 Fire. I have some mar- martin and 
 mandragon. 
 
 Hec. mar-marritten and mandra- 
 gora, thou would'st say. 
 
 Fire. Here's pannex, too. I thank 
 thee, mj' pan'akes, I am sore with 
 kneeling down to cut 'em. 
 
 Hec. And Selago Hedge Hyssop, 
 too ; how near he goes my cuttings. 
 Were they all cropt by moonlight ? 
 
 Fire. Evei-y blade of 'em, or I am 
 a mooncalf, mother. 
 
 Hec. Hie thee home ■with 'em, 
 look well to th' house to-night, I'm 
 for aloft. 
 
 Fire. Aloft, quoth you ? I would 
 you would break your neck once, that 
 I might have all quickly. 
 
 [Said aside. 
 Hark ! hark ! mother, they are above 
 the steeple already, flying over your 
 head with a noise of musicians. 
 
 Her. They are, indeed ; help me ! 
 help me I or I'm too late else. 
 
 Song in the air above. 
 Come away, come away, Heccat, 
 Heccat, come away. 
 
 Hec. I come, I come, I come, I 
 come,
 
 17 
 
 With all the speed I may, with all 
 
 the speed I may. 
 Where's Stadlin ? 
 The W. above. Here. 
 Hec. Where's Puckle ? 
 The W. above. Here, and Hoppo 
 too, and Helewain too. 
 We lack but you, we lack but you. 
 Come away, make up the count. 
 Hec. I will but 'noint, and then I 
 mount. 
 [A spirit descends in the shape 
 of a cat. 
 The W. above. There's one come 
 down to fetch his dues. 
 A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood, and why 
 
 thou stay'st so long 
 I muse, I muse, since th' air's so 
 sweet and good. 
 Ifec. Oh, art thou come ? what 
 
 news ? what news ? 
 Spir. All goes still to our delight. 
 Either come or else refuse. 
 
 Jlec. Now I'm furnish'd for the 
 
 flight. 
 Fire. Hark ! hark ! the cat sings 
 a brave treble in her own lang- 
 uage. 
 [Hecat, ascending with the spirit. 
 Hec. Now I go, now I fly, Malkin, 
 my sweet spirit, and I. 
 Oh, what a dainty pleasure 'tis to 
 
 ride in the air, 
 To ride in the air when the moon 
 
 shines fair. 
 And sing, and dance, and toy, and 
 
 kiss. 
 Over woods, high rocks, and moun- 
 tains. 
 Over seas, our mistress' fountains, 
 Over steep tower and turrets. 
 We'll fly by night, 'mongst troops 
 
 of spirits ; 
 No ring of bells to our eai-s sounds, 
 No howls of wolves, no yelps of 
 
 hounds ; 
 No, nut the noise of water's breach. 
 Or canon's roar our height can reach. 
 
 The Witches sing above, No ring 
 
 of Bells, (fcc, ct'c. 
 Fire. Well mother, I thank your 
 kindness, you must be gamboling i' 
 
 th' air, and leave me here to walk 
 like a fool and a mortal. \exit 
 
 THE WITCHES' HABITATION 
 
 Enter Duchess, Heccat, and 
 
 Firestone. 
 
 Hec. What death is't you desire 
 for Almachiles ? 
 
 Duck. A sudden and a subtle. 
 
 Hec. Then I've fitted you. Here 
 lie the gifts of both sudden and 
 subtle. His picture made in wax, 
 and gently molten by a blue fire, 
 kindled with dead men's eyes, will 
 waste him by degrees. 
 
 Duck. In what time prithee ? 
 
 Hec. Perhaps a month's progress. 
 
 Duch. What, a month? Out upon 
 pictures if they be so tedious ; give 
 me things with some life. 
 
 Hec. Then seek no farther. 
 
 Duch. This must be done with 
 speed, despatched this night if it 
 may possibly. 
 
 Hec. I have it for you ; here's that 
 will do 't. Stay but perfection's 
 time, and that not five hours hence. 
 
 Duch. Canst thou do this ? 
 
 Hec. Can I ? 
 
 Duch. I mean so closely. 
 
 Hec. So closely do you mean, too? 
 
 Duch. So artfully, so cunningly? 
 
 Hec. Worse and worse doubts and 
 incredulities they make me mad, let 
 scrupulous creatures know. 
 Cum volin Jiipisipsis Mirantabus 
 
 Amnes, 
 Infontcs rediere sues concuss aqua 
 
 sisto 
 Stantia conditio cantu freta nubila 
 
 pello 
 Nubilaque induco ventos ambigo que 
 
 vocuque 
 Vipercas rumpo verbis et carmine 
 
 fauces 
 Et siivas hwceo jubesque tremis cere 
 
 mantes 
 Et mugire solum manesquc exire 
 
 sepulchris 
 Te quoque luna traho. 
 Can you doubt me, then, daughter, 
 that can make mountains tremble,
 
 18 
 
 miles of wood walk, whole earth's 
 foundations bellow, and the spirits 
 of the entombed to burst from their 
 marbles ; nay, draw yon moon to my 
 involv'd designs ? 
 
 Fiyc. I know as well as can be 
 when my mother's mad, and our 
 great cat angry, for one spits French 
 then, and the other spits Latin. 
 
 Duch. I did not doubt you, mother. 
 
 Hec. No ? what did you ? My 
 power's so firm, it is not to be ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 Duch. Forgive what's past, and 
 now I know th' offensiveneas that 
 vexes art, I'll shun the occasion ever. 
 
 Hec. Leave all to me and my five 
 sisters, daughter ; it shall be con- 
 Teyed in at Howlet time. Take you 
 no care ; my spirits know their mo- 
 ments. Raven or screech owl never 
 fly th' door but they call in ; I thank 
 'em, and they lose not by it. I give 
 'em barley soaked in infants' blood. 
 They shall have semina cum sanguine, 
 their gorge cramm'd full, if they 
 come to our house ; we are no nig- 
 gard, [exit Duchess. 
 
 Fire. They fare but too well when 
 thej" come hither ; they ate as much 
 t' other night as would have made 
 me a good conscionable pudding. 
 
 Hec. Give me some lizzard's 
 brains, quickly, Firestone. 
 
 Jfer. Where's Gramam, Stadlin, 
 and all the rest o' th' sisters ? 
 
 Fire. All at hand, forsooth. 
 
 [7'he other Witches appear. 
 
 Ihc. Give mesomemar-maritten, 
 gome bear breech. 
 
 Fire. Here's bear breech and liz- 
 zard's brains, forsooth. 
 
 Hec. Into the vessel, and fetch 
 three ounces of the red-hair'd girl I 
 kill'd last night. 
 
 Fire, ^^'here about, sweet mother? 
 
 IIe<: Hip, hip or flank, where is 
 the acopus. 
 
 Fire. You shall havn acopus, for- 
 sooth. 
 
 llec. Stir, stir about, whir»t I 
 begin the charm. 
 
 A CHARM SONG. 
 
 The Witches going about the 
 
 Oanldvon. 
 
 Black spirits, and white red spirits, 
 
 and grey. 
 Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that 
 
 mingle may. 
 Titty Tiffin, keep it stiff in, 
 Firedrake Puckey, make it lucky, 
 Liard Robin, you must bob in. 
 Round, around, around, about,about, 
 All ill come running in, all good keep 
 out. 
 First W. Here's the blood of a bat. 
 Jlec. Put in that, oh, put in that. 
 Second W. Here's a libbard's bane, 
 Jlec. Put in again. 
 First Witch. The juice of toad, the 
 
 oil of adder, 
 Second W. Those will make the 
 
 younker madder 
 Jlec. Put in, there's all, and rid 
 
 the stench, 
 Fire. Nay, here's three ounces of 
 
 the red-hair'd wench. 
 AW. Round, around, around, &c. 
 Jlec. So, BO, enough, into the ves- 
 sel with it, there 't hath the true 
 perfection. I'm so light at any 
 mischief, there's no villany but is a 
 tune, methinks. 
 
 Fire. A tune ? 'tis to the tune of 
 damnation, then, I warrant you, and 
 that song hath a villanous liurtheu. 
 
 J/ec. Come, my sweet sisters, 
 Ijet the air strike our tune. 
 Whilst we show reverence to yon 
 
 peeping moon. 
 [The witches dance, and then exeunt. 
 
 In reading this play, the scene where the witches flj- in the air, and music 
 is heard overhead, conveys to the mind an impression something like the one 
 in the Tempest, where Ariel, invisible, is hovering about and above, filling the 
 air with music. Probablj' the idea of beings playing music in the air sug- 
 (:ested itself to Shakspeare for his Ariel, on reading this scene. Beside*, Middle-
 
 19 
 
 ton's play, the Witch, is generally admitted to have supplied Shakspeare with the 
 Cauldron Scene in Macbeth. As the reader now has it before him, there will 
 need very little comment of mine on this point. Macbeth is an incomparable 
 work, nor will this play bear any comparision with it. It is certainly interest- 
 ing to trace the history and progress of our drama, and to ascertain, if possible, 
 to what extent one writer is indebted to another. The witches of Middleton 
 are very fanciful and harmless creations. Shakspeare's three witches have been 
 compared by some writer, and very properly so, to Eschylus' Furies, in his 
 Eumenides. Perhaps he is indebted to the Greek tragic poet for something in 
 Macbeth, although there does not appear to have been any translation of his 
 works in our author's time, at least if there was, there has none come down to us. 
 The Banquet Scene of Macbeth, act 3, scene 4, may have been suggested 
 by an incident in Beaumont and Hetcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, and 
 if it be assumed that this play went before Macbeth, as there is some contra- 
 diction in the dates of these productions, it is just probable Shakspeare adapted 
 the scene for his play, otherwise Beaumont and Fletcher may be indebted to 
 Shakspeare for the idea. We here append the scene, act 5, scene 1 : — 
 
 A ROOM IN THE HOUSE OF 
 VENTERWELS. 
 
 Enter Jasper and Venterwels, 
 
 Jasper's /ace aU mealed. 
 Jas. Forbear thy pains, fond man, 
 
 it is too late. 
 Yen. Heaven bJess me, Jasper ! 
 Jas. Aye, I am his ghost 
 ^^'hom thou hast injured for his 
 
 constant love. 
 Fond, worldly wretch, who does not 
 
 understand 
 In death that true hearts cannot 
 
 parted be, 
 First know thy daughter is quite 
 
 borne away 
 On wings of angels, through the 
 
 liquid air. 
 Too far out of thy reach ; and never 
 
 more 
 Shalt thou bshold her face, but she 
 
 and I 
 Will in another world enjoj' our 
 
 loves. 
 Where neither father's anger,povei-ty. 
 Nor any cross that troubles earthly 
 
 men, 
 Shall make us sever our united hearts. 
 And never shalt thou sit, or be alone 
 
 In any place, but I will visit thee 
 With ghastly looks, and put into thy 
 
 mind 
 The great offences which thou did'st 
 
 to me. 
 When thou art at thy table with thy 
 
 friend, 
 Merry in heart, and filled with swell- 
 ing wine, 
 I'll come in midst of all thy pride 
 
 and mirth. 
 Invisible to all men but thyself. 
 And whisper such a sad tale in thine 
 
 ear 
 Shall make thee let the cup fall from 
 
 thy hand. 
 And stand as mute and pale as death 
 
 itself. 
 Yen. Forgive me, Jasper. Oh ! 
 
 what might I do, 
 Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled 
 
 ghost ? 
 Jas. There is no means ; too late 
 
 thou think'st of this. 
 Yen. But tell me, what were best 
 
 for me to do ? 
 Jas. Repent thy deed, and satisfy 
 
 my father. 
 And beat fond Humphrey out of thy 
 
 doors. 
 
 Again, compare the same to the 24th book of the Iliad, page 265, where 
 Priam enters the court of Achilles at night, while at meat with liLs friends, 
 unseen by any but him, as follows : —
 
 20 , 
 
 The king tlieu left his coach 
 To grave Idseus, and went on, made his resolv'd approach, 
 And enter'd in a goodly room, where with his princes sate 
 Jove-lov'd Achilles, at their feast ; two only kept the state 
 Of his attendance, Alciinus, and lord Automedon, 
 At Priam's entry. A great time Achilles gaz'd upon _ 
 His wonder'd-at approach, nor ate ; the rest did nothing see, 
 While close he came up, with his hands fast holding the bent knee 
 Of Hector's conqueror, and kiss'd that large man- slaught' ring hand 
 That much blood from his sous had drawn. And as in some strange land, 
 And great man's house, a man is driv'n (with that abhorr'd dismay 
 That follows wilful blood.shed still, his fortune being to slay 
 One whose blood cries aloud for his) to plead protection, 
 In such a miserable plight as frights the lookers on ; 
 In such a stupified estate Achilles sat to see 
 So unexpected, so in night, and so incredibly, 
 Old Priam's entry. All his friends on one another star'd 
 To see his strange looks, seeing no cause. 
 
 There is only one more idea with which I am acquainted that may ha,ye 
 caused a train of thought which led to the incident of the Banquet Scene in 
 Macbeth. I refer to the scene in Chapman's Iliad, book 1, page 8 and 9, where 
 the Grecian Council is sitting. Agamemnon and Achilles enter into an angry 
 and furious contest over their beautiful captive, Briseis. Achilles draws his 
 sword upon Agamemnon, and but for Juno, wlio sees the danger of a combat 
 between them, suddenly sends the goddess Atheuia into the council, who 
 appears to Achilles, and at the same time is invisible to all the assembly but 
 him, and who entreats of him to sheath his sword, and be at peace. The ghost 
 of Banquo is invisible to all in the Banquet but Macbeth, and Athenia the 
 goddess is invisible to all in the council but Achilles. So far, then, these two 
 ideas are alike ; although neither of the scenes harrow up the conscience, nor 
 excite terror and remorse, like the one in Macbeth ; the analogy here breaks off, 
 and the most that can be said of them is, " they are suggestive." Yet Middleton's 
 Play, the ^yitch, and these scenes, would, in Shakspeare's hands, become a source 
 for his Macbeth. Of course, he had the Scottish Chronicles, Legends, and other 
 old histories, one of which relates that Macbeth was met at Forres, on the 
 heath, by three old women, or witches, exclaiming one after the other : — 
 
 " All hail, Macbeth ! hail to thee, Thane of Clamis ;" 
 " All hail, Macbeth ! hail to thee. Thane of Cawdor ;" 
 " All hail, Macbeth ! thou shalt be king of Scotland." 
 
 In an age of superstition, Avhen it was currently believed that individuals 
 had intercourse with the unseen world, it is not wonderful that even Macbeth 
 should have fancied that in these empty sounds he heard some prophetic voice, 
 nor could his impression fail to be strengtheneil by the coincidence that before 
 he had recovered from his surprise, there cauie a messenger to tell him of his 
 father's death, by which event he became by inherit \nce Thane of Clamis. Nor 
 was tliis all ; no sooner was he in possession of his new honours, than a second 
 messenger came from the King, to inform him that the Thane of Cawdor had 
 been guilty of rebellion against "the Throne, and having deprived him of his 
 titles and his honours, it was the Royal pleasure to confer them on Macbeth, in 
 remembrance of his recent great victories. He now became Thane of Cawdor
 
 21 
 
 as well as of Clamis, and two parts of the prophecy having been fulfilled, why 
 Bhould it fail ini ts last and highest development ? 
 
 Let us turn our attention besides to Scriptural revelation, which bears 
 directly upon this subject. I refer more particularly to the 28th chapter of the 
 First Book of Samuel, and the 8th chapter of the Second Book of Kings. _ In 
 the 10th verse of the 8th chapter of the Second Book of Kings, we have a direct 
 prophecy and a promise, and yet there is implied in this prophecy an amount 
 of equivocation and contradiction. That Shakspeare had this verse of holy writ 
 in his mind is almost certain, when he penned these remarkable lines in act 1, 
 scene 3 : — 
 
 Witches. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater, 
 Not so happy, yet much happier. 
 Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. 
 
 Again, act 5, scene 7 : — 
 
 Macbeth. And be these j uggling fiends no more believed, 
 That palter with us in a double sense, 
 That keep the word of promise to our ear. 
 And break it to our hope. 
 
 In the 28th chapter of the First Book of Samuel, and the 13th, 14th, and 
 15th verses, is as follows : And the king said unto her, be not afraid, for what 
 sawest thou ? And the woman said unto Saul, I saw gods ascending out of the 
 earth, &c. The idea of gods ascending out of the earth might have furnished 
 Shakspeare in Macb^fth with hints for the different apparations that rise from 
 the cauldron to tell him of his fate. The 8th chapter of the Second Book of 
 Kings, 10th verse, we have the following : And Elisha the prophet said unto 
 Hazael, go, say unto Benadad the king, thou may'st surely recover ; howbeit, 
 the Lord hath shewed me that he, Benadad, shall surely die. This is the verse 
 to which I have before referred, that implies such ambiguity and double meaning. 
 Again, in the latter part of the 13th verse, Elisha says to Hazael, the Lord hath 
 shewed me that thou shalt be king over Syria. In this 13th verse, as well as in 
 the 10th, we have a prophetic declaration, calculated to encourage, flatter, and 
 pufif up the already formed ambitious and murderous designs of Hazael against 
 his sovereign, Benadad, the king. The prophet Elisha reveals the future up to 
 him in these words: And the Lord shewed me that thou, Hazael, shalt be king 
 over Syria. If Elisha had not uttered this flattering prophecy to Hazael, he 
 may not have murdered Benadad the King. There is much in Macbeth's char- 
 acter like Hazael's. Shakspeare obviously worked this idea in his Macbeth, for 
 nu sooner had the witches uttered their prophecy that Macbeth should be king 
 «f Scotland, than his ambitious and murderous designs began to show them- 
 selves. Some one has said that flattery is the nurse of crime, and I think we 
 have this remark more than verified in the history of Macbeth. Shalcspeare 
 his exhausted in this woi'k nearly eveiything on the subject ; no authority was 
 too poor, nothing too mean, but that his all-assimilating genius could find 
 something in it for his use. It is clear, however, that he consulted and com- 
 Inned three great sources in the construction of this play, viz. : H istory. Legend, 
 and Scripture. 
 
 Let us now lixjk for a little while at Marlowe's Barabas and Shakspeare's 
 lago. The similarity of lago with tiie Jew of Malta is plain in many 
 respects. The plottinj-, crafty nature of lago is very mucli akin to that 
 of Barabas, and it is not at all unlikely that Shakspeare had studied this char-
 
 22 
 
 acter when he drew lago ; for instance, Barabas plots the lives of two of his 
 clearest friends, Matthias and Lodowick, and succeeds in it. The device in which 
 Matthias and Lodowick are brought to meet by Barabas is followed out closely 
 in a like manner by lago with Montano, Roderigo, and Cassio ; the two last named 
 characters almost stand in the same relation to lago as Don Lodowick and 
 JIatthias do to Barabas. There is jealousy, too, in both these plays. Shakspeare, 
 however, has developed this passion more finely. Both Don Lodowick and 
 Matthias are in love with Abigail, the Jew's daughter, and Barabas makes Don 
 Lodowick jealous of Matthias, and in turn Matthias jealous of Don Lodowick, 
 until he has created between them a deadly liate. Then comes the forged chal- 
 lenge by Barabas, in which they meet and kill each other. Roderigo and Othello 
 are in love with Desdemona, and lago makes Roderigo jealous of Othello, and 
 Othello is also aware that Roderigo wants Desdemona j Roderigo holds Othello 
 in his hate, for the very reason that he is rival in his love ; lago plans for 
 Roderigo and Othello to meet each other, with a view to a quarrel, so that 
 whoever of the two falls, his ends are met, as in the scene where lago enters 
 with Othello, Roderigo with Braubautio, the father of Desdemona, their swords 
 drawn. This, I consider, is a direct plot on the part of lago against the life of 
 Othello, Roderigo, or both. Another incident in act 1, scene 4, where there 
 enter three Jews :- - 
 
 1 Jew. Tush, tell not me 'twas done of policy. 
 
 2 Jew. Come, therefore, let us go to Barabas, &c. 
 
 The opening scene in Othello puts us in mind of the above lines, where 
 enter Roderigo and lago : — 
 
 Rod. Tush, never tell me I take it much unkindly that thou, lago, who 
 hast had my purse as if the strings were thine, &c. 
 
 The language Shakspeare puts in the mouth of lago when he is plotting 
 his villany, strikes us as being like the speeches of Barabas. We shall have 
 very little difficulty, I think, to discern lago in some of the following passages : — 
 
 Bar. Now I have such a plot for both their lives, 
 As never Jew nor Christian knew the like ; 
 One turned my daughter, therefore he shall die. 
 The other knows enough to have my life. 
 Therefore 'tis not requisite he should live 
 No more, but so it must and shall be done. 
 
 Again, act 2, scene 3 : — 
 
 Bar. So now I will go unto Lodowick, 
 And like a cunning spirit feign some lie, 
 Till I have set them both at enmity. 
 
 Another, act 3, scene 3 : — 
 
 Ith. Why, was there ever seen such villany, 
 So neatly plotted and so well performed ? 
 Both held in hand, and flatly b(jtli beguiled. 
 
 Again, act 4, scene 6 : — 
 
 Bar. Well, I must seek a means to rid 'em all, 
 And presently, fur in his villany 
 He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for it. 
 I have it ! 
 
 I will, in some disguise, go see the slave. 
 And how the villain revels with my gold.
 
 23 
 
 Again, act 5, scene 6 
 
 Bar. Why, is not this 
 A kingly kind of trade, to pixrchase towns 
 By treachery, and sell 'em by deceit ? 
 Now tell me, worldlings underneath the sun, 
 If greater falsehood ever has been done. 
 
 Again, act 5, scene 2 : — 
 
 Bar' Well, now about affecting 
 this device. 
 
 First, to surjjiise great Selim's sol- 
 diers. 
 
 And then to make provision for the 
 feast, 
 
 That at one instant all things may 
 
 be done. 
 My policy detests prevention 
 To what event my secret purpose 
 
 drives, 
 I know, and they shall witness with 
 
 their lives. 
 
 It has often occurred to me that the plot in the Jew of Malta 
 furnished hints for the one in Othello ; compare act 2, scene 1, 2, and 3, 
 in Othello, with act 2, scene 3, in the Jew of Malta. 
 
 Consider in the next place some of the leading incidents in the Merchant 
 of Venice, and those of the Jew of Malta. The relation Shylock bears to Barabaa 
 is more than some people would imagine, although the character of tlie Jew of 
 Malta is certainly overdrawn, and almost bordering on caricature ; on the other 
 hand, we admit, Shakspeare has drawm a character so true to nature in Shylock, 
 that possibly he may have profited much by this exaggeration of Marlowe, and 
 succeeded where he has failed. I shall notice this play under two or three different 
 aspects, first of all, the Jew of Malta, in the opening scene, begins with the 
 mention of shipping expeditions and merchandise ; Shakspeare, in the Merchant 
 of Venice, does the same. The speeches of the Jew of Malta are very fine, and 
 ob\aously suggested some of those in the Merchant of Venice ; for instance, the 
 speech of Barabas in act 2, scene 1, aa follows : — 
 
 Enter Barabas, with a light. 
 Bar. Thus, like the sad presaging 
 
 raven, that tolls 
 The sick man's passport in her hollow 
 
 beak. 
 And in the shadow of the silent night 
 Doth shake contagion from her 
 
 sable wings ; 
 Vexed and tormented runs poor 
 
 Barabas 
 With fatal curses towards these 
 
 Christians. 
 The uncertain pleasures of swift- 
 footed time 
 Have ta'en their flight, and left me 
 
 in despair ; 
 And of my former riches rests no 
 
 more 
 
 But bare remembrance, like a sol- 
 dier's scar, 
 
 That hath no further comfort for his 
 maim. 
 
 thou, that with the fiery pillar 
 led'st 
 
 The sons of Israel through the dis- 
 mal shades. 
 
 Light Abraham's ofiFspring ; and di- 
 rect the hand 
 
 Of Abigail this night; or let the day 
 
 Turn to eternal darkness after this : 
 
 No sleep can fasten on my watchful 
 eyes, 
 
 Nor quiet enter my distempered 
 thoughts. 
 
 Till I have answer of my Abigail.
 
 24 
 
 Again, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Bar. Thus trowls ovir fortune in 
 by laud and sea, 
 And thus on every side are we en- 
 riched. 
 
 These are the blessings promised to 
 the Jews, 
 
 And herein was old Abraham's hap- 
 piness. 
 
 In the Merchant of Venice, act 1, scene 4 : — 
 
 Shy. 0,' father Abraham, what these Christians are, 
 Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect the thoughts of others, &c. 
 
 Again, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Shy. When Jacob grazed his Uncle Laban's sheep, 
 This Jacob from our holy Abraham was, &c. 
 
 Again, act 2, scene 5 ; — 
 
 Shy. By Jacob's staff I swear 
 I have no mind of feasting forth to-night, &c. 
 
 That Shakspeare, after the manner of Marlowe, should make use in some 
 of Shylock's speeches the name of his father Abraham and his father Jacob, is, 
 I say, a coincidence, and goes to show that he had the speeches of Barabas in 
 his mind when he penned those of Shylock's. The incident where Barabas is 
 summoned to appear before the Council, Governor, and Officers of Malta, and 
 where they extort half of his wealth, and on his denying to pay they would 
 compel him to become a Christian, and on his refusing to become a Christian, 
 the whole of his property and wealth, according to the laws of Turkey are con- 
 fiscate to the state. The articles of the degrees of Turkey are — First : The 
 tribute money of the Turks shall all be levied amongst the Jews, and each of 
 them to pay one half of his estate. Second: He that denies to pay shall straight 
 become a Christian. Last : He that denies this ,<<hall absolutely lose all he has. 
 Shakspeare has made more of this incident than Marlowe, and introduced Shy- 
 lock's malice as the great moving cause in the degrees of Venice. Again, 
 Marlowe's Jew had an only daughter, who deserts him and would have married 
 with a Christian, but was prevented. Shylock had an only daughter, who runs 
 away from him and marrys with a Christian. The sudden hate which Barabas 
 bears to his daughter, after having been deceived by her, is the same in the 
 Merchant of Venice. The speeches about the money bags and his daughter, 
 there is a similar one in the Merchant of Venice. The Jew of Malta, act 1, 
 scene 2 : — 
 
 SCENE— MIDNIGHT. 
 Enter Abigail. 
 Ahig. Who's that? 
 Bar. Peace, Abigail, 'tis I. 
 Ahig. Then, father, here receive 
 thy happiness. 
 
 \^Throws doivn hags. 
 Bar. Hastthou't? 
 Ahig. Here \throics doicn the hags] 
 hast thou't ? 
 There's more, and more, and more. 
 Bar. Ob, my girl, 
 
 My gold, my fortune, my felicity ! 
 Strength to my soul, death to mir.e 
 
 enemy ! 
 Welcome the first beginner of my 
 
 bliss ! 
 Oh, Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee 
 
 here too ! 
 Then my desires were fully satisfied ; 
 But I will practice thy enlargement 
 
 thence : 
 Oh girl ! oh gold ! oh beauty I oh 
 
 my bliss. [Hugs his bags.
 
 25 
 
 Shakspeare's celebrated passage, act, 2, scene 6, runs thus ; — 
 
 Enter Saleriuo and Salanio. 
 Salan. I never heard a passion so 
 confused, 
 
 So strange, outrageous, and so variable 
 
 As the dog Jew did utter in the street. 
 
 My daughter ! my ducats ! my 
 daughter ! 
 
 Fled with a Christian ! my Christ- 
 ian ducats ! 
 
 Justice ! the law ! my ducats and 
 my daughter ! 
 
 Let us now point out a few passages without drawing any direct comparison 
 ■with those in the Merchant of Venice, although they are none the less suggestive. 
 Act 2, scene 4, as follows : — 
 
 A sealed bag, two sealed bags, of 
 
 ducats, 
 Of double ducats, stolen from me by 
 
 my daughter. 
 And jewels, two stones, two rich and 
 
 precious stones. 
 Stolen by my daughter ! Justice, 
 
 find the girl ! 
 She hath the stones upon her, and 
 
 the ducats. 
 
 Bar. As for the diamond, sir, I 
 told you of, 
 Come home, and there's no price 
 shall make us part. 
 
 Act 1, scene 5 : — 
 
 Bar. Aye, policy ! that's their pro- 
 fession, 
 
 And not simplicity, as they suggest. 
 
 The plagues of Egypt, and the curse 
 of heaven. 
 
 Earth's barrenness, and all men's 
 hatred 
 
 Inflict upon them, thou great Primus 
 
 Even for your honourable father's 
 
 sake. — 
 It shall go hard, but I will see your 
 
 death. [Aside. 
 
 Motor / 
 And here upon my knees, striking 
 
 the earth, 
 I ban their souls to everlasting pains 
 And extreme tortures of the fiery 
 
 deep. 
 That thus have dealt with me in my 
 
 distress. 
 
 Act 3, scene 5, (alluding to his daughter,) : — 
 
 Bar. For she that varies from me in belief, 
 Gives great presumption that she loves me not, 
 Or loving, doth dislike of something done. 
 
 Act 2, scene 3 : — 
 
 Bar. Oh, sir, your father had my 
 diamonds, 
 Yet I have one left that will serve 
 your tui"n : 
 
 Act 2, scene 6 : — 
 
 Bar. Give me the letters. Daugh- 
 ter, do you hear. 
 
 Entertain Lodowick the Governor's 
 son 
 
 With all the courtesy you can afford; 
 
 Use him as if he were a Philistine. 
 
 Dissemble, swear, protest, vow to 
 
 I mean my daughter : — but ere he 
 
 shall have her 
 I'll sacrifice her on a pile of wood. 
 I have the poison of the city for him, 
 And the white leprosy. [Aside. 
 
 love him, 
 He is not of the seed of Abraham. 
 
 [Aside. 
 I am a little busy, sir, pray pardon 
 
 me, 
 Abigail, bid him welcome for my
 
 26 
 
 Act 2, scene 6 : — 
 
 Bar. The account is made, for 
 Lodowick [he] dies. 
 
 My factor sends me word a mer- 
 chant's fled 
 
 That owes me for a hundred tun of 
 wine : 
 
 I weigh it this much [snappinrj his 
 finjers] ; I have wealth enough. 
 
 Act 5. — The Council Scene : — 
 
 Oov. Away with him, liis sight is 
 
 death to me. 
 Bai'. For what, you men of Malta? 
 hear me speak : 
 She is a courtesan, and he a thief, 
 And he my bondman. Let me have 
 law. 
 
 For now by this has he kissed 
 
 Abigail ; 
 And she vows love to him, and he 
 
 to her. 
 As sure as heaven rained manna for 
 
 the Jews, 
 So sure shall he and Don Mathias 
 
 die : 
 His father was my chiefest enemy. 
 
 For none of this can prejudice my 
 
 life. 
 Gov. Once more, away with him ; 
 
 you shall have law. 
 Bar. Devils, do your worst, I live 
 
 in spite of you. 
 
 Act 3, scene 1 : — 
 
 Bar. It's no sin to deceive a Christian, 
 For they themselves hold it a principle : 
 Faith is not to be held with heretics. 
 And all are heretics that are not Jews. 
 
 There is one more passage of great 
 for its malicious and subtle phraseology 
 Act 2, scene 3 : — 
 
 Bar. In spite of these swine-eat- 
 ing Christians, 
 (Unchosen nation, never circumcised; 
 Poor villains such as were ne'er 
 
 thought upon 
 Till Titus and Vespasian conquered 
 
 ua,) 
 Am I become as wealthy as I was ; 
 They hoped my daughter would have 
 
 been a nun ; 
 But she's at home, and I have bought 
 
 a house 
 As great and fair as is the Governor's; 
 And there, in spite of Malta, will I 
 
 dwell ; 
 Having Femeze's hand, whose heart 
 
 I'll have ; 
 Aye, and his son's too, or it shall go 
 
 hard. 
 I am not of the tribe of Levi, I 
 That can so soon forget an injury. 
 
 vigour, and is worthy of note ; which. 
 , would compare with those of Shylock, 
 
 We Jews can fawn like spaniels when 
 we please : 
 
 And when we grin we bite, yet are 
 our looks 
 
 As innocent and harmless as a lamb's. 
 
 I learned in Florence how to kiss my 
 hand, 
 
 Heave up my shoulders when they 
 call me dog. 
 
 And duck as low as any barefoot 
 friar. 
 
 Hoping to see them starve upon a 
 stall, 
 
 Or else be gathered for in our Syna- 
 gogue ; 
 
 That, \yhen the offering-basin comes 
 to me. 
 
 Even for charity I may spit into it. 
 
 Here comes Don Lodowick, the Gov- 
 ernor's son. 
 
 One that I love for his good father's 
 sake.
 
 27 
 
 Thi8 last speech of Barabaa Shaksjieare undoulitedly had in his mind when 
 he penned two in the Merchant uf Venice, the one beginning with the words, 
 
 How like a fawning publican he looks, &c. 
 
 The other beginning with the words, 
 
 Signior Antonio many time and oft, &c. 
 
 It is a remarkable thing that so many ideas in both of these plays should 
 be nearly the same. ]\Ir. Collier, in his history of dramatic poetry, " considers 
 that the Jew of Malta was written in 1589, and on such a point the opinion of 
 no other man is of equal weight. It seems the work of a writer grown confident, 
 not to say careless, by use and success, as may well have been the case of the 
 young author of Tamburlaine and Faustus, and had he carried out the last three 
 acts, as he was well capable of doing, with the same ability as the two first, he 
 would not only have drawn a Jew fit to be matched against Shylock, but have 
 written a play not much inferior to the Merchant of Venice." Hallam says : — 
 " Looking at the first two acts, the drama is more vigorously conceived, both 
 as to character and circumstance, than any other Elizabethian play, except those 
 of Shakspeare's." We cannot do better here than give the introductory notice 
 to Marlowe in his works, by Lieut. Col. Francis Cunningham, as follows ; — 
 " On the 26tli day of February, 1564, saj-s the register of the parish church of 
 St. (leorge the Martyr, in the ancient citj' of Canterbury, was christened Chris- 
 topher, the Sonne of John Marlowe ; and exactly two months afterwards, on 
 the 26th of April, 1564, the register of the church of Stratford-upon-Avon 
 records the baptism of Gulielmus, filius Johannis Shakspere. So few days 
 intervened between the births of these two children, one of whom was destined 
 to lead the way in showing what an English Play ought to be, and the other to 
 carry the English Drama to the highest conceivable pitch of excellence and 
 glory. But altlmugh they came into the world so nearly together, there was 
 an interval of many years between their deaths. Marlowe perished suddenly 
 before he was twenty-nine, and Shakspeare went quietly to his rest at the age 
 of fifty-two. Had their fates been reversed how different an aspect would our 
 literary history have borne. It is idle to speculate on what Marlowe might 
 have performed if twenty-three j-eara had been added to the narrow span of his 
 working existence ; Ijut it is quite safe to assert that, if Shakspeare had died 
 in 1593, the name, which now fills the whole wide world with its renown, must 
 have been content with a narrow niche in Specimens of Poets of the Age of 
 Elizabeth.* 
 
 Some writer has very adroitly put it that Marlowe was the schoolmaster, 
 and Shakspeare tlie scholar. The scholar, however, soon excelled the school- 
 master. Whatever truth there may be in such an observation, there can hardly be 
 fi doubt, I think, that the Jew of Malta furnished Shakspeare with hints both 
 for his Shylock and lago. When commencing to write for the stage, Shakspeare 
 t'lok to imiiroving old plays ; this he could do to perfection, for in the whole 
 of his works it is clear that he borrows a little and adds a great deal ; 
 and like a true artist, could improve upon any or every kind of invention, and 
 was an improver and creator in the highest sense of the word. Nor will hi.s 
 
 * " Marlowe was buried on June i, 1593, and there is reason to suppose that previous to 
 that year Shakspeare had done little more than improve the three parts of Henry l'/., (if 
 inileed he had touched the third part q{ Henry VI . at sU). and had written The 'J'-ivo Gentlemen 
 of I 'erona and The Comedy of Errors. His Richard II. has generally been assigned to the 
 year 1593." — Collier s Memoirs 0/ Alleyn, p. 10.
 
 28 
 
 reputation suffer by this fact being widely known, as it only tends to show 
 what scanty material he had in building up the English Drama. One good 
 central idea was sufficient for him to frame a play, grouping around that idea 
 incidents and characters, until it grew in his hands a great work, no matter 
 on what subject, either grave or gay. For instance, I believe the Tempest was 
 struck out in his mind from the account of Sir George Somers' Shipwreck 
 Crew upon the uninhabited island. There is good reason to suppose that in a 
 similar manner Hamlet had its rise in his mind, that is, from the Ghost Scene 
 in Homer's Iliad. Shakspeare, as is the rule with some writers, never com- 
 menced in any of his plays with his principal idea at once. 
 
 We come next to consider the incidents of the Twelfth Night, and judging 
 from two sources, Shakspeare must have derived much from both : the first is the 
 Philaster, and the other an Italian novel, entitled " II Sacriiicio." The Philaster, 
 on good authority, is asserted to have been written six years before the Twelfth 
 Night, and that it proved a great success to its authors. Shakspeare undoubt- 
 edly had tliis play in his mind up to the second act, while -vvriting the Twelfth 
 Night, especially the incident of Euphrasia, daughter of Dion, who is disguised 
 as a page, under the name of Bellario. As there are a number of scenes and 
 passages equally suggestive contained in this play, we cannot do better, I think, 
 than select one of these, from which the reader may judge of the rest. 
 Act 5, scene 5 : — 
 
 Bdl. My father oft would speak 
 Your worth and virtue, and as I did 
 
 grow 
 More and more apprehensive, I did 
 
 thirst 
 To see the man so praised, but yet ' 
 
 all this 
 Was but a maiden longing to be lost 
 As soon as found ; till, sitting by my 
 
 window, 
 Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw 
 
 a god 
 I thought, but it was you, enter our 
 
 gates. 
 My blood flew out and back again as 
 
 fast 
 As I had puffed it forth and sucked 
 
 it in 
 Like breath ; then was I call'd away 
 
 in haste 
 To entertain you. Never was a man 
 Heav'd from a sheepcote to a sceptre, 
 
 raised 
 So high in thoughts as I. You left 
 
 a kiss 
 Upon these lips then which I mean 
 
 to keep 
 From you for ever. I did he ir } ou 
 
 talk 
 
 Far above singing. After you were 
 
 gone 
 I grew acquainted with my lieart, 
 
 and search'd 
 What stirr'd it so ; alas ! I found it 
 
 love. 
 Yet far from lust, for could I but 
 
 have lived 
 In presence of you, I had had my end. 
 For this I did delude my noble father 
 With a feign'd pilgrimage, and 
 
 dress'd myself 
 In habit of a boy, and, (for I knew 
 My birth no match for j'ou), I was 
 
 past hope 
 Of having you, and understanding 
 
 ^^-ell 
 That when I made discovery of my 
 
 sex 
 I could not stay with you, I made a 
 
 vow 
 By all the most religious things a 
 
 maid 
 Could call together, never to be 
 
 known, 
 Whilst there was hope to hide me 
 
 frtjm men's eyes 
 For other than I seem'd, that I 
 
 might ever 
 Abide with you.
 
 29 
 
 Before bringing this little work to a close, compare one or two more pas- 
 sages of Shakspeare's with the following, in Edward II., act 4, scene 3 : — 
 
 point I touched, 
 And seeing there was no place to 
 
 mount up higher, 
 Why should I grieve at my declining 
 
 fall? 
 
 Ed. Base fortune ! now I see that 
 
 in thy wheel 
 There is a point, to which, when 
 
 men aspire, 
 They tumble head-long down. That 
 
 In Macbeth, act 1, scene 7, is a passage-very similar, thus :- 
 
 Like vaulting ambition, that o'erleaps itself, 
 And falls on th' other side. 
 
 Again, in Doctor Faustus, act 1, scene 2 : — 
 
 Faust. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attained that end ? 
 Are not thy bills hung up as monuments. 
 Whereby whole cities have escaped the plague ? 
 
 In Richard III act 1, scene 1 : — 
 
 Rich. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, 
 Our bruised arms hung up for monuments. 
 
 In the Massacre of Paris, act 1, scene 8 .• — 
 
 And sjDare not one that you suspect 
 
 of heresy. 
 And, now stay that bell 
 That to the devil's [midnight] matins 
 
 rings. 
 Now every man put off his burgonet, 
 And so convey him closely to his bed. 
 
 Guise. And now for this night let 
 
 our fury stay. 
 Yet Avill we not the massacre shall 
 
 end : 
 Gonzago, post you to Orleans, 
 lletes to Dieppe, Mountsorrell unto 
 
 Rouen, 
 
 Othello, act 2, scene 3, thus :— 
 
 0th. He that stirs next, to carve for his own rage, 
 Holds his soul light, he dies upon his motion. 
 Silence that dreadful bell ! it frights the isle 
 From her propriety. 
 
 I allude in the former passage to this line " Silence that dreadful bell, &c." 
 
 Dido, Queen of Carthage, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Jup. I will take order for that presently. 
 
 In Othello, act 5, scene 3 : — 
 
 0th. No ; his mouth is s^topp'd. 
 Honest lago hath ta'en order for it. 
 
 The Jew of Malta, act 2, scene 1 : — 
 
 Bur. But stay, what star shines yonder in the east ? 
 The load star of my life, if Abigail. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, act 2, scene 2 : — 
 
 Romeo. But sfift ; what light through yonder window breaks ? 
 It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
 
 30 
 
 In Edward II., act 4, scene 4 : — 
 
 Ed. Gallop apace, bright Phoebus, through the sky, 
 And dusty night, in rusty iron car; 
 Between you both, shorten the time, I pray, 
 That I may see that most desired day, 
 When we may meet those traitors in the field. 
 
 Again, in Hero and Leander, page 19S : — 
 
 Incens'd with savage heat, gallop amain. 
 
 Shakspeare must have been thinking of one of these passages when L» 
 wrote : 
 
 Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, 
 Towards Phcebus' lodgings. 
 
 In the 1st book of Lucan, page 285, as follows : — 
 The earth went off her hinges, and the Alps 
 Shook the old snow from ofi' their trembling laps. 
 
 The above is one of Marlowe's mighty lines. The whole passage, sayB m 
 writer, is so very grandly rendered, so grandly, indeed, that Shakspeare, who 
 evidently had it in his mind, has not excelled it in the speech of Calphurnia, or 
 its echo in Hamlet. In Dido, Queen of Carthage, act 3, scene 2 : — 
 
 Juno. Tut, I am simple without mind to hurt. 
 And have no gall at all to grieve my foes. 
 
 In Hamlet, act 2, scene 4 : — 
 
 Hamlet. Why should I take it ? for it cannot be. 
 But I am pigeon liver'd, and lack gall 
 To make oppression bitter. 
 
 In the Jew of Malta, act 5, scene 4 : — 
 
 Bar. And thus far, roundly goes the business. 
 Thus, loving neither, will I live with both, 
 Making profit of my policy ; 
 And he from whom my most advantage comes 
 Shall be my friend ; 
 This is the life we Jews are used to lead. 
 
 Othello, act 1, scene .3, is almost a corresponding passage, in the soliloquy 
 uf lago, beginning with the words, 
 
 Thus do I ever make mj' fools my purse, &c. 
 
 In tiie Jew of Mtdta, act 2, scene 5 : — 
 
 Bar. I would you were his father too, sir ; 
 That's all the haini 1 wish you. The slave looks 
 Like a hog's cheek, new singed. [Ankle. 
 
 Lod. Whither walk'st thou, Baiabas ? 
 
 Bar. Xo further ; 'tis a custom held with us. 
 That when we s[)eak with Gentiles like to you, 
 We turn into the air to purge ourselves : 
 For unto us the promise doth belong.
 
 31 
 
 Merchant of Venice, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Bass. If it please j'ou to'dine with us. 
 
 Shy. Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the habitation wliich your prophet, 
 the Nazarite, conjured the devil into. I will buy with you, sell with you, 
 talk with you, walk with you, and so following, but I will not eat with you, 
 drink with you, nor pray with you. 
 
 Although there is a great difference in these two passages, yet the one 
 probably suggested the other. In Hamlet, act 1, scene 2, we have the follow- 
 ing discourse, respecting the personal appearance of the ghost : — 
 
 Hamlet. Armed, say you ? 
 
 All. Armed, my lord. 
 
 Hamlet. From top to toe ? 
 
 All. My lord, from head to foot. 
 
 Hamlet. Then saw you not his face ? 
 
 Horatio. Oh yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. 
 
 Hamlet. What, looked he frowningly ? 
 
 Horatio. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. 
 
 Hamlet. Pale or red ? 
 
 Horatio. Nay, very pale. 
 
 Hamlet. And fixed his eyes upon you ? 
 
 Horatio. Most constantly. 
 
 Hamlet. I would I had been there. 
 
 Horatio. It would have much amazed you. 
 
 Hamlet. Very like ; stayed it long ? 
 
 Horatio. While one with moderate haste might count a hundred. 
 
 Hamlet. His beard was grizzled ? no ? 
 
 Hvratio. It was as I have seen it in his life, a sable silvered. 
 
 Hamlet. I will watch to-night, perchance 'twill walk again. 
 
 Horatio. I warrant it will. 
 
 The above lines are likely to have been suggested by the two following 
 passages in Homer's Iliad, Chapman's translation, 23rd book, page 226, thus : — 
 
 That, bej-ond 
 His resolution not to sleep, Sleep cast his sunden bond 
 Over his sense, and loos'd his care. Then of his wretched friend 
 The Soul appear'd ; at ev'ry part the form did comprehend 
 His likeness ; his fair eyes, his voice, his stature, ev'ry weed 
 His person wore, it fantasied. 
 
 Again, in book 2, page 29 : — 
 
 Hear friends : A Dream divine. 
 Amidst the calm night in my sleep, did through my shut eyes shine. 
 Within my fantasy. His form did passing naturally 
 Resemble Nestor ; such attire, a stature just as high. 
 He stood above my head, and words thus fashion'd, &c. 
 
 In the 24th book of the Iliad, page 268 :— 
 
 This done, his women threw 
 The coat and cloak on ; but the corse Achilles' own hand laid 
 Upon a bed, and with his friends to chariot it convey'd. 
 For which forc'd grace, abhorring so from his free mind, he wept,
 
 32 
 
 Cried out for anger, and thus pray'd : " friend, do not except 
 
 Against this favour to our foe, if in the deep tliou hear. 
 
 And that I give him to his sire ; he gave fair ransom ; dear 
 
 In my observance is Jove's will ; and whatsoever part 
 
 Of all these gifts by any mean I fitly may convert 
 
 To thy renown here, and will there, it shall be pour'd upon 
 
 Thy honour'd sepulchre. 
 
 Hamlet, act 1, scene 6 : — 
 
 Hamlet. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. 
 
 Ghost beneath. Swear ! 
 
 Hamlet. Ha ! ha ! boy, say'st thou so ? art thou there, true penny ? 
 Come on, you 'lear this fellow in the cellarage. 
 Consent to swear. 
 
 Horatio. ProjDose the oath, my lord. 
 
 Hamlet. Never to sj^eak of this that you have seen. 
 Swear by my sword. 
 
 Ghost hencnth. Swear ! 
 
 Hamlet. Hie et uhique, then we will shift our ground. 
 Come hither, gentlemen, and lay j^our hands again upon my sword. 
 Swear by my sword never to speak of this that you have heard. 
 
 Ghost hcneath. Swear h\ his sword. 
 
 Hamlet. Well said, old mole, cau'st work i' the earth so fast? 
 A worthy pioneer once more remove, good friends. 
 
 Horatio. day ! night ! but this is wond'rous strange. 
 
 Hamlet. Rest, rest perturbed spirit. 
 
 In Dido, Queen of Carthage, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 ^n. Hold ; take this candle, and go light a fire, 
 You shall liave leaves and windfall boughs enow 
 Near to the woods, to roast your meat withal ; 
 Ascanius, go and Arj thy di-ench^d limbs. 
 While I with my Achates roam abroad. 
 To know what coast the wind hath driven us on, 
 Or whether men or beasts inhabit it. 
 
 Acha. The air is pleasant, and the soil most fit 
 For cities, and society's supports ; 
 Yet much I marvel that I cannot find 
 No steps of men imprinted on the earth. 
 
 Venus interposes here, and in answer to her question : — 
 
 ^n. Of Troy am I, .^Eneas is my name ; 
 Who, driven by war from forth my native world, 
 Put sails to sea to seek out Italy ; 
 And my divine descent, from scejitred Jove : 
 With twice twelve Phrygian ships I ploughed the deep. 
 And made that way my mother Venus led ; 
 But of them all scarce seven do anchor safe. 
 And they so wracked and weltered by the waves, 
 As every tide tilts 'twixt their oaken sides ; 
 And all of them, unburthened of their load. 
 Are ballassed with billows' watery weight.
 
 33 
 
 But hapless I, God wot, poor and unknown, 
 
 Do trace these Libj-an deserts all despised, * 
 
 Exiled forth Europe and wide Asia both, 
 
 And have not any coverture but heaven. 
 
 Ven. Fortune hath favoured thee, whate'er thou be. 
 In sending thee unto this courteous coast : 
 In God's name, on ! and haste thee to the court, 
 Where Dido will receive ye with her smiles ; 
 And for thy ships, which thou supposest lost, 
 Not one of them hath perished in the storm. 
 But are arrived safe, not far from hence ; 
 And so I leave thee to thy fortune's lot. 
 Wishing good luck unto thy wandering steps. 
 
 May not these have suggested the following passages in the Tempest, act 
 1, scene 1 ; — 
 
 Prospero. 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 ordered, that there is no soul. 
 No, not so much perdition as an hair, 
 Betid to any creature in the vessel 
 Which thou heard' st cry, which thou saw'st sink. 
 
 Again, in act 1, scene 4 : — 
 
 Prospero. But are they, Ariel, safe ? 
 
 Ariel. Not a hair perished. 
 On their sustaining garments not a blemish, 
 But fresher than before. 
 
 Prospero. Of the king's ship 
 The mariners say how thou hast disposed. 
 And all the rest o' the fleet. 
 
 Ariel. Safely in the harbour 
 Is the king's ship, in the deep nook — where once 
 Thou call'st me up at midnight to fetch dew 
 From the still vex'd Bermoothes — there she's hid. 
 The mariners all under hatches stowed. 
 Whom, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour, 
 I have left asleep ; and for the rest o' the fleet 
 Which I dispersed, tlaey 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. 
 
 In Doctor Faustus, act 1, scene 3 : — 
 
 Faustus [to Meph.] I charge thee to wait upon me whil'st I live 
 To do whatever Faustus shall command : 
 Be it to make the moon drop from her sphere, 
 Or the ocean to overwhelm the world.
 
 34 
 
 These lines must liave been lingering in the mind of Shakspeare when he 
 makes Ariel exclaim in the Tempest, act 1, scene 4 : — 
 
 Ariel, [to Prospero.] I come to answer thy best pleasure, be't to fly, 
 To swim, to dive, into the fire to ride, 
 On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding, ta^k 
 Ariel and all his quality. 
 
 The Midsummer Night's Dream, act 2, scene 2. Puck, in describing his 
 own character, says to one of the fairies : — 
 
 Thou speak'st aright ; 
 I am that merry wanderer of the night. 
 I jest to Oberon, and make him smile. 
 When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, 
 Neigliing in likeness of a filly-foal. 
 And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl, 
 In very likeness of a roasted crab ; 
 And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, 
 And on her wither'd dew lap pour the ale. 
 The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale. 
 Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me ; 
 Then slip I from her bum, down topples she. 
 And tailor cries, and falls into a cough, 
 And then the whole quire hold their hips and loffe. 
 And waxen in their mu'th, and sneeze, and swear, 
 A merrier hour was never wasted there. 
 
 Compare this passage with one in Chapman's Odyssey, book 4, page 91. 
 Idothea, a sea-spirit, describes Proteus in these terms : — ■» 
 
 He then will turn himself to every one 
 Of all things that in earth creep and respire, 
 In water swim, or shine in heavenly fire. 
 First he is a lion, with a mighty mane. 
 Then next a dragon — a pied panther then. 
 A vast boar next, and suddenly will strain 
 All into water. Last he will be a tree, 
 Curl'd all at top, and shot up to the sky. 
 
 Both the creations of these poets, Puck and Proteus, shift about at pleasure 
 animating other existences. Whether Shakspeare had Proteus in his mind when 
 he penned these lines, may be open to question, although there does seem some 
 likeness in the ideas. 
 
 Middleton has a line in his Witch Scene, as follows : — 
 
 His picture made in wax, and gently molten by a blue fire kindled with 
 dead men's eyes. 
 
 There is an idea very similar in Midsummer Night's Dream, act 3, scene 
 2, in the speech of Titania with her fairies, thus : — 
 
 And light them at the fiery glow worm's eyes, &c. 
 
 There is another line in this play which may have suggested a passage in 
 Macbeth, as follows : —
 
 35 
 
 Heccat. Can j-ou doubt me then, daughter, that can make mountains 
 tremble, miles of wood walk, &c. 
 In Macbeth, act 4, scene 2, thus : — 
 
 Apparition. Macbeth will never vanquished be, until 
 Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill 
 Shall come against him. 
 
 The Jew of Malta, act 1, scene 4 : — 
 
 Ahifjail. Then, Father, go ^vith me. 
 
 Barabas. N(J, Al)igail ; in this 
 It is not necessary I be seen, 
 For I will seem offended with thee for't. 
 Be close, my girl, fur this must fetch my gold. 
 
 Othello, act 1, scene 2 : — 
 lago [to Roderigo.] Farewell ! for I must leave you. 
 It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place, 
 To be produced, as if I stay I shall. 
 Against the Moor. 
 
 The Jew of Malta, act 1, scene 2 : — 
 
 Barahas. \Vliat ? bring you scripture to confirm your wrongs ? 
 Preach me not out of my possessions. 
 
 Shakspeare may have been thinking of this line when he wrote : — 
 The devil can quote scripture for his purpose. 
 
 In the 20th book of Chapman's Iliad, page 178 : — 
 
 This Jove-got Dardanus 
 Beaiot king Erichthouius, for wealth past all compares 
 Of living moi-tals ; in his fens he fed three thousand mares, 
 All neighing by their tender foals, of which twice-six were bred 
 By lofty Boreas, their dams lov'd by him as they fed, 
 He took the brave form of a horse that shook an azure mane. 
 And slept with them. These twice-six colts had pace so swift, they ran 
 Upon the top-ayles of corn-ears, nor bent them any whit ; 
 And when the broad back of the sea their pleasure wa.s to sit. 
 The superficies of his waves they slid upon, their hoves 
 Not dipp'd in dank sweat of his brows. 
 
 These horses of Boreas are very fanciful and antic spirits. Shakspeare's 
 creation of Puck may have arisen from Homer's Apollo, and Boreas, this sj)iiit 
 of the ^^'ind. He must have been thinking of these lines, however, when he 
 penned the following, in Midsummer Night's Dream, act 1, scene 2 : — 
 
 Puch. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, 
 "Wlien I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile. 
 Neighing in likeness of a filly-foal. 
 
 Titania, [to Ob.] But I know when thou hast stolen away from fairy land. 
 
 And in the shape of Corin sat all day 
 
 Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love to amorous Phillida.
 
 36 
 
 The 24th book of the Iliad, page 257 : — v 
 
 And now to holy Ilion Satiirnius Iris sent : 
 " Go, smft-foot Iris, bid Troy's king bear fit gifts, and content 
 Achilles for his son's release." 
 
 This said, the Rainbow to her feet tied whirlwinds, and the place 
 Reach'd instantly. 
 
 Again, Mercury, as a swift-foot messenger, is described thus, page 261 : — 
 
 This charge incontinent he put in practice. 
 To his feet his feather'd shoes he tied, 
 
 Immortal, and made all of gold, with which he us'd to ride 
 The rough sea, and th' unmeasur'd earth, and equall'd in his pace the puffs 
 of wind. 
 
 In Midsummer Night's Dream, act 2, scene 3 : — 
 
 Puclc. I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes. 
 
 The Tempest, act 4, scene 2 : — 
 
 Ariel. Before you can say come and go, 
 I drink the air before me, and return. 
 Or e'er your pulse twice beats. 
 
 W G. PROVERBS, STEAM PRINTING WORKS, LEDSAM STREET, BIRMINGHAM.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-50n!-4,'61(B8994s4)444 
 
 IMJi LlBiCA
 
 <MiH( i;', HI (,iii'jAi 1 ihi-;;.n,' i;,i 
 
 AA 000 369 226 6 
 
 PR 
 29^2 
 
 ?6kn