To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forced your honour and your love.
Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I'm sure you cannot give.

Val. How like a dream is this I see and hear!

Love, lend me patience to forbear a while. [Aside.
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But, by my coming, I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most un-

happy.

Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your pre[Aside.

sence.

Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, I would have been a breakfast to the beast, Rather than have false Proteus rescue me. O, heaven be judge, how I love Valentine, Whose life's as tender' to me as my soul; And full as much (for more there cannot be) I do detest false perjur'd Proteus:

Therefore begone, solicit me no more.

Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now? what is

the matter? Look up; speak.

Jul. O good sir, my master charg'd me to deliver a ring to Madam Silvia; which, out of my neglect was never done.

Pro. Where is that ring, boy?
Jul. Here 'tis: this is it,

[Gives a ring.

Pro. How! let me see why this is the ring I gave to Julia.

Jul. O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook; this is the ring you sent to Silvia. [Shows another ring. Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? at my

depart, I gave this unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me;
And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
Pro. How! Julia!

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
And entertain'd them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root?

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!

death,

Would I not undergo for one calm look?
O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.

Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's be

lov'd.

Valentine!

Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love:

It is the lesser blot modesty finds,

Women to change their shapes, than men their

minds.

Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,

Val, Thou common friend, that's without faith or Banished Valentine.

love,

(For such is a friend now,) treacherous man!

Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me: Now I dare not say

Ihave one friend alive; thou would'st disprove me.
Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand
perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus,
I am sorry I must never trust thee more,

Bat count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deepest: O time most accurst!
Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst!
Pro. My shame and guilt confound me.-

Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

tender it here; I do as truly suffer,

c'er I did commit.

approe'd is confirm'd by proof.

• The word now was supplied in the folio of 1632.

4 Stevens confounded the phrases of to cry aim Ty Wives of Windsor, Act iii. Sc. 2) and to gire both terms in archery. He who gave aim appears ave been called the mark, and was stationed near the to inform the archers how near their arrows fell to bad. We are indebted to Mr. Gifford for distinguish the terms. Vide Massinger, vol. ii. p. 27. Julia to say that she was the mark that gave direction

I hold him but a fool, that will endanger
Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
His body for a girl that loves him not:
I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.

Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such means for her as thou hast done,
And leave her on such slight conditions.-
Now, by the honour of my ancestry,

I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,

And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.-
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,
To which I thus subscribe, -Sir Valentine,

5 i. e. of her heart, the allusion to archery is continued, and to cleaving the pin in shooting at the butts.

6 "Verona shall not hold thee," is the reading of the only authentic copy. Theobald proposed the reading, "Milan shall not behold thee," which has been adopted by all subsequent editors, but there is no authority for the change. If the reading is erroneous, Shakspeare must be held accountable for this as well as some other errors in his early productions.

7 "To make such means for her," to make such in. terest for, to take such disingenuous pains about her

Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd;
Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.

Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made me
happy.

I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,
To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.

Duke. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be.
Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,

Are men endued with worthy qualities;
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile:
They are reformed, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment, worthy lord.

[In this play there is a strange mixture of knowledge and ignorance, of care and negligence. The versification is often excellent, the allusions are learned and just; but the author conveys his heroes by sea from one inland town to another in the same country; he places the em peror at Milan, and sends his young men to attend him, but never mentions him more; he makes Proteus, afier an interview with Silvia, say he has only seen her pic. ture; and, if we may credit the old copies, he has, by mistaking places, left his scenery inextricable. The reason of all this confusion seems to be, that he took his story from a novel, which he sometimes followed, and sometimes forsook, sometimes remembered, and sometimes forgot.

That this play is rightly attributed to Shakspeare. I Duke. Thou hast prevail'd: I pardon them, and have little doubt. If it be taken from him, to whom shall it be given? This question may be asked of all the disputed plays, except Titus Andronicus; and it will be found more credible, that Shakspeare might sometimes sink below his highest flights, than that any other should rise up to his lowest.

thee;
Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts.
Come, let us go; we will include all jars1
With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

Val. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
With our discourse to make your grace to smile:
What think you of this page, my lord?

Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he

blushes.

JOHNSON.

Johnson's general remarks on this play are just, ex-
cept that part in which he arraigns the conduct of the
poet, for making Proteus say he had only seen the pic-
ture of Silvia, when it appears that he had had a per-
sonal interview with her. This however is not a blunder
of Shakspeare's, but a mistake of Johnson's, who con
siders the passage alluded to in a more literal sense than
the author intended it. Sir Proteus, it is true, had seen
Silvia for a few moments; but though he could form--
from thence some idea of her person, he was still unac.
quainted with her temper, manners, and the qualities of
her mind. He therefore considers himself as having seen
her picture only. The thought is just, and elegantly
expressed. So, in The Scornful Lady, the elder Love-
less says to her:

I was mad once, when I loved pictures;
For what are shape and colours else, but pictures?
M. MASON.]

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

PRELIMINARY

A FEW of the incidents of this Comedy might have been taken from an old translation of Il Pecorone di Giovanni Fiorentino. The same story is to be met with in The Fortunate, the Deceived, and the Unfortunate Lovers, 1632. A somewhat similar one occurs in the Piaceroli Notti di Straparola. Notte iv. Farola iv. The adventures of Falstaff seem to have been taken from the story of the lovers of Pisa in 'Tarleton's Newes out of Purgatorie, bl. l. no date, but entered on the Stationers' books in 1590. The fishwife's tale, in Westward for Smelts, a book from which Shakspeare borrowed part of the fable of Cymbeline, probably led him to lay the Scene at Windsor.

Mr. Malone thinks that the following line in the earliest edition of this comedy, Sail like my pinmace to those golden shores,' shows that it was written after Sir Walter Raleigh's return from Guiana in 1596.

The first edition of the Merry Wives of Windsor was printed in 1602, and it was probably written in 1601, after the two parts of King Henry IV. being, as it is said, composed at the desire of Queen Elizabeth, in order to exhibit Falstaff in love, when all the pleasantry which he could afford in any other situation was exhausted.

It may not be thought so clear that it was written after King Henry V. Nym and Bardolph are hoth hanged in that play, yet appear in Merry Wives of Windsor,

* This story seems to have been first mentioned by Dennis in the Dedication to his alteration of this play, under the title of The Comical Gallant. This Comedy,' says he, 'was written at Queen Elizabeth's command, and by her direction, and she was so eager to see it acted that she commanded it to be finished in fourteen days; and was afterwards, as tradition tells us, very well pleased at the representation. The information probably came originally from Dryden, who, from his intimacy with Sir W. Davenant, had opportunities of learning many particulars concerning Shak.

REMARKS.

Falstaff is disgraced in King Henry IV. Part ii. and dies
in King Henry V. Yet in the Merry Wives of Windser
he talks as if he was still in favour at court.
should come to the ear of the court how I have been
transformed," &c. and Page discountenances Fenton's
addresses to his daughter, because he kept company
with the wild Prince and with Poins. These circum-
stances seem to favour the supposition that this play was
written between the first and second parts of King Hen-
ry IV. But that it was not written then may be collected
from the tradition above mentioned. The truth, proba-
bly is, that though it ought to be read (as Dr. Johnson ob-
served,) between the second part of Henry IV. and Herry
V. it was written after King Henry V. and after Shak-
speare had killed Falstaff. In obedience to the roval
commands, having revived him, he found it necessary
at the same time to revive all those persons with when
he was wont to be exhibited; Nym, Bardolph, Pistch
and the Page: and disposed of them as he found it
convenient without a strict regard to their situations of
catastrophes in former plays.

Mr. Malone thinks that The Merry Wives of Windent was revised and enlarged by the author after its fir production. The old edition, in 1602, like that of Romer and Juliet, he says, is apparently a rough draught ata not a mutilated or imperfect copy. The precise time when the alterations and additions were made has a been ascertained: some passages in the enlarged copy may assist conjecture on the subject, but nothing deci sive can be concluded from such evidence.

This comedy was not printed in its present form til 1623, when it was published with the rest of Shak speare's plays in folio. The imperfect copy of 1602 wa again printed in 1619.

+ Mr. Boaden thinks that the chasms which occur is the story of the drama in this old copy afford evidene that it was imperfectly taken down during the represen

good do it your good heart! I wished your venison better; it was ill kill'd:-How doth good mistress Page?-and I love you always with my heart, la; with my heart.

Shal. Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do.
Page. I am glad to see you, good master Slender.
Slen. How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I

Shal. That he will not; -'tis your fault, 'tis your Edward shovel-boards, that cost me two shilling

Shal. If it be confess'd, it is not redress'd; is not that so, master Page? He hath wrong'd me; indeed he hath; at a word, he hath;-believe me;-Ro-hook's humour on me; that is the very note of it.

How now, Simple! where have you been? I must wait on myself, must I? You have not The Book of Riddles about you, have you?

Sim. Book of Riddles! why, did you not lend it | Go, sirrah, for all you are my man, go, wait upon

to Alice Shortcake upon Allhallowmas last, a fortnight afore Michaelmas?1

Shal. Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. A word with you, coz marry this, coz: There is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by Sir Hugh here; -Do you understand me?

Slen. Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if it be so, I shall do that that is reason.

Skel. Nay, but understand me.

Sien. So I do, sir.

Era. Give ear to his motions, master Slender: I will description the matter to you, if you be capacity

of it.

Slen. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says: I pray you, pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his country, simple though I stand here.

Eva. But this is not the question; the question is concerning your marriage.

Shal. Av, there's the point, sir.

Evz. Marry, is it; the very point of it; to mistress Anne Page.

Slen. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any reasonable demands.

Erz. But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command to know that of your mouth, or of your las; for divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth; Therefore, precisely, can you carry your good will to the maid?

Shal. Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love ber?

Sen. I hope, sir,-I will do as it shall become me that would do reason.

Eva. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies, you must speak possitable, if you can carry her your desires towards her.

Saal. That you must: Will you, upon good dowry, marry her?

Slen. I will do a greater thing than that, upon your request, cousin, in any reason.

Shal. Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz; at I do is to pleasure you, coz: Can you love the

Slea. I will marry her, sir, at your request; but if there he no great love in the beginning, yet heaFen may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married, and have more occasion to know another: I hope upon familiarity will grow more

tempt: but if you say, marry her, I will marry Let, I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely. Eta. It is a ferv discretion answer; save the faul' is in the 'ort dissolutely: the 'ort is, according to ir meaning, resolutely; his meaning is good. Sial. Av, I think my cousin meant well.

Sun. Ay, or else I would I might be hanged, la.

my cousin Shallow3 [Erit SIMPLE.] A justice of peace sometimes may be beholden to his friend for a man: -I keep but three men and a boy yet, till my mother be dead: But what though? yet I live like a poor gentleman born.

Anne. I may not go in without your worship: they will not sit till you come.

Slen. I'faith, I'll eat nothing; I thank you as much as though I did.

Anne. I pray you, sir, walk in.

5

Slen. I had rather walk here, I thank you: I bruised my shin the other day with playing at sword and dagger with a master of fence, three veneys for a dish of stewed prunes; and, by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since. Why do your dogs bark so? be there bears i' the town?

Anne. I think there are, sir; I heard them talk

ed of.

not do you that wrong.

Anne. I pray you, sir.

Slen. I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome:

[Exeunt.

you do yourself wrong, indeed, la.
SCENE II. The same. Enter SIR HUGH EVANS
and SIMPLE.

Eva. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius'

house, which is the way: and there dwells one mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer.

Simp. Well, sir.

Eva. Nay, it is petter yet: give her this letter; for it is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with mistress Anne Page; and the letter is, Sis. Here comes fair mistress Anne:-Would to desire and require her to solicit your master's

Re-enter ANNE PAGE.

Ivere young for your sake, mistress Anne!
Aane. The dinner is on the table; my father de-

your worships' compan".
Sal. I will wait on him, f ir mistress Anne.
Era. Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at
De grace.

[Excunt SHALLOW and SIR H. EVANS. Arre. Will't please your worship to come in, sir? Sien. No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily; I am rery well.

dare. The dinner attends you, sir.

Slen. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth: 1 Tris is an intendal blinder. Theobald would in ber sadness have corrected it to Marilenas.

e. part, a lawtwrm, often used in conjunction ds synonyme.

I was formerly the custom in England for persons mended at dinner by their own servants wherever

*r dued.

Master of fence here signifies not merely a fencingter, but a person who had taken his master's dein the science. There were three degrees, a mas& provost's, and a scholar's. For each of these a was played with various weapons, in some open or square. Tarlton the player was allowed a ster on the 231 of October, 1987, 'he being ordinary

desires to mistress Anne Page: I pray you, be gone. I will make an end of my dinner; there's pippins and cheese to come. Exeunt. SCENE III. A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF, HOST, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN.

Fal. Mine host of the Garter,

Host. What says my bully-rook? Speak scholarly, and wisely.

Fal. Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my followers.

grome of her majesty's chamber. The unfortunate Robert Greene played his master's prize at Leadenhall with three weapons, &c. The MS. from which this information is derived is a Register belonging to some of the Schools of the noble Science of Defence, among the Sloane MSS.-Brit. Mus. No. 2530, xxvi. D.

5 Veney, or Venue, Fr. a touch or hit in the body at fencing, &c.