read Fletcher with attention.—Mr. Steevens ranks this play in the same list with Locrine, London Prodigal, Sir John Oldcastle, and the other plays ascribed to Shakespeare by catalogues and editions, whose authority has not been sufficient to gain the several pieces there mentioned a place among the dramas at present received as Shakespeare's; and except the posthumous title-page of 1634, there is indeed no kind of authority. II. III. IV. Seward is very fond of the idea of Fletcher's BEST manner resembling Shakespeare's SECOND-BEST; but we cannot help thinking it childish to account the poetry of those scenes which he cites, Shakespeare's SECOND-BEST. Whether they were his work or Fletcher's, they are most excellent; and might have been produced by either, or by Beaumont. That Shakespeare is, taken altogether, superior to our authors, is certain; but there often occur passages in their plays far beyond the promise of the subject, and equal to the pen of any writer ancient or modern; as may be evinced by numberless passages in Philaster, the Maid's Tragedy, King and no King, Bonduca, Wife for a Month, Cupid's Revenge, &c. &c. &c. notwithstanding what is above quoted from the Preface of that great man, Mr. Pope. V. In our opinion, there is more ease, spirit, and nature, in the description in the Midsummer-Night's Dream, than in that of the Two Noble Kinsmen. However, if it be otherwise, Fletcher has confessedly so much poetical merit, that to attribute his most exquisite beauties to Shakespeare, is doing him an injury. And in this injury we are sorry to find Dr. Farmer has taken part, who, speaking of Emilia's fine comparison of a maid to a rose, which he highly praises, says, 'I have no doubt those lines were written by Shakespeare.' And because the speech of Theseus, p. 396, is particularly beautiful, Seward thinks that it looks 'extremely like the hand of Shakespeare." VI. Though there is much poetical fancy in the phrensy of the Jailor's Daughter, we cannot with Mr. Seward think it equal to the natural madness painted by Shakespeare. Like the assumed distraction of Hamlet and Edgar, 'Tho' this be madness, yet there's method in't;' more apparent method than in the drawing of Ophelia and Lear. VII. VIII. IX. Nothing need be said of the DOUBTS. X. XI. What is here said, tending to invalidate Shakespeare's claim, is apart from the argument; but we may, however, just remark, that there are many speeches in Shakespeare, as much abounding with learned allusions as any part of Theseus's address. XII. That the play was wrote in conjunction,' we will readily suppose; but no kind of information can be derived from either prologue or epilogue, who the associate was. We have now gone through all that Mr. Seward had said on this subject; wherein we cannot find one plausible argument for ascribing to Shakespeare any part of the Two Noble Kinsmen; which certainly abounds with the peculiar beauties and defects that distinguish the rest of this collection, and should, in our opinion, (if a joint work) be attributed to the same authors. There are too, many particular passages and expressions in this play, which bear a striking similarity to others wrote between them: of this sort are TRACE, and turn boys! p. 410: on the saine mob-occasion, the same expression occurs in Philaster. In that play too, the Prince talks of discoursing from a pyramid, to all the under-world: So here, p. 419, Emilia says, in one of the most beautiful passages of the play, Fame and Honour, And various others might be quoted. Writers often unknowingly copy themselves, as well as other authors; and tho' it might here be answer'd, that Fletcher is allowed to have wrote in both, and the similar passages may be his; yet Beaumont (who had a great share in Philaster) is as likely to have produced them in both as his associate. And (what is rather remarkable) it will appear to my attentive reader, that the chief similarities are to pieces in which Beaumont is universally allowed to have been connected, not where his assistance is doubted. Had Shakespeare been considered as one of the joint authors, is it not natural to suppose, that a play of so much excellence would have found a place in the collection of his Dramas published by Hemings and Condell? But they have neither admitted the piece, nor taken the least notice of Shakespeare's being at all concerned in it. We must not, indeed, rest too much upon this, as it is certain they omitted Troilus and Cressida, a play, however, of much less eminence: on the whole, we think that there ought to be more authority than an uncertain tradition, to take the credit of this play from Beaumont and Fletcher, the joint authors of so many other excellent dramas, written very much in the stile and spirit of the play before us. Place Shakespeare's name before several other of these dramas, how many criticks, like Seward, would labour to ascertain the particular passages that came from his hand! THE TRAGEDY OF THIERRY AND THEODORET. The first edition of this Play was printed in quarto, 1621, without the name of either Author. The edition of 1648, ascribes it to Fletcher; and that of 1649, to both writers. Dr. Hyde, in the Bodleian Catalogue, assigns it to Ben Jonson, without any authority whatever. It was formerly performed frequently, but of late years has been entirely laid aside. Tax me with these hot tainters?] Theobald would read, hot TAINTS. The oldest quarto exhibits tointurs; we therefore prefer taintures; and though we do not remember meeting with the word, it is more expressive of the sense of taints (here required) than tainters. Dare Dare term ambitious; all your ways hide sores Opening in the end to nothing but ulcers2. Your instruments like these may call the world, And with a fearful clamour, to examine Why, and to what we govern. From example, If not for virtue's sake, you may be honest: There have been great ones, good ones, and 'tis necessary, Because you are yourself, and by yourself, A self-piece from the touch of power and justice, [imagine You should command yourself. You may (Which cozens all the world, but chiefly women) The name of greatness glorifies your actions; And strong power, like a pent-house, promises To shade you from opinion: take heed, mother! And let us all take heed! these most abuse us: The sins we do, people behold thro' optics, Which shew them ten times more than common vices, And often multiply them: then what justice Dare we inflict upon the weak offenders, When we are thieves ourselves? Brun. This is Martell, [son, Studied and penn'd unto you; whose base perI charge you by the love you owe a mother, And as you hope for blessings from her prayers, Neither to give belief to, nor allowance! Next, I tell you, sir, you from whom obedi ence Is so far fled that you dare tax a mother, Nay, further, brand her honour with your slanders, And break into the treasures of her credit, Your easiness is abused, your faith freighted With lies, malicious lies; your merchaut Mischief; He that ne'er knew more trade than tales, and tumbling Suspicions into honest hearts: what you or he, Shall ever stand as far from these detections And turn'em unto poisons. My known credit, Theod. This is an impudence; Baw. Bless us! [breaks it, For I do now begin to feel myself Theod. These truths are no man's tales, Brun. Oh, ye gods! [your actions: Theod. Do not abuse their names! they see 2 Opening in the end to nothing but ulcers.] The ancient English poets were certainly not sufficiently cautious of properly accenting their verses, insomuch that it may be doubted whether they thought the rule of accenting the even syllables (viz. the second, fourth, sixth, eighth, and tenth) a necessary part of our measure. This line has the accent upon all the odd syllables, and, tho' the thought is poetry, it is not verse at all. Our authors indeed in general have such good ears, and this is so easily made right measure, that it may probably be a corruption, and the original have run, To nothing opening in the end but ulcers. See the rule above more fully explain'd, with the exception it admits, in a note in the first scene of Wit Without Money. Seward. 3 And happy she could site me.] Corrected in 1750. -feel myself Turning into a halter, and the ladder Turning from me.] Turning into a hulter, is no very natural expression. The common word of being tuck'd in a halter, seems probably the true reading. Seward. 5 In every place, almost in every province.] Every place being much more minutely parti cular than every province, the almost seems improperly plac'd here. It is not very material, but rather more correct to read, In every place almost of every province; i. c. In every corner of every province of our kingdom. Seward. We apprehend the error to be merely in the punctuation, and the poet to have meant, in almost every place, in every province at least, And be so. [me, But, woman (for a mother's name hath left Since you have left your honour), mend these ruins, And build again that broken fame; and fairly, (Your most intemperate fires have burnt) and quickly, Within these ten days, take a monastery, A most strict house; a house where none may whisper, [make you Where no more light is known but what may Believe there is a day; where no hope dwells, Nor comfort but in tears Brun. Oh, misery! [starv❜d penance, Theod. And there to cold repentance, and Tie your succeeding days: or curse me, hea Offer your old desires! Brun. I will not curse you, Nor lay a prophecy upon your pride, Tho' Heav'n might grant me both: unthankful, no! [you; I nourish'd you; 'twas I, poor I, groan'd for 'Twas I felt what you suffer'd; I lamented When sickness or sad hours held back your sweetness; [wakings; 'Twas I pay'd for your sleeps; I watch'd your My daily cares and fears that rid, play'd, walk'd, Discours'd, discover'd, fed and fashion'd you To what you are; aud I am thus rewarded? Theod. But that I know these tears, I could dote on 'em, ['em And kneel to catch 'em as they fall, then knit Into an armlet, ever to be honour'd: [ful, But, woman, they are dangerous drops, deceit, Full of the weeper, anger and ill-nature. Brun. In my last hours despis'd? Theod. That text should tell, How ugly it becomes you to err thus: Your flames are spent, nothing but smoke maintains you; [ters?, And those your favour and your bounty sufLie not with you, they do but lay lust on you, Theod. But were you once disgrac'd, Or fall'n in wealth, like leaves they would fly from you, [will'd me And become browse for every beast. You To stock myself with better friends, and ser[kind, vants; With what face dare you see me, or any man- And when your eyes have dropt away rememOf what you were, I am your son: perform it! [Exit. Brun. Am I a woman, and no more power To tie this tiger up? a soul to no end? halt, [him, From this accursed hour forget thou bor'st Or any part of thy blood gave him living! Let him be to thee an antipathy, [ward; A thing thy nature sweats at, and turns backThrow all the mischiefs on him that thyself, Or woman worse than thou art, have invented, And kill him drunk, or doubtful! Enter Bawdber, Protaldye, and Lecure. I never was in yet! clipt of my minstrels, [tions! My slaves, my running thoughts, my execu [curtals, Your old and honour'd mistress, you tir'd Lec. I fear not gelding, Brun. The young courser, 'Twas I pay'd for your sleeps.] To watch another while he's sleeping, cannot simply be said to pay for his sleep; a metaphor of that nature would require a further explanation, as, I pay'd for your sleep at the price of my own watchings. As nothing of that nature appears, it is most probable that it is the mere omission of a letter, it is therefore restored, pray'd. Seward. ? — your favour and your bounty suffers.] Seward conjectured we should read fosters; and Sympson succours; but suffers, in the sense of per its, is intelligible. That |